She pressed her face against the cool glass, wondering what the night would bring. Would they all die? If anything happened to the pack, wouldn’t it be her fault? How could she live with herself?
A black shadow diverged itself from the surrounding trees, a man wearing all black—artistically torn Levis and a silk shirt that shimmered. The man drifted with inhuman grace, far beyond what even a werewolf would have managed. He glided to the center of the lot and stood facing the station, silver chains at his neck glimmering. His pale face glowed beneath his long, brown hair. That narrow, sharp face was one she would never forget.
She backed up from the glass, a scream caught in her throat. She swallowed it. Not useful. Her heart fluttered too fast. No! It’s too soon. I want more time. It didn’t seem she was going to get any.
Her fear washed over the pack like a swift tide. “He’s here,” she said, knowing they would hear her. The door to the backroom was open, and Jackson strode through.
“Get in the back, Deanna.” Jackson’s voice was deep, half-growling. His shoulders hunched and bulged with shifting muscles and his eyes glowed fire.
She stepped behind the counter and ripped off her sweatshirt. The change was fast. She had been doing it all her life, and the flow of magic moved through her as inexorable as when Jackson made love to her. Both acts required a touch of submission along with firm control, and as she gave herself to the magic her bones shifted, her muscles moved, and her flesh reshaped.
Her wolf was on the small side, with golden brown fur and heavy ruff. She whined, her fear eating at her. Her mate put a hand on her head and calmed her. As long as the alpha led, the pack would survive. That was all that mattered to a wolf. Her instincts overran her human worries and doubts. Her hackles rose and a deep growl rumbled her chest as the enemy approached.
The others were about her now, closing ranks.
The door opened, bringing with it a smell of the outside—asphalt, car exhaust, humans, and oh, the best of all—the forest. How she wanted to be among the trees. Why had they trapped themselves in this human fortress? A wolf didn’t need four walls for protection. She needed to run. The smell of the living-dead hunter reached her nose and she whined in fear.
He stood only a few feet into the station and smiled a toothy grin. The teeth that filled his mouth were too-long and pointed to be human. The terrible scent of dead flesh hit her nose. It wasn’t the reek of decomposition, but it was the smell of death nevertheless.
To the wolf, beauty in humans was ignored, but she knew he was beautiful. She had seen him with her human eyes. His face was young, though his eyes were old. Old and bored. His skin had the pallor of the dead, and his eyes gleamed bright like a cat’s in a dark room. He ignored Jackson who stood human in front of him, and his glowing gaze found her in the back. He breathed in, as if scenting her, his nostrils flaring. He smiled in slow motion, exposing too-sharp teeth under his pallid lips. “I advise you to give up the little wolf, Packleader. I will take her and leave you to yours.” His voice was beautiful, each word pronounced with an upper class English formality.
Her tail came down between her legs, and she crouched. Perhaps Jackson should do it. Should give her up. What point was there in fighting?
“We are mated. If you attack one of us, you attack us all. Do you really want a war, bloodsucker?”
The vampire moved faster than even a wolf could track him. He grabbed Jackson by the shoulders and tossed him out the large front window. The crack of glass shattered the silence. Wolves growled and jumped forward into the fight. But the vamp chased her, swatting them aside as he leapt forward. His eyes shone with a crimson power.
She ran, hoping to lead him away from the pack.
Jackson was still alive, she could feel him changing shape—but none of them could survive for long. For the good of the pack, she had to get him to follow her. She ran for the back door, the one beneath the green exit sign. After hitting the bar in the middle with her torso, the door flew open and she ran out into the dark night. The cool air caressed her fear-filled mind and she raced into the embrace of the trees.
The primal northwest forest comforted her terror, bringing reason back. She still planned to die—but just as she had led the bloodsucker away from her brother, she now needed to lead him away from the pack. They called her back, but she fought free. The good of the pack was more important than the good of the one.
Jumping fallen logs and dodging through brambles, she raced but not madly, not without reason. This forest wasn’t empty, and she didn’t want to lead the vampire into anyone’s house or yard. She kept to the thickest part of the woods, away from the smell of humans, and hoped to slow him down on the blackberry bushes and tangled brambles. She stretched her body, the soft debris of the forest floor cushioned the pads of her feet, the scents filling her mind with the joy of being alive, of running free.
He was right behind her, though not with the clumsy, lumbering rush of a human. No, he swooped behind her, barely touching the forest floor.
