Werewolves in London (2 page)

Orphaned when she was two and raised by a foster family in Dallas, Vonda never knew about the wolf within her until puberty came and the change hit. The terror she felt that first time still haunted her. When most girls her age got cramps with their periods, she changed into a beast. Like she could discuss that one with her foster mom. Luckily that first time she didn’t share a bedroom and no one saw her. For three days around the full moon she changed into a wolf at sundown and back at sunrise.

After that first time, she learned how to sneak out of the house and stay in the shadows. Winter was the worst, when the nights were long and darkness hit around five thirty. Lying became second nature, fear always present. When she turned eighteen and rented her own place, things became easier. She learned how to hunt, how to temper her amazing physical strength and what the auras around people meant.

Just when she thought she had it all figured out, that being a werewolf was no different than having some strange disease, she went into heat.

Intense sexual urges she couldn’t resist accompanied the heat cycle. Any man in her vicinity risked being used like a stud. Not that most men minded. Her ex sure didn’t. She, on the other hand, hated how she acted, hated having to get laid like an addict needed to shoot up. While her ex loved her carefree sexual attitude, her conservative upbringing caused her to hate it. But with the heat coursing through her veins, forcing her mind on only one thing, she had no choice; she needed a man like an addict needed a fix. After a whirlwind romance consisting of a bunch of now-embarrassing sex, her ex had proposed, clearly confusing lust with love. Try as she might, she couldn’t blame him for using her, not when she returned the favor ten times over.

It lasted all of two months, until her husband saw her change. No amount of great sex could hurdle that barrier. He ran out of their apartment faster than she could howl, screaming Vonda was a dog. How insulting.

And now she was in heat again.

All she could think of was Tom, his scent, the electric zing that shot through her body when his hand touched hers. If she remembered correctly, the heat only lasted the time of the full moon. All she had to do was avoid all men, including Tom, and she shouldn’t have a problem.

Vonda dropped her purse on the table by the door, striding down the hall to her bedroom. The house was silent except for the ticking of the mantel clock. Tick, tock, each click of the minute hand tugging her one step closer to the change. Kicking off her shoes, she pulled her T-shirt over her head, laying it on the bed. The bra came next, and she tugged off her jeans, folding them in a neat pile on top of the rest of her clothes. The lace thong made a nice bow on the pile.

She felt the magic now, humming in her veins, flowing along her skin. Not much time remained.

Vonda walked down the hall, into the kitchen and out the back door. Under her feet the grass felt warm, soothing. She stood facing west, watching the sun slip beneath the horizon, drawing its rays across the ground like a web. Magic seeped under her skin, rippling muscles, quickening her heart rate. The power built, until her jaw clenched against the pain. Bones snapped, elongating, shortening, changing. Fur streamed over her skin as her hands turned into paws.

Dropping to the ground on all fours, the wolf let loose a howl, shaking the pain free. The grass sprang under her feet as she padded toward the edge of her property.

The hunt was on.

As a wolf, she followed her instincts. As a human, she followed reason. Despite her upbringing, or lack thereof, she learned how to merge her wolf’s mind with her human one; how to use her heightened senses no matter what physical state she was in. She listened to her instincts now. They were never wrong when it came to food and that meant food ran ten miles to the east.

A good night’s exercise.

Howls sounded from the direction she headed. Her heart leapt at the sound. Cousins. Not a hundred percent like her, but close enough. Wolves accepted her into their packs, although they remained wary of her, uncertain if she was an alpha or omega. Vonda never fought for status in a pack, why should she—even though they were cousins, she didn’t belong with them.

She didn’t fit in anywhere. As a human she was stronger, faster and had a big hairy secret. As a wolf, her scent smelled like a human, puzzling her cousins, causing them to remain wary of her. She walked among both worlds but belonged to neither.

But at least here in London, Montana she could become a wolf without worrying if humans saw her furry half. There were no wild wolves in Dallas or anywhere in Texas that she knew of. Moving to Montana had been self-preservation and so far, it had been a good move.

No one questioned one extra wolf roaming here and she didn’t have to hide for three days like she used to. Why she waited so long to move here was beyond her. She should have moved sooner.

