Half Wolf

by Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

  “I will offer you a gift,” she said thoughtfully. “A werewolf so vicious that stopping him will halt the flow of wolf blood to many people, and possibly keep you from facing these same problems again.”

  A murmur went through the Fey gathered there. Kaitlin felt the wave of their interest go through her, as well, as if she truly were one of them.

  The tall Fey moved forward. Kaitlin had to look up to find the pale gray eyes looking back at her. “Deal,” that Fey declared. “For now.”

  When Kaitlin smiled, she was again in the park, on the opposite side of that glimmering portal, surprised to see that stars shone here also, in a sky gleaming with the silver light of a huge round moon.

  A werewolf moon.

  She’d been gone a full day at least in the Fey time warp. Michael wasn’t there, waiting, as she had hoped. As the wolfishness coursing through her veins began to twist her into her alternate shape, Kaitlin howled.

  Chapter 29

  The entire pack had no further reason for guarding the building where Chavez had been. Without his full horde of beasts, this master had to search for replacements. He’d be flushed out of hiding tonight by the pull of the moon.

  Michael acknowledged the others waiting with him with an inclination of his head. Beneath tree cover that was lacy and insufficient for stalling transformations, some of the pack had already shifted into the man-wolf hybrid combination of Were that walked on two feet and still wore their clothes.

  He wasn’t like them. Neither was Tory, who stood a little apart from the others, still in human form, a feat that told Michael that like him, the red-haired wolf might also have a special ability that separated her from the rest.

  He hadn’t been ready to leave his post at the portal, and had sent messages to Kaitlin until his mind was weary, hoping she’d hear him, receiving no replies. He had felt her nearness to that damn Fey doorway, and had held himself back from leaping through it to find out if he was right.

  And still, she had not appeared.

  And the damn portal had vanished, as if it had never been there in the first place, rendering his search for Kaitlin useless. Leaving him heartbroken.

  It’s time, Dylan said, looking as fair and formidable furred up as he had been in human form.

  “Yes,” Michael agreed.

  A rustle of accord went through the group. Above the din, he swore he heard Kaitlin speak a few words in the unfathomable language he’d heard her use once before.

  Was she calling to him? In need of help? He couldn’t find out without the damn portal.

  Had the entire world gone mad, or just him? Because he sensed her. Felt her, as if she was nearby and might appear at any moment.

  And then he heard her howl. He hadn’t made that up. The others had also turned toward the sound in the distance.

  Michael shouted, “Follow me. This way.” Excited, and with his heart in his throat, he followed the echo of that howl.

  He ran like the wind, feet churning up the ground, senses flooding with hopeful thoughts. It didn’t take long to find her. God yes, Kaitlin was there, in the center of the old part of the college’s overgrown, grassy field, standing on all fours and as motionless as a statue. She was in a state of full transition, all wolfed up, her glossy fur shining in the moonlight. Her eyes tracked his approach, but she didn’t call out.

  He wanted to reach her, hold her, thank his lucky stars for her return. Something in her stance stopped him from doing any of those things. She was waiting for something, and focused on whatever that was.

  Several students passed her by, perhaps thinking her a dog waiting for its master. In truth, she had another agenda altogether. Kaitlin wasn’t waiting for him to find her. She had not planned on him coming in time. Kaitlin had someone else in mind to lure, and every Were with Michael knew who that was.

  Suddenly he appeared. Chavez. The devil himself. Had to be. Tall, his body partially covered in dark hair, waking upright on two legs…and Lycan.

  Holy hell… The gaps in Michael’s mind filled in. All the dots lined up. Chavez wasn’t any old werewolf. He was a pure-blooded atrocity. A Lycan gone bad. That was where the monster’s power, strength and insight came from.

  Michael saw no mask of madness on Chavez’s face. The beast had to realize that Michael and the others were there. Lycan senses were nothing short of miraculous. Yet Chavez didn’t appear to care about having an audience. His eyes were on Kaitlin, the Fey wolf with a power to lure most species, as she waited for him to make a move.