It wouldn’t be long now.
A clear space loomed ahead, but not someone’s yard. The smells of metal and exhaust from industrial lawnmowers burned her noise. The wide track was unavoidable. She burst out of the trees and into a power line corridor cut through the forest. The massive towers loomed high overhead, reeking of steel and buzzing with electricity. She raced for the other side, hoping to reach the beckoning forest.
His thin, bony hands grabbed her back and tossed her up into the air. She hit the sloped metal of the tower and fell to the weeds at its base. She landed on her feet and turned to face him, teeth bared. Growling, she leapt at the pale column of his neck. If she could just get a hold of him…
He batted her aside, laughing. His pale face floated like a moon above her, but not her moon, not the one that sang to her of power, this one held only death. His eyes flashed crimson.
“Finally, my she-wolf. You are mine. You ran me a merry chase.” His smile was a flash of long, pointed teeth. “I like you, remember? When I’m done with you, I’ll go back to that town of yours and kill your brother, or maybe I’ll start with the children. One by one, they will disappear into the night. The FBI will come. A task force will form. But they will be looking for a human serial killer, not me. Not Death himself.” He laughed. “I am the implacable reaper. Come, give in to me. Lie down and submit as you did for that big alpha—and maybe then I won’t go back to that dim-witted little hamlet you’re from. Perhaps, I’ll just stay here. One village is as good as the next.”
He stalked toward her and she jumped again, snapping her teeth on his arm and tasting his foul blood. The cool liquid tasted to her like something inedible—like gasoline. The impulse to spit him out and gag nearly overwhelmed her.
She forced herself to dig her teeth in, to chew his flesh despite repulsion. He hissed and grabbed the scruff of her neck and threw her to the ground. Before she could jump back to her feet, he smashed a knee into her ribcage. She snapped at him, ripping off a finger, but couldn’t get up. The cracking sound of her ribs breaking filled the clearing, and she whined in agony. His sharp teeth gleamed in the light of the newly risen moon.
The smell of her mate came to her nose, and Jackson hit the vampire from behind. They rolled away. She struggled to her feet, the pain ignored but her breathing rough. She hoped a rib hadn’t torn into one of her lungs.
For a moment, all she could do was stare after Jackson. His wolf was huge and black, not a natural color for wolves, but one she had seen now and again on werewolves. The tips of his tail and nose glowed silver, and he was huge, the largest werewolf she had ever seen. His gold eyes shone with fire as his massive jaws dug into the shoulder of the vamp. If he had been fighting a human, he would have torn the arm off.
The vampire seemed merely annoyed. He twisted and punched the massive wolf hard. Jackson landed on his paws and leapt back. He clamped his huge jaws around the creature’s skull.
Deanna rushed in, biting the vampire�
��s arm. He swung her like a boy being bit by a mouse and threw her hard into the metal leg of the tower. The blow sent shockwaves of pain through her already damaged body. She couldn’t breathe, and blood gagged her. She gasped, trying to get air into her lungs.
Jackson’s raking teeth ravaged the vampire’s face, stripping half his skin away, and his skull glowed white. Still, he laughed. The black wolf moved fast, teeth slashing and chomping, his huge hunched body knocking the vampire to the ground. Snarls and the sound of flesh tearing filled the clearing, while blood splattered over the grass like a warm rain.
She limped forward, tried to find a place to put her teeth.
The bloodsucker took hold of Jackson’s head and twisted, the crack loud in the sudden quiet. He shoved Jackson to one side and floated to his feet, flesh hanging off him in strips and his bones, sinew, and muscle gleaming under the silver radiance of the full moon.
Jackson didn’t move.
Deanna howled, though she knew he wasn’t yet dead. His heart faltered in his chest. The rest of the pack was close, but they wouldn’t get there in time. Good. She didn’t want anyone else killed because of her. She crouched as the vamp approached her.
He grinned, his face a macabre nightmare. One eye dangled. “Now. Finally. We are alone.”
She trembled, waiting for those cold hands to close on her, but she didn’t run. This had to end.
She snarled and snapped at him. As a wolf, she couldn’t die without fighting—so he was going to suffer one more bite, at least. The only thing she regretted was not being able to spend more time with Jackson. He was truly an alpha worthy of his power.
The vampire reached for her, but before she could lunge back, a shadow moved behind him.
She caught yet another dead scent, this one mixed with cologne and the smell of laundry detergent.
