A sob came from Kara, but she didn’t say another word until they were finished discussing plans and ways they might be able to locate the other werewolves who’d disappeared. Once Vincent left though, Kara lost her control and raged at him. “Why?”

  “You know why, Kara. Don’t you understand what I go through every single day? Remembering all of the things I’ve done? I haven’t slept without having nightmares for almost two hundred years.”

  “Justin, please, don’t do this. I-I love you,” Kara said, dropping her gaze to her entwined hands.

  Justin looked at her with sadness. He cared for her so much, but as a sister, nothing more. “I’m sorry, Kara. I… don’t feel the same way. You’re like my sister.”

  “I don’t want to be your sister! I want to be with you.” Kara threw herself into his arms in desperation and kissed him.

  He had no idea what to do except not respond to her passion. She pulled away and looked at him, pain and grief glittering in her eyes. Unable to stand it, he turned his head. “Even if I could feel that kind of love for you, Kara, I’m not free to do so. Don’t you understand? If anything happened while we were… together, I could infect you. And I would never be able to forgive myself!”

  He stood, forcing her to step back. “I’m going out for a while. I’ll be back later.”

  The sound of Kara sobbing as he tore out of the house broke his heart, and he knew his decision for Vincent to kill him was the best for everyone. Kara would be able to move on, and he wouldn’t be a danger to her anymore. He mounted his bike, started the engine, and shot off down the street.

  Rain started to fall as Justin drove aimlessly around the city. His hair and clothing were plastered to his skin in moments. The smell of the rain drifted into his nose and triggered a memory of when he’d been a child. He’d been maybe ten years old. His mother and sister were sitting on the front porch, shelling peas, while he helped his father round up the chickens from the yard to bed down for the night. Storm clouds started rolling in, and they were chasing down the last chicken when it started to rain. A big, fat drop had landed on his forehead, and he’d stopped where he stood and let the rain fall on him. He’d breathed in deep the earthy smell, closing his eyes and lifting his face toward the sky. His father had to catch the last chicken and put it in the coop. His mother called to him to get out of the rain, and as he ran toward her with a huge grin on his face, she’d scolded him for getting soaking wet.

  His memory twisted, and he tightened his hold on the handlebars of his motorcycle. It was on a night like tonight that he finally met the one who’d bitten him. The silver hair so similar to the bright moonlight haunting Justin and the cocky sneer on the bastard’s lips as they’d faced off against each other. Justin hadn’t known about the legend then, or he’d have died trying to kill the one who’d turned him. He’d taunted Justin, stunning him long enough to escape. Over the many years since, he’d managed to catch up to him twice more, learning the name to go with the face Justin loathed with every breath—Jake.

  It was only thirty years ago when Justin learned of the cure he longed for from another werewolf he’d hunted; they had tried to use it as a bargaining chip for their life, much like Justin was doing with Vincent, he supposed. Yet he’d never gotten close enough to kill Jake since. If he’d known in the beginning and been able to break his curse, maybe he wouldn’t have killed so many innocents, and he could have gone home again. The idea of being able to hold his sister once more or to smell the scent of his mother’s hair or even see the broad smile on his father’s face haunted him.

  Tears mingled with the rain now. Painful twinges in his heart caused Justin to gasp for air. He had no particular destination as he drove, but he eventually found himself in front of Vincent’s building. He looked up at the apartments and wondered what had brought him there. No lights filtered from the window he figured belonged to Vincent, and Justin knew the hybrid probably was sleeping by then. A noise from his left caught his attention, and Justin glanced over to see a large shadow slipping along the side of the building. Eyes narrowing at the edges, Justin parked his bike and dismounted. He reached down and pulled out the silver knife he kept in his boot and then crept to where the shadow had been. He cursed himself for not ensuring he had his gun back before leaving Vincent’s earlier.

