Dead Sexy

He saw her stiffen as an answering cry was borne to her on the wind. Moments later, three wolves materialized out of the shadows. Fangs bared, hackles raised, they walked stiff-legged toward her.

Santiago went to stand beside Regan, his own hackles raised, a snarl rising in his throat. It was obvious from their stance that the wolves meant to fight.

Santiago swore inwardly. Why hadn't he realized there would be wild wolves here and that they would be protective of their territory? He never should have brought Regan here, but it was too late now.

She pressed herself against him as the wolves closed in. Santiago spoke to her mind, telling her not to be afraid, and not to run, but to stand her ground, and then he moved forward to confront the alpha male.

Growling, they circled each other. Santiago felt his blood run hot at the prospect of a fight. He let the alpha male attack first and then, with savage fury, he lashed out. Even so, he held back, not wanting to kill the other wolf. He bit down hard on the wolf's left flank, his mouth filling with the warm coppery taste of blood. Animal blood was never as satisfying as human blood, but now, in the heat of battle, it tasted like the sweetest elixir.

It wasn't until he heard Regan's cry that he realized the other two wolves had attacked her. Enraged, he quickly disabled the alpha male, then went to Regan's defense, but there was no need. She fought like one possessed, biting and snapping until the two females tucked their tails between their legs and ran off. Limping badly, the male followed.

Tail wagging, Regan pranced toward Santiago. She circled him, then rolled onto her back, whining softly.

Santiago licked the blood from her face, stifling the urge to mate as he did so. Even in wolf form, blood and desire were closely linked, but he restrained himself, certain that Regan would be outraged.

With a yip, he backed off, his tail wagging.

Regan rolled to her feet and trotted off into the forest.

After a moment, Santiago followed.

The rest of the night passed quickly. They chased each other through the woods, dined on a deer that Regan brought down, slept beside a shallow stream.

Santiago woke when he felt dawn's approach, his body automatically shifting to its natural form. Regan had done likewise while she slept. He spent a moment simply looking at her, admiring the sheer beauty of her body, the rise and fall of her br**sts, the softness of her skin, the wealth of her hair, the shapely length of her legs, her narrow waist, and the curve of her hips. His fingertips brushed her cheek, caressed her throat, slid over her shoulder.

Muttering an oath, he jerked his hand away. He had no right to touch her, should be ashamed of himself for the lustful thoughts tumbling through his mind.

Aware that the sun would soon be rising, he gathered Regan into his arms and raced back to his lair in the Byways. He arrived just as the sun rose over the horizon, felt its deadly heat on his back as he ducked into the building and slammed the door.

Once inside, he went into the bedroom. He settled Regan in his bed and pulled the blankets over her. It was a shame to cover such beauty, he thought, thinking that he would love to crawl in beside her and gather her into his arms, to hold her and make slow, sweet love to her until his body demanded that he succumb to the Dark Sleep.

A soft sigh escaped her lips. Was she dreaming of him? Unable to resist, he slid into her mind and smiled at what he saw…

They were walking through a forest much like the one they had just left. She wore a sleeveless white sundress that fluttered in the breeze. Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, shimmering in the sun like a veil of gold silk. She looked up at him, her eyes aglow with love and desire.

A waterfall appeared ahead and she ran toward it, beckoning him to join her. At the pool, she shed her clothing and slipped into the water. Shedding his own garments, he dove in after her. For a time, they cavorted under the waterfall like carefree children. She let out a shriek when a fish brushed against her foot. Moving closer to the shore, she splashed him and then swam away, laughing. He immediately gave chase. She squealed with mock terror when he caught her, her body writhing against his as she struggled to free herself. Her skin was slick and smooth, her br**sts warm and firm against his chest, firing his desire and he took her there, in the shallows near the edge of the pool, slaking his lust for her sweet flesh even as he bent his head and surrendered to the desire for her life's blood…

Regan woke with a cry of denial on her lips, her eyes widening when she saw Santiago standing beside the bed. "Did you… ?"

He shook his head. "It was only a dream." He studied the expression on her face. "Or perhaps a nightmare."

"Whose dream?" she asked. "Yours or mine?"

He lifted one shoulder and let it fall. "It started as yours."

"How can you do that?" she demanded angrily.

"How can you be in my dreams? How can you twist them to suit you?" She started to sit up; then, realizing she was naked beneath the sheet, she pulled the blankets up higher, her eyes shooting angry sparks at him.

"It is just another of my powers."

"What else can you do? What else have you done to me?"

"I can hypnotize you. I can bend your will to mine. I can erase whatever memories you have of me from your mind and your heart."

Her eyes widened. "Have you ever done any of those things to me?"

"No."

She looked skeptical.

"Trust me, Regan. I would not lie to you."

"I don't have much choice, do I?"

"I will never betray you, or defile you, or lie to you," he said, though he knew there would likely be times in the days ahead when, for one reason or another, he would refrain from telling her the whole truth.

"I believe you."

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took one of her hands in his. "How do you feel?" He loved being near her, touching her, feeling the warmth of her skin.

"I feel all right. Why? Is something wrong? Did something happen last night?"

"No."

Holding the blanket to her chest, she sat up. "I had fun last night," she remarked, her voice barely audible. "How can that be? I don't want to be a werewolf. I don't want to get used to it."

"Would that be so bad?"

She snorted softly. "Would you want to marry a werewolf?"

His gaze moved over her face, lingering on her lips and the line of her throat. "I would not mind."

She shook her head. "My grandmother said true happiness can only be found when like marries like. Birds don't marry fish, dogs don't marry cats."