Blood Wolf (Vintage Collection)
“What about the word the vamp used?”
“Nothing from the search engines. Except…”
“Except what?”
“Well, it could be a derivative of volkodlak, which is a Russian word for wolf hair or hairy wolf.”
Damian stretched his arms and rubbed his temple. His head throbbed. Cold showers did that to him. “Wolf hair. The bloodsucker knew something.”
“Maybe, but it’s not much to go on. I put up some new posts as discreetly as I could. Maybe…”
Damian sighed. “Yeah, maybe.”
“What’s troubling you, lad?”
“Other than the fact that I morph into a wolf every full moon, you mean?”
Dougal’s mouth twisted into a grin. They had both learned to joke about Damian’s condition. “Aye, lad, other than that.”
“Suzanne.”
“Ah.”
“She is reluctant to lie with me.”
“Crivvens, lad, will you listen to yourself? Of course she is. She just met you!”
“She wants me. I can tell.”
“That may be. But she’s a woman. A foreigner. She might be homesick. She’s in a new country, and she just had a traumatic experience in town. She’s no doubt grateful to you, Damian, but you mustn’t push her.”
“I don’t want to push her, Da. I really don’t.” Damian paced back and forth across the small room. “But when I’m with her, the need is so strong. It’s like I’ll die if I can’t have her.”
“You’re sure you’ve never experienced anything like this before?”
“Never.”
“Not even during the change?”
“Well, that I can’t tell you. You know I have no memories of the change, except for scenting Suzanne the other night.”
“Aye, but subconsciously. Does what you’re feeling seem familiar at all? In the slightest?”
Damian shook his head, sat down in front of the second computer, and flipped the on switch. “Were you ever in love, Da?”
Dougal leaned back in his chair and smiled. “Aye. Once.”
“Before you found me?”
“Aye. She died young. Polio.”
“I’m sorry.”
Dougal shrugged. “It was a long time ago.” He cleared his throat. “Why this talk of love, lad? Is that what you’re feeling?”
“I don’t know. Even I know the absurdity of falling in love with someone I’ve known only for a day.”
“Love’s a strange thing. I think I fell in love the first day.”
Damian arched his eyebrows. “Indeed?”
“Aye.”
Damian turned back to the computer. “How do I get a woman to fall in love with me?”
“Michty me, I’ve no idea, lad. ’Twas a long time ago.”
“Come on, Da.”
“Well, ease up, for one. Stop pushing her and try wooing her.”
“Wooing her?”
“Aye. Pick her a bouquet of wild flowers. Take her on a walk around the castle grounds. A picnic on the hills. That sort of thing.”
Damian turned to face the computer monitor and typed “how to woo a woman” onto the Google bar. Och! Over a million hits!
He clicked on the first. This was going to be a long afternoon.
14
Markus cursed as he rose from his bed to take a leak. He hadn’t felt this bad in decades. Damn Damian MacGowan. The bloke was tall and muscular, but Markus should have been able to take him out.
He relieved himself and swallowed six ibuprofen for his throbbing head.
He sniffed. His mother’s scent lingered, but she wasn’t in the flat. He breathed deeply. He scented Rex above, minding the store. Then the bloodlust hit.
A human entered the shop, and a light truffle-laced scent wafted downward. Androgens. Male, mid thirties, probably blond. His under-scent was peppery and softly floral, not the more herbal aroma of dark hair. The gush of the customer’s blood thrummed in Markus’s ears. Male blood hadn’t touched his tongue in months. He preferred the sweet tang of a female, but a male, laced with musk and testosterone, was a pleasure to be savored, if only once in a while. He had no taste for males sexually, but their blood held a power all its own.
Damn.
He hadn’t fed last night, and he needed sustenance. Quickly, he trod to the kitchen and grabbed a sealed bag of sheep’s blood out of the refrigerator. He couldn’t exist long on animal blood due to his paternity, but it would keep the lust at bay until dark. He ripped the packet open and drank. The acrid thickness of the liquid burned his throat. How did Mum and Rex live on this rotgut?
His hunger sated for the time being, he returned to his bedroom and fired up his computer. Time to do a little research.
Damian MacGowan had bloodied the wrong vampire.
15
Suzanne rose to answer the knock on her bedroom door. Although no one stood outside, a rectangular box on the floor greeted her. She picked it up and read the attached note.
“These confections aren’t near as sweet as you, but I hope you enjoy them. I’ll come for you at six bells. Damian.”
Suzanne’s lips curved into a grin. She assumed six bells meant six o’clock. She checked her watch. Four thirty. She had an hour and a half to get ready. But what to wear? She had no idea where they were going or what they would do.