I can’t!
The demon moved out of the shadows a little bit, so I could see the torchlight on his silky dark hair, make out the handsome planes of his face, the seductive curve of his lips. Would it be so bad, to spend the rest of eternity with me? he asked, his eyes imploring me. I remembered the feel of his lips on me, the heat of his tongue. Look, he said, pointing into the clearing behind me. I whirled around and pulled in a sharp breath; Wolfgang had my father pinned to the ground. If you don’t do something soon, your father will die.
“No!” I moaned.
“It’s okay,” Lindsey said, totally unaware of the demon ten feet behind us in the trees.
“I… I can’t,” I said, feeling like my heart was being torn out of my chest. Wolfgang had both front paws on my father’s chest now, and looked around the ring with a fierce growl that made me sick. He was going in for the kill—I could tell.
Leave this place, came yet another voice. It was Tom’s, I realized. While everyone else was watching the battle in the clearing, Tom’s eyes were fixed on the creature behind me.
So be it, Mark said. Wolfgang’s head dove, mouth open, jaws prepared to rip out my father’s throat. The ring suddenly seared my finger, making me cry out; at the same time, I felt a pulse of energy, and a flash of light and heat from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder. Mark had vanished.
Startled by the commotion in the woods, Wolfgang jerked his head up a split second before making contact.
In that instant, my father whipped his head around, stretching toward Wolfgang; before the Houston alpha realized what had happened, his throat was firmly clamped in Luc Garou’s jaws.
The crowd gasped at the sudden turnaround. In seconds, Luc was on his feet again, his teeth still embedded in Wolfgang’s hairy neck, fire blazing in his eyes. God. Was my father really going to rip his throat out?
I was hoping maybe he’d let him go, now that everyone knew my father had won the duel. But Wolfgang wasn’t done fighting yet. As my father shifted from paw to paw, Wolfgang started flailing, pushing against my father’s chest, using his muscular hindquarters to try and free himself. With his paws firmly braced on Luc’s chest, he jerked backward, and my father clamped down harder.
A moment later, Luc Garou was still holding onto Wolfgang’s throat, but the rest of the Houston alpha was sprawled on the ground beneath him, twitching in a puddle of blood.
“Oh, God,” I whispered, feeling vomit rise in my throat as the wind brought a whiff of blood to me. My father had ripped Wolfgang’s throat out.
I raised my hands to my face, unwilling to look.
“He did it,” Lindsey said. “I can’t believe he actually did it.”
The next voice I heard was my father’s. “The gods have spoken,” he bellowed. I looked up; he was standing, naked and bloodstreaked, over Wolfgang’s twitching body. As delighted as I was to see him alive, it was a tad embarrassing having him starkers in front of God and everyone. He, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have a problem with it. Wolfgang’s second had transformed, too, into a dark-haired burly man I had seen but didn’t recognize. As I watched, he took the stake that had sat on the table earlier—the one intended for my father—and, looking like he was about to be sick, buried it in Wolfgang’s chest. The furry body twitched once, violently, and was still.
“So that’s what a second does,” Lindsey murmured. “Ugh.”
“As the gods have shown, I am innocent,” my father proclaimed, breathing hard—he had won, but he was still injured. “And now that I have vanquished the alpha, the title falls to me.”
There was a murmur in the crowd.
“As you know, however,” he continued, “I have duties of my own to attend to, in my home territory of Paris. After I have avenged my assistant’s death, I will be returning.” He turned to me, and his golden eyes locked on mine, pride burning in them. “But my genetic heir, Sophie Garou, will take my place as the new Houston alpha.”
All eyes turned to me then.
“Oh my God,” Lindsey said. “You’re alpha!”
“But…”
My father held out a hand to me.
“Go on,” she said, pushing me forward. I stumbled across the clearing toward my naked, blood-slicked father. My eyes caught Tom’s; he regarded me impassively.
My father took my hand, eyes bright with excitement. “It’s what I wanted for you, Sophie,” he said in a low voice. “Your birthright.”
But before he could make any more formal announcements, Elena’s cold voice cut through the night air.
“She will not be alpha.”
