by Lora Leigh
ed her, dragging her to a halt just before she charged headlong into a clearing. He held a finger to his lips and pointed silently.
“Won’t do you any good to scream, bitch.” A big man stalked a slender blonde, who backed away from him in evident terror. Kat had the ugly feeling he was familiar somehow, as if she’d seen him before. A chilling thought, considering his next words. “I’m going to rip out your heart and eat it.”
“Why?” the blonde cried. “You said you loved me!”
“And you bought it!” He laughed. “Stupid little cunt. None of you bitches are anything to me but gullible meat.”
Kat’s lips peeled back from her teeth in a silent snarl of rage. Meat? Her sister? This poor girl? Meat?
A scream tore from her throat, a shriek of distilled fury. She jerked out of Ridge’s hold, swinging her sword up as she charged into the clearing. I’m gonna hack that bastard’s head off his shoulders.
“Kat!” Ridge snapped. “Wait!”
She ignored him, wanting only to kill, to make the bastard pay for years of fear, anguish, and guilt, of missed childhood Christmases and birthdays experienced as grief instead of joy. Make him pay for her mother’s suffering. Make him feel all the pain he’d caused.
The man whirled in surprise as she exploded out of the dark. “What the fuck?”
“It’s your turn to die, you son of a bitch!”
She got a glimpse of blond hair, of a big, muscular body, of cold eyes widening with a trace of astonished fear.
And then she was on him, her blade swinging in a long, flat arc. By rights, it should have hacked his head from his shoulders.
He ducked. Moving far faster than a human had any business moving, in a fluid explosion of speed.
And he laughed at her. “I always wanted to kill a Maja.”
What? How did he know about . . .?
A gleaming blur tore past her. “Why don’t you try a vampire instead, you bastard? Or don’t you like fighting somebody that can kick your ass?”
Ridge didn’t hesitate when the killer ducked his first whirling blow. He just kept hacking, swinging his sword in great arcs that twisted effortlessly into flashing thrusts. “Kat, dammit, get the girl out!”
Ridge was right—the victim was the priority. Kat threw a look over her shoulder. The blonde just stood there, white-faced and wide-eyed, as if paralyzed by sheer fear. Kat bolted over to grab the girl’s hand and jerk her back toward the woods. “Come on!”
“No!” the killer bellowed. “She’s mine! My prey!” Magic burst from the center of his chest in a bright blue explosion. His glowing outline grew. And grew. And grew.
When it vanished, a huge figure towered there, looking like something out of a horror movie. Easily the height of a grizzly bear, the thing was lean, with a long wolf head and cold blue eyes. His fur was the same blond as his human hair, thickening to a mane on his head and bushing around his naked genitals. Where the hell had his clothes gone?
“Kat, get that girl out now!” Ridge bellowed again.
Kat whirled to drag the girl away even as she realized the monster was the blond man they’d seen at the party, the one who’d been so interested in her locket. She’d felt his evil then, but she’d ignored her instincts.
Ridge had told her the man and his father were werewolves, but she hadn’t imagined anything like this towering monster. No wonder the cops had believed Karen had been attacked by some kind of animal.
She had been.
“Come on!” Kat hauled furiously on the blonde’s arm, dragging her out of the clearing by main strength.
“What . . . what are they?” The girl stumbled, staring over her shoulder as the vampire charged the towering werewolf, sword flashing in great arcs. “What are you?” Like Karen, she couldn’t have been more than eighteen. She even looked like Kat’s sister—same long blond hair and big blue eyes in a heart-shaped face.
“Don’t worry about it!” A gate. They needed a gate. She reached for the magic . . .
And Ridge shouted in pain.
Kat jerked around. Blood rolled down the vampire’s armored side from a huge gash that ripped across his cuirass.
In the flashing instant it took her to register her lover’s injury, the werewolf was on Kat and the girl, snarling mouth gaped wide to reveal teeth the length of her fingers, clawed hands reaching. Kat shoved the girl clear and swung her sword at the monster’s torso.
He threw himself back, avoiding her stroke, then lunged again. She hacked at the clawed hand swinging at her face.
Fast. God, he was fast. He darted right past her guard with that enormous reach. Even as she threw herself back, she felt claws rake her torso, heard the shriek of metal tearing like paper. It didn’t hurt. I’m not going to get out of this alive. The thought cut through the furious blur of action. There was no fear in it, just cold reason. Just her brain’s calculation of the odds.
Fuck it. If I die, I die. But I’m taking this bastard with me.
Kat flew into full extension, the kind of fencer’s lunge she’d used in college, thrusting her blade toward the monster’s chest. And it bit deep.
He roared in pain and fury. She didn’t see the blow coming until it hit her with the force of an armored Humvee. Pain detonated in her shoulder, a bright and sickening blast, and she went flying. Hit the ground hard, light bursting in her head as she struck. Blinking, Kat stared blankly at the moonlit trees overhead. She’d never been hit that hard in her life.
