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  She huffed and leaned back against the wall, rubbing roughly at her stomach. “That was the strangest thing. I felt someone here, sensed him, right before he yanked open the shower curtain. I’m not all that sensitive to magic but I felt his presence. Then I smelled the blood magic. It wasn’t strong but it was there. I was using jasmine soap and I could smell that stink over the jasmine right before he grabbed at the curtain and started babbling about a puzzle box. Scared the crap out of me. Then I saw the knife. It was glowing, as if it were red hot. But as soon as I started flinging stuff, I got him with the…ah…I got him in the chest. Anyway, as soon as he was hit, the knife disappeared. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Knife must have been spelled.” Trent nodded. “Probably the human too.”

  Nell pulled herself away from the wall. “So, you don’t think I killed him on purpose?”

  “Why should I? Looks like you defended yourself.” Trent glanced around the room again, using his keen sense of smell. “It was an elaborate attack, Nell. You know any reason a master Sorcerer would use blood magic against you?”

  Her bright eyes widened. “Master?”

  “Smells that way to me.” Trent could still catch hints of the magic. “Only a master could weave a spell strong enough to influence a human yet leave so small a trace.” He paced the cavernous room briefly then stopped, facing Nell again. “What about the puzzle box? Any clue what that meant?”

  He realized Nell wasn’t listening to him any longer. She was looking down at the blood on her legs and arms, trying to rub it off. The mostly dried blood seemed to be causing a reaction, attacking her skin. He watched, stunned, as the clinging streaks seemed to become animated, looking as if they were writhing on her body. Rubbing harder only managed to smear them.

  Nell’s skin was starting to pinken from the rubbing as her efforts became more frantic, her scrubbing fingers moving from her arms to her legs and back.

  A look of panic took over her delicate features. Her complexion darkened and her eyes took on a golden glow. The parts of her skin not covered in blood started to shimmer, giving him a peek at her Demon. The last thing he needed was a Halfling taking on Demon form unintentionally.

  Trent had heard of complicated spells that could taint blood, but he’d never seen one in action. He was mesmerized by her partial change as her Demon started to surface. What looked like a Dragon—angry and pained—appeared as a mere shadow under her skin. As a Werewolf, he understood a body’s physical change, but she was becoming golden from within. It was very different from the bone-crunching shift he underwent, much more fluid, graceful.

  Trent shook himself inwardly. Seeing her stronger Demon side stirred even deeper desires he’d hidden away.

  “Bring her downstairs!” Sonja screeched as she realized what was happening. “The blood’s spelled. Prime, help her!”

  The use of his title and the pleading in Sonja’s tone snapped Trent out of his thoughts and he scooped up the now fully panicked Halfling.

  “Get it off! Hell’s fire, get it off!” Tears trailed down Nell’s cheeks as she clawed at her own skin. She was in real pain—and he was standing there without a clue how to help.

  Her shirt had ridden up so Trent got a good view of her exposed mound. He cursed himself for looking while she was in such distress. Sonja pushed him toward the door. Forward movement. That he could do. He concentrated on the stairs to keep his mind where it belonged. “Easy, girl. It’s okay.” The words were a piss-poor attempt at comfort, but comfort wasn’t his forte. He was a Prime, a Werewolf and a triggerman, not a nurturer.

  At the bottom of the stairs, Sonja pushed past him. “There’s a pond in the garden. I need to get some stuff from the kitchen. Put her in the water. It’ll soothe her some. Do not take her out of that water until I get there.”

  He glanced back upstairs, toward the shower. It had water, was closer and seemed easier than the pond.

  Sonja read his mind. “No. It has to be the pond. It’s blessed and natural. Do you understand?”

  Trent nodded and carried a squirming Nell down a short hall, through the kitchen and out the back door of the cabin.

  The deck in the back opened out onto a large kitchen garden. Metal lanterns with white candles magically lit themselves in response to his presence as he hurried down the only path away from the house. He rounded a bend and saw the pond. As he approached, more candles lit. Their reflections sparkled across the still, black water. The effect mirrored the stars in the clear night. The first-quarter moon was high. He felt it pull at his wolf as he sniffed for any surrounding danger.

