Chills & Thrills Paranormal Boxed Set (60 page)

His eyes took on a suspicious cast, but he dropped his arms.
"No tricks," he said warily, clearly prepared to stop her if she
bolted toward the canyon.

She glanced toward the drop-off, then smiled weakly,
steeling herself against the disgust she knew would arise on his face. Will it.
She only had to will it.

Alchemize.

Again the change came instantly. One moment she was
shivering in the freezing wind, the next moment she noticed it not at all.

She'd expected a startled cry, a quick jerk of revulsion.
Instead he uttered a soft, "How?" She heard no loathing in his voice.

"After you left, Sebastian forced me back into the
circle and completed the Song of Hades. That's what he was doing when you
arrived. He almost succeeded in transforming Shala too."

He flinched at that but said nothing.

"I thought the ritual was unsuccessful — you'd
interrupted it and—" She gave a short ironic laugh. "It was well,
untraditional. It shouldn't have worked, but it did. You see now why I can't
live."

She couldn't read his expression nor discern his thoughts,
and felt only an overwhelming sense of amazement from him.

"Aren't you going to say something?" she snapped.

"You look like no werewolf I've ever seen."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look at your hands, Lily."

She dropped her gaze and again saw the pale down covering her
hands. Only this time the hair seemed incandescent. She still didn't have
claws, though the ragged edges of the fingernails she'd torn on her climb were
now smooth and perfectly rounded. She lifted her hands to her face and touched
the flat even features of a human, not the short muzzle of a werewolf.

"I know it doesn't make sense." Then, almost in a
whisper, she added, "Over time, I'm sure it will get worse.”

"Do you know that?"

She shook her head.

"Do you feel an urge to dine on my bones, Lily?"

"What a stupid question," she replied sharply.
"I'm not hungry."

"If you were, how would you do it? Where is your
werewolf height? Your fangs, your claws?"

"I don't know! But I can't risk it!" She swung her
arms in agitation. Why the hell couldn't he understand? "You, Shala, Star
Dancer, you're all in danger. And I'm the only reason Sebastian brought his
pack to Ebony Canyon. When I'm gone, they'll leave! Can't you see—"

Tony turned abruptly toward the nearby trees. His expression
grew distant and unfocused, and he lifted his arms to the cloud-covered moon.
"And White Wolf Woman shall leave the deer and the wolf people, and come
to live among the Two Leggeds," he intoned in an altered voice.
"Although they shall first revile her for what she had once been and blame
her for the howling and gnashing of the beast of the forest, White Wolf Woman
shall hold high her head and remain. Her mastery of the hungering natures of
the meat-feeders, the plant-feeders, the feeders on both, will bestow her with
strength beyond any known to this world. She shall join with the bear and fend
off the monsters.

"Thus aided, the people shall gather their belongings
and under the dark moon rising pass into their true land."

A whirlwind suddenly enclosed them both, spiraling leaves,
twigs, and small rocks. But they stood untouched inside its calm eye. As
quickly as it arose, the tempest vanished, leaving Lily staring at the shaman
before her. Slowly White Hawk's eyes cleared and he looked at her.

"What was that about?" Lily asked, vaguely noticing
that her hands were trembling and sending out tiny sparks of light.

"An omen. I don't know its portent, only that you have
a place in it." He reached out and took her hands. "Return to human
shape and come back to the village with me. Come back, if you will."

Lily heard the plea in his voice, felt it draw her to obey.
Oh sweet heaven, she wanted to. This man who asked it of her was extraordinary
in every way. A loving child waited down below, and a giving people seemed
ready to accept her. Oh yes, she wanted to obey.

With one lingering look at White Hawk, she spun and leaped
toward the abyss. One jump took her to the canyon's edge, where she alchemized
to fragile mortal form and prepared to take the final plunge.

Then Tony was upon her, calling her name, cursing her,
holding her, pulling her back. She tried to fight him off and they tumbled.
Arms and legs entwined, they hit the earth with a force that knocked Lily's
breath away. His weight pressed her against the uneven ground. Rocks and twigs
poked her skin, but she ignored their bite and pounded on White Hawk's back,
demanding that he let her up.