Maybe then she could have avoided the ex. She could have had Tom instead.

Stop it, Vonda!
Tom needed to be avoided. At least until the heat went away. Thank God her next appointment with him was after the full moon. Hopefully the heat would be gone then too.

Howls sounded to her right and she veered toward them. She saw images in her mind, images sent by her cousins, their way of communicating. A herd of deer standing in a copse of trees, their ears pricking forward, listening. Feelings of quietness, the hush of paws on grass, the excitement of the impending kill crept through her veins.

Telepathy rocked.

Vonda found her cousins watching the deer, biding their time. She trotted to the back of the hunting party and lowered her tail and ears. The wolves nearest to her sniffed her in a proper how-do-you-do. She felt their uncertainty, but they didn’t chase her off and more images of wolves killing deer slashed through her mind.

And then they were running, the deer sprinting away, wolves pounding after them.

Vonda stayed in the back, helping chase, but not taking down a deer. She wouldn’t eat first either, that treat belonged to the alpha pair.

Trees flashed by her as she sprinted after the deer, low foliage slapping her face. The smells of the forest excited her, the word “home” a constant thought. Her breath sawed in and out of her lungs, she really needed to hit the track in human form.

Three feet from the deer, she smelled
them
on the evening breeze. A scent that left her salivating.
Cattle
. Directly to her left.

She veered. To hell with the deer. Why have venison when she could dine on steak tartare?

Even as a human she liked her meat raw. And what better to eat than steak, straight off the steer?

Vonda thought the image of cattle and sent it to the nearest wolf who stumbled in his flight after his dinner. Emotions crashed over her, fear, fright, followed by thoughts of humans. Bad, scary, she should stay where it’s safe, where humans with explosive sticks couldn’t hurt her.

She almost stopped, but why should she be scared of the humans? She was half human after all. And there was steak, did she mention that? Raw, fresh. Much better tasting than deer.

Adios cousins, she was on a new chase.

Her legs picked up speed, churning dirt and leaves as she raced across the ground. A barbed wire fence stopped her progress. The cattle lowed on the other side.

Close. So close. She could dine on steak tartare tonight. Her stomach growled.

Vonda eyed the fence. Two rows of barbed wire were strung between wooden posts. It didn’t look like an electrical fence. The fence was meant to keep animals in, not out. And as a werewolf she had her own way of getting through the fence that her canine brethren found impossible to do.

She ducked her head between the two wires, following with her left front leg, then left rear leg. The right side followed and she was through. The cattle looked her way. She snarled and leapt.

Cattle scattered as the wolf attacked. Not as fast as deer, they still ran for their lives. Vonda picked out one at the back of the pack and jumped at its throat, taking it down. The cow screamed, the sound ending in a gurgle as its throat tore open, blood streaming. She shook her head, spraying blood across the grass.

She waited until the blood slowed to a trickle, the spirit of the cow flying free. Once it was dead, Vonda sank her teeth into its hide.
Dinner, ah
.

Steak tartare never tasted so good. Her monthly treat since she arrived in town three months ago. Last thing needed was for wolves to be blamed for monthly cattle killing, which is why she tried to hit a different ranch each month. Problem was she hadn’t learned the boundary lines of each rancher or who all the ranchers were. Tom was the only one she’d met and he managed to turn her on even when she was in wolf form.

From the darkness came barking, riding the wind as it blew across the ground. She raised her blood-soaked muzzle and inhaled the wind. A dog was closing in, running full force toward her. Shouldn’t be a problem, dogs lacked the strength of wolves.

You can’t be seriously considering killing a dog, Vonda. Get real!
Her human mind overrode the wolf’s instincts and she turned and faced the oncoming dog.

Vonda snarled at it, baring teeth, letting it know the cow belonged to her. A brown and white dog pulled up short, its tail initially dropping, then curling as it snarled back.

Tom wasn’t kidding around when he said Sam presented a problem. The damn dog was willing to go up against a wolf, and a werewolf at that. Not the smartest animal around, but Vonda had to give him points for bravery. Or maybe it was pure stupidity.

