Howls sounded to her right and she veered toward them. She saw images in her mind, images sent by her cousins, their way of communicating. A herd of deer standing in a copse of trees, their ears pricking forward, listening. Feelings of quietness, the hush of paws on grass, the excitement of the impending kill crept through her veins.
Telepathy rocked.
Vonda found her cousins watching the deer, biding their time. She trotted to the back of the hunting party and lowered her tail and ears. The wolves nearest to her sniffed her in a proper how-do-you-do. She felt their uncertainty, but they didn’t chase her off and more images of wolves killing deer slashed through her mind.
And then they were running, the deer sprinting away, wolves pounding after them.
Vonda stayed in the back, helping chase, but not taking down a deer. She wouldn’t eat first either, that treat belonged to the alpha pair.
Trees flashed by her as she sprinted after the deer, low foliage slapping her face. The smells of the forest excited her, the word “home” a constant thought. Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs, she really needed to hit the track in human form.
Three feet from the deer, she smelled them on the evening breeze. A scent that left her salivating. Cattle. Directly to her left.
She veered. To hell with the deer. Why have venison when she could dine on steak tartare?
Even as a human she liked her meat raw. And what better to eat than steak, straight off the steer?
Vonda thought the image of cattle and sent it to the nearest wolf who stumbled in his flight after his dinner. Emotions crashed over her, fear, fright, followed by thoughts of humans. Bad, scary, she should stay where it’s safe, where humans with explosive sticks couldn’t hurt her.
She almost stopped, but why should she be scared of the humans? She was half human after all. And there was steak, did she mention that? Raw, fresh. Much better tasting than deer.
Adios cousins, she was on a new chase.
Her legs picked up speed, churning dirt and leaves as she raced across the ground. A barbed wire fence stopped her progress. The cattle lowed on the other side.
Close. So close. She could dine on steak tartare tonight. Her stomach growled.
Vonda eyed the fence. Two rows of barbed wire were strung between wooden posts. It didn’t look like an electrical fence. The fence was meant to keep animals in, not out. And as a werewolf she had her own way of getting through the fence that her canine brethren found impossible to do.
She ducked her head between the two wires, following with her left front leg, then left rear leg. The right side followed and she was through. The cattle looked her way. She snarled and leapt.
Cattle scattered as the wolf attacked. Not as fast as deer, they still ran for their lives. Vonda picked out one at the back of the pack and jumped at its throat, taking it down. The cow screamed, the sound ending in a gurgle as its throat tore open, blood streaming. She shook her head, spraying blood across the grass.
She waited until the blood slowed to a trickle, the spirit of the cow flying free. Once it was dead, Vonda sank her teeth into its hide. Dinner, ah.
Steak tartare never tasted so good. Her monthly treat since she arrived in town three months ago. Last thing needed was for wolves to be blamed for monthly cattle killing, which is why she tried to hit a different ranch each month. Problem was she hadn’t learned the boundary lines of each rancher or who all the ranchers were. Tom was the only one she’d met and he managed to turn her on even when she was in wolf form.
From the darkness came barking, riding the wind as it blew across the ground. She raised her blood-soaked muzzle and inhaled the wind. A dog was closing in, running full force toward her. Shouldn’t be a problem, dogs lacked the strength of wolves.
You can’t be seriously considering killing a dog, Vonda. Get real! Her human mind overrode the wolf’s instincts and she turned and faced the oncoming dog.
Vonda snarled at it, baring teeth, letting it know the cow belonged to her. A brown and white dog pulled up short, its tail initially dropping, then curling as it snarled back.
Tom wasn’t kidding around when he said Sam presented a problem. The damn dog was willing to go up against a wolf, and a werewolf at that. Not the smartest animal around, but Vonda had to give him points for bravery. Or maybe it was pure stupidity.
What was he doing over here? Shouldn’t he be on Tom’s property? She sent the dog an image of her talking to Tom, petting Sam, telling him to sit.
Sam cocked his head as his growls stopped. Vonda pushed the images harder, her petting his head as he sat. Sitting was good, he wanted to sit, he didn’t want to attack. Attacking bad, sitting good.