  Her welcoming growl rolled to meet this monster maker. Her fur ruffled in the wind that was her particular calling card and proclaimed her secret of being something other than entirely wolf.

  Mesmerized, Chavez moved toward her.

  Michael inched forward. The pack at his back did the same.

  Two more feet, and Chavez put out a hand, the way a person might do to allow a dog to determine if that person was friend or foe.

  “Kate,” Michael whispered. “What game is this?”

  She growled again, and backed up. Chavez followed with two more steps toward her. For Michael, that was two steps too many. He moved, breaking into a sprint. Kaitlin, in wolf form, and after who knew what else had happened to her behind the portal, had the faster reflexes.

  She ran, virtually flying over the ground. Chavez, in full hunting mode that made chasing down prey a foregone conclusion, followed her. He might even have believed he was invincible. But there were far too many of his enemies here.

  Kaitlin slid to a stop beside the building that housed Chavez’s ill-fated fight club.

  “No!” Michael shouted to her. “Stop!”

  Two more beasts ruled by Chavez appeared on the roof and began to climb down. Michael heard Cade growl. Rena seconded the sound, already heading for the wall to greet those monsters. Two Weres from Dylan’s pack followed.

  A figure stepped into Michael’s sightline. In the shadows, and while under the cover of the roof’s overhang and out of the moon’s reach, Adam Scott was suddenly at Kaitlin’s side. There was a flash from the weapon Adam carried. Silver bullets, Michael chanted to himself. Use them, Adam. Put an end to this.

  Of course, that was too easy, was the unanimous thought that came from the group beside Michael. After successfully avoiding capture for so long, the mad beast could be bested by a bullet?

  Kaitlin’s next howl split the silence. Loud, harrowing, her call seemed to herald the arrival of a much worse outcome than Adam’s bullet had promised.

  Though Adam had a finger on the trigger, and Michael and the pack barreled forward, Kaitlin’s call was answered in a faster manner.

  Clouds covered the moon, throwing the scene into darkness. A fierce wind whipped at them all, holding Michael and the others back with the force of a hurricane.

  Adam’s back hit the brick wall behind him with a smack that had to have rattled his bones, but his gun was still aimed at Chavez. Michael could feel Adam’s finger begin to squeeze, as if his own finger was moving.

  In the time it took for the gun to fire, a hole in the atmosphere opened up and a second blinding flash of light lit the area. The bullet sailed toward Chavez. He flailed, howled menacingly, and thrashed the air with his claws as hands nearly the same color and consistency of the light winking around them pulled him backward through a brand-new portal.

  The two remaining beasts fought to go after their leader, and the good guys helped them along. The last thing Michael heard before the portal disappeared was the sound of Adam’s silver bullet striking its intended, if invisible mark. And then his eyes moved to Kaitlin, and found her looking back.

  He could have sworn that she smiled.

  *

  Michael had said his goodbyes to some of Dylan’s friends. Tory and Adam, Dylan and Dana were camping out in his living room and making the best of it. He heard laughter and the recap of events, as well as the clink of glasses toasting Chavez’s defeat.

  Kaitlin was nestled in his arms on his be
d, and Michael didn’t wish himself anywhere else. He didn’t want for anything else, either, and imagined he never would.

  His she-wolf was breathing softly against his neck. Despite what she had been through, she was still smiling. That smile alone could have done him in.

  “You’ll tell me about it someday?” he asked her, rolling over to stretch out on top of her feverish body for the third time in less than an hour. “All of what you went through in that other place?”

  “Is nothing scared?” she replied, lifting her arms over her head to take hold of the bedposts, bracing herself for what was coming next.

  She had assimilated her Lycan blood and was game to indulge in the physicality of a passion that was likely to last all night, every night, if he had his way. Michael refused to think about the price the Fey had exacted from Kaitlin for letting her return to him. Someday, she would be able to talk about it.

