The room was huge and bathed in the flickering light of a hundred candles. The fireplace was massive and in it roared a fire fueled by fragrant logs that crackled with the strong fire. Outside, the wind rustled the trees in a strange and alluring melody that floated through the room.
The gown she wore was old, the crimson velvet soft against her skin. She held a silver goblet in her hand, and she tipped it to her lips, the amber liquid fiery as it slid down her throat. It was a fine wine, the taste of which she couldn’t recall ever enjoying before. Cat closed her eyes and breathed in the scent of wood, wine, and man.
She heard him before she felt his familiar hands on her neck. She leaned against him, the strong, lean lines of his body firm against hers. He took the goblet from her hand to set it on a small table. Then his fingers slid beneath the collar of her gown, pushing it away from her body, baring her shoulders in the flickering candlelight. He slid it down her arms, across her hips until it dropped to the ground like a pool of blood at her feet. His fingers trailed from her shoulders, down her breasts, and to the soft skin of her stomach.
Cat drew in her breath at the featherlight touch. She missed him so much, missed the touch and feel of him. She turned and pressed her body against Adam. His long black hair was loose and fell far down his back. In the firelight, his mocha skin glowed, his gaze intent on her face. His hair cascaded through her fingers as she pulled him close and kissed him deep and full on the mouth. His tongue touched hers with a spark that made her shudder. He tasted wonderful.
Adam lowered her to the thick woven rug before the fireplace. It was soft beneath her bare skin. Light danced on his mocha skin and reflected in his dark eyes. His long silky hair tickled her face. She breathed deep, the heady, musky scent of him making her smile. God, how she’d missed him and the touch of his skin to hers.
“I love you,” she whispered against his lips.
A growl sounded low and deep in his throat. The answer of the wolf. Her wolf. She drew him closer to feel the thick, hard length of him against her thigh. Her hand moved between their bodies, and she caressed his cock, the heat increasing as the fire burned and their spirits soared in the dance of pleasure.
His head dropped, and he took one nipple in his mouth. Cat moaned at the sensation of his tongue against her responsive breast. She arched into him, wanting to feel all of him beside her and in her. It seemed like a lifetime ago since she touched him last. The need for him was intoxicating.
Adam’s hand found the warmth between her legs and stroked her with a featherlight touch. She arched against his palm, wanting and needing more. His fingers went deeper, slipping into her, finding her hot and wet. She was ready. She needed him inside of her, now.
As if he had heard her unspoken plea, he abandoned the teasing play with his fingers, and he moved over her, the heat between them almost searing her skin. With one thrust, he was inside her. Cat gasped, her hands going to his buttocks to pull him even closer. He was hard and lean, both man and beast, more exciting than any fantasy she could have ever imagined. And he was hers, now and for eternity.
She moved with him, the fever of passion rolling through her like a tidal wave. Deeper and harder, until they screamed in unison, release coming in a cascade of pleasure that took her breath away. Her heart pounded, and her pulse raced.
“I love you,” she said again, with tears slipping down her hot skin.
He kissed her tears away and looked deep into her eyes. “Never forget that I love you.”
“I don’t understand.” There was something in his face, something she had never seen before. It brought a sliver of fear to her heart.
“Forgive me,” he whispered in her ear, his hot breath on her neck.
Cat screamed when his fangs sank into her neck.
* * * * *
Awareness came back along with the sound of her own screams bouncing off the bedroom walls. She was on her back and staring at a ceiling that slowly swam into focus. Falco stood over her prone body licking her face and whining. Molly, old and arthritic, had even climbed the stairs and now stood at the bedroom door to stare at her with round black eyes full of concern. The whole room seemed to vibrate around her.
Cat let the tiny braid drop from fingers as if it burned into the soft skin of her hand. She had been frightened when Dambray Gardner called her from Maine to tell her Adam had disappeared. She had been bothered even more by the appearance of the Bell trio at her front door. Now she was scared shitless. This is bad. This is very, very bad.
She pushed up to a sitting position. Falco nudged her arm until she put it around his neck. She breathed in deep, loving the way he smelled of grass, wildflowers, and dog. It never failed to comfort her. Molly, her old legs failing her a little more with every passing day, sank to the carpet in the doorway, her worried eyes on Cat and Falco.
The few moments she had of quiet solitude were gone. Her life as a hunter was going into overtime. Once more, she would hunt an evil as old the planet and so dangerous no book or movie could do it justice. She’d lost Michael to that evil -- her beautiful, sweet Michael -- and because of that, her life was forever changed. Now that evil threatened another of her heart, and that would never do. Not again, not ever again.
She pressed her face against Falco’s furry one, his breath hot on her cheek. “Here we go again, buddy.”
The rumble low in her stomach pushed her up and off the floor. Something dark and dangerous was rising somewhere in the world. It started as it always did for her, with feelings and visions roaring through her. Some would live, and some would die. That was the nature of her business. The one thing that set this hunt apart from any of the dozen others she had been on through the years was simple: Adam.
Sheri Lewis Wohl