Marked by the Moon Read Free

mind’s command. His hot breath cascaded over her arm, her neck, her face. She was helpless. He could do anything that he wanted. She knew it, and her fear whirled around him like a midsummer fog.
    Had this been what Alana felt in the moments before she died? Or hadn’t she had a chance to feel anything before this child had shot her with silver, then watched her burn. A growl rumbled in Julian’s throat.
    The girl tensed and shouted, “Do it!”
    So Julian sank his teeth into her shoulder.
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    Alex refused to scream even though the pain was worse than anything she’d ever known. Multicolored dots danced before her eyes; then the world wavered, shimmered, and disappeared.
    Hours, moments, seconds later, she came awake sputtering. Someone had thrown water into her face.
    The werewolf, now in human form—he’d even gotten dressed—leaned over her, empty plastic bottle crunched in his huge hand. “Soon,” he murmured, “you’ll understand.”
    Her shoulder on fire, she was weak, dizzy, feverish, but she remembered everything, and the horror of it almost made her retch.
    â€œYou bastard!” Alex shouted, pulling at her bonds. “You bit me.”
    â€œYou told me to,” he said.
    â€œI didn’t. I’d never—”
    â€œDid you or did you not shout, ‘Do it!’”
    â€œI meant tear out my throat. Kill me.”
    If a werewolf bit a human, the human become a werewolf. If the ravenous beast ate from its victim, blessed death was the result.
    Her tormentor tilted his head, and his long hair slid across his neck, spreading outward like a golden fan. “You’d rather be dead,” he murmured, “than a werewolf.”
    â€œDamn straight.”
    â€œAnd my wife would rather have been a werewolf than dead.” He shrugged, unconcerned. “I guess you’re even.”
    Frustration and fury welled within her. She yanked on her bonds again, and the cot rattled as she lifted first one side, then the other from the floor. She was already getting stronger.
    â€œLet me go.” He did nothing but laugh. “Why are you doing this?”
    â€œI want you to understand what you’ve done.”
    â€œI killed monsters. Evil, demonic creatures that belonged in hell.”
    â€œYou killed wives and husbands, mothers and fathers, someone’s children. You think we don’t love? You think we don’t mourn?”
    â€œAnimals don’t feel.”
    He grabbed her by the chin again. “You’re wrong.”
    Alex should have a huge bruise from when he’d wolf-handled her before. His touch should hurt, but it didn’t. She was already healing faster than humanly possible.
    He let go of her with a flick of his wrist, as if he couldn’t bear to have his skin in contact with hers for one second longer than necessary—she knew the feeling—and walked away. Alex had to crane her neck to watch him disappear out the door.
    â€œHey!” she shouted, then paused. Would she be better or worse off if he left her behind?
    The question became moot when he reappeared carrying an inert body, which he placed on the floor.
    â€œDon’t worry.” He walked to the door again, drawing it closed behind him. “He’s a very bad man.”
    As soon as he was gone, Alex fought to get loose in earnest.
    He’d bitten her instead of killing her, then tied her down and left her in a room with a helpless human being. She had to pull free and run, then find a silver…anything and kill herself before she changed. Because as soon as she did, she’d need human blood, and there was some right here.
    Her struggles only served to make her sweat. The room had no air-conditioning, no window. She pulled on the restraintsso hard her wrists bled. The scent of blood, of man made her stomach growl.
    Once bitten, a human shifts within twenty-four hours. Traditionally werewolves can only change