Get the fuck up, Kat!
Somehow she rolled to her feet, staggering, shaking her head, sick and aching.
Ridge had faced off with the monster again, despite the scarlet flow that slicked the right side of his armor.
The girl was crawling on the leafy ground, trying to get away from them all, blood running down her face. Impossible to tell if it was her own.
We need reinforcements. The thought slashed through Kat’s consciousness a breath before she remembered the ring her father had given her.
“Lancelot du Lac!” she bellowed. “Dammit, I need you!”
And nothing happened.
TEN
Lancelot!” Kat bellowed again. Nothing.
“So much for his magic ring. “Say my name, and it will bring me to you,” my ass. The bastard had never been there for her before. Why should he ride to the rescue, just because she happened to be fighting nine feet of psychotic fur?
Shaking off the growing dizziness—she suspected a concussion—Kat lifted her sword and prepared to charge.
“What?” her father snapped from behind her. Then: “Holy God! How did you piss off a Direwolf?”
The relief she felt was so great, she wanted to kiss his handsome, irritated face. “That’s the bastard that killed my sister.”
Lancelot swore.
Ridge ducked a vicious clawed strike, came up, thrust, missed when the werewolf twisted aside like a matador. Kat raced toward them, swinging her own sword up. Damned if she’d let that monster kill Ridge too.
Before she could reach her target, a streak of black fur shot past her with a snarl like a chain saw. She jerked back—another one?—and almost swung her sword at the great black wolf. Then she realized it was slashing at the Direwolf’s huge muscled haunches with fanged jaws.
Lancelot had vanished. Where’d he . . . ? Holy hell, he’d become the wolf. Ridge had said shape-shifting was a vampire ability.
At least the blond girl was making good use of the distraction the vampires had provided. On her feet again, she staggered from the clearing, throwing panicked glances back over her shoulder as she ran. Her would-be killer howled in frustration, but couldn’t get past Ridge and Lancelot to follow.
Where the hell was Grace? Kat had hoped the other woman would come with her husband, but apparently not. Too bad, because they could have used a Maja who knew what the hell she was doing.
Well, Kat had a sword and a couple of vampires. That would have to be enough.
She focused on the towering m
onster. Ridge and wolf Lance were circling him, one distracting him while the other darted in to slash with sword or teeth. Kat slid into the space between them, looking for an opening for her own assault.
Now—while he was focused on Ridge. Kat lunged, swinging her sword.
He wheeled, quicker than any cat. One huge hand snapped around her armored neck and jerked her right off her feet. His other hand wrapped around her helmeted head, started to pull . . . Oh, Jesus, he’s going to rip my head right off my shoulders! She yowled in terror and swung her sword, but he was too close, and the blade’s guard glanced harmlessly off his shoulder.
The werewolf howled in agony, his clawed hand losing its grip. Kat fell like a rock, hitting the ground in a teeth-rattling heap of armor and blade.
Over her head, Lancelot the wolf had buried his fanged jaws in the werewolf’s groin. The monster swung one enormous paw, catching the vampire across the skull. Lance’s furry body went flying, slamming with vicious force into a tree. The wolf bounced off the trunk, hit the ground, rolled.
And did not get up.
“Lancelot!” Kat’s heart seemed to freeze in her chest.
idge assessed the situation with all the skill his sixty years of combat experience gave him.
We’re screwed.
Kat had taken a raking stroke down her torso, Ridge was wounded, and Lance was unconscious. At least they had all done damage to the . . .
Magic flared and pulsed around the Direwolf, blinding and blue. When the glare died, the creature had become a golden-furred wolf the size of a pony. It gathered itself to dive on Kat, who still lay stunned at its feet.
Ridge stepped in, swinging his sword like a baseball bat. The wolf fled, snapping. Before Ridge could catch it, magic swirled around the big beast again, and the Direwolf was back, injuries fully healed by his magical transformation.
Yeah. We’re screwed.
He could heal his own wounds by transforming—so could Lance, when he regained consciousness—but there was always a moment of disorientation to the process. It wasn’t much, but the Direwolf wouldn’t need much of an opening to lay one of them open with those claws.
The son of a bitch was not only nine feet tall, with the strength to match, he was incredibly fast. It was no surprise they were having so much trouble defeating him: Direwolves had been created by Merlin himself to kill rogue Magekind. Too bad the alien wizard hadn’t realized the problem they’d face if a Direwolf went rogue.
If they could get a call to the Mageverse, they could bring in reinforcements. Unfortunately, Kat was having trouble with her magic. Which was no surprise; Ridge knew more about using magic than she did.
