"And what does he use it for?" Phil demanded. "Raising cattle and sheep. Buying more land. Raising more cattle. More sheep. And the highlight of his existence is going out once a month to kill a defenseless animal."
"It's what we do. You enjoy hunting, too."
"It's not enough!" Phil shouted. "There's a whole world out there."
"A world of vampires?" Brynley sneered. "No thanks."
A wave of sleepiness hit Vanda, and she dropped a few feet. She shook it off and levitated once more to the trapdoor.
Phil was explaining how important it was for the Vamps to defeat the Malcontents. "This is huge, Bryn. If the Malcontents win, they could take over the entire world."
"Fine," Brynley snapped. "Help your good Vamps win. But don't marry one of them! This is crazy, Phil. You're a freaking prince, for God's sake."
Prince? Vanda shook her head. She couldn't have heard that right.
"And what about Diana?" Brynley continued. "You were betrothed to her years ago."
Vanda gasped. Her concentration broke and she tumbled to the floor. "Ouch." She winced as she stood up. Her ankle had twisted.
She limped to the blanket. At least the stupid ankle would heal during her death-sleep. She stretched out on the blanket. Prince? Prince Philip? Engaged to Diana? This was Wyoming, not bloody Britain. This couldn't be right.
Death-sleep tugged at her again, stronger and more pervasive. She yawned and closed her eyes. Images flitted through her mind. Phil pinning down Max the Mega Member. Phil leaping off the balcony and landing neatly. Phil fighting the Malcontents and surviving. Moving so fast.
Too fast. She gave up the struggle and succumbed to death-sleep.
Vanda awoke with a jolt. She stared into the darkness, unsure for a few seconds where she was. Oh, right. Phil's cabin in Wyoming. She fumbled beside her and found her whip.
A heavy feeling of dread swept over her, so heavy it took some effort to sit up. The war had started. Robby was captured. Marta had betrayed her once again. Dougal was handicapped for life. And Phil's sister hated her.
She rose to her feet. The ankle had healed. She tied the whip around her waist. It was quiet upstairs. Quiet outside. She levitated to the trapdoor and pushed. It creaked open a few inches.
"Oh, you're up." Phil pulled the door open the rest of the way and smiled at her. "I don't suppose you need the ladder?"
"No." She levitated through the opening in the floor.
He took her hand and pulled her toward him. Her feet landed on the floor, and her arms wrapped around his chest.
"You look like a cowboy." She smoothed a hand over his plaid western shirt.
"Brynley went into town today and bought us some clothes." He kissed her. "Do you want to look like a cowgirl?"
She snorted. "How are you? Are the cuts still hurting you?"
"I'm fine. I got some sleep during the day, while Brynley was here."
Vanda looked around, but the cabin was empty. "Where is she now?"
"She's...taking a hike outside."
"In the dark?"
"It's a full moon. Do you need some breakfast?" He led her toward the ice chest. "Brynley brought us some more ice."
"That's good." Vanda grabbed a bottle of blood from the ice chest. She thought about asking Phil if he was really engaged to some lady named Diana, but she didn't want to admit that she'd been eavesdropping.
She took a long drink. "So what's the latest news?"
He leaned against the kitchen counter, frowning. "They weren't able to finish the tracking device before sunset. So we have no idea where Robby's being held prisoner."
"Oh, God. Poor Robby." She set the bottle down on the counter. She didn't feel like drinking when Robby was probably being tortured. "What will they do to him?"
"Make him go hungry, for starters. I've heard it's very painful."
"It is."
Phil tilted his head, studying her. "Maggie told me you used to go without. You made yourself suffer. Why?"
"I-I don't want to talk about it." Vanda walked across the room. "Is there a bathroom around here?"
"There's an outhouse behind the stable."
She scoffed. "You have a stable but not a bathroom?"
He shrugged. "The stable is empty. And I haven't needed a bathroom. I haven't been here in over four years."
"Why not?"
He gave her a wry look. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, aren't we a secretive pair?"
