Master of the Moon

by Angela Knight

  Now, without backup, she had to balance the chance to keep somebody from getting killed against the risk to Llyr. Fact was, she just couldn’t cool her heels while another man got slaughtered.

  Llyr, for his part, had made it very clear he had no desire to sit on the sidelines. “I have never believed in letting the enemy set the terms of engagement,” he told her when she suggested staying home.

  So here they were, riding around Verdaville waiting for the other shoe to drop. Diana would rather be dodging magical fireballs. “Maybe Fangface has decided to pull up stakes and kill people somewhere else,” she said finally, after the long silence had begun to get to her.

  Llyr shot her a glance. “Not if she’s working for Ansgar.”

  “Yeah.” She sighed. “Maybe we should call it off and go back home to wait. If you’re right…”

  “She’d strike at a time of her choosing. I think not. I’d rather catch her in the act and possibly save a man’s life in the process.”

  “Yeah, well…”

  “Verdaville Charlie One-Nine,” Dispatch interrupted. “Reported stabbing. Caller said she just got home from work to find her son nonresponsive and cold. 132 Huff Drive. Proceed with caution—the description of the scene sounds like the earlier incidents.”

  “That’s her.” Grimly, she scooped up the handset and clicked the talk button. “Ten-four, dispatch, Verdaville Charlie One-Nine en route. Does the mother think the subject is still on the scene?” Diana hit the gas and flicked on the car’s lights and sirens with her mike hand as they accelerated with a roar.

  “Negative.”

  “Ten-four.”

  “Is it our vampire?” Llyr asked.

  “Probably.” Grimly, Diana concentrated on driving the aging patrol car as they whipped along Verdaville’s narrow streets, listening with half an ear while Dispatch started sending other units to the scene.

  Huff Drive lay on the very outskirts of town—one street over, and the murder would have been in the county’s jurisdiction. Diana wondered if that was pure chance, or if Fangface had a map and was deliberately doing her killing in the city limits. The road was lined with mobile homes, some elaborate brand-new double-wides, others rusting violations of half a dozen city codes.

  She slowed the car, checking mailbox numbers until she found one marked 132. It sat in the curve as the road doglegged, in front of spanking-new double-wide that probably cost as much as her house.

  Diana popped the car door before the Crown Vic had even rolled to a stop. “Stay put and let me check this out,” she told Llyr without looking at him.

  “I don’t think so.” His tone was grim.

  “Llyr, of the two of us, I’m the only one invulnerable to magic.” She didn’t wait to hear his reply as she swung out of the car.

  She paused, crouching behind the door’s cover as she drew her gun. A bullet might not stop Fangface, but it would keep her busy.

  Glancing over to see Llyr reaching for his car door handle, Diana held up her free hand. “Wait.” Carefully, she scented the wind blowing into her face. Her nose wasn’t as good in this form, but it was still better than a mortal’s. A cat lurked in the neighbor’s bushes across the street, and a dog chained one house over barked like a lunatic. She wrinkled her nose absently; the dog really needed a bath.

  Nothing else. Which might only mean that the vampire was standing downwind. She gestured at Llyr to stay where he was and scuttled around the car at a crouch, knowing its metal bulk would provide at least some cover.

  When Diana reached his door, she straightened and motioned for him to get out. A quick glance at his face in the moonlight showed how little he liked her playing Secret Service to his President.

  Unfortunately, she was damned either way. If she had him stay in the car—assuming he would obey, which she didn’t—he’d be a sitting duck the minute she went into the house to check on the body. Better to keep him right at her elbow.

  Diana stepped back to allow him to get out of the car. His frozen expression announced the situation went against his every instinct—knowing him, he probably thought he should be protecting her. Fortunately, he also had the wit to know he wasn’t magicproof.

  They started across the yard for the mobile home, Diana’s attention focused on the tree line across the road. Her heart suddenly started pounding. She stopped, staring into the woods, barely conscious that Llyr had moved past her.

  The wind shifted, blowing out of the trees.