  Flattening himself against the wall, he peered around the edge and watched as the creature sniffed at the air. When the beast started to turn his way, Justin wrenched backward and waited. A moment later, he leaned toward the edge again, only to find the creature had disappeared. He slipped into the alley and moved down to the back of the apartments, but still nothing. He lifted his head slightly and sniffed at the air. Only a lingering scent of werewolf drifted on the breeze. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and Justin moved away from the building. The slight sound of a pebble shifting above him caught his attention in time to see a large shadow from above aimed right for him.

  Justin leapt backwards and felt the ground shake slightly as the creature hit the pavement in front of him. His knife would be useless against the creature. His only chance was to get to Vincent’s for a weapon. He dodged around the beast and grabbed onto the fire escape. The rain had made the metal slippery, and he almost lost his grip but managed to hold on by the skin of his teeth. With his inhuman strength, he pulled himself upward and over the first set of steps. His footsteps were loud on the metal, slamming onto each one, fast and hard. He heard the werewolf howl in fury, and it started after him, leaping between the two buildings to catch him, claws digging into the walls to hold on.

  Justin reached Vincent’s apartment and, looking through the window, saw him asleep on the bed. He opened the window and plunged inside to grab one of the swords resting against the dresser. Not even paying attention to the very much naked Vincent, who’d sat up in bed, he darted back out the window and raced the remainder of the way to the roof. The werewolf howled again and gave chase. Justin sprinted to the other side and launched himself across to the next building. The beast followed, and Justin swung around to face it. “Come on, you ugly bastard! What the hell are you waiting for?” he shouted, brandishing the sword.

  Fangs dripping with saliva, the werewolf snarled at Justin, circling around him. Justin struck at the werewolf, but it sidestepped his thrust and swung at him with its giant claws. Justin whirled away from it, and the claws missed by inches. “Justin! Look out!”

  Vincent’s warning came a second too late, and Justin didn’t have time to block a second beast’s attack. Razor sharp claws ripped into his side, tearing away part of his flesh. Justin grit his teeth and evaded the next swipe. He saw Vincent gain the attention of the first creature by swinging at it with another sword. The beast howled and turned on Vincent.

  Justin and Vincent fought side by side, swords flashing and metal clanging against claws. Vincent managed to slide the tip of his sword into the heart of the werewolf he fought. It let out a roar which no doubt rocked the walls of the building beneath them. The silver had pierced its heart, and seconds later it collapsed, dead.

  Vincent moved to assist Justin, but Justin managed to sheath the blade of the sword in the creature’s chest. The monster staggered for a moment and then fell forward, grabbing Justin as it fell over the side of the building. Justin closed his eyes at the sensation of free falling. He thought he heard Vincent cry out, but all he could do was try to twist the larger body beneath his. Only he didn’t quite succeed, and he hit the ground with half a five-hundred-pound werewolf landing top of him. He grunted and lay there, stunned.

  When he finally found the ability to move, he shoved at the werewolf’s body, his arms almost buckling from exhaustion, but then the beast began to shift on its own and Justin tensed, wondering if it were still alive. He realized a second later Vincent had hold of the creature and was lifting it off of him.

  “Justin,” Vincent said with what almost sounded like relief.

  Justin snorted in his head as he struggled to his feet. Glaring at the monster, he kicked at it, hard. “Shithead.”

  “I think we should set that before your bones heal. If we don’t it’ll heal wrong, and we’ll have to break it again.”

  Justin frowned and looked at his arm. “Oh,” he murmured, realizing he must have hit the ground harder than he’d thought. He hadn’t even noticed the odd angle the appendage stuck out at. “Yeah.”

  Vincent took hold of his arm, gentler than Justin would have expected. Justin braced himself against the side of the building. A loud pop crackled in the silence around them when Vincent pulled hard on the limb. Justin clenched his teeth and stifled a scream of agony, tipping his head back onto the brick behind him. “Fuck!”

  Blood soaked Justin’s shirt yet again, and he sighed, but the large gash in his side should heal soon. He staggered when he tried to straighten away from the wall. “I know it’s probably beneath you, but I think I need a little help standing,” he said to Vincent weakly.

