“It’s okay, Tessa.” Marcus’s voice was quiet.
“No, it isn’t. Transforming would basically amount to you giving your body over to your dweller. The control you’ve shown so far has been remarkable, but no one could handle that.”
“I can.” He spoke with utter confidence.
All of her mother’s lessons, everything Tessa herself had witnessed, demonstrated that werewolves were violent monsters. Their dwellers turned them into killing machines who lived to inflict pain and suffering. They were almost as bad as the thing she would turn into if she wasn’t careful—or if Edgar caught up with her.
There was no way Marcus could be a werewolf. Werewolves needed the support structure of their pack to remain even mildly sane and functional.
Marcus was stable. Protective. Kind, even.
The Blades had to have it wrong. Didn’t they?
An edge crept into his voice. “Not all werewolves are mindless killers.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tessa said.
“As a matter of fact, I do.” He stared at her, gold eyes igniting.
He let his duster slide down his arms, then tossed it toward his bike. Once again, she was struck by his amazing physique—the lean muscles of his forearms, his narrow waist and broad chest.
Dexter took a few steps back. “You might want to give him some space.”
Tessa stayed put. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to show Marcus that she refused to be intimidated or maybe…that she was starting to believe him.
He took out his earpiece and tossed it to Dexter, then pulled his black T-shirt over his head and threw it on top of his duster.
So many scars.
Now this—this—she could believe was the work of a werewolf. Of a pack.
Bite marks. Claws. She had seen similar patterns on corpses. Never on someone who had survived.
She had watched a pack play with their victims at one of Edgar’s revolting “dinner parties”. Tessa had been powerless to do anything about it then. All she could do was vow that she would never turn into a creature capable of such cruelty.
But if Marcus was a werewolf, and he was this in control…
She looked past the scars, to the lines of muscle, the rows of abs beneath his olive skin. The strong arms that he had wrapped around her, offering comfort, keeping her from doing something he knew she would regret later.
He hadn’t hurt her. She’d never been afraid of him or even near him. He made her feel as close to safe as she’d felt since her family was torn apart, before she knew that monsters were real and she was in their crosshairs.
It didn’t seem possible, but in the short time she’d known him, he’d started to feel like home.
He kicked off his shoes, his bare toes curling on the ground. He began to unfasten his pants, but paused.
“Do you mind?” he said.
She smirked at him. “Are you kidding? This is the best part.”
If they’d had sex before she knew about him—about what he was—she would have regretted it. But now…
“I need you to stop looking at me like that.” His nostrils flared and he closed his eyes for a moment. “And I really need you to stop smelling like that.”
“Like what?”
“I think you know.” He lowered his voice. “I’d rather not have my boss see me with a raging hard-on.”
“Seconded,” Dexter said. “Quit flirting and get to work.”
Tessa crossed her arms and stared at Marcus, no longer afraid to hold his gaze. “Maybe you should think about baseball or something then.”
He sighed, but quickly undid his pants and slipped out of them, tossing them on the pile.
Marcus—naked—was absolutely glorious. His legs were corded with muscle, toned and not bulky. A light dusting of dark hair covered his thighs.
According to the Blades, that would be turning to fur soon. The thought of it helped squelch her libido.
His dick, on the other hand… That was another matter entirely.
There was so much they could do together. But first, they had to deal with these Redcaps.
She pulled her gaze away from his groin and stared at him expectantly.
“One last thing,” he said.
Before she could ask what he wanted, he stepped forward and gripped her by the hips, pulling her against his chest. Her hands went to his shoulders more to keep her balance than anything else.
Until she felt the heat of him. Until his lips came crashing down on hers, his tongue thrusting into her mouth.
He brought one hand up to bury it in her hair, grasping a handful and holding her where he wanted her. She grabbed his hair quite a bit less gently than he was holding hers.
She needed him to know she could match his passion, if not his strength. She used her other arm to pull herself up higher, pressing more of their bodies together.
She bit at his tongue, tangled hers with his, raked her nails along the side of his neck. He wrapped his free arm around the small of her back, lifting her up off her feet. She was just about to wrap her legs around his waist when Dexter cleared his throat behind them.
“Stop messing around,” Dexter said. “We have a job to do.”
Marcus let out a low growl as they released each other and Tessa slid down his body. His eyes glowed so brightly, they cast shadows on his features, emphasizing his cheekbones and the line of his jaw.
Tessa laughed, trying to ease the tension between them. “If you were trying to avoid a hard-on, that was a very confusing choice.”
Marcus was radiating tightly controlled fury. She was kind of pissed herself. That had been a hell of a kiss.
“I wasn’t sure you’d let me kiss you again after this,” Marcus said.
“I have a lot more than kissing planned when this is done.”
Dexter exhaled through his nose. “Come on.”
Marcus ignored him. “What changed your mind?”
“You did. But my mind isn’t completely made up yet.” She took a deep breath, dropping her hands to her sides, not knowing what she wanted, what she needed from him. Before she could think better of it, she spoke. As honestly as she ever had. “Show me. Give me hope.”
Her eyes blurred. She blinked quickly to clear them, but knew he had seen. She willed him to understand what she was asking for.