  “Get down!” she yelled, and flung herself at Llyr.

  FIFTEEN

  The nimbus from the magic blast took Diana in the side as she barreled into Llyr, and she hissed in pain as they went down together. He spat a ripe Sidhe curse and grabbed her, instinctively trying to roll her beneath him.

  But Diana was already changing, transforming into the Dire Wolf. She felt him freeze in astonishment as she went furry against him, but she had no time to worry about his reaction. She lifted her head.

  The vampire strode toward her, bold as hell, dressed in some kind of magical glowing armor she’d probably generated from the life force of the poor bastard she’d just murdered. “Save us all some trouble and get out of the way,” Fangface growled behind her visor.

  “Not likely.” Diana could hear sirens in the distance, but the humans were the least of her problems. She tensed, gauging the distance between them. “I’ve had more than enough of you.”

  “Whatever.” The vampire lifted her hands, readying another blast. She obviously thought she was out of reach.

  She was wrong.

  Diana leaped in a long, flat dive, slamming into the vampire so hard, both of them went flying. She heard Llyr’s shout behind her and ignored him.

  She was damned well going to finish this. She’d deal with the fallout later. Plunging for the vampire’s throat, she was dimly conscious of her prey’s startled scream.

  Fangface grabbed her jaw and managed to deflect her lunge; the bitch was strong, Diana had to give her that. Light exploded around her head as the vampire unleashed another spell. She smelled singeing fur and ignored it as she grabbed the vamp’s hand and jerked it from her face.

  “Why won’t you die?” Fangface shrieked.

  “I’m Direkind, you stupid bitch,” Diana growled, and slammed her other fist into the vampire’s perfect nose. “I was born to kick magic-using ass.”

  “Okay, so let’s see how you do with steel.” Metal glinted in her hand. Before she could twist away, the vampire plunged the blade at her eye.

  Diana twisted her head aside, but the knife scored her cheek. She roared in rage.

  Llyr, standing over them with Diana’s gun in his hand, swore in frustration as the two twisted together like fighting cats. He didn’t trust the weapon enough to chance a shot. He was damned good with a bow, but he’d never fired a modern pistol in his life.

  Which hadn’t stopped him from scooping Diana’s weapon up when she’d dropped it to transform. It would probably do no good at all against the vampire, but at least it was something.

  His gut demanded he wade in and start punching, but even Llyr knew that was a bad idea. His lithe lover had just transformed into seven feet of fur and fangs that was obviously more than capable of dealing with the vampire. And as much as it galled him to admit it, without his magic he could do more good with the gun, assuming he could get a shot he could trust.

  Dragon’s Breath, he hated this.

  And those sirens were getting closer. Light flashed in the corner of his eye, and he turned to see a patrol car round the corner, speeding toward them.

  The vampire’s yelp of agony brought his head back around just as she jerked herself out of Diana’s hold to spring onto her feet. An axe materialized in her hands, and she lifted it over Diana’s head.

  Llyr fired.

  The vampire dropped the axe and staggered with a shout of pain. She shot him a look of glittering hatred and threw up both hands. A gate shimmered in behind her, and she whirled to jump throug
h it. Diana, bleeding, rolled off the ground and dove, but the gate vanished. She hit the ground beyond it with a thud that made Llyr wince.

  Brakes screeched behind them. Diana’s long lupine muzzle turned in the direction of the sound and instantly began to shrink.

  One moment she was an uneasy blend of woman and wolf, towering, muscles rippling under sleek black fur matted with blood. The next, she was herself again, a slim figure in a blue uniform with a gamine cap of dark hair.

  She calmly walked over to take the gun Llyr held and slide it back into its holster. “Thanks,” she murmured.

  “What the hell was that?” a tall, heavyset Verdaville cop demanded as he raced up. “I thought I saw…” He broke off.

  Diana turned to look at him, lifting a brow. “Yeah?”

  “Nothing. What’s going on? Where’s the subject?”

