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  The white carpet was turning red with blood. The smell of burning flesh threatened to choke her. On the other side of the room, the alpha werewolf who had attacked her burned from the inside out. She stared in wonder, trying to remember what Nana had told her about the knife. The normally closed-mouthed old woman had spells where she talked a lot. Unfortunately, what she said then made little sense because she was out of her head. Kellie hadn’t known what to believe.

  While trying to connect the fairy stories Nana told her with hard facts, she’d had the little silver knife appraised, they’d told her it was very old and considered a valuable artifact that should be in a museum with the sword of Arielle. Kellie pushed her brain. Had Nana warned her about the knife’s potency? Things she shouldn’t do? The memory wouldn’t come.

  Guns fired outside the house. It could only be the SWAT team they sent out when the roving bands of wild werewolves attacked the humans. It was about time they showed up. Kellie took stock of herself. The werewolf’s claws had scored deep onto the flesh of her arms and torso. The bones in her arm and wrist were crushed, and she’d injured her back in the fall. She’d lost a lot of blood. Would she live to be rescued?

  A menacing slate gray wolf with pale irises came so close that she felt his hot breath on her face. “Later, bitch. You’ll be one of us or we’ll be back to finish this.”

  No. It wouldn’t happen to her. She wouldn’t let it. Kellie lay there struggling to move.

  In silent agreement, the wolves leapt out of the windows and doors in mass. A hail of gunfire greeted them, but Kellie knew better than to think they’d all been exterminated.

  She felt weird. Almost like she was floating on an undulating bed of molasses. A rushing sound made her ears all but useless and her stomach oscillated between bouts of hard tension and bouts of threatening to toss its contents. Blood soaked the carpet beneath her. Dark spots invaded her eyesight and spread. Her vision darkened until she lay unconscious.

  Kellie came to on a stretcher. A group of emergency technicians were putting her into a red ambulance. Her vision was blurred, and she shivered with cold despite the thermal blanket covering her. She’d missed the arrival of the ambulance’s lights and sirens. A full moon shone down on them as the rest of the stretcher went in and locked in place. How long had she been out?

  In the background, a cleanup crew was gathering the bodies of the dead wolves that had returned to human form and loading them into the back of a coroner’s wagon. There was an IV in her arm. They were giving her blood and liquid sustenance.

  A pudgy-looking emergency technician in red and white leaned in close to her face, a smile lighting his roughly pleasant face. “Glad to have you with us. You okay, little lady?”

  “Dizzy, weak,” she mumbled. She was definitely too weak to give him hell about calling her “little lady.”

  “You’ve got an IV, and we cleaned and bandaged your cuts, but the doctor’s gonna want to look at that arm. He’ll probably have to operate.”

  She wondered, who was he kidding? The arm throbbed and was twice its normal size. They must have given her something for the pain. She was probably going to lose the arm. Kellie’s eyes grew shiny with tears. “Lucky to be alive.”

  “I’ll say.” The tech leaned closer. “It looks like you put up a hell of a fight. The SWAT team found four of ’em dead inside your place, and I hear that two limped out and got finished off by the team.”

  “How many humans died?” she asked, trying to put things in perspective.

  “Eleven.” The tech chose that moment to look away and check the monitors. “Of the homes that were attacked, you were the only survivor.”

  “How many wolves got away?” she bit out hoarsely, knowing that many more were out there, waiting to terrorize the humans still brave enough to live in the area.

  Not bothering to comment further, the tech gave a signal, and the ambulance doors swung shut. Soon they were careening down the road at top speed with the siren wailing overhead.

  Kellie closed her eyes. A ride like this had been a childhood dream, but being here on the stretcher meant she would never be the same again. Did they think she was going to die? In the darkness behind her lids, she saw her Nana watching her with a concerned expression on her face. It was strange, because the old woman had been very stern. Kellie rarely saw a look of concern when Nana had been alive.

