Dead Sexy (24 page)

He didn't want to leave her alone but the sun was climbing high in the sky and the Dark Sleep was calling to him. He would have to rest sooner or later… and he would have to rest here. He had lingered too long, and the sun was too high for him to risk going outside.

He grunted softly, wondering what she would think when he told her he was going to have to spend the rest of the day in the back of the cave, then shrugged it off. She had shared a motel room with him; this was no different.

Regan muttered, "do whatever you have to," when Santiago told her he would be taking his rest in the back of the cavern. Truth be told, she was glad that he would be nearby. She didn't want to be alone and, even though he wouldn't be much company while he slept, it would still be nice to know he was there.

He drew her into his arms. "Will you be all right?"

She made a vague gesture with her hand. "Sure." What did she have to be afraid of now? Her worst nightmare had become reality.

He regarded her for a moment, then made his way to the back of the cavern.

Regan watched him until he was out of sight and then, leaving the cave, she sat down under a tree and let the tears fall.

Just when you thought life couldn't get any worse, it did.

For the first time in her life, she had fallen head over heels in love. Was he a doctor or a pilot or a lawyer? No, he was a vampire.

And now, if that wasn't bad enough, she was a werewolf.

The cosmic Fates must be rolling on the floor laughing their collective fannies off. She just wished she could find some humor in the situation. She had heard of life-altering experiences before, but this! She shook her head. How was she supposed to adjust to something like this?

She picked up a blade of grass and twirled it between her thumb and forefinger. She would never be able to have children now, and if she did, they probably wouldn't be children at all, but puppies. Maybe a whole litter of them!

A laugh bubbled up in her throat. She could tell Santiago she loved him now. She could even marry him. She wouldn't have to worry about getting pregnant, because vampires couldn't reproduce.

Life just kept getting funnier and funnier, she thought bitterly. Yes sir, her life must be the cosmic joke of the century.

She laughed and laughed, and then she buried her face in her hands and wept for what she had become, for all that she had lost…

She woke with a start. Not knowing what had roused her so abruptly, she sat up, a shiver of unease running down her spine. She wasn't alone. She knew it without knowing how she knew. It couldn't be Santiago. The sun was still in the sky. Afraid of what she might see, she glanced warily over her shoulder.

The spirit wolf stood a foot or so away, watching her.

Regan stared back. "Hello, Pahin Sapa. You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

The wolf barked, and then smiled a wolfish smile.

"Did you come to keep me company again?" she asked, scooting around so that she could see him better.

The wolf bobbed his head up and down.

"I'm glad," she said, wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. "I could use some company."

With a low whine, the wolf trotted forward and dropped down beside her, its hazel eyes focused on her face. Once again, she heard the wolfs voice in her mind.
There is another cure, though you must be brave to obtain it
.

"At this point, I'm willing to do anything."

You must find the werewolf who bit you and destroy him with your own hand. His death will free you.

Kill Vasile? How could she accomplish what Santiago, with all his supernatural powers, had been unable to achieve? "Is there no other way?"

Not now.

"Then I'll just have to find a way to do it."

It will be easiest when the moon is not full.

"Thank you, Pahin Sapa."

With a low
woof
, the wolf bounded to its feet and disappeared into the trees.

Regan stared after the wolf. Destroy Vasile. That's all she had to do. All, she thought with a shake of her head. She could hardly wait to tell Santiago, and then she frowned. Santiago had been hunting Vasile for hundreds of years. How would he feel when she told him she had to destroy the werewolf? Surely Santiago would understand. Regardless of who killed him, Vasile would be just as dead. After all, what was more important? That she destroy Vasile and get her life back, or that Santiago destroy the werewolf to avenge Marishka's death?

Returning to the cave, she paused inside the entrance, her eagerness to go home momentarily overcome by her curiosity. Santiago was asleep in the back of the cavern…

Moving quietly, she went deeper into the narrow passage, her blood pounding in her ears. What did he look like when he was trapped in the Dark Sleep? Did he look like he was dead, or merely sleeping? Would he be angry if she spied on him? Would he even know she was there?