Elena strode into the clearing, head high, face dark as a storm. “It is my right. I will not relinquish it.”
“It has not been made formal, Elena. Things have changed.” My father faced her down. “Step aside, Elena Tenorio.”
“I will not.” What happened next occurred so fast I didn’t have time to react. One second, Elena was pulling at her dress. The next, she was barreling into me—half-transformed, teeth bared, aiming for my throat.
The change tore through me as I hit the ground, Elena’s weight like a truckload of bricks, her jaws snapping at the air above me. My legs ripped through the fabric of my T-shirt as I rolled, trying to escape the onslaught of her jagged teeth.
Finally I wriggled out from under her, scuttling over to the side of the clearing and shaking off the remains of my jeans. She growled again; I looked around, waiting for aid. My father was watching closely, but seemed not at all inclined to leap into the fray. Tom, too, stood on the sidelines, watching me.
Do you want my assistance?
I blinked; it was Tom’s voice. Only it was in my head. He was still in wolf form, prowling at the edges of the clearing.
I will aid you if you need it. But to show your supremacy, you must eliminate your rival once and for all.
I stared at the sleek black she-wolf, who even now was looking for a weakness in my defenses, and let a low growl rip from my throat. Do I have to kill her to end it? I asked.
No, he answered. But you must show that you could.
Before our little mind-think conversation could go any further—and I had lots of questions, like, Why didn’t you tell me we could do this a year ago? And, Are you the only one who can talk in my head? And, Does this only work when we’re in wolf form?—Elena hurled herself at me at top speed. I rolled to the side just in time, quickly righting myself.
What should I do? I asked as I faced Elena yet again, wondering how I was supposed to get past all those angry teeth.
Do what Wolfgang did. Tom’s voice echoed in my mind. And your father.
You mean go for the throat.
Exactly. I glanced at Tom for a millisecond, afraid to take my eyes off of Elena any longer, and he nodded his head a fraction. Bite down hard, just not too hard. You bested Anita, you can best this one, too. I glanced at him again. Eyes on Elena, Sophie. Focus. Lose it for a moment and she will kill you.
As my eyes flicked back to Elena, I realized too late that Tom was right; she was on the move again, and already mere inches from my head. I jumped to the side, but not fast enough—her teeth clamped onto my back leg, throwing me off of my feet and onto the ground.
Now I was on my back as her teeth bit into my leg. I could feel the crunch of bone, and a searing pain shot through my body. Elena’s eyes were hot on mine, aflame with long-suppressed rage, as she bore down with all of her strength. I could feel the bone breaking beneath her teeth, and let out a howl of pain.
Satisfied that I was subdued, she let go her grasp and reached for my throat.
At that moment, something rose inside of me; I could feel it coalescing behind my breastbone, gathering its strength. Then, as she closed on me, it contracted into a tiny ball and—I don’t know how to put it, exactly—but it kind of hurled itself at her. I could feel the hollowness where it left me.
Elena’s teeth snapped shut inches from my throat; there was a breeze on my face, and a yelp as if Elena had been punched, and
then she was on the ground, ten feet away from me.
I pulled myself to my feet, right hind leg dragging, and closed the distance between us, my thoughts lost in a red cloud of pain and anger. She lay on the ground, winded; all predator now, I focused on the black fur of her neck, judging the angle, already tasting her blood on my lips. I lunged; but she flailed to her feet, and my aim went wide. My teeth missed her neck, burying themselves in her shoulder. At the same time, hers tore down my side, ripping through the flesh and making me yelp in pain.
As I tightened my grip, she snapped at me again, this time grabbing my front leg. I yanked, feeling the tearing as her teeth slid down the leg bone to my paw. I jerked back, feeling the agony as her teeth ripped through the flesh of my paw. Just for a moment, I found myself wondering how I was going to explain all this to a plastic surgeon.
Then the thread of thought was lost in instinct again. As Elena snapped at me, my teeth dug deeper into her shoulder, drawing blood. I felt a crunch between my teeth, and she let out a howl of pain; I could feel it radiating from her, along with her anger, which still burned hot. I was beyond thinking—all I wanted was to sink my teeth into her, to vanquish her before she vanquished me. As she lowered her dark, sleek head, preparing for her next attack, Tom’s voice rang in my head again. When she comes after you, let go and go for the throat.
