From one moment to the next, Lily fell sound asleep. Joe smiled. Her hands were curled beneath her cheek like a child’s, but her ass was still hiked on the stack of pillows. Innocence and carnal temptation all rolled in one delectable little package. Lily was quite a woman. If he were looking for a mate…
Joe tugged a pillow from beneath her hips and tucked it under his head. He rolled to his back and stared at the ceiling, trying to block out the aroma of sex, which hung like a pungent cloud above his head. Already his cock stirred on his thigh, unfurling inch by inch.
The memory of her tight ass clasping his flesh aroused and unsettled him, reminding him of the last time he’d loved Darcy. Only it hadn’t been love—he’d touched her, taken her with only thoughts of revenge fueling his actions. He’d tunneled into his partner’s ass, his mouth sipping from her neck, while she’d burrowed into the comfort of Quentin’s arms. Quentin—his sire.
Darcy hadn’t looked at Joe once. Her choice clearly written in the way she’d taken comfort from her vampire lover. When Joe had finished, he’d left the bed and her house—and he hadn’t been back since.
He’d blown any chance he’d ever had with Darcy when he’d blasted her for asking Quentin to turn him. And worse, when he’d nearly raped her.
It didn’t really matter that she was responsible for his current state—he had no excuse for how he’d behaved after he was turned. Her only thought had been to preserve his life after he’d been shot. Instead of understanding, he’d taken her like an animal.
His anger had exploded, fed by his newborn vampire’s hunger. Yet Darcy had bravely faced him, accepting his abuse, even offering her own blood for his first meal. However, the deal he’d entered with her vampire lover, Quentin, ensured he would never know her heat again.
Now, he faced an eternity of loneliness. An eternity of guilt.
Separated from the rest of the Special Unit by his new “status”, Joe was determined to find a way to reverse the transformation that had made him a monster. He’d seen how much pain and destruction vampires left in their wake—understood the dark hungers that ruled his body. He wanted to be human again to protect the world from himself.
Lily murmured sleepily beside him and rolled away from the pillow, settling on her back with a sigh. Joe reached for the lamp and flicked the switch to extinguish the light. He’d let her sleep despite the urgency building between his thighs. Perhaps he could appease another appetite with a little early-morning snack. He rose from the bed and searched for his clothing on the floor.
All dressed, he slipped from the bedroom. Her keys lay on the kitchen counter, and he shoved them in his pocket. The next time he entered her apartment it would be though the front door.
Outside, he turned to the right and headed back down the narrow street, his ears and nose alert to the scent of a meal. It had rained. Just enough so the glare of the streetlamps reflected off the pavement, and the faint stench of sewage clung to the moist air.
A movement in the alley next to the apartment building drew his attention. A rustling, too loud for a dog or cat, was followed by the sound of a low, menacing growl. Joe’s predatory instinct raised the hair on the back of his neck like hackles. Then he caught a scent he didn’t recognize.
A heavy musk—like a man’s, but also like the smell of wet dog—drifted from the alleyway. Every vamp-born instinct screamed for caution. Joe hastened the descent of his canines with a grinding of his teeth.
A blur of motion seen from the corner of his eye was all the warning Joe got before something heavy slammed into his chest, taking him down. A heavy body weighted Joe’s limbs, pinning him to the cement. He had a glimpse of a wolf-like face with flat, reflective gold disks for eyes, thick fur, and a long, dark snout. The black nose poised above Joe’s face, and the creature inhaled deeply. Sentient intelligence gleamed darkly in its gaze, and then it lifted its head and howled—a sound unlike any canine yowl he’d ever heard.
For a long moment, Joe lay beneath it, unresisting and unbelieving. The beast was another kind of monster—one he’d thought a figment of folk tales and Hollywood. Kind of like vampires, before he’d learned differently during his years on the force. If what his gut told him was true, werewolves did exist. And this one looked pissed.
It sniffed Joe like a dog savoring the smell of its next meal. The animal’s hackles rose, and the longer it scented, the louder its rumbling growl grew, until it reverberated within its chest.
