by Brenda Bryce
Kyle absently reached over and took her hand in his and settled them both on his thigh. He ignored her attempt to retrieve it and rubbed circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “I have a man in my family who deals with just this sort of situation. I have sent for him, and he will arrive any time now. The type of killer you’re dealing with is not your usual psychopath. Donovan Vitello is a highly skilled hunter of killers and can assist you in your search for this person.”
“You don’t think my people can catch this madman on our own?” The sheriff kept his voice low, but there was a distinct bite to it.
“Actually, no, I don’t think your people can catch this killer.” Lannie subjected his thigh to a death grip that she knew left deep impressions, but he ignored her warning and the killer glare that Ross Kendricks threw at him. “Let me explain. Please.”
“Go ahead, and this had better be damned good.”
“I assure you it won’t be a waste of your time. First, your officers may be highly trained and have had to catch killers before, but they aren’t ready to go against the killer you have in your town now. I already know things about him that your people wouldn’t have access to, nor would you believe it if you did.” He paused for a moment, and Lannie watched some of the anger fade from the sheriff’s face. She hoped this meant Kyle was getting through. “I haven’t interfered in your case, nor have I kept vital information from you. I wasn’t sure if my suppositions about this killer were correct until you told me of a second victim who had been mutilated.”
“Lemme get this straight. You know something about this killer that tells you my people aren’t good enough to catch him? Not only that, but you have to bring in cousin Vito ...”
Kyle interrupted. “Vitello. Donovan Vitello.”
“Same difference. You bring in some outside muscle to handle this situation? What the hell could you possibly know that would ensure that I won’t catch this psycho?”
Lannie jumped when Kendricks banged his closed fist on the table, but Kyle sat quietly through the tirade, then said calmly, “The killer isn’t a human.”
Kendricks barked out a derisive laugh. “I have heard some shit in my life, but this has to take the cake. If he isn’t human, what is he supposed to be, may I ask?”
“A werewolf,” Kyle stated, unruffled.
Ross ran a hand over his face roughly, then glared at Kyle. “A werewolf. I have a werewolf running around my town killing and hacking up citizens? And I didn’t realize it? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Exactly.”
Ross stared at Kyle for several heartbeats. Lannie watched the silent communication, but didn’t understand what wasn’t being said. He seemed to be measuring Kyle’s belief that the killer wasn’t human. Finally, Ross blew out a harsh breath and said only, “Prove it.” Lannie relaxed slightly at the lessening of tension.
A knock at the door interrupted them. Ross sighed and rose to open the door.
“What?” His voice had risen immediately at the sight of the stranger standing in front of him.
“I am Donovan Vitello. I am expected.”
“Well, join the party.” Ross opened the door wider and allowed the large, dark man to enter.
Lannie had been quiet up to that point, but couldn’t suppress a gasp at the man who came in. He was huge. He had to be around six-foot-six. Long black hair, steel-gray eyes, and his clothes were all black, too. Black slacks, black shirt, black trench coat, black shoes. The shoes weren’t patent leather, so they didn’t even stand out with a shine; they were just a dull black. She bet herself that this guy could disappear at night.
His eyes latched on to her as soon as he stepped into the room. He walked straight up to her and slowly, gracefully, knelt at her feet. Lannie watched him, startled and a little frightened, but didn’t move. He put his hands on the arms of her chair and stared into her eyes.
Lannie felt Kyle squeeze her hand and he said softly, “Don’t be afraid. He won’t hurt you. Donovan is only showing his respect for the alpha female.”
Slowly, without seeming to move a muscle, Donovan leaned toward her. Lannie trusted that Kyle wouldn’t let this stranger harm her, but still ...
She didn’t take her eyes from Donovan’s, and eventually he dropped his eyes from hers. He leaned toward her and laid his head in her lap, throat bared and stilled.
Confused, Lannie looked up at Kyle. He was smiling down upon the head of the gigantic man who had his head in her lap. “It’s all right, Lannie.”
