Dead Sexy (22 page)

"You don't look old," she remarked, snuggling against him. "But then, I guess you never will."

"No, I never will. "Neither would she, he thought, but this didn't seem like the right time to bring that up.

She sat quiescent in his arms for so long, he thought she had fallen asleep until she said, "You know a lot about werewolves. Tell me what to expect. Will it… will it hurt when I… ?"

"I am no expert. I cannot tell you if it will hurt. I have heard that it does. I have heard that it doesn't. I suspect it will be less painful if you do not fight it."

"And I'll have to change, whether I want to or not?"

"Yes."

"Will I still be me, inside?"

"That I do not know."

"Will I remember being a wolf?"

"Again, I do not know."

"You must have some idea!" she insisted.

"I have heard the change is painful the first time, but that it gets easier as time goes on. I do not know if you will remember being a wolf, or if you will remember what you do when you are in that form. Vasile is the only werewolf I know and we have never discussed his condition."

With a sigh, Regan settled back into his embrace, her trepidation growing with each passing moment.

"Maybe I'll write a book about werewolves," she muttered. "You know, something like
The Werewolves' Guide for Complete Idiots, Everything You Always Wanted to Know but Never Had a Werewolf to Ask
."

Santiago smiled at her, thinking it was a good sign that she could find humor, however grim, in her situation.

"Perhaps I will write a companion book about vampires," he remarked with a wry grin.

"I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here with me." Lifting her hand, she caressed his cheek. "You must be… what do you call it? Hungry? Thirsty?"

"Either," he said, stroking her cheek. "Both."

"Does it hurt terribly when you haven't fed for a long time?"

"Yes. It is a pain worse than anything you can imagine. Far worse than mortal hunger."

"Have you ever had to go without feeding for a long time?"

"Once."

"How come?"

"It happened when I was still a newly made vampire. A hunter found my resting place. He would most likely have destroyed me if he hadn't been a young hunter. He poured holy water over me and then put a stake to my heart. He pierced the skin of my chest and the muscle beneath but at the first sight of blood, he backed off. The pain roused me. When I sat up, he dropped everything and fled. The holy water weakened me and I fell back, the stake still buried in my flesh. It took all my strength to pull it free. I left the crypt as soon as I was able and sought a new resting place. My skin was badly burned from the holy water. It took several weeks for me to regain my strength."

"And that's the longest you've gone without?"

He nodded, his thoughts turned inward. He had been almost mad with hunger when he recovered enough to hunt. Even now, so many years later, he felt regret for the first mortal he had seen that night. He had taken the young man quickly, savagely, and cast the body aside, the only thing on his mind the need to ease the pain that engulfed him like a living flame.

But that had been long ago. He was older now, wiser, more in control of his passions and his needs. If it were not so, the girl lying so trustingly in his lap would have more to fear than the full moon. He stroked her hair lightly.

"Go to sleep now, my lovely one," he said. "You will need your strength for tomorrow."

"I don't think I can sleep." She paused, her head tilted to one side. "Listen. You were right. It's raining."

He nodded. "Why are you surprised?"

"I've never known anyone who could predict the rain. Maybe you should become a weatherman."

He snorted softly. "No." He rubbed his knuckles over her cheek. "Go to sleep now."

"Will you kiss me good night?"

Murmuring, "What do you think?" he lowered his head and claimed her lips with his.

The cave and its meager furnishings faded away. The morrow and its uncertainty ceased to exist. His hellish thirst was no longer uppermost in his mind. There was nothing in all the world but the woman in his arms, the touch of her skin, the scent of her hair, the fire in her kiss. His tongue swept her lips, seeking entrance. She opened to him at once, as eager and hungry as he. His body reacted immediately and predictably.

His hands delved into her hair, softly kneading her scalp as his tongue explored the soft inner recesses of her mouth. She tasted of the soup she had eaten earlier and the cocoa she'd had to drink. He rained kisses over her cheeks, her brow, her eyelids, the sweet curve of her throat. His tongue mated with hers again. The scent of her blood tantalized his nostrils, stirring his other desire. Her tongue brushed his fangs, just the slightest touch, but it was enough to draw blood.

He groaned with pleasure as her sweetness slid down his throat. For a moment, he forgot everything but the taste of her life's blood and the fact that he hadn't truly fed for several days. But this was Regan. He had sworn to protect her.

She made a soft sound of protest when he withdrew his lips from hers. "Don't stop."

"This is not a good time," he said, keeping a tight rein on the thirst burning through him. "You are far too tempting, and I am far too hungry, and not just for your sweet flesh."

She blinked up at him, one hand kneading the muscle in his arm. "But I want you."

"As I want you, but…" He paused, trying to find just the right words.

"But what?" She ran her tongue across his lower lip. "I want you. You want me. We're both over twenty-one."

"One of us is way over," he muttered.

"Joaquin, I need you."

He knew the attraction between them was real, just as he knew that her sudden urge to make love was influenced more by the pull of the moon than her own desire. Somehow, it didn't seem honorable to take her now.

"Regan." He held her gaze with his. "It is late and you are weary. Close your eyes. There is nothing to fear tonight. I am here with you. I will be with you tomorrow night. Sleep now."

She looked up at him, her gaze becoming unfocused as he gently bent her will to his. Her body slowly relaxed. Her eyelids fluttered down. In moments, she was asleep.

Santiago stroked her hair, his body humming with desire. It must be love, he thought with a wry grin, else he never would have refused such a welcome invitation.

Vasile stood in the shadows, his gaze fixed on the heavens. Tomorrow night the moon would be full and the Delaney woman would shift. He had originally intended to kill her, seeing it as the perfect revenge against the man who had stolen Marishka away from him. But in the very act of biting the Delaney woman, he had come up with a better use for her and so, instead of delivering the coup de grace, he had thrown her away from him, careful to make sure he didn't hurt her too badly. He would need her later, after the revolution.

The werewolves were tired of lurking in the shadows, hiding like sheep. They were meant to be predators, not prey. It was time to reclaim their rightful place in the scheme of things. Vasile had spent the last few years bringing the packs together, urging them to increase their numbers while foolishly neglecting to ensure that his own pack did the same. That was something he intended to rectify immediately. Then, when the time was right, he would be the one to lead them to victory, with Santiago's woman at his side.

Vasile had called on the pack in South Dakota and ordered them to kill the old shaman in the Black Hills. Foolish old man, offering a cure to those who were misguided enough to want one. In the past, Vasile hadn't cared. He wanted only the strongest of their kind at his side, but there could be no cure for Regan Delaney. No, he had plans for her. Every king needed a queen, and she would be his. And if Zina objected, well, he would worry about that when the time came.

He could have followed the Delaney woman into the Black Hills, killed the old medicine man himself, and brought her back, but there had been no need.

She would return to her home, and she would bring Santiago with her.

He would kill the meddling vampire when the time was right—and he would make the woman watch.

Though in human form, Vasile threw back his head and howled at the moon.