  “You are my drug,” he whispered to her, placing a trail of kisses on her forehead, her cheek, her nose, before landing on her lush, waiting mouth. “I can’t get enough.”

  “It’s a Fey thing.” She accepted the pressure of his lips and moved her hips seductively against his hips.

  “Maybe I’ll learn to like the Fey,” Michael teased, feeling every inch of her gleaming nakedness beneath him, from the raised pink buds of her breasts to her long, lean thighs. He’d had his mouth on all of those places tonight, and promised himself he would soon start all over again.

  Right then, his patience had taken a hike.

  In all honesty, though, patience had never been one of his best virtues.

  He inched Kaitlin’s thighs apart with his own and settled his hard length between them, affirming again that he was not wolf-whipped, and that an Alpha had to maintain some dignity with which to command the respect of his pack. He’d use Kaitlin’s Fey lineage as an excuse for being unable to keep his hands off her. Hell, he wasn’t entirely sure that wasn’t part of the real reason he loved her so much, anyway. She certainly was like no other.

  Kaitlin’s gray eyes bored into his. Her breath was warm and sweet, when she had proved herself to be anything but passive and sweet in the past few days, and in the hours since their return to his bedroom from the battlefield.

  “I am the Alpha,” he reminded her as she nipped at his tattoos with her human teeth.

  “Yes,” she said, grinning. “And I am no mere wolf.”

  “Hell. You have that right.”

  Michael matched her grin and eased himself inside her moist inferno. Her head hit the pillows. Her eyes closed. Maybe, he thought, he could take advantage of her weakened state.

  “How did you do it? Get them to take Chavez off our hands?” he asked.

  Kaitlin, withholding a groan of delight, said, “Payback.” As she wiggled her hips, she added, “It’s not over.”

  “No. This is just the start,” he taunted, sliding further inside her and observing how tight her hold was on the bedposts.

  “Vampires,” she whispered, gasping as he stroked her insides the way she liked it best, and as he returned to her mouth, determined to capture her next breath.

  “I think our pal Chavez will have taken care of a fair share of the bloodsuckers, maybe even giving us a break for a while. He cleaned out two nests in those basements,” Michael said, pausing, drawing his hips back.

  Kaitlin’s hands left the posts. She snaked her arms around him, letting her hands slide sensuously to his lower back, and then to his buttocks. With the force of her passion alone, she pulled him back, raised her hips, urged him on.

  There was so much he needed to find out about Kaitlin, and about her family’s secrets. He had to know what had gone on behind that portal, and how she had solicited the help of a species that loathed mankind and included werewolves in that despicable roundup.

  Because of her, Clement, and possibly other cities, had been saved from bite clubs. But Devlin had stressed that the Fey always demanded payback for a favor. An eye for an eye. So, what had Kaitlin promised them in return for their help with Chavez?

  Would he ever realize the extent of things left unanswered? He wanted to ask her about it now. His form of payback would be one kiss in return for one answer. Or maybe something better than a kiss. After all, a long lifetime together lay ahead.

  “I can hear you, you know,” Kaitlin said, blinking up at him.

  And then…

  Then…

  The consummation of their love, their desire, their bonding, became all. As Michael pressed the evidence of his love deeper into Kaitlin, she muttered another stream of unintelligible Fey words that ended in a deep, rumbling growl.

  And hell, he knew what to do with that.

  *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from TEMPTING THE DRAGON by Karen Whiddon.

  Get rewarded every time you buy a Harlequin ebook!

  Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010003

  Get rewarded every time you buy a Harlequin ebook!

  Do you want to earn Free Books and More?

  Join Harlequin My Rewards points program and earn points every time you shop.

  You can redeem your points to get more of what you love:

  Free books

  Exclusive gifts and contests

  Book recommendations tailored to your reading preferences

  Earn 2000 points instantly when you join—getting you closer to redeeming your first free book.

  Don’t miss out. Reward the book lover in you!