Kat was up at last and running toward Lancelot, apparently intent on helping her father. The werewolf lunged after her, jaws snapping. Ridge cursed and raced in the creature’s wake. The monster whirled on him, a long arm lashing out. Metal shrieked as those huge claws ripped a hunk out of his helm. Blood flew. He ignored it, swung his sword. Cursed under his breath as the Direwolf ducked with that incredible speed and agility. Ridge continued his attack, forcing the monster away from Kat, who whirled away from Lancelot and moved to help him.
They had one chance—and it wasn’t much of one. If he and Kat could Truebond, they could reinforce each other’s power and experience.
Normally it would take hours of work and magic to form the intense psychic link of a Truebond. Luckily, Ridge and Kat were already partially linked from triggering her Gift earlier that evening. If he could deepen that link . . .
He found the thin connection already fading in the back of his mind and threw his consciousness along it. Kat . . .
Ridge? Astonishment rang in her mental voice. How . . . ?
We’ve got to Truebond. Combining our abilities is the only chance we’ve got to beat this bastard and survive.
But I don’t know how!
I do. He hoped.
He’d better.
pen to me. Ridge’s voice whispered the words in her mind, a seductive mental purr. Reach out to me. Use your magic. His gaze met hers, intense, demanding. He didn’t seem aware of the towering furred figure stalking him.
If this doesn’t work, we’re both dead. So I’d better make it work. Concentrating hard, Kat caught at that mental cord to his consciousness, simultaneously drawing on the magic in her own core.
Bind us, he breathed, staring deep into her eyes. Braid us.
Behind him, the Direwolf’s cold blue eyes narrowed, seeing Ridge’s distraction.
Ridge . . .
Don’t worry about him. Concentrate on me.
Kat saw what he wanted her to do; the image was so plain in his mind. She caught her breath as she realized in a flash the risks and implications. The connection would be so strong, the death of one would kill the other.
So we just won’t die, he said, even as he pivoted like a dancer, swinging his sword in a hard arc that drove the werewolf back.
Kat grabbed the magic, forced it into the thread, raw energy pouring faster and faster, binding them tighter. Mind to mind, heart to heart, will to will, as frozen seconds ticked past. The werewolf’s lips drew back from those dagger-blade fangs as he circled them, waiting for his chance.
In slow motion, Kat watched the monster’s clawed hand draw back. Ridge lunged at him, deliberately focusing the creature’s attention even as his bond with Kat grew stronger. His magic flowed into her as hers flooded him, a burning circuit of power that brightened with every passing second.
Her muscles grew stronger, responding to his strength. Her skin felt hot, swollen. Kat lifted the sword and waited for her opening, even as her heart howled at the risk.
Ridge swung his sword, deliberately leaving himself wide open. The Direwolf lunged just as it had before, clawed hand catching the vampire’s chest, ripping through armor and flesh and muscle. Ridge bellowed in pain, keeping the creature’s attention. The towering beast’s lips drew back from his teeth, and he prepared to rip out his foe’s throat.
Kat stepped up behind the werewolf, leaped upward with all the vampire strength Ridge had loaned her through the Truebond. Her sword swung in a blinding arc of steel and magic, slicing into the werewolf’s thick neck. She felt the crunch of bone against her blade, and then the great head spun from the beast’s shoulders. It hit the ground, eyes wide with astonishment in the instant before they glazed into death. The massive body slowly crumpled, collapsing in a pile of fur and claws beside its severed head.
Kat didn’t stop to gloat. Ridge toppled, his body convulsing from the fatal wound he’d deliberately invited from the monster’s claws. She hit the ground beside him and planted a hand in the center of his bloody armor. Light flared around her palm as she gave him back the magic he’d loaned her. In a flash of light and power, he transformed into a wolf.
And scrambled to all four feet, his horrific injuries instantly healed.
Kat wanted to throw her arms around him, but there wasn’t time. Lancelot needed her. She wheeled . . .
Just as a gate whirled into glowing being halfway across the clearing. Grace leaped through it, racing for her fallen husband with fear vivid on her pale face. “Lance!”
The moment her hand touched the wolf’s furry head, he shifted in an explosion of light. Lancelot raised his now-human head wearily and gave his wife a tired smile. “Took you long enough.”
ELEVEN
It turned out Grace and Lancelot had been working a terrorist bombing at an Iraqi school when they’d gotten Kat’s call. Grace had stayed behind to help dig injured children from the wreckage while Lance had gone to help Kat.
“Scared the shit out of me when I felt him lose consciousness through the Truebond,” Grace told them once Ridge had returned to human form. “I was afraid I wouldn’t get to him in time, but there was this little boy who was dying.” She shrugged. “I had to heal the child first, and that took time.”
“As well you should have,” Lance told her, rising to his feet and offering his wife a hand up. “I
can take care of myself.”
Grace rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Right.”