It wasn’t just hope for a home, hope for a relationship. If Marcus was a werewolf—even she realized that the chupacabra theory was a stretch—and he could control his dweller, then maybe she could control herself when her own change inevitably came. Because she knew it wasn’t a matter of “if” her dwellers escaped. It was a matter of “when”.
Marcus nodded. Then he stepped back, keeping eye contact as he started to change.
Ripples of pale blue light spread over his skin, pulsing and quickening. His chest rose and fell faster as the light intensified. His skin darkened, muscles flexing and bones popping. His lips twitched right before his nose and mouth distended into a muzzle. He shook his head as his ears lengthened and his shoulders bunched.
Fur sprouted everywhere. His…manly parts…pulled back into his torso as his chest extended. His ankles elongated till he was standing on the balls of his feet. His arms lengthened, too, but not as much as his nails—his claws. They curved in sharp crescents three inches at least from the tip of each finger, tapering into deadly points.
The light faded and she was left standing two feet away from a towering, fully-active dweller, who was absolutely, positively, without doubt, a werewolf.
Shit.
She was within range. Easily. He looked down at her, eyes blazing gold, and let out a low, rumbling growl. His breath was warm on her face.
Behind her, she heard Dexter draw his other sword. He’d told her they were infused with silver. Silver worked against any number of dwellers. She didn’t know why it was such a common allergy for alien species. Now she was sure he carried those swords specifically to deal with Marcus.
> “Marcus.” Dexter’s low voice was a warning.
Marcus narrowed his eyes—the growl deepening—and Tessa did the unthinkable. She stepped forward and put her hand on Marcus’s chest.
Chapter Seventeen
Tessa was touching him. Her cool fingers splayed across Marcus’s chest, firm enough to touch his skin through the thick pelt of fur that protected him in this form.
Not only that, but she was standing between Marcus and Dexter. She was protecting him, like a packmate should.
Like a…mate.
Marcus lowered his head to hers, gently brushing their cheeks together. She let out a shaky sigh and burrowed her fingers deeper into his fur.
“Get to the top of that stack of cars,” Dexter said.
Marcus growled at the interruption. Tessa pressed against his chest more firmly, stepping closer.
God, her touch…
“Marcus,” Dexter snapped.
Marcus felt his lips twitch back from his teeth. Tessa curled her fingers, gently raking her nails across his skin.
She kept a brave air, but he could feel her trembling. She was still afraid of him. But she was even more afraid for him. She was pushing through her fear to help him, opening herself up—again.
He couldn’t believe that she had asked him for help, for reassurance about her own change. He needed to show her that he could protect her and keep her safe—and that being a dweller wasn’t the end of the world. He needed her to not give up.
“That surveillance point.” Dexter nodded toward a tall tower of crushed vehicles. “Now.”
Marcus would be able to see the entire clearing from there. More than that, he would be able to leap to just about any spot in it, instantly being on top of anything that dared come near Tessa.
“Go,” she said. “I’ll be okay.”
He growled again. He’d never tried to speak in this form before, but couldn’t leave without reassuring her.
“I know,” he said. His voice echoed, deep and resonant. Her eyes widened and she let out a gasp.
Marcus looked over at Dexter. Even he looked surprised—his eyebrows were hitched up and his lips slightly parted instead of being in a stern line or condescending smirk.
“Protect her,” Marcus said. “Or your swords will not protect you from me.”
Dexter’s cheek twitched. The stern line returned briefly as his expression transformed into a glower that let Marcus know Dexter still wasn’t afraid of any dweller—not even a werewolf.
Marcus was well aware that Dexter had good reason for his confidence. He’d seen firsthand what Dexter was capable of.
But there was something more intimidating than the memory of Dexter single-handedly taking out the entire pack that had killed Marcus’s family. Something Marcus couldn’t believe he’d never realized before, but now felt with absolute certainty.
One man versus a pack of werewolves wouldn’t stand a chance. One human man.
Marcus stared at his leader hard, took a deep breath through his nose. Dirt and rust formed the baseline of what he smelled in the area. Then there was Tessa, her scent still sweet from her recent arousal, spiked through with the stronger notes of her fear. And underlying that, the thickness of leaf rot that centered strongly on her right arm. Her dweller.
And from Dexter… Nothing. Not sweat. Not fear or anger or the adrenaline of heading into battle. Only that weird musty smell, like the pages of an old book.
“We don’t need your threats to make us protect her,” Dexter said.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Tessa said. “I don’t need either of you to protect me. I can protect myself.” Tessa pushed against Marcus’s chest. When he didn’t budge, she stepped back herself. “You guys need to get out more.”
She made the flamethrower’s nozzle release into her hand and gripped it tight. Pointing it away from them, she activated it for long enough to let out a steady stream of fire. A borderline maniacal grin split her face.
“But I have to tell you, at this moment in time, Vaughn is my favorite.” She paused for a moment, then let out a laugh. “Vaughn says to leave him out of it, in case you’re wondering.”
“Your pack is bonding,” his dweller thought.
Marcus made a sound that was half-chuckle, half-growl.