Sam sat.
She pictured the house and sent it to Sam. Unfortunately, the house reminded her of Tom, and her blood ran hot, her sex swelling. Sam whined and stood.
Eww, yuck. He wouldn’t dare. She ventured a glance under the dog’s hindquarters. Whew. Neutered.
She snarled again, trying the house pictures once more. Sam sat; the tip of his tail wagging and Vonda saw Tom sitting at a table with a girl of around ten, the scent of fear rolling off him. Vonda closed her eyes, shaking her head. A dog sent her pictures?
She’d never had that happen before. But why shouldn’t it, dogs were distant cousins and all canines possessed the ability for telepathy. Which was why dog training came so naturally to her. She pictured what the dog should do until the animal understood which sound went with the picture. However, no dog had sent any image other than chasing critters back to her.
Maybe she could only communicate with them while in wolf form. If being a werewolf only came with a how-to manual, things would be a lot easier.
Tom’s fear, as seen through Sam’s eyes, strode through her brain, triggering a like response in her. Sam’s ward was in trouble, she had to help. Wait a minute; Tom didn’t belong to Sam, which was the whole root of the trouble in that relationship.
Vonda shook her head. It didn’t matter at the moment who was in charge, Tom or Sam, all that mattered was that Tom was in trouble, something was wrong. Vonda probed into Sam’s memories, seeing nothing to cause fear in Tom. His daughter was smiling, but something was wrong.
What? Sam had ducked out the dog door, smelling her scent even across the distance. He hadn’t wanted her kill, he’d wanted her.
And now she had to help him.
Sam barked once, signaling he understood her decision to help him and took off across the darkened pasture, heading toward the house, Vonda following.
****
“Hey Dad, look what I did in art class.” Elizabeth held up a canvas with a picture of the mountains.
“You painted that?”
She nodded. “Yep. Whatcha think?”
“Wow, girl. You’re quite the little artist.” Tom smiled, impressed with her picture. Who knew his daughter drew like that?
“Daaadddyyy.” She slapped a hand down on the kitchen table. “I’m NOT a little girl. I’m almost grown.”
Problem was she spoke the truth. Amazing how time flew. He’d swear yesterday he first held her in his arms, her tiny fists balled, her face red and grimacing. She sat at the table, her features identical to his, her hair, though, the dark brown of Anita’s, a girl on the cusp of adolescence. What would he do with a teenage girl? Weren’t there things only a woman could tell her?
He really needed to start dating. If not for himself then for his daughter. She needed a mom. A mom like Vonda.
Visions of tanned legs wrapped around his waist while he drove into her, again and again, harder, faster, rushed through his brain. What was it about that woman that got him hard while he cooked dinner? There was nothing sexy about raw meat.
Tom flipped the burger on his indoor grill and continued his conversation with Elizabeth.
“Yep, you’re growing up. Pretty soon you’ll be able to cook for me while I sit and watch you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Daddy. I can’t cook.”
To
m laughed. Elizabeth always said that. She looked so peaceful sitting at the table, doing her homework. Nothing at all like his vision, where a huge man held her, her face dripping blood from a cut on her head, her eyes wide, as she struggled in the man’s grip.
Just thinking of what he saw gave Tom chills.
“Daddy, it’s burning!”
So it was. Tom flipped the burger, shooting Elizabeth an apologetic smile. “A little charcoal never hurt anyone, honey.”
“Whatever.” She waved a hand, returning to her books.
Would he be able to keep her safe? Where was he in that vision? That man he saw was huge, like a steroid-crazed wrestler, and Tom was no lightweight.
Why...how? Tom’s visions always came true. Or at least they had when he was a child; he hadn’t tried to see anything since he saw his mother’s death a day before she died. Now he needed to learn how to stop that man from getting Elizabeth.
The man had been in the house, he realized with a start as he flipped the burger onto a plate. He put a raw meat patty on the grill. How did that man get into his house?