The shadow put a pale arm around the bloodsucker’s neck, lifting him off his feet and driving a stake into his heart.
The vampire screamed, an unnatural sound that sent shivers through all who heard it.
And he melted. His flesh liquefied before her eyes, tumbling inward and the bones collapsing, until all that was left of him was a puddle of filth and a pile of white-gleaming bones. The smell made her whine.
A different vampire stood in front of her, his dark eyes glowing, and his black hair messy as if he had just woken up. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt that had the words “Got Milk?” on his chest. She gaped at him. He smiled. A dimple flashed in one cheek. “Hello, beautiful. So you’re Creed’s mate? I’m Henri St. Thomas.”
She might have bit him if he had bent close, but he stepped back, winking. “Have a good night,” he said before disappearing.
The rest of the pack rushed to her and Jackson, and suddenly noses, fur, and panting surrounded her. She pushed past them until she reached her mate. He lay so still. She licked his bloody cheek, whining at him to get up, to heal. Why were his eyes closed?
His pack raised their voices to the moon, the howls probably heard for ten miles in every direction. She pushed at Jackson with her nose. Was he still breathing?
Sorrow gripped her. The mate bond ached between them, and she could feel his struggling heart. One beat. Another. She raised her voice to the moon and called on the magic.
He whined, and she ran a circle around him in excitement. She could see him healing. Feel him mending. The shattered bones knitted together beneath his torn flesh and the bloody wounds closed. The pack magic surrounded him, gave him strength. Her tail was crazy wagging, like a dog, but she didn’t care. She licked his face and touched his nose with hers, and he gave her a soft bite to tell her that he would be fine.
After climbing to his feet, he staggered a bit, but his wounds were healing. His heart beat strong and sure in his chest. His gold eyes found hers, and then he was licking her face, and she was licking his. Her mate. Forever.
When he was ready, they ran into the forest together, with the full moon’s blessing shining down upon them. The others ran too, and Deanna gave herself to the pack. She joined her senses to theirs, welcomed the awareness each shared with her. They ran as one, and it felt like coming home after a long, long journey.
EPILOGUE
She awoke the next morning curled against Jackson’s side, naked and yet warm. They lay in a small, rocky alcove. The moss cushioned their bodies and the sunlight fell dappled through the green canopy of the forest. Birds filled the air with song, and somewhere distant she heard a stream rushing. It was a beautiful day.
And the vampire was dead.
Tears came to her eyes, and she buried her face against Jackson, his warm arms coming around her and holding her tight. Grief for her grandmother poured out of her, memories bringing more and more tears. She hadn’t realized how much sorrow she had been ignoring these last few days. Now finally, she could grieve in peace.
Jackson petted her skin and kissed the tears from her face, and at last, her gentle sobs came to an end, and she lay comforted in his arms. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I’m glad it’s over. I just miss my grandmother.”
“You’ll have to tell me about her,” he said, stroking her dark, tangled hair. He picked a pine needle from the clinging strands.
“I will. I want to tell you everything…but maybe not right this second.” She wiggled up even closer, until she was pressed against the full length of his large, muscular body. Blinking the last of her tears away, she smiled up at him.
“Well, we have time,” he said, smiling back. “We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other.”
She stroked his rippled back, touching his terrible scars and his air-cooled skin. “Can this possibly work?”
“From the moment we met, Deanna, you belonged to me, and I belonged to you. I love you and there’s no use fighting the magic. That’s like trying to fight the moon.”
She gazed into his gold-rimmed hazel eyes and slowly smiled. “Well then, we might as well give in to it and see where the magic takes us.” She pulled his face down and claimed his lips.
About the Author
I wrote my first story when I was in the fourth grade—it involved talking animals, a dark forest, and of course, romance. A hundred and fifty handwritten pages later, I knew I was in love with telling stories.
When I’m not chasing after my three kids, walking my dog, or being condescended to by our cat (who believes he is feline royalty), I am chasing after my muses. They always involve strong men and women finding love and passion against the odds. Whether they are ruthless warriors or noble vampires, runaway princesses or powerful witches—I hope my characters resonate with my readers and bring them a well-deserved escape. One thing you can count on, I will always provide a happy ending.
Find out my latest book news at www.CynthiaCarole.com
Also Available at Purple Sword by Cynthia Carole
The Warlord’s Price
Purple Sword Publications, LLC
Publisher of romantic speculative fiction.
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