The werewolf opened its mouth and long, serrated teeth sank into Joe’s shoulder. The creature straddling his body shook its head, tearing at his flesh.
Joe roared, his lips drawing back in a feral snarl. Adrenaline screamed through his veins, pumping into his muscles, firing the rage in his inner beast. His arms strained against the creature’s weight until the change slammed through his body, adding strength to his human frame.
With a powerful surge, he lifted the beast and rolled with it, smashing the back of its head to the pavement. But then thought became impossible. Rage and the struggle to live supplanted his growing horror. The beast within him warred with the werewolf, their primal cries a din of growls and grunts and fierce bellows.
His inner beast pried the wolf’s mouth from his shoulder, and he pushed its neck back until bones crackled, and the creature made a strangling sound. The wolf’s haunches strained, forcing Joe to roll again, but this time he raised his knee, slamming between the creature’s legs. It screamed and drew back. Joe planted his foot into the beast’s belly, shoving it farther away, and then he scrambled to his feet.
On all fours, the werewolf hunched its shoulders, its head low to the ground as it circled Joe. Beneath the thick pelt, muscle rippled as it poised to attack. The wolf’s unblinking gaze locked with Joe’s.
“What the hell?” A voice from the end of the alley shouted. “You there, need help?”
Joe raised his arm and turned his face away from a bright light that momentarily blinded him. He heard the patter of feet and realized the beast had run to the opposite end of the alley. Forcing his face to reform, he drew in a deep breath and reined in his inner monster.
“Mister!” The voice was closer now. “Looks like you need an ambulance.”
Joe made out the shiny badge and the blue uniform of an NOPD cop.
The large, barrel-chested officer continued to flash his light in Joe’s face. “What the hell kind of dog was that? Animal Control’s gonna need one big mother-fuckin’ cage.”
As the man drew closer, Joe’s human perception sharpened. He realized the last thing he needed was a cop nosing around this little mystery. “It wasn’t like any Rottweiler I ever saw,” Joe murmured his agreement.
The officer shined his flashlight on his shoulder then up again at Joe’s face. “Do you mind me askin’ what you were doin’ in this alley?”
Joe shrugged. A few months ago he would just have whipped out his badge and traded cop talk. Instead, he said, “I heard a sound.”
The officer snorted. “Do you make it a habit to investigate odd sounds in dark alleys? It’s a wonder you’re still breathin’. Looks like he took a chunk out of you—you’re bleedin’. If you’ll come with me, we’ll get that seen to.” He reached for the radio strapped to his shoulder.
With a twinge of regret, Joe lunged, his arm snaking around the cop’s shoulders to draw him close to his body.
The officer struggled, his foot stomping on Joe’s instep, his elbow slamming back into his ribcage.
Joe opened his mouth and bit into the man’s neck.
The officer continued his fight for a moment, and then his body grew slack.
Joe fed for several minutes then lifted his head to whisper in the officer’s ear. “You heard a noise in the alley and investigated, but you found nothing. Spoke to no one. Now go back to your squad car.” He let the man go and shoved him toward the street.
Without looking back, the officer walked away, shaking his head. “Just a damn dog.”
Joe watched unt
il the man turned the corner, and then walked to the opposite end of the alley where he’d seen the werewolf escape. He sniffed the air, but only faint traces of the creature’s scent remained. He retraced his steps, wondering what the wolf had been doing in the alley in the first place. Near the entrance were large trash bins, which served the apartment building. The side door of one was open and a shredded bag of trash lay half in-half out of the bin.
As Joe stepped closer, he saw a piece of paper flutter to the ground. It was a phone bill with the name “Lily Carlson” printed at the top. Heedless of the acrid smell from the bin, he reached for the remnants of the one demolished bag and dumped its contents on the ground. Tissues and feminine articles littered the ground. Lily’s fragrant musk permeated the items.
What interest would a werewolf have in smelling Lily’s trash? Joe’s instincts, his cop instincts, knew this wasn’t a random act. The wolf had targeted Lily’s bag among all the others in the bin.