The scariest thing was, what had happened to him? Was he dead? Why wasn’t he helping Elizabeth? Once caught, that man would be dead, that much he knew for sure. Murdering the son of a bitch sounded like a good idea.
“Hey, Daddy,” Elizabeth’s voice dropped him into the here and now. “It’s a full moon. You think another steer is going to die?”
“I don’t know, hon.”
Unknowingly, she managed to derail his morbid thoughts onto another little problem his ranch had. As if vandals breaking fences to get to his daughter wasn’t enough bad luck, for the past three months something, probably a wolf, had been gnawing on his herd. Each full moon brought another dead steer. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was a werewolf, but those only existed in folklore. They couldn’t really exist.
If he stuck like barbed wire to the herd for the next three nights, he might catch the wolf, but what was the loss of another steer when compared to his daughter? Nope, he’d stay home where he could watch her. Maybe next month he’d catch the wolf, if the thing gnawed its way through another cow tonight.
“Daddy, where’d Sam go?” Elizabeth looked at him, her amber eyes reflecting the light. His mother’s eyes. Although the color was oddly like Vonda’s.
Damn. He had to think of her again. The fantasy started playing, an endless loop in his mind. Double damn. Elizabeth had asked him a question, he should be thinking with the head on his shoulders. What the fuck was wrong with him tonight?
“I’m not sure, honey. Why don’t you clear off the table and set it? I’m almost done over here.”
Dinner, Tom. Think of dinner not Vonda. Dinner. What about strawberries used to paint chocolate down her firm flesh, leading to...
He flipped the overcooked burger onto the plate, turned off the grill and slammed the spatula onto the cabinet. Elizabeth squeaked.
“Sorry, honey. It slipped.” Slipped in and out of hot, wet, warm flesh. In and out, over and over...
“You okay, Daddy?”
“Um, yeah. I have to go pee. I’ll be right back.”
Hoping Elizabeth didn’t see the bulge in his pants, he walked to the bathroom and slumped against the door. Taking himself in hand, he grasped the length of his dick and stroked. Once, twice and he came over his hand, teeth gritting against the pleasure. Well, whatcha know, the damn thing still worked.
Grabbing a tissue, he cleaned up the mess. He really needed to get control of himself. He couldn’t just run to the bathroom every five minutes like a horny teenager. Elizabeth would know something was wrong and this was one conversation he didn’t feel like having.
Yeah, honey, Daddy has the hots for the dog trainer, which causes him to have to jack off every so often, but it’s good to know the ole dick still works. Uh-huh. Right.
He finished washing his hands and was reaching for the towel when the lights went out. What the hell? No storm or high winds were in the area. Maybe the fuse shorted for the bathroom. He’d have to go check.
Layla growled. Tom’s heart rate jacked up a notch. He’d owned the dog fourteen years and never once had she growled. Barked, yes, growled, never. Until now.
The doorknob slipped in his wet grasp. He used a corner of his shirt to twist the knob, managing to barely turn it when he heard Elizabeth scream. The scream died as flesh met flesh and a crash sounded. Oh, God, no. His nightmare had just begun.
Tom yanked the door open, rushing into the scene from his vision. The room was dark, dappled in moonlight filtering through the blinds, unlike his vision where the room seemed lighter.
He blinked, rage consuming him. When he opened his eyes, the room seemed brighter and he smelled blood and the sharp tang of terror. A chair lay on the floor, papers scattered everywhere. A huge man with a shaved head and more tats than a prisoner held Elizabeth, one hand clamped over her mouth, one muscle-bulging arm wrapped around her waist. Her feet pummeled his shins, but the blows meant nothing to the man.
Tom felt his lips peel over his teeth as a red film settled across his eyes. That son of a bitch hurt his daughter. He heard an inhuman howl echo through the kitchen and the skinhead’s eyebrows skimmed skyward. For a minute Tom wondered how Layla could make a noise like that, and then he realized it didn’t come from the dog, it came from him.
Odd, but then no one had ever tried to kidnap his little girl before.
