"First I sent Bob and his pals, but you ran them off."
At my blank expression he elaborated. "Big gray wolf and several others?"
Ah, the ones that had attacked my car.
"Then I sent Teddy."
Which I assumed to be the caramel-shaded drooler Damien had dispatched.
"Bob and Teddy were fuckups in life. They weren't any better as wolves. If you want something done, you just have to do it yourself."
The last word descended into a growl. Hector unbuttoned his shirt, shrugged the garment off, and shucked his pants. I tried to avert my eyes, but the pentagram tattoo glistened black in the lamplight, catching, then holding my attention.
His chest was smooth, unmarred, except for that. I wondered for an instant why the tattoo didn't heal every time he changed. But then he changed, and I didn't care about anything else.
I'd seen a hundred, a thousand, men go wolf, but never one as quickly as Hector.
Only the very old or the very powerful could change like that, or so I'd heard. Take a guess which one Hector was.
He changed so fast my brain had a hard time keeping up with my eyes. One instant his nose and mouth were there; the next they were a snout. White fur sprouted from his pores; hands and feet became paws; a tail sprouted from his butt. I blinked and he was on all fours. The next instant he let out a howl that echoed off the enclosed space, making my ears ring.
His head swung in my direction and his mouth opened in a doggie pant. Too bad his teeth were all werewolf.
I pulled on the ropes, but I'd been pulling since Hector had tied me to the bed. He knew what he was doing. I wasn't going to get away.
The mattress dipped as he leaped on top. The slightly gamy scent of wild animal washed over me. His fur brushed my arm. I fought not to retch. I certainly didn't want to lie in my own puke. But then again, once he bit me, what difference did anything make?
The white wolf straddled me. Right paws on my left side, left paws on my right. He seemed to be uncertain where to bite me. His snout snuffled my legs, my arms, my crotch.
"Hey!"
He lifted his head. His tongue lolled and drool dripped onto my chest.
"Get on with it," I muttered.
He tossed his head, yipped, and nuzzled my breast. I cringed.
A growl reverberated around the room. Hector froze. So did I. Together our heads turned.
Damien stood in the entranceway. Or rather, a brown wolf did.
Hector snarled. I expected him to jump off the bed, off me, and chase Damien into the woods. Somehow I'd have to get free. Somehow Damien would have to win a fight to the death against an extremely powerful shape-shifter, How was he going to do that?
I was so preoccupied with the problem, I didn't see it coming. When Hector's teeth sank into the fleshy part of my upper arm, I shrieked.
Hell, I'd have shrieked even if I'd seen it coming. Being bit hurt!
Without so much as a backward glance, Hector leaped off the bed. Damien braced himself for the attack. I wanted to shout, No, save yourself! I'm already dead! But my mouth was too dry to form the words, my throat too thick to make a sound.
But instead of smacking into Damien or launching himself with claws and teeth, Hector shifted into a crow and flew out the door.
For an instant I thought I was delirious. I closed my eyes, hard, opened them again. Damien sat on his haunches, nose tilted up as he searched the ceiling for Hector.
No such luck. The bird, the wolf, the man, was gone.
I'd never seen anything like it - except in a vampire movie. Bam, he's a bat. In this case, wham, he's a crow,
I'd only seen one crow in this town. On Jessie's win-dowsill. No wonder Hector had known everything we'd done. No wonder we'd been unable to find him or the white wolf.
This was going to be a helluva lot more difficult than I'd thought, and I'd thought it would be damn near impossible.
I glanced at my arm. Ugh, that wasn't right. A flap of skin hung free, and blood dampened the sheets. It burned like a son of a bitch.
How long did I have before I got furry? Less than twenty-four hours. I needed to find Jessie and Will, preferably before whoever or whatever Hector had sent to kill them succeeded. Then I would tell them all that I knew and bite the bullet. So to speak.
I turned my head, whistled to Damien. He trotted over.
"Can you get me out of this?" I asked.
He licked me from chin to forehead.
"You love me. I know. Thanks."
If I'd wanted a dog, I'd have bought one. Having the man I'd slept with panting with passion was one thing. Having the man I slept with drooling werewolf slobber all over me was another.
I heard his bones crackle before I saw him shift. He was faster at it than a lot of shifters I'd known, though not as fast as Hector. Of course, Damien was over fifty years a werewolf. The change had to get easier with practice.
A few minutes later he crouched next to the bed. His gaze immediately went to my arm. "Oh, Leigh, I - "
"Save it," I snapped. "Cut me loose. We have to find Jessie and Will."
I'll say this for Damien; he could take orders. He freed me, grabbed some of Hector's clothes, which were too big on him, but naked guys can't be choosers, and helped me off the bed.
He tried to treat my wound, but I shoved his hands away. "Forget it."
I yanked a pillowcase off a pillow and tied the thing around my arm. It wasn't easy with only one arm.
This time when Damien helped, I let him.
"You should have that cleaned and stitched," he said as he tightened the bandage.
"Won't matter."
Our eyes met. "No," he murmured. "It won't matter. Not to me."
I ignored the implications. Didn't have time for them right now. Or anything else.
"We have to get to a phone."
I stood and swayed. Another scene played before my eyes - earth, trees, blue sky. I smelled the dirt, heard the leaves rustle, felt the sun hot on my fur.
Fur? Ugh!
Suddenly I was back in the abandoned mine. I touched my arms, my face. Skin. Whew!
"Whoa, what was that?" I muttered.
"Flashback?"