Kat frowned. “Speaking of magic, we need to find that girl the Direwolf tried to kill. He’d caught her with his claws at least once, and she’s going to need healing.”
“And that’s just the physical damage,” Ridge said, his face grim. “The psychological stuff is going to be even rougher.”
Grace nodded. “Better let me take care of that. I’ve had a lot more experience in dealing with that kind of psychic injury.”
“What are you going to do?” Kat asked, curious.
The Maja raked a lock of long hair back from her face with scratched and bloody fingers. Apparently she had her own injuries from digging through all that Iraqi rubble. “Blunt the kid’s memories. And it needs to be done now, before they burn in and she winds up with post-traumatic stress.” She caught her husband’s arm and gave it a tug. “Come on. Use that vampire nose of yours and find her for me.”
Lance cast a grim glance toward the werewolf’s body. “Then we’re gonna have to contact the bastard’s father and tell him what happened. He’s not going to like hearing he raised a serial killer.”
Grace winced and sighed. “No. We’d better take Arthur and Morgana along. We’ll need all the firepower we can get, if we’re going to have to break news like that.” She twined her fingers with her husband’s, and the couple started to turn away.
“Lance . . . ” Kat said.
The big knight looked back at her. “Yeah?”
“Thank you for riding to the rescue.”
He shrugged. “Hey, you’re my daughter.”
She gave him the first genuine smile she’d had for him. “Yeah, that I am.”
at listened to the fire crackle as it shed a golden glow over Ridge’s gloriously naked body. He lay sprawled on the huge fur throw she’d conjured in front of the fireplace, his skin contrasting with the dark, shimmering mink.
Selecting a strawberry from the silver tray at her elbow, she took a tart, juicy bite, then another sip from her champagne glass. “I could get used to this magic thing.”
Ridge’s long fingers curled around his own glass, lids dipping lazily over brilliant green eyes. “It does have its appeal.” He wasn’t talking about the champagne, either. She could feel the sexual heat humming through him as he admired the full curve of her breasts and the line of her long legs.
Kat smiled at him and chose another strawberry. Took a slow, taunting bite. His rumble of male hunger made her grin.
For the first time in her life, she felt beautiful. Struck by the thought, Kat considered it. She’d always known she was reasonably attractive—she’d been hit on often enough, though she’d never really felt comfortable with male admiration. Maybe because she’d never really trusted any of those men.
She trusted Ridge. Would have trusted him even without the Truebond.
He smiled at her, sensuous and lazy. I trust you too, babe.
“Good, because you’re stuck with me.” She hesitated, a new and vulnerable thought flashing through her mind. Does he mind? We’re connected now. We couldn’t break the Truebond if we wanted to.
Of course, Ridge read that flash of insecurity. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His green eyes met hers in the fire-light, serious and intent. “Kat, I love you.” And he meant it. She could feel the love in his mind, a pure, warm glow.
She smiled in delight, basking in that lovely sensation. “And I love you, Ridge Champion.” He sat up, put his glass aside, and reached for her. Kat fell into his arms with a soft moan, quickly muffled by his kiss.
Ridge tasted of champagne and his own distinct male heat. His tongue entered her mouth, a slow, tempting slide, rich with seduction. His body pressed against hers, all hard, hair-roughened muscle. She let her fingers drift over him, exploring the warm ridges of definition, the shape of his back, his broad shoulders, his strong throat. He purred in pleasure against her fingertips, a delightful male rumble. And began to explore her in turn, finding curves and hollows, tracing the contours of a jutting nipple until she quivered at the arousing, velvet sensations.
Each sensation had a lovely, shimmering echo as he experienced what she did, returning the pleasure in a sweet feedback loop. Making love to Ridge had always been amazing, but the Truebond gave passion an entirely new dimension. For one thing, she could feel what felt best to him, could zero in on precisely the right pressure, the right combination of nail and fingertip and tongue and tooth to drive the delight even higher.
Somehow that rising passion quickly turned into a sensual contest there on the thick fur throw, as each sought to drive the other crazy.
Ridge won by simply lifting her onto her knees, spreading her legs, and pinning her astride his face with a hand on each of her thighs. All her helpless squirming did her no good at all against his vampire strength.
“No fair!” Kat gasped, and moaned as he dragged his tongue the length of her sex.
His only answer was a wicked little chuckle as he settled down to lick swirling circles around her clit.
God, the sensations were mind-blowing. Ridge’s mouth felt so hot, so perfect, as he used his tongue in tiny, delicate little flicks. Even as she gasped, he reached up her body to find one nipple. His fingers strummed and plucked the furled bud, creating jolt after sweet burning jolt of delight, like a series of delicious electric shocks.
But Kat wasn’t so easily overwhelmed. She twisted with the agility of a natural athlete, reached back, and found his cock. Big as it was, it made an easy target. A smile of sa