Not thinking, she put her free hand on Donovan’s head and gently caressed it as she would a child.
Nodding, Kyle squeezed the hand in his possession and said to Donovan, “It’s good. My mate has accepted you. You may rise.”
She blinked as the man known as Donovan smoothly rose and nodded down at her, then looked toward Kyle. “You called for me?” His voice was deep, and it vibrated in Lannie’s chest. She thought he would do well if he worked in radio. Late at night. When it was really dark out.
She was still reeling over the bizarre events that had just taken place. What the heck was that all about? She made a mental note to thoroughly question Kyle after they finished here.
Ross Kendricks apparently wondered the same thing. “What the hell was that all about?”
Donovan Vitello looked into the sheriff’s eyes and said quietly, “That was none of your business. I need to know where the attacks took place, and I will take it from there.”
Ross glowered at them all. “I’m feeling out of the loop and hate it. Tall, dark, and submissive here strolls in and does what I’ve ...” He took a deep breath and blew it out hard. “Never mind. Everything has been weird since you two walked into the building, and now nobody wants to tell me what the hell is going on? Nobody is leaving this room until I get some damned answers. Do you understand?”
All eyes were upon him, and he must have taken that as assent. Motioning for the new arrival to sit, the sheriff scowled around the room. “Where do we start? Okay. Tell me about the killer not being human first, then we will go on from there. Mr. Sylia, you begin.” Ross waived a hand in Kyle’s direction.
“I’m almost positive that the being you are after is a werewolf.” Lannie saw Donovan’s sharp look, but Kyle held up a staying hand. “I’m going to trust you. I don’t know why, but I feel as if you are pack, so I’m going to follow my gut instinct. I know that the killer is a werewolf, because I caught his scent at the site of the first killing. Werewolves all have different scents, but there are levels that identify a werewolf from a human, from a dog, from even a normal wolf. I don’t have Donovan’s skills to hunt, but I do know a werewolf scent.”
“Hoo-kay ... Let’s say that I believe you about you smelling a werewolf. Maybe you might smell one where there isn’t one. Or vice-versa. Not smelling one where there is one. How could you smell one in the first place? It isn’t like you are one, is it?”
Everyone just looked at him. Lannie squirmed in her chair until Kyle pressed her hand into his thigh.
Ross dropped his head into his hands. A muffled sigh came from him and he groaned. “You expect me to believe that you’re all werewolves, too? Is that what you’re getting at?”
“Yes.” The reply came from Kyle, and the sheriff’s head popped back up.
“As I said before your prostrating friend showed up, prove it.”
Kyle stood and glanced at Donovan. “Don’t let the good sheriff shoot me.”
Donovan nodded, and Kyle pulled his jacket off. Donovan hung the jacket over the camera in the corner, verified that there were no sound pickups in the room, then checked that the door was locked. Kyle continued to strip out of his clothes, and Lannie watched, fascinated, as he folded each item and laid it on the table neatly.
Sheriff Kendricks watched Kyle. Donovan watched the sheriff. Lannie’s eyes lit on everyone in the room repeatedly. The testosterone was thick enough to cut, and Lannie discreetly covered her mouth so the males wouldn’t see her smile.
Men were so pigheaded. Any idea out of their scope must be wrong. Women were more forgiving of new ideas.
Nude, Kyle stretched and rolled his head. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Seconds ticked by and everyone waited.
Kyle started to breathe fast and deep. Repeatedly he sucked in air and blew it out as hard as he could. His eyes opened, and Ross sucked in a breath. Lannie turned to see what had excited him. His eyes were a bright red. Not like he had gone on a four-day drunk, but as if his eyes had been replaced entirely. She could see his pupils; the rest of the eyes were a glowing red. It was startling, to say the least.
Kyle’s muscles rippled under the skin and he started changing shape.
“Shit.” Ross looked thoroughly freaked out, but he didn’t move. He didn’t take his hands from the top of the desk. Nor did he take his eyes off the sight before him.