She stopped at the place where the cavern veered to the left, her heart in her throat.
Just one look
, she thought.
What could it hurt
?

Holding her breath, she peered around the cave wall, her eyes straining to see through the gloom—but there was nothing to see, no sign of Santiago. Frowning, she entered the small chamber. Where was he?

Returning to the main chamber, she looked outside.

The sun was low in the sky. Wherever he had gone, he would be rising soon—and so would the moon. How had she forgotten that?

A shiver of unease ran through her at the thought of shifting again. She had purposefully refused to think of it earlier, but now she couldn't put it from her mind. She recalled all too clearly the fear and the pain as her body transformed.

Tonight, if she felt herself shifting, she would ask Santiago to leave the cave so she could undress before the transformation began. Of course, he'd already seen all there was to see.

With that thought in mind, she turned away from the cave's entrance and let out a shriek of surprise when she found herself face to face with the master of the city.

"Damn!" she exclaimed, "where did you come from?"

"Back there," he replied, gesturing behind him.

"But I looked just a few minutes ago…"

"I did not wish to be seen."

"Oh." She stared up at him, frowning. Did that mean he had been there and she just couldn't see him, or did it mean he had hidden somewhere, although she couldn't for the life of her think where he could have hidden. And then she remembered that he sometimes hid in the earth. But none of that mattered right now.

Santiago listened quietly as Regan told him about the shaman's appearance. He wondered why it hadn't occurred to him that destroying Vasile would break the curse of the werewolf. Of course, he had always thought it was just a myth similar to the one that said if you destroyed a vampire, all those he had brought across would die with him. But perhaps Pahin Sapa was right, and they had nothing to lose by trying, since destroying Vasile had long been Santiago's goal. The one drawback was that Regan had to kill the werewolf. He told himself it didn't matter who destroyed Vasile as long as it was done, but he knew he was lying to himself. He had waited centuries to kill the werewolf. How could he let another, even Regan, accomplish what he himself yearned to do?

"So, I think we should head back home right now," Regan said. She moved through the cave, gathering her things together and stuffing them into her pack. She frowned when he didn't say anything. "Don't you?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Some werewolves only change at the full moon, some also change the night before, as well, and some the night after. If you start to shift while we are riding down the mountain, it is likely to spook the horses, don't you think?"

"Very funny. I hate this! I don't want to change again. Do you think I'll change again?"

"We will know soon enough."

She began to pace back and forth. "Do you think we'll be able to find Vasile?"

"We will find him."

"What if he's left the country?"

"We will find him," Santiago repeated softly but emphatically. "Do not forget, he is also looking for me."

"I know but…"

"Regan," he murmured. "Worrying will solve nothing."

"But…"

Moving quickly, he put his arms around her and drew her close. "I am with you," he said quietly. "Trust me."

She gazed up at him, everything else forgotten as she looked into his eyes, deep blue eyes that glowed with an inner fire, a fire that flared even hotter as he lowered his head and kissed her.

As always, the touch of his mouth on hers drove everything else from her mind until she saw only him, wanted only him. Her arms slid up around his neck, her body leaning into his like a lost lamb seeking shelter. A small, clinical part of her mind marveled that they fit together so well and then even that was forgotten as his hands moved over her—hot, eager hands that caressed her with exquisite tenderness. She moaned softly, her body writhing against his, yearning for more. Hungry for more. Why did he affect her like this? Why didn't Michael's kisses make her blood sing and her bones melt? She had tried to love Michael. He was a kind, decent, hardworking man. She had known him for several years, but the most she had ever felt for him was affection. Then, Joaquin Santiago showed up and all her good sense went flying out the window.