I had only a moment to react; within a split second, she was coming at me again, teeth gleaming in the torchlight. I released her shoulder and feinted to the side, throwing her off balance. She fought to shift gears, but she couldn’t stop the momentum. As she stretched her long black neck, I went for the kill.
The moment seemed to play out in slow motion. I saw the stark fear in Elena’s eyes as she realized what had happened, but it was too late for her to pull back. I felt the fur in my mouth first, then the firmness of muscle, then the hot spurt of her blood as my jaws closed tighter. I started to squeeze harder, consumed with pain and vengeance, but as her body flailed, Tom spoke again. Hold, Sophie.
If he hadn’t stopped me, I would have killed her.
I’m not terribly clear on what happened next. Once Tom told me I could let Elena go, I succumbed to the pain. Although I vaguely remember being carried off in Tom’s arms, and hearing my father’s voice somewhere in the distance, the next actual moment I can recall is waking up in my bed in my childhood room, looking up at a werewolf who was a dead ringer for Gloria Steinem.
“She’s awake!” Gloria said, smiling.
“Sophie!” It was Lindsey, who I now realized was sitting, along with Heath, in chairs that had been set up alongside the bed. They were holding hands, I noticed in a detached sort of way, and wondered what Tom thought about it.
“You did well, Sophie.” It was Tom’s voice, only not in my head this time. I turned to look into his amber eyes; he was perched on the side of the bed. A smile curled his lip, giving me a glimpse of those long white canines.
“You’re not in my head anymore,” I said. “Why not?”
“I don’t know,” he said, his golden eyes burning. “The connection seems stronger when we are in our animal forms.”
“Why?”
“What’s she talking about?” Lindsey asked.
“I could hear him,” I said. “When I was out there …”
“Shhh,” Tom said, laying a finger on my parched lips. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Despite my rather reduced state, his touch still ignited a response in me. I glanced at Lindsey, feeling guilty.
“It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll explain later.”
Suddenly, I sat up straight. Or tried to—it didn’t work out very well, and only resulted in excruciating pain. “My mother …” I gasped. “We need to call her.”
“She knows everything. In fact, she’s barely left your bedside,” Lindsey said. “She just went to get something to eat. We’re at Sit A Spell now. Your father’s here, too.”
“Is he okay?”
“He’s fine,” she said. “Well, maybe not fine. He’s in about the same shape as you are.”
“What’s the damage?” I asked, looking down at my bandage-swaddled body. I noticed the fur coverage on my unbandaged arm was rather heavy, and panicked for a moment—then realized that everyone else in the room was in the same boat, and there was no need to worry.
“Broken leg, and your arm and hand got torn up pretty well,” said Lindsey. “Your dad’s in the guest room, recovering. He wanted to come see you, too, but she gave him something to help him rest. Fortunately, we didn’t have to take either of you to a hospital. You’re both in excellent hands here.” She nodded toward Gloria Steinem. “Dr. Stenger trained at Johns Hopkins.”
I looked at the kindly looking woman—werewolf, actually, based on the glowing amber eyes—with the long hair and big glasses. “You’re a doctor? That’s amazing! How did you manage med school? I mean, the full moons …”
She grinned. “It was a challenge, but not an insurmountable one. I just had to dodge a lot of blood tests. And drink a lot of wolfsbane during my residency.” Her eyes glinted behind the heavy glasses. “But right now, it’s time for everyone to leave. You need to rest if you’re going to mend.”
Lindsey smiled at me, looking gorgeous as always, even with the little bit of extra sideburn I noticed was starting to develop. “She managed to get you fixed up before moonrise. It was touch and go, but we made it.”
“Your first full moon,” I said, realizing it had been Lindsey’s, and Heath’s, first experience with compulsory transformation. “How did it go?”