  Click here to sign up

  Or visit us online to sign up at

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010001

  We hope you enjoyed this Harlequin Nocturne story.

  You harbor otherworldly desires…. Harlequin Nocturne stories delve into dark, sensuous and often dangerous territory, where the normal and paranormal collide.

  Enjoy two new stories from Harlequin Nocturne every month!

  Connect with us on Harlequin.com for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Other ways to keep in touch:

  Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  HarlequinBlog.com

  Tempting the Dragon

  by Karen Whiddon

  Chapter 1

  “A lake monster?” The elderly man peered at Rance Sleighter as if he’d shown up drunk at church on Easter Sunday. Never mind that they were standing in front of Rex’s Hardware store on Main Street in the small town of Forestwood, New York. Upstate New York, which Rance understood as anywhere north of New York City.

  “Yes, a lake monster,” Rance repeated patiently, mentally wishing, as he still did several times a day, for a beer. The craving never went away, but at least now he knew he was strong enough to resist it. He hadn’t been once, right after his wife, Violet, had died. His drinking had cost him too much for him to ever go back.

  Meanwhile, he had to think of Eve. As usual, the thought of his tiny stepdaughter made his gut clench. He’d loved her since the moment he’d met her, when he and her mother had started dating. Luckily for all of them, Eve’s human father, Jim, and her mother had remained on civil, almost friendly terms. Rance and Violet had even invited Jim to their wedding.

  Now Violet was dead and Eve lay seriously ill in a hospital bed in Houston, silent except for the steady beeping of the machines. Though Jim had taken custody, he’d allowed Rance full visitation. The two men had remained friends, sharing Eve’s love.

  She couldn’t die. She wouldn’t die. He wouldn’t let her. The thought strengthened his resolve. Eve was why he’d come here. No matter what, he refused to let her down. He’d do anything for his little girl. Even find a lake monster.

  “The story has traveled all over the country. It’s the reason I’m here. You can’t tell me you haven’t hea
rd about it.”

  The old man puffed up at that. “Harrumph. I might have heard nonsense, but you won’t catch me discussing it. You want to talk lake monsters, go talk to the witch’s family.”

  “The what?”

  “You heard me.” Pointing a shaky finger north, the codger grimaced. “Burnett family. Daughter is a witch. I’m sure they’ll be delighted to discuss lake monsters with you.”

  And then, while Rance struggled to formulate a reply, the old-timer stomped off, heading across the street toward a restaurant titled Mother Earth’s Café.

  As small towns went, Forestwood had a picturesque, holiday-postcard-type of appeal. The brilliant reds and orange of the fall leaves helped. In Houston, where Rance was from, they didn’t have much of an autumn. When the trees did shed their leaves, they just sort of turned yellow and fell off.

  He took another glance around him, charmed despite himself. It almost felt as if he’d stepped back in time. Fully restored old buildings lined Main Street, and all of the houses surrounding downtown were large and beautiful and…old. Painted and pretty, but from another era.

  Not his thing. Rance grimaced. Give him a sleek modern condo downtown in any large city any day. Much less upkeep, especially for a guy who lived the way he did—constantly on the move in search of the next story. If he were to be perfectly honest, which he usually was, a guy who stayed on the run from his internal demons.

  Dramatic, too, he supposed. Guess that was what investigative journalism and losing his family had done to him. Lifting his camera, he snapped a few shots of the street with the beautiful trees in the background. Nice to get a sense of place to go with the story.

  His stomach growled, reminding him it had been a while since he’d eaten. What the hell, Mother Earth’s Café sounded as good as anything else. He could go for a juicy hamburger right now.

  As soon as he stepped inside, Rance took note of how many diners were crowded into the small room. That might have been due to the restaurant’s relatively tiny size or the fact that he hadn’t noticed any other eating establishments in the immediate vicinity. Whatever the reason, the scent of good food—beef and fried chicken among other things—made his mouth water.