His limbs tingled as if he’d stuck his finger in an electrical outlet, energy pulsing through them. His muscles felt like they were growing, lengthening, becoming stronger. His teeth, especially the incisors, ached. His throat quivered as that inhuman howl broke out again. Elizabeth’s eyes widened.
He focused on her, noting how her eyes glanced behind him as she struggled to speak, her words muffled incoherently. A rush of air to his right caused him to turn, but he was too late. A heavy weight struck his head and he crumpled.
He heard Elizabeth’s muffled yells as he struggled against the darkness in his head. The front door banged shut and Tom knew he’d failed her. Darkness consumed him.
Chapter 3
Vonda saw the house from a distance. Uh-oh. It looked as if she’d been eating cattle from her newest client. That couldn’t be a good thing. Maybe Tom hadn’t noticed. It could happen.
Sam trotted along beside her, glancing at her occasionally from the corner of his eye. She hadn’t gathered anything else from his canine brain in their journey to the house. Just like a male to be the silent type.
In the distance she saw the house, shining like a lighthouse to a weary traveler. Her steps slowed. She was in wolf form and would be until morning. What would Tom do when he saw her? Shoot her? What was she thinking to trail after Sam like this?
Sam looked at her and Vonda felt his mind touch hers.
Hurry. Fear. Help.
Sam had a point. Even from this distance something seemed off. A discord in the harmony of nature. What the hell. If Tom needed her help she was all for it. Maybe afterward he’d repay her with sex. Yeah. That sounded like a great idea. He might be a bit freaked out when she changed, but he’d know she helped him and he’d throw her on the bed, thrusting inside her, and…
The lights shut off at the house, effectively throwing her out of her fantasy. Vonda stopped, startled by the sudden loss of light. Sam’s ears cocked forward as he sniffed the air. Vonda dragged a deep sniff in too, smelling the scents of evening along with a new scent.
Her nostrils flared. What was that? The smell triggered a response in the wolf’s brain that resonated in her body. Despite the fact she had never smelled that scent before, she knew what it was. It smelled like her. A mixture of magic and evergreen.
Werewolves.
What were werewolves doing here? Who cared about that, would they want to meet her? Where were they?
She scanned the perimeter of the house, looking for wolves, but all she saw were two men, one of them carrying what looked like a bundle of
blankets in his arm. The bundle jerked and even from where she sat Vonda could see the man’s muscles bulge as he tightened his grip on his load. Sam growled.
Elizabeth.
Vonda looked at Sam and back at the men as they walked toward a car parked along the main road. She breathed in, thankful the wind carried the men’s scents to her and not hers to them. Sure enough, three different scents slammed into her nose, two werewolves and one scared girl. She should have picked up on that earlier.
Sam darted through the grass, heading toward the men, Vonda following. This was worse than she thought. She hadn’t imagined this when Sam came to her, telling of Tom’s fear.
These men were like her, she knew it, she smelled them. So why were they in human form? How could a werewolf stay in human form when the moon shone full and bright?
She’d have to ask, after she knocked their asses down for stealing a little girl. What kind of perverts were they? Taking a kid like that. Where was Tom?
Vonda didn’t care to think where he might be, or the condition he was in. She’d find Tom after she stopped these bastards.
Legs churning, she overtook Sam, passing him as if he were a turtle on a sunny day. If she didn’t get a move on those perverts would have that girl in their car. Good thing she ran faster than the average wolf, although that steer in her stomach slowed her down.
The giant man carrying Tom’s daughter laid her, blankets and all, in the backseat, and wrapped the seatbelt around her, while the other one got behind the wheel. Trying not to puke—not even a wolf should exercise after eating—Vonda sprinted toward the giant.
The car’s engine turned over, headlights splashing over the ground, blinding her. She veered out of the bright path, noting the giant stood watching her, one hand on the car door.
Vonda leapt, aiming for his throat. He took a step toward her, catching her around the neck and throwing her to the side. Vonda landed with a thud, the air knocked out of her. The vibration of his steps ran across her skin as he walked toward her but it was a little hard to move when she couldn’t breathe.
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