  “We wrestled with her, but she got away.” She shrugged. “Ran off into the woods.”

  Two more patrol cars—these with different markings from Diana’s—roared around the corner. Diana turned to look at them. “Why don’t you take some backup and go see if you can find her? Llyr and I will check the house.”

  The cop shot him a look but obviously decided he didn’t want to question Diana too closely. “Will do.”

  “And tell Dispatch to call the chief.” Her expression was grim. “Our killer’s struck again.”

  “Think it’s the same guy?”

  “Oh, it’s definitely the same. But it’s not a guy.”

  Llyr stared at the closed bathroom door and listened to the hiss of falling water.

  Diana had told him she was going to take a shower. Then, before he could undress, she’d walked in and shut the door behind her.

  Had she barred him from her body for failing to enter the battle against the vampire? He frowned, feeling a sense of inadequacy he hadn’t known since he was a boy laboring in his brother’s cruel shadow.

  No. Llyr straightened his shoulders. He’d shot the vampire when she was about to use the axe on Diana. He had not done as much as he would have liked, but he’d certainly done all that was practical without making matters worse. If Diana believed otherwise, he’d simply have to convince her.

  Without bothering to knock, he opened the door and strode in.

  She stood with her back to him behind the slick mortal curtain, her head bowed and her shoulders hunched. She didn’t look angry.

  She looked defeated.

  Well, he would address that, too. Squaring his jaw, he stripped off his shirt and the tough pantaloons she’d called jeans, then sat down to rid himself of his socks and shoes. It all took entirely too long. He wished he could simply magic them all away.

  Diana looked around as he swept the curtain back and stepped inside with her. There was vulnerability in her wide eyes, a faint wince, a tightness to the mouth.

  As though she was expecting a blow.

  “I didn’t think you wanted to join me.” Diana reached up to sweep the wet curls off her forehead as she stepped back to make room for him.

  He frowned. “You’re the one who closed the door. I thought you were angry because I didn’t join you in the fight against the vampire.”

  Her eyes widened as she recoiled at the thought. “God, no. Fangface would have blasted you or taken you hostage or something. Besides, you shot her before she could bury an axe in my head.” Diana smiled slightly. It still looked a little wan. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

  Llyr snorted. “That blow would never have landed. You’d have blocked the strike or rolled clear—and probably fed her the axe in the bargain.” He paused, studying her face. She looked away. “But if you are not angry, why did you close the door?”

  Diana lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Oh, you know—I figured you wouldn’t be up to wild jungle sex with Lon Chaney, Jr.”

  Junior? He frowned. “You were correct.”

  She flinched.

  Llyr caught her shoulder and gently turned her to face him. “I do not have sex with men, so I am definitely not interested in making love to anyone named Lon Chanly.” He tried out a small smile. “I assume this is another obscure mortal reference.”

  Diana laughed, the sound strangled. Some of the tension ran out of her body as she looked up at him. “Chaney, not Chanly. He was an actor, Llyr. He played a werewolf in an old movie.”

  “Interesting,” Llyr said patiently. “I still don’t understand why I should consider him a potential sex partner.”

  “Since he’s dead, that would be out of the question anyway. I was speaking metaphorically. I meant I didn’t think you’d want to make love to me after seeing me become a monster.”

  Llyr frowned, remembering her impressive beauty in Dire Wolf form. “Monster? Diana, Geirolf was a monster. A fire-breathing chimera is a monster. You, however, are no monster.”

  She braced her fists on her hips and examined his face, as if she didn’t quite believe him. He was instantly distracted by the bounce of her lovely breasts. “Look, I don’t have access to a Sidhese dictionary, but in English, anything that’s seven feet tall, fanged, and furry is a monster. So quit pulling my chain.” Diana frowned, seeing his eyes drop. “Are you listening to me?”

  “No, actually I was admiring your nipples. They really are exquisite, you know.”

  “Argh!” She whirled, jerked the curtain aside, and stepped, dripping, out of the tub.