  Trent didn’t hesitate at the pond’s edge. He walked into the water, holding her like a groom would carry his bride. He did his level best to hold Nell steady even as she continued to claw at her legs. Angry red marks were starting to appear on her thighs. When he got deep enough that buoyancy held much of her weight, he captured her wrists with one hand and braced her body against his with the other.

  “Shhhh. Nell. Look at me.” He watched as she turned her tear-soaked face toward him. The anguish there touched him deeper than he wanted to examine at the moment. He rocked her gently until she finally quit squirming. Letting go of her hands, he pushed her hair out of her face. “You’ll hurt yourself, little one.” She was still whimpering, almost weightless against him, calmer but still trembling in his arms. He splashed water over her thighs and rubbed over the reddened skin with a light touch. The tainted blood, unaffected by the cleansing water, was raised like an old scar on her soft skin. He rubbed a little harder.

  “It won’t come off without a healing spell. Dark magic, tainted blood, it’s like acid.” She sniffed and wiped her face with the heel of her palm. “If I’d worried about the blood instead of the tile and washed it right away…”

  “Is this permanent?” he asked, hoping not. It was all over her thighs, arms and that beautiful face. He hated the thought of all her golden skin marred by scars. He continued to rub her thigh gently.

  “Mi-ma will call our friend Clara. She’s not a master but she’s a powerful coven leader.” She rested her head on his shoulder.

  This was the actual attack. He knew it in his bones. “Nell, do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt you like this?”

  “I’d never seen the guy before.”

  He readjusted her in the water, making sure her arms were still submerged. Even under the water he could feel the heat coming off her skin. “I mean the blood. I think the human was a setup. He was sacrificed. He was meant to be injured by your…gift.”

  Nell wrinkled her brow at him and came very close to a smile. “You mean the mayhem I cause when I use my Demon skills?”

  “I think the tainted blood was the real attack. You could have defended yourself easily against a human, even with your limited control. Someone wanted to send you a message or hurt you, Nell. Is there anyone from your past, your travels, who would want to scar you like this?” He nodded to her thighs. Her shirt was almost up to her breasts and he realized not only were her legs and arms marked by the tainted blood, but so was her stomach. They had timed it just right, attacking her in the shower.

  “If the Witch can’t cleanse the blood, the scars and the burning will be with me forever,” Nell responded. Without modesty, she ran her hand over her stomach.

  Trent tried to think of the master Sorcerers he knew in the area. The list wasn’t long, there weren’t too many of them out there. He’d need to call in a few favors, find out if there were any new masters in the area recently. Master Sorcerers were incredibly powerful and easily tempted to use blood magic to boost their influence.

  He pulled her a little tighter against his chest. She was irritatingly half-Demon, but she still felt like all woman against him. A beautiful woman, one he’d hoped never to see in pain again…

  Trent had hurt her. Years ago. He’d pushed her away. They’d still been kids, really, and he’d done it publically, embarrassing her with his rejection. For years he’d
regretted it. But it was the way things had to be. She was an energetic, vibrant woman. A mate like Nell would push him past his limit. After all, he was his father’s son. And Trent had no intention of following in his father’s obsessive, abusive paw prints. A night or two was all he could ever offer Nell. That was it. She deserved better. It was true way back then and it was true now.

  He hardened his resolve and reminded his aching cock of his pledge. The darn thing was not listening. He felt it, hot and hard, straining against wet denim as he stood in the cool water. He searched his memories for something to get his mind off her body.

  “So, you really lived in a Vampire nest in Paris?”

  She arched a wet, weary eyebrow at him. “For a while.”

  “Are they as wild as we hear?” He cursed himself for the direction he’d unintentionally taken the conversation. Some of the Vamp nests were little more than bordellos for any and all paranormal beings who showed up. Places where all sorts of cravings were catered to, with few limits or taboos. The one Nell had joined was more of a spiritual commune. He had checked. Oh, he was sure there was lots of sex, but that wasn’t the basis of that particular nest.

