Dani Harper - First Bite

Meredith had power, and she liked it. Not only did she plan to keep it, she was growing it by the day. Or rather, by the month. The latest inductees to her pack were due to turn when the full moon reached its zenith this night. And as their sire, the one who had bitten them and shared with them the wolfen gift, she could draw energy from them, enough to fuel not only her dark spells but also her darker ambitions. Most of her pack members were mere thralls, toys and tools to be used up and discarded as Meredith saw fit. She stroked the exquisite pendant that hung between her breasts. The dark opal, set in silver, was the size of a raven’s egg, and fire flashed in its depths; as long as she wore it, she owned nearly all of the wolves she’d created, mind, body, and soul.

Geneva had been among the few who were not so easily entranced, and to make matters worse, the stupid little bitch had the nerve to escape . Meredith had been sick with fury when she’d discovered it. She’d killed the guards, of course, then turned her rage on whoever was handy until the anger gave way to the grief it really was. Not for Geneva herself, certainly, or for any other person. No, Meredith mourned her greatest and most powerful spell. After years of research, of trial and error, pain and blood, it was her very best creation, her Sistine Chapel, her Mona Lisa —

And it had been totally reliant on a quality that only Geneva Rayne Ross possessed. Without her, it simply could not be employed. Ever. Meredith had first sent out most of the pack to recapture the little brat—or to recover the body. Meanwhile, she secretly went to one of her underground spell rooms and wept with frustration and disappointment until she had no tears left and no more things to break. Finally she found her equilibrium.

So Geneva had escaped. So what? Let her try to manage a first Change all by her little lonesome. She’ll die, and I won’t have to kill her. Perfect.

And if the bitch didn’t die? Geneva couldn’t hide forever, and once she was found, she would learn to do what she was told, at least long enough to serve Meredith’s ends. And after that? If you can’t be a good example, then you’ll just have to be a terrible warning.

“Make yourselves useful and take that away.” She waved her fingers airily at the corpse. The three men hastened to comply, giving the patterns on the floor a wide berth. Two seized the dead man and headed for the door. Meredith smirked and pointed an exquisitely manicured fingernail at the odd man out.

“You. Stay here.”

Never having had a passenger on the bike before, Travis had to admit there was something very appealing about having a woman pressed up against his back. And as he opened up the throttle on the highway, he felt Neva lay her head against him. Although he was certain it was just to shield herself from the wind, he still felt an unexpected surge of protectiveness toward her. But his wolf didn’t have to be so damn smug about it.

That lupine smugness disappeared as the highway signs flew past them, and Neva began to sag. Her grip on his jacket loosened alarmingly, and for the last eighty miles, he drove one-handed in favor of holding her good arm tightly to him, willing her to stay upright.

While he would never have chosen cheap accommodations—his human side liked things clean and comfortable—he would have preferred something smaller and more out of the way. However, any port in a storm, and the Rocking Horse Casino was right on the highway and boasted an enormous hotel. He coasted into a quiet side lot with no small amount of relief. And in the heartbeat between bringing the bike to a stop and leaping off it, Travis used every ounce of his Changeling speed to catch Neva before she tumbled to the pavement.

Now what? Dressed like she was, she might attract attention if he took her along to the front desk with him. And her exhausted state might be interpreted as something else—drunk off her feet, at the very least. Worse, someone could easily suspect she was a victim of a date-rape drug and call in the cops. No, Officer, everything’s fine, she’s just going to turn into a wolf soon. Yeah, right.

There were no windows on this side of the building, and the one and only car parked here looked like it belonged to staff. He laid Neva carefully on a curved garden bench sheltered by tall, yellow rhododendrons, and tucked the heavy coat around her. “Stay here,” he said, although it was unlikely she could hear him.

When he returned with the key card for a room, she hadn’t moved a hair and was, in fact, snoring heartily. His mouth quirked when he picked her up and the snores failed to subside. Exhausted, he thought, and was glad he’d decided to stop to let her sleep for a while. She was going to need all her strength for later, when the moon was high.

Travis chose the side entrance to the stairs, where he was unlikely to encounter very many people. Humans preferred elevators as a general rule. He’d reached the third floor before Neva stirred.

“Put me down,” she muttered without opening her eyes.

“In a minute.” He found the room. Balancing Neva in his arms, he fumbled with the key card and cursed loudly as the lock rejected it twice. An old woman with enormous glasses poked her head out of a suite down the hall. He forced a smile for her benefit. “Newlyweds,” he said and was relieved when the woman giggled knowingly, shook her finger at him, and withdrew. On the third swipe of the card, the door opened and he carried Neva inside.

“I don’t feel good,” was all she said as he stripped the leather duster off her and tucked her in one of the queen-size beds.

She looked colorless, even against the white sheets—until she opened her eyes. He could clearly see the green fire in their golden-brown depths, and he knew she didn’t have much time. It was only about an hour till the full moon rose, and once it reached its highest point in the sky, Neva would shift form for the very first time and fully become what Travis had always been, or she would die trying. He shoved that thought away at once.

“Where the hell is your sire?” he burst out. “He should be helping you with this.”

Neva snorted. “My sire ? You make it sound like I’m a pedigreed dog. If you mean the monster that bit me, I’m several states away from her.” She blinked. “At least I hope so. Where exactly are we?”

Travis was too busy digesting the previous sentence to answer her question. “Are you saying the gift was forced on you?”

“What gift?”

“Well, the wolf , of course.”

She stared at him for several seconds. “A gift…What kind of a goddamn gift is this ?” Neva struggled to sit up, fury in every feature. “Here, I’ll make you into a creature from hell, and then you can show your thanks by murdering innocent people. Oh, and you can start with your family. You won’t be needing them anymore.”

Travis held up both hands. “Whoa there, you’ve been watching way too many bad movies. Changelings aren’t like that at all.”

“ Werewolves are exactly like that. Don’t try to snow me.”

“I’m not a werewolf and neither are you,” he said. “That Hollywood stuff is bunk. It pisses me off that they always show the gift as a curse. Some poor schmuck turns into a ravening animal when the moon’s full, and can’t remember what he did when he wakes up the next day…” Two and two belatedly made four in his head. “Is that what the cliff jumping was all about? You’re not depressed. You think you’re going to be some kind of monster, so you’ve decided to do away with yourself.”