"Yeah, we are. I think it's time we had a long talk." He motioned to the couch just as his cell phone rang. "Hello?...Yeah, Howard. I'm sure Angus is beside himself. Any progress with the tracking device?"
While Phil talked, Vanda paced about. She really needed to go. Mortals didn't usually understand that, but a vampire only needed the red blood cells to survive. The plasma part of blood became waste, along with any added ingredients like the whiskey in Blissky.
She could find the outhouse on her own. She stepped outside onto a wide front porch. A cool breeze swept past her, making an old wooden rocker sway with a creak.
A small pasture spread out in front of the cabin. The full moon shone down, gilding the grass with a touch of silver. In the distance, a forest of tall trees reached to the clear, starry sky. The air was crisp and cool.
She rounded the cabin and saw the stable. It was almost as big as the cabin. She strode past it and found the outhouse. Just like the old days in Poland. She took a deep breath and did her business as quickly as possible. A roll of toilet paper sat on what looked like the end of an old broom handle.
She left the outhouse and strode past the stable, adjusting the whip around her waist. An eerie howl echoed around her. She gulped. Okay. So there might be a wolf or coyote in the woods. That was normal for Wyoming, right? She hurried around to the front of the cabin.
Was that something moving out of the woods? She inched toward the front porch steps.
Another movement captured her attention. And another. Animals. Perhaps a dozen. They moved from the dark shade of the trees and into the moonlit pasture. She stiffened.
Wolves.
The moonlight gleamed off their silver gray coats. They slowly stalked toward her. Their eyes glinted. Their teeth were bared. A low growl rumbled across the pasture, freezing her with fear.
Light spilled suddenly onto the porch. Phil had opened the door.
"Vanda, come inside," he said quietly.
She willed her feet to move but they remained frozen to the ground. The nightmare was back. She was hunted once more. And the wolves had been sent to kill her.
They inched closer. Her heart stilled. This was it. They would kill her.
"Shit." Phil strode down the porch steps and into the pasture. "Go inside, Vanda."
She jolted out of the fear that had paralyzed her. Oh God, no! Phil would try to protect her just like Karl had. The wolves would kill him.
She ran to him and grasped his arm. "Come with me. Hurry."
He peeled her hand off. "I'll handle this. Trust me. Now go inside." He pushed her gently toward the stairs.
She hurried up the steps. The wolves howled. With a shudder, she turned to watch.
Phil had pulled off his shirt. All the cuts on his torso had healed. How had he managed that? His body began to shimmer.
She gasped. What was he doing?
The wolves charged.
Phil spread his arms wide, threw his head back, and howled.
Vanda stumbled back, knocking against the cabin wall. Light from the open door illuminated Phil. Fur sprouted across his back and shoulders, then spread down his arms. His hands turned into paws with long sharp claws. His head crackled, the jaw elongating into a long snout.
The wolves stopped in their tracks and hunched down to the ground. They were afraid, Vanda realized. But not as terrified as she was.
Phil was a werewolf.
CHAPTER 19
Time came to a screeching halt. Vanda couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. She was plastered against the cabin wall, unable to move.
A werewolf. Her beautiful Phil was a werewolf.
She began to shake. Panic swirled in her gut, then shot through her chest and erupted from her mouth with a strangled cry.
The werewolf turned to her. How many times had she seen those vicious jaws and snapping teeth? Always coming after her. Hunting her relentlessly.
She dashed into the cabin and slammed the door shut. With trembling hands she slid the bolt across the door. She stepped back, her knees shaking. Her gaze darted to the windows. He could crash right through the glass. That's how the wolves had invaded the safe house where she and Karl had taken shelter. The wolves had ripped him apart.
Footsteps pounded up the porch steps. Vanda stepped back. Her heart raced, thundering in her ears.
The doorknob turned. The door shook. She pressed a hand to her mouth as a terrified sob escaped.
"Vanda." His voice was soft. "Let me in."
She moved back. Thoughts jumbled in her head. She'd never heard of a werewolf who could talk. Or turn a doorknob. He had to be human.