He hurried back to the apartment building. Until he knew what all this meant, Lily wasn’t going anywhere without him.
*
“You snore.”
Lily lifted one eyelid and glowered at Joe. Only the light from the open bathroom door shone on his features; he’d covered the French door with a blanket. He was lying on his side, his head propped on his hand, watching her.
She hoped she hadn’t also been drooling.
“I do not snore,” she grumbled.
A grin turned up the corners of his mouth. “How do you know?”
“I’ve never heard it.”
“Ahhh…so you only believe what you see or hear for yourself?”
She twisted to look at the digital display of her alarm clock. It was three in the morning. What right did he have to look this good and expect her to engage in an intelligent conversation? She drew a deep breath and lowered her eyebrows to show her displeasure.
His gaze went straight to her breasts, and she realized she was still as naked as a newborn while he was fully dressed. She pretended unconcern with the disparity and tilted her chin. “Any good scientist bases her conclusions on empirical evidence.”
“Yet you believe I fly only because I entered your room from your balcony.”
“Are you telling me I came to an erroneous conclusion?”
“No, I’m telling you that you jump to conclusions like the rest of us. Sometimes, you trust a kernel of evidence and believe what you want to believe.”
Lily opened her mouth to give him a rebuttal, but he pressed his finger over her lips.
“Sometimes, you have to forget about the survey data, or even what your own eyes tell you, and just trust your gut.”
Lily knew he was talking about more than her snoring. “I can trust,” she muttered.
“Is there anyone you trust fully? If he said, ‘I’ve seen the Loch Ness monster in Lake Ponchartrain’, would you trust it was true?”
Lily thought hard. The Loch Ness monster?
“Is there anyone you’d believe?”
Lily felt her frown deepen and didn’t care her forehead probably looked as wrinkly as a Shar-pei’s. “So I snore.”
“That’s better,” he said, his expression too intent for this conversation to be over.
She wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say, especially if he was going to say he was leaving. “It’s not very gentlemanly of you to mention it.”
“I thought you’d like to know. And I never said I was a gentleman.”
A yawn caught her unawares, and her jaw stretched wide. She wished he’d stop staring. She knew her hair was likely squashed on all sides making her head look really, really long, and that her face wore a roadmap of pink sleep creases. While he looked so damn unrumpled she knew he’d never slept.
But he had showered. She sniffed. He smelled powder fresh while she was as ripe as the inside of a gym bag. “I must have fallen asleep. Do you have this effect on all your women?”
“Would you trust me, Lily?”
His tone was so serious, she knew he wasn’t going to let her lighten his mood. Besides, she wanted to trust him—she really did. Instead of a direct answer, she demurred. “Did you wake me for a reason?”
She’d disappointed him. It was as if a veil swept over his face, wiping the intensity from his expression, leaving a pinched, wary look on his face. “What can you tell me about werewolves?”
“That they have hairier chests than yours?”
He didn’t appear to appreciate her attempt at wit. His lips thinned. “Besides that.”
“You’re serious, right?” At his curt nod, she sat up and reached for her robe. She didn’t know how he could concentrate with her naked beside him—she couldn’t concentrate while one part of her brain wanted him to caress her breast or glide his lips over hers.
When she’d arranged the fabric to cover herself, she sat cross-legged on the mattress. “Well, there’s pretty much an international tradition of folktales describing shape-shifters. Of humans who could transform into animals—often into animals people considered their foes, like wolves, bears, and lions. Of course, there’s the Hollywood version of werewolves—they can only be killed with silver bullets, they change to wolves during the full moon—”
“Is it?”
“Is it what?”
“A full moon?”
“I can check my calendar. Why?” Lily realized something was wrong. His change of clothing, the difference in his mood since she’d fallen asleep… “You’ve been out. What happened?”
Joe’s face darkened, and his gaze swung back to nail her, accusation in his dark eyes. “Why would a werewolf be nosing around you, Lily? What aren’t you telling me?”