  At the emergency room, the doctor’s decision to operate was immediate. “We’ll put some pins in it, but we can’t promise anything as far as what you’ll be able to do with it,” he explained. “The nerves in that arm will never be the same.” He glanced at the screen with her vital signs, and then stared at her. “You’ve got a fever, which is to be expected with an injury such as yours, but it is extremely high. You have had your shots for the lycanthrope virus?”

  Kellie shook her head. “Nana wouldn’t allow it. She said it would kill me. I didn’t survive the attack just so I could die from a vaccination.”

  “It’s the law!” he snapped, ordering the nurse to fetch the required dosage for vaccination. “Unless you’re a vampire, already a werewolf, or have applied to the council for membership in one of the werewolf clans, you must be vaccinated. Do you want to be a werewolf?”

  Kellie gripped the sheets with her fists. “No. Hell no.”

  Becoming one of those thieving, murdering werewolves that roamed the countryside terrorizing the human population was not an option.

  As if he could read her thoughts, the doctor’s expression softened. “The wolves that attacked you are not representative of the clans who are a part of this city, its government, and businesses. My concern is following the laws of this city and making sure that what happens here, medically speaking, is in your best interests.”

  Nothing he said soothed her uneasiness. Her best interests involved never coming into contact with the bastards. Nana had been adamant about the vaccination, even before she’d started losing her senses. “No vaccination,” she told him.

  When the nurse returned with the shot, the doctor swabbed Kellie’s arm with alcohol. His green eyes bored into her. “Did your grandmother tell you why she was so adamant about you not getting this shot?”

  “My blood chemistry is different. The vaccination would cause a negative reaction that could kill me,” she said finally. The doctor eyed her skeptically. “Are you trying to say you’re not human?”

  Kellie met his gaze. “Yes, I am.”

  The doctor laughed. “Well that’s an interesting tale. I had blood work done on you, and our techs have tagged you as human. There are some unusual elements that could not be identified, but you’re as human as I am!”

  Kellie shrunk away, dazed and confused. She’d avoided doctors for most of her life because of what Nana had said about her blood. To hear that she’d been living a lie was more than she could comprehend. The doctor had to be wrong.

  Still talking, the doctor grabbed her arm. Kellie tried to fight him off. Two nursing assistants held her down.

  “As you know, we have the legal authority to force you to take this vaccination. This shot has worked successfully for thousands. It won’t kill anything but the lycanthrope virus,” he insisted. Pulling the plunger back on the needle, he pushed the liquid into Kellie’s arm.

  The nursing assistants released Kellie.

  Acid fire rampaged through her veins and ate its way up to her throat. She curled inward, not certain how much more she could take. Something was happening, something unforeseen by everyone except Nana. Joints locked as massive convulsions shook her body with the force of an earthquake. Her lips moved. She tried to talk, but the only sounds that came out were pain filled grunts and screams.

  In the background, the doctor thrust a flat stick deep into Kellie’s mouth and ordered twenty ccs of Melizone.

  The serum or her body’s reaction to it? She didn’t know. Whatever it was ravaged through her, raising her blood pressure until her veins jumped with it and her head threatened to split.
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  The two nursing assistants held her still while the doctor administered the shot of Melizone.

  It slowly eased the fire inside her. Kellie actually felt the serum moving through her system. Her stomach clenched. Dry heaves caught her throat. In a violent burst, her stomach tossed its contents. The nurses worked with her, talking softly, wiping her face, and cleaning her up. When her head hit the pillow, she sank into the darkness.

  Chapter Two

  The relentless sound of nurses paging doctors on the PA system in the hall outside Kellie’s hospital room was the first thing to penetrate the quiet darkness. Then it was the tapping sound of footsteps in the hall and murmured snatches of conversation between nurses, patients, and visitors. She felt the spongy hospital mattress beneath her and the crisp cotton hospital gown and sheets against her skin. At scheduled intervals, the nurse came in to see if she was awake or to change the IV. The normality of the sounds and actions lulled Kellie into a peaceful sleep.

