by Michele Hauf
“Yes, I’m sending out scouts to verify,” Alexandre said.
“Good.” Creed shook off images of the beautiful blonde vampire he’d buried only a decade earlier. “Report back in the morning.”
“Will you be answering in the morning, old man?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Full moon madness. Anything going on at your place tonight?”
“Bonsoir, Alexandre.” He hung up and tilted back the two fingers of whisky.
The golden liquid slid smoothly down his throat. This stuff never burned. It was that good. Smirking at Blu’s suggestion he drink the whole bottle, Creed thumbed the label.
That she was nervous about the change made him anxious.
He was in for the ride now. Completely. He’d married a werewolf out of contract, but now he took the vows seriously. He wanted to know his wife wholly.
But would tonight forever change his mind?
Maybe after a little moonlight madness, he’d be all for a war against the wolves. Would his wife become his lover as well as his destroyer?
Pouring another two fingers of whisky, he set it back with a swallow.
Rachel would have approved of Blu. The vampiress had been quiet and demure, but her secret fantasy had seen her fearless and insatiable.
“To Rachel,” he said, and tilted back another drink.
Above, at the far end of the house, a rangy howl echoed. He moved abruptly to the bottom stair. It was such a familiar call. So…wrenching. It stirred memory. Flashes of a walk through the forest one midsummer medieval night choked the breath from Creed.
“Mon Dieu.”
The wolf’s howl was very distinctive, and there were many kinds of howls, he knew, each meaning something different. This one he had only heard once before, and only now did he understand the horrible crime he’d committed.
He clutched his chest and huffed out his breath.
She sounded like a wild wolf he’d once seen in the snowy forests of Blois. Creed remembered pausing to watch as the wolf passed before him, leery and revealing teeth. It had not attacked.
Perhaps it had sensed he wielded a wolf-killing battle sword.
And yet, he had advanced. He’d slain the wolf after tracking the same longing howl through the forest. The wolf had growled at him. He’d thought it a male wolf. Well, he’d never seen a female before so hadn’t thought it anything but. And then he’d taken off its head.
“Her head. She’d been in heat,” he said now. “Not a threat to me. Christ, Saint-Pierre, you bastard.”
He sank to his knees on the bottom step.
The howl came again, skittering across his shoulders and down his spine. There, it dug in, clutching his bones and rattling them.
What kind of monster would slay a female? A werewolf who had only been craving love, connection, the basic needs of sexual congress. Blu would be horrified if she ever found out.
Would he be compelled to harm the werewolf tonight? An innate reaction to an enemy so ingrained he might not be able to see past the creature and to the woman he now loved?
You have changed since then. You have. Use it.
Creed nodded. “I will prove to them all I can be trusted, and as a representative of the vampire nations, that we can all be trusted.”
He stood and ascended the stairs, following the echoing howl.
His wife waited.
DARKNESS FILLED THE open doorway at the end of the long, upper floor hallway. Even as Creed approached with sure strides, he could scent the musk in the air. Not offensive, yet he did recognize it as a mating scent.
Vampires had no such inclination to seek and bond with one mate, nor did they go through extensive rituals finding that mate—beyond ensuring that the mate took their bite. The bite was key. So he wasn’t sure how to approach tonight.
Since they were different species, it wasn’t a bonding ritual from Blu’s point of view, nor from his. But this coming together of two species might bond them in ways neither could anticipate.
She howled again, another low, mournful tone.
The low-pitched howl again cracked the darkness. Was she feeling confrontational?
How dared he have slain the wolf in the woods. And yet he’d been blind to all but the blood and the power of his sword back then.
Creed quickened his steps.
No battle sword was required this night. He would tame this beast with kisses and love.
He stepped into the bedroom—and was knocked to his back, arms splaying across the ancient rug. Something thumped his chest and crouched upon him.