Lily shook her head. Werewolves? It was as unlikely as having a vampire in her bedroom. “Are you sure?”
Joe shoved up the sleeve of his fresh T-shirt to expose his shoulder. Long, angry red gashes, already scabbing over, marred his skin.
She gasped, and her gaze returned to his face. “A…wolf did this? You couldn’t have mistaken a German shepherd or some other large dog for a wolf?”
“It smelled like a human,” he said, his voice flat and hard.
His gaze was so intent she feared he could read every thought that flashed through her jumbled brain. Then her mind slowed to embrace a single clarifying thought. He wanted her trust. No, he needed it. Whatever had happened to him before, he’d lost trust somewhere.
Without a single shred of proof, she relaxed and accepted that she wanted to love him. She’d give him her trust—even if that was the only thing he ever wanted from her. Without wavering, she looked into his eyes. “All right, you met a werewolf tonight. Have you ever seen one before?”
He drew in a deep breath. “I didn’t know they existed.”
“You’re sure he targeted me?”
“Yes, and I think it has something to do with your scent.”
She grimaced. “I’ll take a bath.”
He gave a sharp shake of his head. “No, your woman’s musk is very distinctive. I noted it right away.”
Not sure that was a flattering remark or not, she said, “What brought you to the conclusion he was interested in my…musk.”
“He pulled your trash bag out of the bin—the one with your feminine items.”
Lily blushed and toyed with the belt of her robe. “You mean, my panty liners, right? I told you I have a problem.”
Joe’s hand settled over hers, and he squeezed. “I don’t mean to embarrass you, but I think your problem is more significant than just a hormonal imbalance.”
Lily nodded, but she didn’t want to discuss her feminine hygiene any further. “Those scabs look like they’re over a week old.”
“Vampires heal fast.”
She blinked. “I should be taking notes.”
“You know you won’t be believed if you publish your findings.”
Lily gave him a lopsided smile. “My colleagues already think I’m a bit wacky because of my area of specialization.” Sh
e wrinkled her nose. “They only tolerate me because I’m multi-published and Hollywood has me on speed dial.”
“So why did you choose vampires?”
Lily looked away. He didn’t know it, but she’d promised him her trust. Trust bled both ways. “I never knew my mother, but my father was my whole world. We moved a lot when I was growing up. I didn’t know why. One night we came home, and someone was in our house.” Lily took a deep breath, trying not to let the horror of that night get to her like it always did.
Joe’s palm cupped her cheek.
She leaned her face into it for a moment, and then straightened. “My father attacked him. Killed him. Afterward, Daddy didn’t call the police, even though he was hurt. We didn’t pack our things—we just left.” She blinked to dry tears filling her eyes. “I didn’t know how bad he was hurt. Before he died, he said I should be wary. That the man was a vampire.” She looked into Joe’s troubled gaze. “He said vampires are my mortal enemies.”
“So why would you seek other vampires?”
Lily shrugged and felt the tears spill onto her cheeks. “I had to know he wasn’t crazy. That he hadn’t died for nothing.” She sniffed. “That he hadn’t murdered for nothing.”
He used his thumbs to rub away her tears. “You saw him kill the vampire?” Joe asked softly.
She nodded and blinked again. “He fell behind the couch in our living room—so I never saw his body.”
“If I’m your mortal enemy, why aren’t you afraid of me?”
“I was.”
“What changed your mind?”
His directness made her squirm. He deserved no less from her. “The fact you offered me an out when you pinned me to the wall. It was kinda obvious you were dying to have me. I mean, I didn’t know what you were right then, but after I saw you in the glass, I remembered. You didn’t bite me, you didn’t rape me. You gave me a choice.”
His eyes glinted dangerously.
She recognized that look now, and her body responded, her nipples constricting into hard, erect points. Lily nodded toward her French doors. “You covered the glass.”
“It’ll be daylight soon.”
“Oh.” Worried for him and yet morbidly curious, she asked, “Will you disintegrate in the sunlight?”
Knight in Transition Page 6