Wolf Slayer. Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

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       Chapter 3

      The werewolf in front of her was huge, muscled, and faster than anything Tess had ever seen. The adrenaline punch that hit her when she looked into his eyes was a stunning blow to her confidence.

      His eyes were blue and way too human.

      Those eyes were intelligent and intense.

      And the face...the werewolf’s face...was disturbingly human, as well.

      He had angular features and no sign of anything that even hinted at a wolfish outline. No five o’clock shadow, let alone the typical werewolf’s layering of fine hairs and elongated bone structure. This guy actually was different. He was resetting the stats on everything she had known about werewolves. Meeting him, seeing him like this, sent the damn rulebook spinning.

      Why had he turned the knife on himself? One thrust of the blade and he’d be toast. One plunge into that broad, naked chest with the sharp end of her silver dagger, and she would come out the victor.

      That’s what she had to do. That’s what she had been trained to do. Raised to do. Taught to do. Remember... Too many hesitations and death will be the result.

      Then why didn’t she edge that knife deeper into the wolf’s flesh? And why wasn’t he tearing her apart? He made no move to hurt her. The damn werewolf was waiting for something. She thought she saw a flash of curiosity in his eyes.

      “Who are you? What are you?” she asked after a long overdue breath.

      Because of their closeness, the next growl that rumbled from the Were’s throat also rumbled through her. Tess kept a tight hold on the hilt of the knife. Her bow, along with the arrow, lay on the ground where he had tossed them, and far from reach, but they wouldn’t have helped in this awkward situation anyway.

      Push the damn blade.

      He’s not human.

      None of them are human. They ate my parents and made me a freak.

      The wolf’s response to her question was to inch closer. A trickle of blood began to seep through the small hole where the blade pierced his flesh, and yet he didn’t blink.

      What was he doing, though? Did he want to die, or was this merely a tactic to confuse her?

      Well, damn it, she was confused, and had to either get her mojo back or suffer the consequences in the next few seconds.

      One of you killed my family...

      Nevertheless, whatever he was trying to do with this odd turnaround stayed her hand. After several more seconds of alarming eye contact and a lot of pulse acceleration, Tess stepped back with her heart beating way too fast and the bloody knife clutched in her hand. A brand-new kind of fear was setting in. She had never come up against anything remotely like this Were.

      “If you think this changes anything, you’re wrong,” she said. “We’re on opposite sides of the game, and in any game, there can only be one winner.”

      She watched the alarmingly large Were shake his head as if he understood what she had said, as well as the promise in it. True to his word though, he didn’t make any move to harm her. This close to him, she couldn’t see his claws or imagine what he might gain by holding back on his end.

      So she waited for his next move, already planning hers. She’d duck to the side, come up to his right and use the knife. She wouldn’t be facing him then, wouldn’t have to look into those sympathetic blue eyes.

      Yes, that’s what she had seen in them after the flash of curiosity. Sympathy.

      “Who the hell do you think you are?” she demanded in a voice that didn’t sound as strong or as confident as she meant it to be. “One of us has to do the honors. If that’s you, so be it. If it’s me, all the better. That’s how this works.”

      When he failed to respond, Tess’s gaze went to the blood dappling his broad chest. Red blood. Half men, half beasts had red blood like the humans they emulated.

      She continued to eye the tiny hole in the Were’s chest until he began to back away. Given some distance, Tess’s nerves fired up, white-hot. Her arms began to quake with the need to do something—show him who she was and what she could do. She’d just had an intimate tryst with death and was still standing.

      The Were was a good three feet away now and facing her. Tess’s first real look at the whole package he presented, head to foot, was another nerve-jangling revelation.

      In this incarnation, the Were actually did seem more man than beast. Well over six feet of undulating muscle and sinew made it appear that he was moving when he wasn’t.

      He had chiseled cheekbones, sun-streaked brown hair and blue eyes. If there had been an image of the perfect specimen of a man-wolf in that wolf hunter rulebook, this guy could have been the model. The real deal. The epitome of an evolved enemy.

      She was looking at a Lycan. Tess knew this now. This guy was a pure-blooded example of the species. Her first.

      No longer able to manage the internal quakes shaking her, Tess widened her stance. Her pulse was skyrocketing. Her fingers were bloodless from her grip on the knife. Confusion caused this delayed reaction, she told herself. She needed to lunge.

      Do it now.

      End this.

      “If you go now, I will find you,” she vowed. Encouraged by the strength in her tone, Tess added, “Why prolong the inevitable? Tonight has to be the night. We both know this. Wolf and wolf hunter is the way this goes down. Werewolf and hunter.”

      The wolf blinked his big eyes and then he shook his head. Within seconds, his body was against hers and she was wedged between his considerable bulk and the shadow-covered rock face behind her.

      It was over. She had lost with supernaturally unlucky werewolf number thirteen. It was inevitable that this minute would come someday.

      Tess closed her eyes.

      Without sight, all of her other senses became acute, serving to enlarge every small detail of these last few seconds she had left. Her opponent’s breath was heated and slightly sweet. With the Were’s chest tight up against hers, she felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the way his muscles twitched. Was he eager to win? Holding back for what? The hope that she might plead for her life?

      Never...

      With the weight of his body squeezing hers into submission, Tess discovered how close to humans Weres could feel physically. All of the masculine stuff was there, in spades. With her eyes closed, СКАЧАТЬ