But she'd seen him change. Or rather, she'd seen half of him change. He'd definitely had the head of a wolf. And the teeth.
Dammit, how could he do this to her? Rage flooded through her, a welcome relief from the terror that had made her weak.
"Go away!" she screamed.
The door shook again. "We need to talk."
"Go to hell!" Dammit. She'd made love to him. She'd let him inside her body. Inside her heart. A sense of betrayal twisted in her gut. First her sister, and now Phil.
She wanted to throw something. Rip something apart. She spotted the wooden ladder propped against the loft, the same ladder Phil had inserted through the trapdoor to descend into the cellar. She kicked a boot through some wooden rungs, then grasped the ladder in her hands and snapped it in two.
"Vanda."
She spun toward his voice. He'd raised a window and was peering in at her. How dare he look so normal? He'd completely fooled her.
"As your anger management sponsor, I have to say - "
"Leave me alone!" She hurled a splintered piece of wood at him.
He dodged the missile and it flew through the window. He peered inside again. "We're going to talk. There's no escaping it."
No escape? She opened the trapdoor and floated down into the cellar. She paced back and forth. She could teleport away, but where? Her apartment wasn't safe. The Carpathian Mountains were probably in daylight. London might be, too, so that left out Pamela and Cora Lee. She had no idea where Ian and Toni were. Maggie?
Vanda winced. She was still on that hit list. She couldn't put Maggie and her family in danger. But wasn't there a cave on their property? She could hide there. Unfortunately, she'd never been to Maggie's ranch, so she didn't know the way. She needed to call. She needed Phil's cell phone.
"Vanda, come back."
She glanced at the trapdoor. Phil was there.
She scanned the cellar and spotted a shovel. That would keep him away. Keep his paws off her. She grasped the handle.
He jumped. Her heart clenched as she watched. He landed, his cowboy boots hitting the wooden floor with a thud, his knees bending to absorb the shock.
He straightened slowly. The jeans hung low on his hips. His bare torso and chest rippled with muscles. Oh God, how she had loved his hard chest and broad shoulders. There was no trace of the injuries he'd suffered the night before.
His thick brown hair gleamed in the light that filtered down from the open trapdoor. Highlights of gold and auburn glinted. His pale blue eyes watched her, glimmering with strong emotion.
He was so gorgeous. How could he be a werewolf? And how could he be human now? The only time she had seen a wolf change back to human form was when Karl had killed one. As far as she knew, once a werewolf became a wolf, it stayed that way for the entire night. She'd certainly never seen one that could change only half of its body.
She pointed the shovel at him. "What are you?"
His gaze flitted to the shovel, and his mouth thinned. "I'm Phil Jones, the same man I was yesterday." He stepped toward her.
"Stay back!" She raised the shovel. "What are you?"
His chin lifted. "I'm an Alpha werewolf. I can change completely or partially whenever I wish, day or night. I have super strength and speed and heightened sensibilities. If I'm cut, I can change and instantly be healed. I can call on the power of my inner wolf without changing physical form. And one more thing..."
He leaped toward her so quickly, she barely had time to jab the shovel at him. He grasped the handle and yanked, pulling her toward him. In a tug of war, she dug in her heels and pulled the handle back. He yanked even harder, throwing her off balance. When she stumbled forward, he tossed the shovel aside, swung an arm around her and slammed her hard against his chest.
"One more thing," he growled. "I love you."
She shoved at his chest. "Let go of me. You - You lied to me."
"I was going to tell you tonight. Hell, I tried to tell you the other night at Howard's cabin, but when I mentioned wolves, you refused to talk."
She winced. She'd been so intent on keeping her own secrets, she hadn't let Phil tell his. "But you should have told me." She pounded at his chest.
"Why? So you'd have an excuse not to fall in love with me?" He grabbed her hands and pinned them behind her back. "Whatever happened to my love being enough?"
Her eyes burned with tears. "But I hate wolves. I hate shape shifters."
"You love this one."