  “Your ass is quite lovely, too,” he observed, admiring it. “Very tight and…”

  Diana spun with a growl and changed.

  Magic shimmering around her, she grew to towering Dire Wolf height as silky black fur bloomed across her pale skin, her face stretching and elongating into a wolf muzzle, her ears stretching upward into long tufted points. He realized her basic build was the same as it was when she was in human form—long, lithe, and slender, though perhaps slightly more muscled than in human form. “You were saying?” she growled. Her voice was deeper than it was ordinarily, with a rough rumbling note underlying it. He found it intriguing.

  “I was saying you’re beautiful.” Boldly, Llyr reached up and cupped one breast. The fur that lay over it was much softer than he’d expected, more like a cat’s than a wolf’s. Smiling at the silken sensation, he squeezed gently. “No matter what form you’re in.”

  Looking up, Llyr realized that despite the shape of her body, her pale, lovely eyes were the same. They wore an expression of vulnerability now that tugged at his heart. She flinched back, bringing one clawed hand up as if to protect her breast. “You don’t mean that.”

  He tilted his chin and gave her his most lofty stare—no easy task when she was ten inches taller. “Don’t presume to tell me what I do not mean. Magic or no magic, I am still a king.”

  Diana laughed, a burble of relieved sound that spiraled higher as she changed. In a blink, she was herself again, naked and damp as she fell into his arms. “Oh, I love you, you arrogant fairy!” As if realizing what she’d just said, she stiffened and looked up at him, eyes anxious. “I didn’t mean…”

  “I know what you meant.” Something hot lodged under his heart, but he ignored it to haul her into his arms and kiss her with a famished intensity. She kissed him back, sliding her arms around him.

  As her smooth body pressed against his, hunger leaped, taking him by surprise with its heat. He growled against her mouth, and she purred back as he caught her firm backside in both hands and lifted her off her feet. Llyr turned to brace her against the wall as he deepened the kiss, ravenously drinking in her sweet response. She wrapped her long, strong legs around his waist as he pressed closer, grinding his aching, rock-hard cock against her smooth belly.

  I can’t just take her against the wall! some fragment of chivalry protested, but the wildness running through his blood didn’t care. And she didn’t seem to care either, biting and licking at his lips, pumping her hips against the thickness of his urgent cock.

  He lifted her higher and bent until he could take one of her hard
pink nipples into his mouth. She tasted deliciously of sex and wild things and magic. Llyr growled in lust.

  Long, slim fingers wrapped in his hair and clenched. Suckling ferociously, he relished the slight pain as an indication of her need. He reached down between their bodies with one hand to find her sex. A thrusting finger found her slick and ready. He panted, his body shaking with need.

  Diana rolled her head back against the cool tile, blow-torch lust burning every nerve. The idea that he found her beautiful even in Dire Wolf form was wildly exciting. She’d never expected to find that in anyone but another werewolf—not that she’d ever met one she wanted to love.

  Yet Llyr’s fierce desire couldn’t be anything but genuine.

  Now he was pumping two fingers deep in her sex, each stroke stretching her, readying her for the big cock jutting so hungrily against her belly. Any moment now, he’d stuff the whole massive thing inside her. He always felt as if he was almost too big. She loved that.

  And then there was his mouth, skillful tongue swirling and laving her hard nipples. Her cunt clenched around his fingers with the first pulse of the orgasm she could feel building like a storm.

  “Now.” She gasped. Begged. “Now. Take me now. Here. Like this.”

  “Dragon’s Breath, yes!” he gritted, and lifted her until he could poise his cock at her opening. With a hard roll of his hips, he entered her.

  The sensation made her throw back her head and howl in pleasure. He felt so damn good, filling every nook and fold of her sheath with that massive shaft. “God, Llyr! More!”

  His breath gusting hot against her ear, he braced her back against the wall and began to pump, riding hard and strong, those delicious muscles working with every exquisite thrust. She ground back at him, eager, panting, wanting, hungering.

  The pulses started, long and rippling with ferocity. “Ah, I’m coming!”