  Something rustled close to her bed. The sound was barely audible. She tensed, suddenly sensing a waiting presence. Someone was in her room. She breathed in the fresh, clean scent of a man’s cologne and another, indefinable scent with a powerful draw.

  The sensual sound of a man’s voice skated along the edge her senses, as intimate as a touch. “You’re awake now, Kellie. Will you open your eyes and talk to me?”

  Accepting the challenge, she opened her eyes, blinking against the sudden influx of light. A man sat in the chair by her bed as if he were holding court. Soft ebony waves topped a dream of a face in milk chocolate butter. Deep-set bedroom eyes the color of heated cognac, a sculpted nose, and full, well-shaped lips on a wide mouth filled with white teeth all combined to make him the best looking man she’d ever seen. From what she could see of his custom suit-covered body, it was all she’d ever wanted too, with wide shoulders, trim waist, and strong, lean muscled thighs. She could spend hours just looking at Mister Oh-so-fine.

  “How long have you been in here?” she asked, one hand instinctively rising to the knotted mess of her hair, and the other drawing the sheets she’d kicked off back over her legs. Lord, she knew she had to look like death warmed over, but she felt good. Looking at him made her feel even better. Something about him affected her as powerfully as the proverbial siren’s song.

  Distinct interest and amusement glittered in his eyes as he answered her question. “Long enough.”

  Whatever that meant, she hadn’t heard him come in or even known he was in the room until he’d wanted her to. Abruptly, she realized that she’d asked the wrong question. “What do you want?”

  The glitter in his eyes became more pronounced as his lazy gaze covered and lingered on her. The corners of his mouth threatened to turn upwards. “Many things, but for now I need to talk to you about the attack. My name is Garen Roy, and I’m working with the Preternatural Police.”

  Kellie’s lids slid downward. She wasn’t sure she wanted to deal with anyone from that shadowy organization, especially one as powerful as Garen Roy. For several precious moments, he’d taken her mind completely off herself and the werewolf attack. The man had to be giving off some heavy pheromones to make her forget about that. Kellie reached up to touch her right arm. It was no longer covered with bandages. She examined the soft caramel colored skin. There were no bruises or signs of surgery or the attack. “How long have I been out?”

  “A couple of weeks. Your case is unusual.”

  “For sure.” First the attack, then the damned doctors had nearly killed her with that vaccine. She examined her arm again, flexing her fingers, silently rejoicing in the fact that she hadn’t lost use of either. The specter of being handicapped had been heavy on her mind when she arrived. “It doesn’t even look like they operated on it,” she remarked.

  “They didn’t.”

  His words stopped her cold. With a quick intake of breath, she hugged herself beneath the covers. Her fingers stroked the smooth warm skin on the healed wrist and arm. What did it mean, her healing like that, without any surgery? She’d never been able to do that before. Did it mean she was a werewolf? Or would she become one with the next full moon?

  “Although you were violently ill, Dr. Keller isn’t sure the vaccination worked,” Garen said, apparently sensing her thoughts. “You’re the wild card, Kellie, because there are… elements in your blood that he’s never seen before.”

  Those words echoed in her ears and slammed around inside her head. She sat up, suddenly, letting the covers pool at her waist as she rejected all thoughts of the scientific arm of the preternatural police working with her doctor to try to make her into a science experiment. She had to get out of here.

  The room tilted, and her world shifted abruptly. She fell back against the pillows, closing her eyes against an attack of vertigo. Her breath came out on a hiss.

  “No sudden moves,” he ordered, suddenly standing by the bed. “You’ve been out on your back for two weeks. First the attack, and then who knows what effects that serum had on your body.”

  She didn’t have an answer, and there was no one who could tell her. Nana had died a few days ago, and Kellie had never seen or heard of any other relatives. The old woman she’d called Nana had raised her alone, insisting that Kellie’s parents had died in an accident. Other than that, she’d been incredibly stingy with information until close to the end of her life.