Hair began to sprout from the skin of the nude man and popping sounds began to echo around the small room. Growls and other inhuman noises emerged from Kyle, and he bent over and placed his contorting hands upon the floor. His face began to reshape and stretch, his back arched, and he began to grow a tail. Fingers and toes disappeared and paws formed.
“It can’t be a trick; there wasn’t time to set it up. Since I don’t take drugs, prescribed or illegal, it can’t be a hallucination. It can only be fact. There really are other werewolves.” The sheriff spoke aloud, dazed, as if he had seen the impossible. But who wouldn’t be freaked out? Before his very eyes, a man had just transformed into a beast.
“Shit,” Ross said again.
“Always the showman, aren’t you, boss?” Vitello muttered.
Kyle, now fully transformed, padded over to Lannie, leaned against her legs, and looked placidly up at her.
“Grr, yip.”
“Umm.” She cleared her throat. “Kyle asked if that was proof enough?”
“Yeah, sure. That’s proof enough for me.” Kendricks had started nodding before Lannie had spoken, as if he’d actually understood the wolf, then blinked, closed his eyes, and shook his head. He took a couple of steadying breaths, then sighed. “Okay, so the killer is a werewolf. He could be anyone, and I would never know. I couldn’t even pick you all out.” He eyed the three other occupants of the room and asked the question he’d been curious about. “Are there ways to tell a werewolf from a human?”
Donovan took up the explanations. “Yes.”
Lannie’s gaze shot from one male to the other while Ross waited patiently, but when it looked like there would be no further input, the sheriff let his head drop in exasperation for just a moment. “How?”
Donovan looked to Kyle, and the wolf nodded.
“A werewolf differs from a human in only a few obvious ways. The eyes are generally a dead giveaway. A werewolf’s eyes glow in the dark no matter what his form. A werewolf cannot sustain any strong emotion for a long period of time without changing. It’s automatic. A fight-or-flight response that cannot be combated. If a werewolf gets extremely angry and stays that way for several minutes, he will change. Werewolves, for this reason, have to learn to control their emotions.
“To a werewolf, another werewolf can be picked out by scent. And a human who can become a mate to a werewolf and changed ...”
A growl interrupted Donovan’s speech, and he mumbled an apology and lowered his head.
Kyle licked Lannie’s hand and returned to the other side of the room from the sheriff. He began the process to reverse the transformation. The popping and cracking of joints and bones reforming sounded in the room. In a few short seconds, since he wasn’t going for the shock value this time and changed quickly, he was putting his clothing back on.
“There are some things that are not necessary for you to know about our race to hunt the killer. I hope that what you have seen and heard is sufficient?” Kyle watched him as he adjusted his clothes.
“If that’s all you’re willing to give me, I suppose it’ll have to do.” Ross stood and crossed to the door. “You’ve given me a lot to think about and a lot more to try to make fit into the scope of my life. I suppose that I’ll have to start believing in vampires and space aliens next.”
To Lannie’s dismay, Kyle only smiled mysteriously.
Chapter Nine
Lannie lay in her own bed, in her own small house, in her adopted small town, and sighed. She was finally alone. Ross Kendricks and Donovan Vitello were collaborating to catch a killer. Kyle had gone to his rented house to do who knows what, and she was lying down in her darkened room, nursing a sick headache. She had always seen the women on fifties’ comedy shows saying they had a sick headache and hadn’t known what they meant. Now she did.
She had taken some pain relievers, but that just took the edge off of the ache. Sadly, lying down didn’t help, either. Giving up trying to sleep and hoping work would do the trick, she rose and dressed in her comfy clothes, which consisted of sweat pants and an old T-shirt.
Her house could use some attention, but she didn’t feel like stirring up the dust that had accumulated while she’d been at the showing. It could stay there for another day. Since she hadn’t gotten home until after dark, and it was late now, she really didn’t want to run the vacuum. Besides, it might exacerbate her headache.
Entering her workshop, she checked the texture of the clay and, finding it only a bit dryer than she liked it, began working. She kept the lights low in the workshop and only turned on the light directly over her workstation.