The loose red dress she’d worn earlier stretched tight across her breasts. Wild dark hair dangled in his face. Wicked fangs had cut through her bottom lip. A drool of blood trickled down her chin.
Still her features were human. Nothing wolfish. Yet.
Blood scent tingled in Creed’s teeth. Now would be the worst time for his fangs to come down. He didn’t want her to think he was trying to be aggressive. He imagined her werewolf saw him only as a longtooth, the enemy.
“Just walk in on me then?” she said on a growl. Her voice was deeper, throaty. “No man for me.”
A hand swiped him at the shoulder, lifting Creed and tossing him against the wall. The icy sting of a cut opened flesh and blood seeped from his shoulder. A good thing for his wanting blood hunger, because his own injury would mask the scent of her blood until he healed, which wouldn’t be long.
The werewolf waved a hand at him, long talons slashing the air. “Hey, big boy? Wanna take me on? You’re going to have to do better than that.”
She sliced a claw down the center of her dress, cutting it open to reveal her gorgeous breasts. Her muscles were tight, her abs firm and strong. Her skin glistened with perspiration. But he sensed she was more somehow.
Creed splayed his hands. “I don’t want to harm—”
He didn’t see the attack coming, she moved so swiftly. Putting him up against the wall, Blu held Creed under the throat, her stretched hand tight against his Adam’s apple. His feet dangled above the floor.
She cracked a menacing smile.
Now she was making him angry.
With but a flick of her wrist, she sent him flying toward the bed. He twisted midair, his back connecting with a bedpost. It splintered and broke as he went through it.
“Oh, yes!” Blu tore off the damaged post and wielded it high. She stabbed at him, missing.
Creed managed to twist the makeshift stake from her hand. “We’re not going to stake the vampire tonight.”
A slash of talon cut through his chest and tore the shirt down one arm. Her eyes glittered. “My bad.”
It was apparent this werewolf had only dealt with the alphas from her pack. Creed had to set aside his need to be gentle with her—or take a stake to the heart.
He would need more than just cunning tonight.
A breath stirred his air magic and whipped the stake through the room. The serrated wooden tip speared the wall.
“Tricky,” she cooed. “Is that all you got?”
Swinging an arm around, he clocked Blu under the chin and thrust her across the bed. Springing on top of her, he pinned her shoulders. “You want to get laid, wolf?”
Her growl could be construed as a sexy plea. Or a pissed-off warning.
She tussled beneath him, but he sensed she did not use her full strength. She’d thrown him to the wall once already; she was no pup.
“Let’s do this,” she said on a wicked snarl.
She gripped his hair when he kissed her. Their mouths bruised one another, their fingers and limbs moved with intention, forcefully and not gently. Every movement was extreme. She kissed him wildly, demandingly, as she pumped her hips against his, bucking and asking for what she wanted.
But when he reached between her legs, she snarled and then chuckled loudly.
“Not so fast, longtooth.” In less than a blink it was he who lay beneath her, pinned by the shoulders. “You gotta earn this on
e.”
“I’m assuming that means you want me to get rough with you?”
She bit his lower lip and tugged. “Just try to keep up, big boy.”
She scampered off the bed and he followed, finding her mood more playful now than violent.
Had her flinging him against the wall been mere play? His shoulders still ached. And while the bite hadn’t broken skin, it had certainly amped up his hunger for rough play.
Time to get into super werewolf sex mode.
Twisting his head and cracking his knuckles, Creed crouched and caught his charging wife as she collided with his body. Claws tore through his deltoids, painfully opening the muscle.
Her fangs gnashed the air, but he knew that teasing smile.
How would he keep up with a moon-frenzied werewolf? Foreplay had become rousing real play with a dangerous edge.
Raising a hand, Creed flicked his wrist, directing his magic at her. It overtook the were and slammed her against the wall. She struggled against his unseen hold and then let out a howl. Through it all, she grinned.