  She shifted in the water. The movement brushed her breast against his arm. A soft moan escaped her lips. “They can be. I lived with a tamer group but all Vampires have deep, needful appetites.”

  He smiled down at her. “That where you started your collection?”

  She shook her head and gave him a teasing smile, then gritted her teeth and gripped his forearm. “Nope. That started long before. Mi-ma bought my first one, years ago, after my ego was crushed by some arrogant Werewolf who left me with a broken heart and raging hormones.”

  He laughed aloud. How could she say that with a straight face? “You stretch the truth, I think.”

  “My kitten never tells tales, young man. Being Prime has gone to your head,” Mi-ma declared loudly from behind them as she marched toward the edge of the pond.

  Hot, Hard & Howling

  Chapter Two

  Trent stopped laughing. Two people had come upon the pond, as well as Sonja, and he had been so distracted by Nell and her toy collection that he hadn’t heard or smelled their approach.

  He looked at the old lady he had known all his life. She was one of the few left in town who’d known his mother and how she’d died. The round, old Demon was a bit addled, in his opinion. Her tightly curled salt-and-pepper hair looked as though she never brushed it. She also walked with a limp and the story she told when they were kids was that she’d tangled with a lion in her day. Trent still felt like a child in Mi-ma’s presence.

  “Yes, I started her collection. You can never have too many toys.” She hesitated and looked back over her shoulder to the woman behind her. “Or men, for that matter.” The woman laughed and Mi-ma turned back to the pair in the water. “I got her one just last year. A toy, that is. It was an onyx phallus from the vault of Nefertiti herself. Quite a valuable piece. I believe the carving is most lifelike.” She removed and dropped the scarf from around her neck. “Her father brought her one back from South America that would put to shame a big, strong Werewolf like you.”

  With that, Trent felt his cheeks color, hearing such blatant talk from the woman who’d helped him with math homework as a child.

  He didn’t recognize the scrawny Vamp who was giggling just behind Mi-ma. Sonja was biting her lip to keep quiet. He even felt Nell tremble with laughter in his arms. Trent couldn’t stop himself from letting a small chuckle go at his own expense. This night was just plain weird and as a Prime, an agent for the Council that regulates the supernatural world, that was really saying something. These women were all nuts.

  An older woman Trent knew as the local coven leader joined the crew on the edge of the pond. She didn’t speak as she opened a satchel and started spreading out the tools of her craft. Mi-ma made her way into the water without a care to her clothes. She tsked and tenderly cupped Nell’s cheek.

  All the humor in her eyes was gone as she studied her granddaughter. “Be strong, my brave girl. Does it pain you much?” Trent was moved by the loving way she touched Nell. “Has his touch soothed?”

  “It’s not so bad, Mi, the Prime has actually taken good care of his charge.” He listened to the women talk as though he would have done differently. Did the Demons think him so cold that he wouldn’t help ease her pain the best he could?

  The old woman tapped his chin with the same hand that had touched Nell’s face. “He’ll do. He’ll do just fine.”

  He looked back to Nell but she had closed her eyes. He didn’t like feeling confused and Mi-ma always had that effect on him, often speaking in unconnected bursts, blurting out odd premonitions. He looked to the Witch who was still kneeling and hunched over her work on the bank. “Can you stop the scarring?”

  “Yes, but wolf, the greatest help will come from you, if you’re willing.” She straightened from her task and made steady eye contact with him.

  “Me? What can I do?”

  Mi-ma chuckled. “She needs some strong, clean blood to cleanse the taint, wolf. Ours is too close to hers. Even Clara,” she gestured to the Witch with a splash, “is too closely related to offer a strong cleansing. Yours is the strongest blood here, will do the most good to heal those blisters. But I brought our neighbor, David, to do it if you’re not willing to give up the blood of the wolf.”

  Trent looked at the stringy Vamp hovering in the background. His wolf growled inside his head. There was no way Nell was taking any blood from that, but exchanging blood was a very serious thing to the pack.

  He hesitated. Nell’s body relaxed in his arms; she was losing her fight to stay conscious.