“It was a little hectic, after everything that happened. But it’s amazing, Sophie.” Her eyes sparkled. “Everything smells so incredible. Even the wind has a scent! And the feel of running through the woods …” She shivered. “Heath and I had a wonderful time. Thank you so much for sharing with me!” I knew she meant it on both counts; both the blood and my ex-boyfriend. I smiled up at her, glad to see her so happy.
“So, are you guys going to switch back?” I asked.
“I don’t want to, but Heath’s kind of on the fence. We agreed we’d try it out for a few months and then decide.”
“I hope you like wolfsbane tea,” I said.
“I know there’s a lot to catch up on, but Sophie needs rest,” the doctor said reprovingly.
“You’re right—I’m so sorry, Doctor.” Lindsey turned to me. “You’re in good hands, like I said. Just relax and get better now, okay, Madame Alpha?”
I blinked at her. “What did you just say?”
“You’re the big cheese now. Remember?”
I’d been so focused on saving my father’s skin—not to mention my own—that I’d forgotten about the other implications of what had happened. Like that I was now supposedly an alpha.
It was too bizarre to even think about. After twenty-eight years of avoiding werewolves, suddenly I was in charge of a bunch of them?
My thoughts drifted to the made werewolves who had been scheduled for execution. “The made ones—the ones they were going to hunt. Are they still alive?”
Lindsey nodded. “They postponed the final ceremonies because of what happened. You were in no shape to pre side.”
“I want to free them,” I said. “Immediately. Can I do that?”
“You can do pretty much whatever you want to, based on what I’ve read of the Codex,” Heath said. “That’s what Wolfgang did. Evidently he’s the one who killed Grenier. Your friend Tom was right.”
I turned to stare at him. “What?”
“He decided to kill two birds with one stone. Kill Grenier, who he knew was seeing his future mate, and then pin the crime on your father.”
“We can discuss all of this later,” Dr. Stenger said. “When she’s better.”
“Lindsey,” I said. “What time is it?”
“It’s nine a.m.”
“And it’s a weekday.” I winced. “I need you to call Adele for me. Tell her… tell her I was in an accident, I guess.”
> Lindsey gave me a doubtful smile. “Sophie, I’ll call her, but to be honest, I don’t think it will matter much. You’re going to have lots of new duties now that you’re the alpha.”
“But I haven’t decided to take it. I’m an auditor, not an alpha. And I’ve worked hard for that partnership.”
“Hard enough to continue serving a client who’s a demon after your soul?”
Tom looked at her, startled.
“Okay, folks. It’s time to go,” Dr. Stenger said, herding everyone toward the door.
“One last thing,” Tom said. With Lindsey, Heath, and Dr. Stenger looking on, he bent down and kissed me, his gold stubble brushing against my cheek. I was about to melt into a puddle of goo—or rip his clothes off, audience or no audience—when he lifted his head, and I gasped for breath.
And looked at Lindsey, feeling horrified.
To my surprise, she was grinning. “It’s okay,” she said. “Heath and I—well, if it’s all right with you …”
I glanced at Heath disbelievingly. He and Lindsey?
“When we started working on the case together,” Heath explained, “we realized we had a certain chemistry.”
“And it’s obvious that you and Tom are cut from the same cloth,” Lindsey said. “I’ve known you were stuck on each other for ages. I just didn’t want to admit it.”
“But…” I stammered.
“Everybody out,” Dr. Stenger ordered. “There will be plenty of time later.” When they had filed out of the room, she turned and pressed a cup to my lips. “Drink this,” she said. “It will help you mend faster.”
I drank, letting the syrupy liquid coat my throat. It tasted sweet, and slightly medicinal, somehow. I had barely handed the cup back before my eyelids started to droop.
“Rest now,” she said.
Since there really wasn’t another option, I did.
The next time I woke, instead of Gloria Steinem, it was my mother who was sitting next to me, peering at my hand.
“Mom?” I croaked.
“Sophie!” My mother’s dark eyes were bright. “You look just awful. I’m so sorry you got banged up. But you did it!” She beamed at me proudly. “And now you’re alpha, I hear. I just knew you needed to be with your kind.” She leaned down and folded me into a hug, and I relaxed just breathing in her familiar smell. She released me after a long moment, then whispered, “What happened with the demon? Did the bag help?”
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