Thunder clapped so loudly it drowned out her words.
Lightning flashed in dizzying strobes that nearly blinded her. But still she
fought. She twisted, drove an elbow into White Hawk's stomach. He grunted, then
captured both her wrists and forced her arms to the earth.

"You won't die, Lily. I won't let you."

The words, so reminiscent of those he spoke that night in
her bedroom, held an entirely different meaning this time, and gave her such a
jolt she stopped fighting. Still panting from exertion, Lily looked directly in
his face. There was a shimmer of unshed tears in his golden eyes, an emotion
she couldn't quite identify. She felt it in her heart. His nostrils flared
slightly, his mouth softened.

Slowly he lowered his head.

When his lips met hers Lily thought she truly might die from
the sheer bliss of it. An unexpressed sigh filled her heart. She felt a sweet
rush as White Hawk moaned against her mouth and parted her lips, returning his
kiss with a hunger she'd never known.

Tony had felt as parched as the canyon, and Lily's kiss was
like life-giving rain. He should be horrified at wanting her this way at this
horrendous time, but horror eluded him. He felt fulfilled, as though he'd been
designed by the Great Spirit only to kiss this woman, hold her in his arms. And
the passion with which she returned his kiss made his heart swell.

Their kiss was hidden from the world by a swirl of silver
hair, and he held her hands against the earth, arching his back ever so
slightly to gentle his claim on her mouth. He ran his tongue across her lower
lip, then inside her mouth, feeling the smooth moist surface, slipping slowly
between her teeth. She met his tongue passionately, made mewing sounds in her
throat. Her body began to tremble.

"Lily," he groaned, releasing her lips and rolling
to bring her on top of him. Her legs parted and slid on either side of him. She
swayed almost imperceptibly against the swelling beneath his pants.

Rocks pricked at his bare back, making his muscles quiver,
but he felt no pain. Every inch of his body was alive with need for her. The
thunder roared again. Their kiss broke, and his eyelids fluttered open. He saw
her above him, hair flying in the wind, dark almond-shaped eyes clouded with
desire.

"You shouldn't have stopped me," she said.
"Why did you do it, you who have wanted me dead for so long?"

He touched the hollow of her throat. Her pulse throbbed
visibly, rapidly. Such a tender spot, one he'd often dreamed of slicing with
his hunting knife. But now? Now?

"Duty," he replied, dropping his hand. He saw a
faint widening of her eyes, knew he had hurt her. "That night when I saved
you from Sebastian, I acted out of duty. But tonight?" He reached up and
took the lapels of her jacket and began slowly slipping it down her arms.
"I don't know, Lily. I couldn't bear to see you die. My heart's on fire
from wanting you. It’s torture not to touch you . . ."

Torture
. Yes, torture. He jerked the jacket down her
arms, revealing the clinging cotton camisole she wore. She took his hands and
brought them to cover her small, firm breasts. He held them for an instant like
precious jewels, then slowly rubbed his thumbs across the nipples. They
hardened for him, small aching nubs that begged for his caress.

Lily let out a muffled cry. Exquisite sensations raced
through her body, tingling up and down her spine, moving through her limbs to
her fingers and toes. White Hawk lifted his hands and she felt the bite of
freezing wind against her skin as he pushed up her camisole. She moaned in
protest, but when his mouth closed over her throbbing nipple her protest died
and she thought she might scream from ecstasy instead.

She arched her neck, and through her closed eyelids saw the
pure white field of flashing lightning. Thunder roared, shaking the earth
beneath her knees. Wind whipped her hair relentlessly against her chilled and
naked arms. But the rest of her was hot. Blazing hot. And wild like the storm.

Beneath her White Hawk trembled. She'd known what was in his
mind before, had felt his hate, his desire to slit her throat with that deadly
knife of his and take her life. But now he would take from her what she'd never
before been able to give. She loved him, this man who'd once prayed for her
death. Which felt like a little death itself, she realized, the pain of it
piercing her heart.

