“He’s underground, Kate.” Baye’s cautious surveying of the area belied his words. “But I do find it interesting he’s stayed around town with us taking so many of his kind down.”
“No you don’t.” She reached for the knife along her calf, eyeing an empty berth at the end of the dock. A yacht horn blared lonely and sad in the far distance. Waves lapped up on the shore. “As always, you have a hypothesis.”
He shifted his weight, stepping in front of her to inch down the dock. Blocking her. “As a matter of fact, I do.”
She hustled to his side, growling when he elbowed her back. “Get out of my way.”
“Rules. You sense, you direct ... you do not fight.” Baye kept his voice low, his gaze forward. “There’s something up ahead, I sense some type of animal. Maybe good old Snuggles is living on the water full-time now.”
“I’m an excellent fighter.” Sure, she’d lost some ability from the incredibly slow progression of the virus. But she could still fight. The fact that part of her wanted to run and hide from the brute forced her shoulders back and her feet into motion. The second she let evil intimidate her, she lost.
“Rules.”
“Screw the rules.” If Baye had a clue as to the nightmares this werewolf had given her, he’d try to force her out of the field. Could Snuggles actually be near? “We have one night to get this guy before you head home and I go to Oregon.” She’d go with Jordan just to get him there for Emma to experiment on. To cure. Then she’d figure out the rest of her life.
A boom echoed behind her. She swiveled, her back smashing into the bow of a pleasure yacht. Bruises cut deep, and she bit her lip to keep from groaning. Feet braced, hair bristling, a seven-foot werewolf stood in the middle of the narrow dock. The stench of unwashed animal assaulted her nostrils. Her eyes actually burned.
Baye shoved her behind him.
Another hairy beast leapt out of the shadows to block her way. She angled around, pressing her shoulders against Baye’s back. They both dropped into fighting stances.
Images of death and such pleasure taken in killing almost dropped Katie to the ground. She yanked mental shields into place. Her chest tightened. Her hands dampened. Drawing on years of training, she settled her mind and tilted her head to the side, studying the deep black fur of the monster in front of her. Intelligent yellow eyes glinted in the dim moonlight. Adrenaline shot through her tissues, shooting the night into pinpoint focus. Why wasn’t he attacking? “Well now, Snuggles. We finally meet face-to-face.” Her voice wavered slightly.
He lifted his long snout, sniffing. “Kaattieee.”
Low, mournful, nearly gleeful, his voice spiraled true fear into her gut.
Baye stiffened against her. “Did he just fucking talk?”
“I, uh ...” Katie gasped out. “No way. Just a weird growl.”
The monster flashed sharp, yellowed canines. “Kaattieee. Kaattieee.” He sniffed again. “Been watching Kaattieee.”
On all that was holy. Werewolves didn’t speak.
Baye growled. “Kate, circle to your left. I want to face this asshole.”
The werewolf shook his head. Thick fur flew. “No. Kaattieee mine.” He bunched his legs. “Now.”
Boards creaked. The other werewolf charged, rushing into Baye and sending Katie flying. Right into the arms of the beast. Fur slammed up her nostrils. He grabbed her, lifting up. With a snarl, she shoved her knife into his throat, slamming her head into his nose.
He dropped her, howling in pain. She landed on her ass, bouncing on the wet dock. Hurt shot up her tailbone. Fear caught in her lungs. His claws swiped out, grabbing her by the hair. Blood gushed when he yanked the knife from his neck, throwing the blade into the water.
Pain lanced her scalp as he jerked her up. His other hand shot out, claws scraping down her arm. Agony flared along her nerves, the skin flayed open.
She opened her mouth in a silent scream. Tears clogged her vision.
Baye and the other werewolf tumbled into the lake, teeth flashing and claws emerging. Bubbles shot to the surface. Baye needed to shift.
Jordan’s voice slammed into her head. So many lessons in self-defense had been required of her growing up. Think. Accept the reality ... and think. Bending her leg, she kneed the werewolf in the groin.
He howled, releasing her, stepping back. His irises turned red. Then he smiled.
Darting out his long tongue, he licked red off his claws. Blood. Her blood. A low rumble came from deep in his chest. “I ... find ... you ... now ... Kaattieee.”
Nausea swirled in her belly. Taking a step back, she slid a gun from her ankle holster, aiming between his eyes. Silver bullets—they wouldn’t kill him, but they’d knock him down long enough so she could remove his head. But first ... “Who were you? Do you know?”
He licked one claw clean, a low moan filling the night.
She needed to puke. “Who—were—you?”
His paw dropped to his side and he smacked his lips. “Me.”
“Yes, you.” If he’d evolved, what had happened to the virus? Should she try to keep him alive? Could he be the key to curing it? Would dead blood be as good to Emma as freshly pumping blood?
“Me.” He stretched his neck, eyeing the moon. “Not Snuggles.”
“No. Not Snuggles.” God. She wanted to kill him. But what if the cure ran through his blood? Or at least a mutation of the virus that allowed him to evolve. “What was your name?”
Several berths down, Baye leaped out of the water in cougar form. Oh, he was going to be angry. He hated the water in any form ... especially cougar. The salt had matted his unusually dark coat, turning his fur nearly black. Seconds later, the werewolf followed, landing on the cat. With a screech of outrage, Baye flipped around and went for the monster’s throat.
The werewolf in front of Katie turned, viewed the fight, then shrugged and refocused back on her. Sparks lit his odd eyes. “My name not Jordan.”
Everything inside Katie silenced. Stilled. “You know Jordan?”
“Saw Jordan. Visit you.” The beast’s snout lifted in a fierce snarl. “Jordan baaaad.”
The werewolf had been watching her? Her breath began to pant out. So much for hiding out until the full moon. The beasts were evolving into a more dangerous threat to all beings than they’d realized. “Did you know Jordan before?”
“Yeesss.”
She’d shoot him in the leg if it would gain his cooperation. More likely, he’d charge and rip her throat out. If she fired, she needed to kill. “One last chance. Who were you?”
A huge splash sounded as Baye and the werewolf fell into the lake again.
The werewolf eyed the gun. “Brrenntt.”
“Brent? Your name was Brent?”
“Yeesss. Brrenntt.”
The cougar scrambled up the dock, slipping.
Faster than wind, Brent jumped on top of the boat, leaping for the next berth. Fiberglass cracked with a loud protest. Katie yelped and fired, bullets ricocheting off the bow. A second later, the monster disappeared.
The air shimmered and Baye shifted from cougar to wet, pissed-off male. He stalked forward, buck-ass naked. “I smell blood. God, he didn’t bite you, did he?”
“No.” Werewolves infected humans by biting them ... the bites had no effect on shifters. Of course, Katie wasn’t quite a shifter anymore, so there might be a risk. “I have a nick on my arm.” Katie averted her eyes from the sight of a lot of male flesh. “Did you kill the other werewolf?”
“Yes, I bit his throat out, decapitating him.” Baye grabbed her wrist, flipping her arm over. “Jesus, Kate. You won’t need stitches, but it’ll hurt for a while.”
That wasn’t the half of it. Brent had the taste of her blood. Every instinct she owned screamed he wanted more of it.