What was he doing over here? Shouldn’t he be on Tom’s property? She sent the dog an image of her talking to Tom, petting Sam, telling him to sit.

Sam cocked his head as his growls stopped. Vonda pushed the images harder, her petting his head as he sat. Sitting was good, he wanted to sit, he didn’t want to attack. Attacking bad, sitting good.

Sam sat.

She pictured the house and sent it to Sam. Unfortunately, the house reminded her of Tom, and her blood ran hot, her sex swelling. Sam whined and stood.

Eww, yuck. He wouldn’t dare. She ventured a glance under the dog’s hindquarters. Whew. Neutered.

She snarled again, trying the house pictures once more. Sam sat; the tip of his tail wagging and Vonda saw Tom sitting at a table with a girl of around ten, the scent of fear rolling off him. Vonda closed her eyes, shaking her head. A dog sent her pictures?

She’d never had that happen before. But why shouldn’t it, dogs were distant cousins and all canines possessed the ability for telepathy. Which was why dog training came so naturally to her. She pictured what the dog should do until the animal understood which sound went with the picture. However, no dog had sent any image other than chasing critters back to her.

Maybe she could only communicate with them while in wolf form. If being a werewolf only came with a how-to manual, things would be a lot easier.

Tom’s fear, as seen through Sam’s eyes, strode through her brain, triggering a like response in her. Sam’s ward was in trouble, she had to help. Wait a minute; Tom didn’t belong to Sam, which was the whole root of the trouble in that relationship.

Vonda shook her head. It didn’t matter at the moment who was in charge, Tom or Sam, all that mattered was that Tom was in trouble, something was wrong. Vonda probed into Sam’s memories, seeing nothing to cause fear in Tom. His daughter was smiling, but something was wrong.

What? Sam had ducked out the dog door, smelling her scent even across the distance. He hadn’t wanted her kill, he’d wanted her.

And now she had to help him.

Sam barked once, signaling he understood her decision to help him and took off across the darkened pasture, heading toward the house, Vonda following.

****

“Hey Dad, look what I did in art class.” Elizabeth held up a canvas with a picture of the mountains.

“You painted that?”

She nodded. “Yep. Whatcha think?”

“Wow, girl. You’re quite the little artist.” Tom smiled, impressed with her picture. Who knew his daughter drew like that?

“Daaadddyyy.” She slapped a hand down on the kitchen table. “I’m NOT a little girl. I’m almost grown.”

Problem was she spoke the truth. Amazing how time flew. He’d swear yesterday he first held her in his arms, her tiny fists balled, her face red and grimacing. She sat at the table, her features identical to his, her hair, though, the dark brown of Anita’s, a girl on the cusp of adolescence. What would he do with a teenage girl? Weren’t there things only a woman could tell her?

He really needed to start dating. If not for himself then for his daughter. She needed a mom. A mom like Vonda.

Visions of tanned legs wrapped around his waist while he drove into her, again and again, harder, faster, rushed through his brain. What was it about that woman that got him hard while he cooked dinner? There was nothing sexy about raw meat.

Tom flipped the burger on his indoor grill and continued his conversation with Elizabeth.

“Yep, you’re growing up. Pretty soon you’ll be able to cook for me while I sit and watch you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Daddy. I can’t cook.”

Tom laughed. Elizabeth always said that. She looked so peaceful sitting at the table, doing her homework. Nothing at all like his vision, where a huge man held her, her face dripping blood from a cut on her head, her eyes wide, as she struggled in the man’s grip.

Just thinking of what he saw gave Tom chills.

“Daddy, it’s burning!”

So it was. Tom flipped the burger, shooting Elizabeth an apologetic smile. “A little charcoal never hurt anyone, honey.”

“Whatever.” She waved a hand, returning to her books.

Would he be able to keep her safe? Where was he in that vision? That man he saw was huge, like a steroid-crazed wrestler, and Tom was no lightweight.

Why...how? Tom’s visions always came true. Or at least they had when he was a child; he hadn’t tried to see anything since he saw his mother’s death a day before she died. Now he needed to learn how to stop that man from getting Elizabeth.