  He’d known this woman since she was a child and, even though he couldn’t have a relationship with her, he’d give her what he could, his essence, his life force. He just hoped he could resist her once she carried his scent.

  “Relax, wolf-boy,” Sonja said. “Most of it will be on her. She only has to take a little inside. We know what blood exchange means to you.”

  Nell squirmed, struggled to open her eyes. “Don’t manipulate him like that, Sonja. I can take it from David. Just get on with it.”

  David moved forward. Trent growled. His body, his wolf, was roaring at him to keep the Vamp away from the woman in his arms. He took a step back with her.

  Mi-ma turned, heading toward the edge of the pond. “Just as I thought. Are you ready, Clara?” The Witch nodded, attention already back on her task of mixing who knows what in a copper bowl. Mi-ma lowered her voice. “Trenton. Bring her to the bank of the pond.”

  Trent huffed. He was acting as though Nell were his mate. It was just because Nell was being threatened. He didn’t like it at all, any of it. She might only need a little of his blood, but it only took a little for his wolf or any others from his pack to recognize the mark. He forced his legs to move. Nell hissed as her arms left the water. He bent his knees to keep her under the cool liquid as long as possible as he moved forward.

  He placed her in the circle the Witch had drawn and blessed to the goddesses. Trent stayed by her side, watching helplessly as she writhed, her nails digging into her own skin.

  “Can you hurry?” Nell whimpered.

  The Witch started up her chant and held out her hand. Palm up, Trent placed his hand in hers. Trent didn’t flinch as the Witch cut a small slice in the meaty part of his palm. Nell was getting pale, her face tight with a pain much deeper than his. The chanting rose to a high, fevered rhythm as Mi-ma and Sonja joined in. Clara tilted his palm, letting blood drip into the copper bowl with the herbs. She took Nell’s sweating hand, pried her tight fist open and placed a small cut on her palm as well, letting only two drops fall into the bowl. He expected the potion to hiss or boil, but only a stale bloody smell wafted in the still night.

  Clara cut off Nell’s shirt, leaving her naked and shaking. Gently, she worked the potion into the worst of the red streaks, which had started to look like fresh burns. She
started at Nell’s shoulders, moving tenderly down each arm, chanting softly as she stroked. Her hands kept a steady motion of slow circles that mimicked the cadence of the chant as she covered Nell’s breasts and then her stomach, over the hips and finally down her legs to her feet. Nell continued to squirm in pain as Clara finished her journey over her body.

  Trent was worried that it hadn’t worked. “Was my blood not strong enough?”

  “Patience, boy,” Clara said, and pulled Nell into a sitting position, resting her against Trent’s side. The Witch held the bowl to Nell’s lips, pushed her thumb into Nell’s mouth to get her to open her lips and tilted the bowl. Nell sputtered then took a sip. Once she got a little into her mouth, she leaned into the bowl, trying eagerly to take more. The bigger gulp gagged her, making her jerk away, spitting. Then her eyes rolled back, her head fell forward and her entire little body shivered violently before finally falling still. Trent wrapped his arms around her.

  “Trent.” Sonja’s voice pulled barely his attention away from Nell. “Can you get her back to her bedroom?”

  He nodded and picked up the limp body of the woman he had always thought of as impossibly alive. The sight of her unconscious made him feel things he knew he would always have to deny. The scent of his blood mingling with hers had his wolf moaning in agony at her lifeless state. He ground his teeth and took a steadying breath. He would feel better after they cleaned her up and he got some distance away. But now, at this moment, his wolf wanted her, her blood, her body, and it wanted to mate. He had all but performed the mating ritual by offering his blood. The circumstances were different from a traditional mating ceremony, but his wolf didn’t know that. The wolf knew there was a naked female it desired in Trent’s arms, and the wolf wanted to take her, bind her.

  Trent fought his natural urges as he ascended the stairs. He would never mate. That would be a disaster. His obsessive, jealous nature was too strong to deal with her outgoing personality. History would repeat itself and he could never let that happen. He could never destroy this woman the way his father had destroyed his mother. It was best to get away from here, away from her.