Creed released his hold. She charged him. He flew out of the way and ended up on top of the dresser. She lunged for him and he jumped, leaping high and rolling midair to land on both feet.
“Nice magic tricks,” she said. “Dodge this, vampire.”
She charged. When he feinted to the left, she matched the deceptive movement and collided with him. They landed on the bed. The mattress slid, and Creed lost footing. He went down with a painful twist to his spine.
Blu’s face tilted horizontal to his. “Gotcha.” She kissed him quick, then licked her tongue from his nose up his forehead. She dashed into the darkness, leaving him groaning.
He slapped a hand over his chest, feeling the muscle already knitted back together. Hell of a way to seduce a man.
“I want to go out and run!” Blu declared.
A run? That was a big no-go. A werewolf on the loose wouldn’t sit well with the neighbors.
“Thought you wanted to have sex?” he called. Easing upright, he winced at the stunning pain strafing his back. The woman was strong. And he dared not use all his strength, no matter what.
“You can’t keep up.”
“I’m still alive. That’s got to count for something.”
He moved through the darkness, pinpointing her panting breaths. And there, the dark sweetness of her blood. With a twitch of his fingers, Creed stirred the air into a whirl and wrapped it about his wife’s body. So he could never give up his magic for personal use. Drawing her to him with a command, she landed in his arms roughly.
“Gotcha.”
The wolf growled and struggled, surprised at the sneaky move. “That’s not fair.”
“All’s fair.” Creed kissed her until she succumbed and whimpered for more.
When she bashed a fist behind her into the wall, the drywall shattered.
Blu chuckled freely. She swaggered in his embrace and shoved him hard. He landed on the mattress, angled half on and half off the bed.
It was going to be a long and adventurous night.
Fitting his leg between hers, Creed managed to flip the powerful wolf to her back. He pinned her by the wrists. Blu met his gaze with a defiant stare. So bold, her gray eyes. Trusting. He could not consider harming her, as he’d earlier worried. She did not struggle. He sensed she was giving him some slack.
Or else she was plotting new ways to overthrow him.
“I love you, Blu,” he said, and licked up the side of her neck to bite the lobe of her ear not too gently. His fangs were down, he now realized, but he cautioned himself not to break skin or draw blood. Never without her permission.
She arched her chest up to nudge against his and he palmed her breasts. The werewolf’s legs snapped about his hips and slammed his groin against hers.
“Let me get my pants off,” he said.
“You’re too slow.” Claws ripped down the each side of his leg, releasing him from the clothing and drawing blood at the same time. “Did I hurt you? My bad.”
“The pain you give me hurts so good, lover.” He kissed her breasts, holding her firmly because she was all energy and movement and he didn’t want her to slip away this time.
But she did not. She was ready for him. The vampire had tamed the wolf.
Entering her was like being overwhelmed by bliss. Creed gritted his teeth and his body shuddered as her sweet warmth clutched him tightly. He wasn’t sure, but he thought her inner muscles were even more powerful in her current state.
“Mon Dieu, Blu. I won’t last long. You’re so…hot.”
“Not this way.” She shoved him off her—and out of her—with a firm palm.
Lying back on the pillows, Creed wasn’t about to let her keep fighting. He wanted her. He needed her. Now.
She knelt on all fours on the bed beside him and wiggled her sweet derriere. “Now,” she whispered in a voice that was all sexy, teasing Blu.
So the wolf liked to do it doggie style? That made sense.
Hugging her against his body, Creed entered her from behind. He found a rhythm that made her whimper sweetly, and accompanied the friction by rubbing his fingers across her clit.
He could sense when his wife neared the edge, because he raced alongside her to that same precipice. They came together, she crying out in a feminine sigh that rose to a low and satisfied howl.
Creed shouted and spread out his arms. He thrust back his head and shoulders, still firmly hilted within her, riding the luxurious orgasm his wife had granted him.
His werewolf wife.