She shuddered again as his tongue moved toward the under
curve of her breast, and then he was kissing her belly, quickly, hungrily as
though he wanted to devour every inch of her body. Tightening her thighs
against his hips, she began to rotate her own. He was hard and full of wanting,
a wanting she needed him to spill into her.

If there was life after death, she'd remember this moment
forever, remember the unrelenting hardness of his muscled chest, remember the
poignant tenderness of his mouth . . .

For despite his belief that she wasn't a werewolf, Lily knew
she couldn't risk finding out she was. The zenith of the full moon was but
three nights away, bringing the werewolves' blood frenzy to its peak, and if
White Hawk was wrong, his people would suffer for his mistake.

But she would seize this night in White Hawk's arms. Tonight
was theirs. Tonight.

Tony had started to unbutton Lily's jeans when she exploded
above him. Like the beast she once had been, she clawed at his trousers,
bucking her hips, yanking them down. He kicked his feet, sending the pants
flying somewhere into the meadow, and she began tearing at her own clothes. The
camisole soared, the jeans were discarded, and she hovered over him, shoulders
heaving from the force of her need.

Her hands, her fingers were everywhere. Stroking and
massaging his taut biceps, exploring the rise of his chest, moving down the
rippled muscles of his abdomen, and finally closing over the center of his
need. He was hot and engorged—her hand was chilled from the wind—and his body
turned rigid from the electric pleasure her touch evoked. He let out a cry. She
whimpered in response, elevated her hips, and guided him into her.

Her movements were uncontrolled. She swayed and bucked,
crying out uninhibitedly, touching him here, touching him there. He brought her
mouth to his, taking it in a brutal kiss that matched her passion.

The cold wind gusted, blowing dry leaves and grass around
them, whipping her hair like a nine-tailed whip, and still he held her mouth.
She sheathed him fully, tightening around him. He swelled inside her, growing
larger, growing hotter, feeling her, wanting her, needing her . . . loving her.

She let out a throaty cry and shuddered from head to toe.
Tearing her mouth from his, she collapsed onto his chest, gasping and moaning.
A second later, Tony felt his own release approaching. He tried to hold back,
but she rotated her hips, tugging at him, holding him.

When his explosion came, he felt one with the thunder and
lightning, one with the raging wind, one with Lily.

She whimpered again, and Tony took the sound, merged it with
the waves of pleasure exquisitely tearing his body apart, and pulled Lily tight
against his heart, never to let her go.

White Hawk pulled Lily closer to his chest. "You're
cold. You need your clothing."

"No . . . yes." Lily settled against him for just
a little longer. The ground was hard, rock-filled and unforgiving, and the wind
felt like a freezer blast, but she didn't want to end this last moment between
them. Not yet.

White Hawk stirred and gently moved her to a sitting
position. Then he stood up, searching the rim for their clothes.

"Your trousers are over there." Lily pointed to a
pale mass atop the dying grass of the meadow.

As he went to retrieve them, she saw her chance. Her jacket
was at her feet. She put it on, then started for the rim where her jeans and
camisole had landed.

He wouldn't guess her intent, not yet. By the time he did,
it would be too late.

She picked up her jeans, then glanced at the meadow. White
Hawk was stepping into his trousers. As he began tying the drawstring at the
waist, Lily made her move.

Dropping the jeans, she sprinted toward the canyon, breath
catching, hesitation in her every footfall. But she must do it! Now! Before she
changed her mind.

Suddenly a bird screeched. She saw that hated flash of
white. Before she knew it, Tony again clutched her against his chest,
whispering questions, murmuring crazy reassurances.

She didn't fight. Instead she trembled, clung to him with
equal ferocity, knowing she'd hoped he'd do this all along. Tears filled her
eyes as she contemplated the result of her selfishness.

But she wanted to live! Especially now, with this strong and
steady man she'd dreamed of holding her in his arms and begging her not to do
it.

"You're one and the same, aren't you?" she asked,
when she regained her voice. "You and the hawk."

He nodded, and she wondered why she hadn't made the
connection earlier, but didn't really care. He was here now and she was still
alive.

She tried to pull away, but Tony tightened his hold on her.
"It's over, Lily. You'll have to find the courage to live."