by Kate Douglas
It progressed closer.
She jolted, dancing back on her paws, thoroughly alarmed. Whatever it was, it wasn’t heeding her warnings. That meant it thought it could take her in a fight. What the hell thought it could take out a wolf? It couldn’t be a bear; a bear was too big to fit in the cave. It had to be her size or smaller. Was it insane?
Scent drifted into her section of the cave: wool, leather, dust, earth, old blood, and cold human.
A human? She sifted through the more subtle scents. The human was male, with silk, oil, steel, and gunpowder. A gun. She snarled in pure reaction. A stinking hunter? This high in the mountains in winter? The scent of oiled steel smelled small, like a pistol. What kind of idiot went into a wolf’s cave carrying only a pistol?
She crouched, her muscles bunching tight, in preparation for a lunge. If he wanted to kill her, he was in for a nasty shock. It took a hell of a lot more than a mere pistol shot to kill her. Her voice dropped to a deep, rumbling growl. Last chance to escape death, idiot.
Light flared in the inky blackness of the cave.
She blinked and flinched back, but her growl remained.
A man, with long straight silver-white hair, swathed in a bulky black wool coat, knelt at the tunnel’s exit with one gloved hand held palm up. A tiny ball of light floated above his hand—a ball of light that did not smell like fire.
Her ears flicked forward briefly. Light without heat?
He spoke in a language she didn’t know, but there was no mistaking his meaning. “Wolf.”
She curled back her lips and flattened her ears to her skull. Stupid human. What else did he think was growling, a bunny rabbit?
His eyes opened wide and reflected the light above his hand with an emerald-green shimmer.
Every hair on her body rose. This might look human, but it wasn’t human. Human eyes reflected red, like a rat’s, and they did not reflect easily.
The light rose from his palm, floating toward the cave’s low ceiling.
Her gaze followed the curious floating light.
The man smiled, showing long upper incisors and shorter lower ones, the teeth of a hunting predator.
Her gaze locked on the creature’s bared fangs. A deliberate challenge? Snarling in anger, she dropped to a crouch. Fine, die. She lunged, teeth bared to rip out his throat.
He caught her by the fur of her throat and was bowled over backward by the momentum of her charge. He snarled, baring his long teeth in her face.
She snarled right back, writhing in his grasp, snapping for his arms, his face, his throat, anything she could reach.
Twisting with incredible dexterity, he kept her fangs from his skin while holding her with ferocious strength.
She writhed and stretched her neck. Twisting suddenly, she sank long teeth into his forearm, tearing through the wool of his coat to reach flesh and blood. Got you!
He threw back his head and shouted in pain.
His blood filled her mouth, thick and hot—and nasty. It burned in her throat like whiskey. She pulled her fangs free but couldn’t escape the taste.
His black eyes wide, he stared straight into her eyes and shouted.
A black spike slammed into her mind and sizzled down her spine. She yelped in surprise and pulled back.
His fingers closed tight in her neck fur, holding her gaze locked to his. He spoke. She didn’t know his language, but the meaning was crystal clear. “Be still.”
Black pressure smothered her anger. Her growls stilled in her throat, and she froze, trembling.
He spoke again, his words an indistinguishable waterfall of liquid syllables, and yet she knew their meaning. “Your bite is deep, but my blood is strong, yes?” He sat up slowly, easing her back and off him while holding eye contact. Gripping her neck fur with one gloved hand, he stroked his other gloved hand down the silver fur of her shoulder. His voice dropped to a low croon. “Yes, wolf, be stilled. Be at ease.”
Languid ease infiltrated her mind and spread, making it hard to think, making it hard to stand upright. Off balance, she rocked on her paws.
“Yes, very good, you are a brave wolf.” He stroked her neck and shoulders with both hands. “Rest. Lie down, and sleep.”
Pressure increased on her mind. She wanted to rest. She wanted to lie down and sleep, just like he said. She stilled. Like he’d said? It was him; he was in her head! She jerked back.
“Wolf?” He caught her by the neck fur. “What disturbs you?” His narrowed gaze pierced into her mind, probing her thoughts with smoky black fingers.
She twisted sharply, fighting to break away, and a frightened whine escaped her throat. Get out! Get out of my head!
“What?” His silver brows rose and then dropped. “A wolf should not have such thoughts.”
She froze. He could hear her? He was listening to her thoughts?
His gaze focused. “Human intelligence? How is this?” His curiosity drove fingers of darkness deeper into her mind, questions looking for answers.
Panicked, she twisted her head to break eye contact. No, no, no! My secret!
“A secret!” He gripped her neck fur and fought to keep eye contact. “Tell me your secret!”
No! She reared up and back, dragging him with her.
“Yes!” He wrestled her to the cave floor and pinned her on her side, holding her down with his greater weight. He caught her long muzzle and forced her gaze to his. “Tell me now!”
A steel spike of power slammed through the center of her skull. She howled in agony—and changed.
Thorn snapped aware, naked and curled up on the icy stone floor. She shivered and opened her eyes.
The silver-haired man poised above her on his palms, framing her naked body with his. His expression was one of complete astonishment. His eyes narrowed, and his long teeth appeared. “Who has done this sorcery?”
She wrapped her arms about herself and trembled with cold and fear. He had forced her to change into her human form. Would he kill her now?
APHRODISIA are published by
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New York, NY 10022
Copyright © 2007 by Kate Douglas
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ISBN 0-7582-2299-8