“The running commentary is awesome,” she said. “And here I thought you just kept him around for the gadgets.” Her smile broadened. “He’s giving me grief for that. And reminding me that we have about twenty minutes of daylight left. Damn, this guy is helpful.”
Marcus wished he could keep his earpiece in place when he changed. Or that Vaughn hadn’t designed them so that no one—not even a dweller—could hear his side of the conversation.
Normally, when it was necessary to change, Marcus was with Dexter or on his own. Not having Vaughn in his ear had always made Marcus feel…alone.
He glanced from Dexter back to Tessa, who was still smiling and looking a little distracted—probably from something Vaughn was saying. Marcus hadn’t felt less alone since… Well, it had been a long time.
“Keep each other safe,” Marcus said.
Tessa smiled at him. “That’s better.”
He turned and leapt to the nearest car, scaling the stack as quietly as he could, then making his way to the top of the sturdiest-looking tower. Once he was in position, he knelt down to watch his team enter the expanse of packed dirt at the center of the ring of cars.
When the junkyard had been operational, the open area would have been where people parked before going to the small office tucked beside the crane that Marcus had used to kill the first queen. There was police tape over the door to the run-down building.
Someone had retracted the crane’s hook. He hoped they wouldn’t need it, but it was still good to know it was ready to be dropped again.
Tessa and Dexter walked to the center of the space, then stood back-to-back, gazing out at their surroundings. Waiting.
The Redcaps would be paralyzed by Vaughn’s emitters. Marcus was certain it was working. He doubted they would have been able to have their little chat uninterrupted otherwise. Plus, he couldn’t hear anything scurrying beneath the earth.
Tessa glanced up at him and winked. He let out a snort. Things changed so quickly.
She had plans for him. After seeing how she’d eyed his body right before he changed, he had a very good idea what those plans were. He could hardly wait to take care of these queens and get Tessa back home to the ranch. To start working on making it feel like her home as well.
Minutes passed, the sun sliding further toward the horizon. He didn’t want to face the queens after dark. Marcus would be able to see even better, but Tessa wouldn’t. He wasn’t sure about Dexter.
“These things aren’t that fast,” Tessa said. “Let’s get a little distance between us. They may not like the idea of taking on two targets at once.”
Dexter nodded and moved a few steps away.
Marcus didn’t like it. His growl turned back into an uneasy sound.
They shouldn’t be separating. It would make them easier targets.
Then again, they hadn’t seen any sign of the queens at all. Maybe they had moved on now that the king was gone and their spawning session had been interrupted.
The cars beneath him vibrated ever so slightly. Marcus looked around, trying to find the source of the movement, but he couldn’t see or hear anything. The queens had been huge. If they were approaching, it would be easy to see them, to feel them. There were no visible entrances to their tunnels…
Shit, their tunnels…
“Tessa!”
She looked up at Marcus as he shouted, then took a step toward him. The earth collapsed beneath her feet. Her fuel tank caught on the lip of what looked like a pit trap from Marcus’s vantage point.
As Marcus leapt to the ground, Dexter dropped his swords and threw himself onto his stomach, grabbing Tessa beneath her arms before she could slide all the way into the trap. The bright scent of her blood fil
led Marcus’s nose.
Marcus reached for her, but she shook her head. Lines formed at the edges of her eyes and she grunted in pain.
“Something has my legs,” she yelled. “You’ll pull me in half if you try.”
“Tessa…” Dexter said.
From this close, Marcus could barely hear Vaughn saying something in her earpiece, but couldn’t make out the words. Her eyes filled with tears.
She grunted again. “Let me go and run. I’ll blow the tank underground and take them with me.”
“No,” Marcus roared.
He grabbed the bottom of her tank, holding her in place, then punched through the edge of the hole with his free arm, making it big enough for him to reach into.
A queen was there, staring up at him with dozens of glittering black eyes. Its tendrils were wrapped around Tessa’s legs, the pincers embedded in her flesh.
Marcus roared again, shoving his torso through the small opening he’d made. He grabbed the queen’s tendrils with both hands and started to pull.
The smaller ones tore and the creature let out a horrible shriek that thrilled Marcus. It had attacked his mate. Made her bleed.
“Make it pay a thousandfold,” his dweller thought.
“I will.”
He crushed its mouth in his grip. Beside him, he felt Tessa shift as the tendrils holding onto her let go. Dexter dragged her to safety.
That was all Marcus needed. With a last burst of energy, he sank his weight into his legs and pulled as hard as he could. The queen slid out of the earth, still shrieking.
With one hand, Marcus kept his grip on the tendrils and pincers coming out of the queen’s face. He wrapped his other arm around the closest thing to a neck the creature had and squeezed. Gray ichor poured out of its mouth.
It was a start.
He squeezed the queen’s neck harder, twisting his body at the same time. With a last horrible shriek and a loud pop, its head came off.
Breathing hard, Marcus looked down at Tessa and Dexter. They were both still on the ground, arms around each other and eyes wide as they stared at Marcus. He held up the queen’s head for Tessa to see.
He couldn’t force words from his mouth. Too much energy surged through his body, testing the limits of his control. But he willed her to understand.
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