Blu’s howl suddenly cracked. She reached back and smacked him on the shoulder, which effectively shoved him off the bed.
And then he heard a sound with which he was dreadfully familiar. The subtle cracks and uncomfortable moans as bone redesigned within skin and grew, changing, altering…
Blu flipped about on the bed. A long-taloned paw snapped out and slashed Creed across the chest, sending him colliding against the wall. He touched the deep wounds that revealed bone. Blood gushed over his fingers.
Before him stood a completely shifted werewolf.
Chapter Sixteen
THE CREATURE STANDING before the wall bled. The scent frightened her, and at the same time, it seemed familiar. How could that be?
He held out a hand, coated with blood, entreating. Blu sniffed. Did he want her to slash the hand from his body?
Straightening her spine and putting forward her ears, she sniffed the air intently. Hackles bristled. The atmosphere was familiar, as well. But this was not a natural surrounding. The earth and fauna scents were missing.
Where was the pack? The aggressive scent of her males was not apparent.
“Blu, it is me,” the creature said in a calm voice.
She tilted her head, processing the familiar tones. It was human-speak. She understood some of it.
A whuf came up in her throat. She sniffed again and leaned forward, towering over the creature who wasn’t quite man. He smelled…different.
“Your husband.”
The words made little sense. A simple bark or howl was all she required to communicate. Her muscles were lax, and she understood now she had just mated with this one. And it had not been unpleasant.
Perhaps he was trustworthy.
Stepping forward, she brought her muzzle up to sniff along his face. His blood scent was sweeter this close. She lashed her tongue up his cheek, tasting salt and perspiration and some blood. Why the blood?
Baring her teeth, she growled lowly. Longtooth.
The man remained perfectly still. She could not sense his heartbeat, but the warmth of him told her he was alive. Unafraid. And had not made a move to harm her.
It is safe here. She innately sensed that.
And with that reassurance, Blu stepped back until her legs collided with an object, and she toppled on the soft surface as her body began to shift. Fur receded and bones changed. Skin moved. Her face ached the most where her muzzle shortene
d and she became completely human. The shift from werewolf to were was painful, but forgotten as quickly as it occurred.
Her arms stretching out and legs bending up to her stomach, Blu curled up and closed her eyes. She shivered as her wolf body gave way to bare flesh. All parts of her ached now. Her memory was not complete, but she sensed she must have been fighting.
She felt the tender trace of Creed’s fingers along her torso.
“Love you,” he whispered beside her ear and, moving behind, he nestled his body next to hers.
BRIGHT SUNLIGHT FILTERED through the skylight. It didn’t fall directly on Creed, so he figured it must be after noon. He’d never worried for the sun before. Soon he’d have to move as the sun tracked the sky.
If he could move. His muscles were lax, his entire body warm with satiation. All energy was drained after a night of insanely acrobatic and intense lovemaking.
He stared at the skylight from the island of mattress that had found its way to the corner of the room. He crooked a brow. There was a pillow stuck in the crystal chandelier.
To his left, the Louis XIV chair was stuck in the wall by two legs, its watered silk cushions shredded. A slash through the wallpaper left hanging wisps of flocked emerald velvet. Two makeshift stakes—bedposts—were stabbed into the walls. The rug was bunched near the door. Feathers from the pillows snowed across the box spring, angled on the bed.
And at his side, a small warmth curled snugly against his aching ribs. Her hair spilled across his chest like black silk. Her fingers, now sans claws, were wrapped about his semisoft cock.
Like a peaceful kitten, she purred in sleep. Or was that a worn-out puppy?
Creed stroked her hair, but she didn’t stir. How could she after the night they’d had? She’d revealed herself to him. And there may have been a few moments when he’d considered retreat.
Yes, even this former battle-hardened warrior had been shocked at the change in his petite princess. She’d become feral and wild, wary of submission, and not about to be pushed around. Wanting, needing and eager to take what she desired by tooth or claw.