  Even though his werewolf genes made him immortal and hard to kill without beheading or silver, he could still feel pain and could be weakened for an extended period of time. Vincent didn’t say anything in response. He stepped closer to Justin’s side and slid an arm around his waist. They walked to Vincent’s building next door, Justin leaning heavily into Vincent’s side. No words were exchanged on the short trip to the building and into the elevator. Only after Vincent helped Justin onto the only chair in his apartment did Vincent break the silence. “I’m going to go take care of the two bodies, and I’ll be right back.”

  Justin nodded and slumped in the chair with his eyes closed. He scented gasoline just before Vincent exited the apartment. He knew the only way to truly dispose of the bodies was to bury them or burn them. He assumed Vincent intended on discarding them in the dumpster behind the building before torching the corpses. Energy completely sapped, Justin found himself drifting into unconsciousness.

  Chapter 6

  Justin didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, but the most astonishing part was for the first time in two hundred years he’d slept without dreaming, and when he woke he felt something he hadn’t in just as long. Safe. A warm object across his belly registered, and Justin blinked himself awake to find Vincent’s arm lying across him. Justin sucked in a sharp breath and turned his head to find Vincent’s on the pillow next to him. He studied the strong lines of Vincent’s face. Several strands of the shocking white hair lay across his broad forehead. Any model would kill for the perfect line of Vincent’s nose, which ended in a pert little upturn. His perusal slid down to the sensual lips. The bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top, and he wanted nothing more than to lean in and feel them both against his own.

  What the hell am I thinking? Justin thought to himself. I need to get the hell out of here. Just then he felt Vincent’s fingers stroke lightly over his skin, and Justin sucked in a breath as arousal shifted through him. Before he could move, to stop the caress sending unwanted heat to his groin, Vincent’s eyes opened and stared at him unfocused for several seconds. Then Vincent jolted upright and sat there for a minute, running a hand through his hair. Without a word, Vincent left the bed and went into the adjoining bathroom. Justin stared after him and then heard the shower cut on.

  Justin had no intention of being there when Vincent got out of the shower. Those few moments would make everything awkward between them for sure. So Justin got off the bed, borrowed yet another shirt, and left. The night was beginning to fade, the fingers of dawn breaking the inky black sky. Justin started his bike and pulled into the already pretty busy traffic. By the time he got home, Kara had left for work.

  He entered the house and went into the kitchen to grab a soda from the fridge. A note sat on the table, and he slid it toward him, uncertain what Kara could have written.

  I’m sorry, Justin. I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that. Please forgive me. Can we talk tonight when I get home? Love, Kara.

  Justin sighed and then headed to his room. He thought back over last night’s battle with the werewolves. They were fighting together. Why? When Vincent had yelled to him in warning and he’d seen the other werewolf approaching from behind, he’d been momentarily stunned. Werewolves were solitary beasts. The only thing he could deduce was with the new awareness spell they had discovered they were apparently working toward some common goal or something. But what would they want?

  He took a quick shower, dressed, and went back to the kitchen to make some coffee. Even though Kara hated him smoking, he lit a cigarette and sat at the table until the coffee had finished brewing. Just when he’d taken another drag on the cigarette, he heard someone knock on the front door. He debated on ignoring it, but a louder, harder knock came. With a sigh of aggravation, he went to answer it. “Vincent,” he said, surprised to see him.

  Vincent strode past him into the house without waiting for an invitation. “Sure, just come in,” Justin said sarcastically, shutting the door.

  “We need to talk about last night.”

  Justin felt his face heat, a blush spreading over his cheeks, and wondered if something had happened in Vincent’s apartment that he didn’t remember. “You mean the fight?” he asked.

  “Of course I mean the fight. What the hell else would I mean?” Vincent glared at him.

  “No-Nothing,” Justin stuttered and returned to the kitchen. He grabbed two mugs out of the cabinet near the stove. Along the way he grabbed the cigarette he’d popped into the ashtray.