As she worked, she hummed to herself and thought about the last week. What a week it had been. Not since she had first left Kyle had she had such a busy, stressful week. The saddest part was that it hadn’t even been a week, just a few days. She was afraid to see what would happen during the rest of what would constitute the week.
Looking at the statuette under her busy fingers, she saw it was forming into a wolf’s head. Glancing up at the busts of Kyle on either side of the door, she realized she was making another one of him, this time in his wolf form.
“Oh, well, maybe no one will notice that I have a compulsion to do Kyle.” Then she giggled softly at the double meaning. Although, she really did like doing Kyle. The little sex they had had before having to return in a rush had been exciting, mind-blowing, body-tingling. She smiled softly when she thought of the perfect word to describe it. The loving had been fulfilling. Way more than she had expected it could be. To be honest, no matter how angry she got at him, she still loved him. And now that hot sex had been tossed into the mix ... He even said he would stay in Nowhere so she could be happy. Lannie sighed. Could she really trust him with her heart again? She wanted to, but the potential for catastrophic, soul-deep, destruction was possible. Oh, who was she kidding? If anything went wrong this time, it might kill her. She needed him so much, she was actually fighting the need to go to him, be with him, rub all over him just so she could smell him. And how weird was that? So, she stayed strong and pressed her fingers into the clay, shaping, forming, detailing Kyle.
Time passed, and Lannie worked. She didn’t pay attention to anything but her thoughts and the feel of the clay until the figure was fully fleshed out and ready for the drying rack.
Lannie stretched and put a fist at her back, leaned backward, and groaned. Actually hearing the popping sounds that emitted from her back caused her to chuckle softly. “I must be getting old.”
A loud crash came from the direction of the living room and caused her to jump and scream. She picked up the long tongs that she used for the kiln and raised them above her head. Slowly, cautiously, she headed for the door of the workroom to investigate. Peeking around the doorjamb, she didn’t see anything.
“Shoot.” Shaking in her shoes and wishing that one of those three big men who had been around earlier were here now, she slunk out of the doorway and pressed her back against the wall. Holding the long tongs above her head, she slid along the wall until she came to the corner. Carefully, she peeked into the living room. Glass was everywhere. The front window was shatt
ered.
“Crap! Now what?” she wondered aloud, then cringed. She was really going to have to do something about the habit of talking to herself.
Not seeing anyone around, she lowered the makeshift weapon and cautiously entered the living room. She had to be careful of the large shards of glass. That would be all she needed, to step on the glass and bleed to death.
Disgust showed on her face as she looked at the destruction of her living room. Lannie shook her head and turned to go find the vacuum cleaner to get some of the glass up when she heard a growl from outside.
Fear held her immobile. She wondered if it could be Kyle, or maybe that really huge guy, Donovan Vitello. She was hoping it was one of them. If it were anyone else ...
Slowly she turned toward the broken window and looked out into the night. Glowing yellow eyes glared back at her. She could even make out the shine of the animal’s teeth as it growled low in its chest.
Bitch.
Lannie’s mouth dropped open. She had understood the wolf when he barked, the same as she could understand Kyle. She knew it was a he from the sound of the voice in her head. He had called her a ...
“Wait just a minute! Did you just call me a bitch?”
More growling and barking came from the wolf outside. You mated with the cur. Bitch! You will die for that.
He was really starting to piss her off. “Just who do you think you are, you mangy mutt? Calling me names. Just get out of here before I ...” She trailed off as he stepped toward her.
Tell him that you’re next, he growled out.
“What do you mean, I’m next?”
The creature didn’t answer her, shockingly, he leapt toward her. Lannie screamed and fell to the floor among the broken glass. In her fright, she started to change. Her body was uncontrollably flexing and popping, reshaping itself into the wolf form she had acquired. The glass was cutting her in several places, but there was nothing she could do about it while she transformed.
When she was able to think again, her clothes were shredded and scattered about her on the floor. She was a wolf and bleeding from several cuts.