  The unique scent of Garen and his cologne filled her nostrils. Her heart sped up. Behind her closed lids, she heard him pouring water. There’d been a pitcher on the tray by the bed.

  Garen’s hand touched hers, hot and filled with the energy of life and something that made her want to grab onto it and press it to the aching tips of her breasts. She was no virgin, but neither was she a slut. She didn’t jump into bed with every man who made her hot, but Garen Roy made her want to break that rule.

  Something in his eyes told her that beneath his calm exterior she was wreaking havoc with his senses and his ability to maintain his professionalism. It said that what had started and was growing between them wasn’t fleeting or casual.

  He pressed the cool glass of water into her hands. “Drink this,” he ordered. “They took the IV out this morning. You must be thirsty.”

  She lifted her lids, and their gazes met and locked. Warmth heated and sizzled within her, melting her insides and pooling slick moisture between her legs.

  Kellie blinked. She’d never reacted to anyone like this.

  His eyes glittered. The rings around those heated cognac colored eyes seemed to glow.

  “We’re attracted to each other,” his voice deepened. He inhaled, nostrils flaring. “Your scent is an invitation I can’t ignore.” The pitch of his voice dipped so low it came close to a growl. “Do you know what I am? Can you accept it?”

  Kellie eyed him, examining him with all her senses. He was no ordinary man. His potent personal magnetism was something she’d previously only read about. The breathless answer bubbled up from her gut. “Werewolf.”

  “Not one of the rogue gang of werewolves doing home invasions, savaging humans, and robbing banks, but a werewolf just the same.”

  Nodding, Kellie ran her tongue across her dry lips. She wasn’t afraid of him, and she knew that there was bound to be a criminal element in the werewolf population, just like the human one.

  Something in Garen’s eyes deepened. He seemed to be waiting.

  She put the glass to her mouth and forced herself to drink the water. It cooled her dry throat, leaving the rest of her hot and wanting Garen Roy. She drained the glass.

  “Kellie, you and the mystery of your ancestry are intriguing,” he murmured. Steadying her hand on the glass with caressing forefingers, he refilled her glass with water.

  From what she knew of werewolves, he was surprisingly gentle with her. Kellie felt a resulting vibration low in her belly. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. Enough. She had no intentions of letting Garen Roy jump her bones right here in the hospital, probab
ly not at all. Collecting her wits, she shot him a look of frustration. “Garen, stop. I’m not myself.”

  He momentarily froze. “True. At this moment, neither am I. I look forward to an interesting encounter once you’ve recovered.” With an apologetic smile, he placed the pitcher on the stand and stepped backward to drop down into the chair beside her bed. “In addition to being with the Preternatural Police, I belong to the Roy clan, Kellie, and I am related by blood to several others. We are known in this community for our businesses and our work in the community. You will need our protection, and we can provide you with a safe place to stay—”

  His offer was more than generous, but after all that had happened, she didn’t think she wanted to be taken in by a clan of werewolves, no matter how upstanding. Her attraction to Garen was unsettling enough. She knew of no attacks in the tourist areas of Vegas she reasoned inwardly. Maybe if she stayed there and was careful until her business for Nana was done, she’d be all right. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I can manage,” she answered.

  “Can you? I admire your strength and determination, but you’re a lone woman, and the only survivor out of all the attacks that have occurred within the past months. You don’t think they’ll come back for you?”

  “That would depend on the reason they attacked, wouldn’t it? I think you’re forgetting that I killed a bunch of them,” she reminded him.

  “True.” He paused. “The other victims were torn limb to limb, but the alpha merely savaged your arm. Why did they let you live?”

  She shook her head, unconsciously rubbing her arm. “I don’t know.” Having her arm chewed was not something she wanted to relive, no matter how Garen Roy sought to minimize it. I was viciously thrown into a wall, too. But what was that when the others had likely died within seconds of their encounters with the band of werewolves?

 

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