She slid her hands under his shirt, her greedy fingers moving lightly over his broad back. His skin was smooth and cool to the touch. Intoxicating. She had a crazy urge to rip his shirt off, to drag him down onto the floor of the cave, to explore the hard muscled length of his body pressing down on hers, to feel his mouth, hot and hungry, on hers.

He whispered her name, his voice filled with the same urgent longing that possessed her. Would it be so wrong to let him make love to her? They could never have a life together, but they could have this one night, this one fleeting moment in time. She needed him to make love to her, needed to know that this gorgeous man found her desirable, that she was still a woman and not a monster…

"Joaquin…"

"I am here."

She looked up at him, hoping he would see the desperate need in her eyes, that he would take her in his arms and make her forget…

Too late, too late. Groaning, she clutched her stomach as pain knotted her insides.

"Regan?"

"It's happening again!"

Twisting out of his arms, she quickly removed her shoes and began to shed her clothing.

Santiago stood back, watching, thinking what a rare and fascinating sight it was to watch her shift, her slight body shimmering like mist in the moonlight as the wolf emerged.

Hearing her cry out, he wished he could endure the pain for her, but he could only stand there, watching, marveling at the incredible transformation, until the woman was gone and the blond wolf stood in her stead.

She didn't bolt out of the cave this time, but looked up at him expectantly, her head cocked to one side. Waiting.

He smiled at her, and then he shifted. There was no pain for him. He had but to wish it and he became a wolf. Though he had, on occasion, assumed other shapes, the wolf form had always been his favorite.

Side by side, they trotted out of the cave.

As he had the night before, Santiago fell in behind her, content to follow her lead.

She ran for miles, effortlessly leaping over fallen logs and branches, bounding across a shallow stream, chasing a deer she spooked from a thicket. He grinned inwardly as she howled her frustration when the buck eluded her.

A short time later, she caught a jackrabbit, and still later she brought down a young doe. He hoped the excitement of the chase and the two kills would satisfy her. It was a myth that all werewolves were ravening monsters, unable to control the beast within them. True, they had to shift when the moon was full, but before their numbers decreased, most werewolves had hidden out in unpopulated areas, living in small groups, content to prey on wildlife. It was only those that had tasted human flesh who turned into uncontrollable monsters. Having once tasted human flesh, they were no longer content with anything else. They lived for the thrill of hunt, the chase, and the kill. It was werewolves like Vasile that had caused them to be hunted to near extinction. Unlike vampires, who had needed human blood to survive until the synthetic kind had been invented, werewolves could survive without human prey.

Regan paused at a stream to drink, then playfully nipped Santiago on the shoulder. He retaliated by nipping her on the hindquarters and the game was on. Like puppies, they rolled on the ground, mock growls rising in their throats as they tussled. Gaining her feet, she attacked him again, knocking him into the water. With a joyful bark, she splashed in after him and they chased each other along the shore until a fish caught her eye. With a yelp of excitement, she plunged into the river, emerging moments later with a fat trout in her jaws. She dropped it on the ground, shook the water from her fur, and then, giving him a wolfish grin of triumph, she devoured the fish, bones and all.

After a time, she dropped down onto the grass and rolled onto her side. Santiago stretched out beside her, idly licking drops of water from her face. They rested there for a while, until she sprang to her feet. She waved her tail in his face and the game began once again, with her leading him on a merry chase that he was content to follow. The water was cool, the night warm as they splashed along the shore, leaping from rock to rock and jumping over boulders. She chased a bullfrog until it dove into deeper water and took shelter behind a rock. She spent several minutes trying to dig it out before she gave up.

Sensing dawn's approach a short time later, Santiago scrambled up the bank, his nostrils testing the breeze. She made as if to attack him yet again, but he growled a warning. The time for play was past. He needed to return to the cave before the sun came up. She looked at him askance a moment and then, when he glanced at the sky, she understood.

Shaking the water from her coat, she trotted toward the cave.

Santiago followed her, thinking that, woman or wolf, Regan Delaney was the most desirable creature he had ever known.