  Vincent abruptly voiced the same thing Justin had been thinking earlier. “You noticed it too, didn’t you? They were working together. But why?”

  “I don’t know. Do you think they’re going to try and do something to the humans?” Justin asked, voice muffled slightly with the cigarette perched in the corner of his mouth. He poured coffee in both mugs and set the carafe back down.

  “Maybe. I’m more interested in who their alpha is and how they found the spell. According to the archives the hunters have been keeping for the past hundred years, those scrolls were lost several centuries ago.”

  “Archives?” Justin asked. He set a mug in front of Vincent and sat across from the hybrid to enjoy his own.

  “There are more of us, you know,” Vincent said, superiority shining through his tone and the cocky tilt of his head. “I’m not the only one. I’m surprised you’ve managed to avoid hearing about us for so long.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not exactly the most sociable being on the planet. I’d heard whispers among the ones I hunted about others, but I didn’t care enough to try and find out the truth. We were working toward the same purpose, so I figured if the hunters were real then I was glad to have the help eradicating a species on this earth who cause nothing but death and bloodshed.”

  “A species to which you belong,” Vincent pointed out.

  “A species to which I belong, and as soon as this is all over you’ll be adding my body to the two you disposed of last night,” Justin responded.

  A strange look flashed over Vincent’s features before he answered. “Fine. Let’s start searching for the nest we found the other day. They couldn’t have gone far. We’ll start at the alley and work out in widening zones until we find them.”

  They made plans to searching starting that night. There had to be a reason for the attacks and the way the werewolves were no longer trying to hide themselves. Justin decided to bring up what had happened earlier. “Listen, about this morning—”

  Vincent interrupted him. “What about this morning? We both needed sleep, and it was the only bed. I move a lot when I sleep. It’s nothing, so forget it ever happened.” Without another word, he stormed out of the house.

  Justin stared after Vincent for several contemplative moments and then went to dress for work. Lee stuck him at the host stand again, and he sighed when he realized his tip monies hadn’t been so good lately. Restlessness ate at him while he worked. His skin tingled where Vincent had stroked him, almost as though the touch had been burned into his flesh. He could almost feel the tips of his fingers still touching him. Justin took a short cigarette break in the alley again in the hope Vincent would show, but his shift passed peacefully with no glimpses of the white-haired hybrid.

  He used the phone in Lee’s office to make a quick call to Kara. She wasn’t home yet, so he left a message telling her of his plans to search for the others with Vincent. When he exited the restaurant, he spotted Vincent leaning on the building across the street. He jogged over, dodging through traffic, and stopped beside him.

  “I’ll head that way.” Vincent pointed to the north. “You head that way.” He tossed his thumb to the south.

  “Fine.” Justin started to walk away when Vincent’s warm hand landed on his shoulder.

  “Watch your ass, wolf,” he said.

  Justin looked at him in surprise. “Are you worried about me?”

  Vincent gave a small snort and replied, “Nah. I just don’t want to miss out on the pleasure of killing you myself.”

  Sighing, Justin headed off the way Vincent had pointed and stopped every so many hundred feet to sniff at the air. He found the scents of food, humans, garbage, and even marijuana, but no wolves. He watched the people walking the streets, looking for any hint one of them wasn’t quite human. An itch began in the middle of his shoulder blades, and eventually Justin realized someone followed him. Taking a chance, he glanced over his shoulder, but there were too many people on the sidewalks to tell which one trailed him.

  He made a decision to force the person out into the open and turned toward the park where his deal with Vincent began. The crowd began to thin out the closer he got, and the stairs leading into the park were deserted. He stopped at the top and turned. A young blond woman stood at the base of the stairs holding a very deadly-looking crossbow. Justin took a step back as she raised it. He watched her for a split second longer and then realized where he’d seen her before. She’d been the woman with Vincent in the restaurant the first day they’d met. Son of a bitch. He sent her to kill me.

 

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