Crave the Moon Page 25

  “I won’t,” she insisted. “Not him.”

  Now the Nahual really laughed. “You think you’ll care? He’s meat. Running meat if he wakes up.” The brow that had begun to recede creased. “I probably shouldn’t have knocked him out. It’s better when they run.”

  “I love him,” Gina said. She’d meant for the words to come out strong and sure; instead her voice wavered.

  “Love means nothing to a monster.”

  The thing that lived in Jase’s body threw back his head and howled.

  “Teo!” Gina screamed. “Wake up!”

  The Nahual released her. Kind of hard to hold on to someone’s arm when your hands are paws.

  He dropped to the ground on all fours as dark hair sprouted from every pore. Fingers and toes became claws; his nose and mouth melded into snout. The crinkling and crackling, the popping of bones sharp as firecrackers in the still, silver air.

  Gina was unable to do anything but watch. Why run? This beast would catch her, and she wasn’t going to leave Teo alone and unconscious.

  No matter what the Nahual said, she had to hold on to the belief that her love would survive the coming change. That belief, that love, might be all she had left of herself.

  Man had nearly become beast, except for the tail, which unfurled last, like a treacherous snake from the glistening black wolf that had once resembled Jase McCord.

  Gina shrieked as the creature’s fangs sank into her thigh. It shouldn’t hurt that much. She’d been bitten by horses. They had a helluva lot bigger teeth. However, the werewolf’s seemed red-poker hot; she imagined poison rushing through her veins already.

  He withdrew, resting on his haunches to watch, mouth open, tongue lolling, as if grinning. Gina wanted to kick the beast in the head, but she couldn’t lift a finger, let alone her leg. Everything was so heavy.

  She fell to the ground like a sack of bones. The sky above was a kaleidoscope of stars, so much brighter than they should be. The moon called; she craved its sheen. The silvery light soothed her burning skin.

  Her teeth itched. She managed to drag her hand up to touch them. They were definitely longer, sharper; as she lowered her arm, she caught sight of her nails. They were longer and sharper, too.

  Suddenly this world disappeared, and she was running through a forest of trees not common anywhere near here, thick and cool, with a carpet of moss beneath her paws. She chased something big and tasty, something that smelled like …

  Ted.

  Gina jerked free of the … What the hell had that been?

  A delusion? A hallucination? Perhaps a fever dream? Because right now her skin was so on fire she thought she might explode.

  It had certainly not been a memory. No matter how much it might have felt like one.

  And who the hell was Ted?

  Her senses heightened. She heard the dirt sifting beneath her as she moved, smelled her own blood on the breath of the Nahual that continued to watch, eyes so bright they hurt her head.

  Gina looked away and became distracted by hair the shade of mahogany, which had sprouted all the way up her arm.

  Slam.

  She left her body again. This time she flew across familiar terrain, past the crooked tree and the place where her parents had died. Ahead two blond girls giggled and sang as they walked toward a tent.

  Her body was a wolf’s, yet she was smoke. She called out, a howl of triumph and hunger, then swooped low and carried one of the girls off. The shrieks of the other were music to Gina’s invisible ears.

  And the blood. The texture, the scent, the flavor—glorious. It had been so damn long.

  The smoke that was also a wolf lifted his head and howled to the moon, the sound echoing across the plain. He was weak; he needed sustenance to fuel both his body and his magic. The creature swirled lower, gaze touching on a boy, an old woman, an old man.

  Duck. Duck. Goose.

  Gina crashed into her own body once more, the memories of the Nahual when he had taken first Ashleigh and then Mel alight, and very real, in her mind.

  Her spine arched, bones reshaping, realigning. She didn’t fight; instead she gave in to the change. She welcomed it; she’d begun to crave it as she craved the moon. Those thoughts that had been like memories had brought an understanding of what the Nahual had meant.

  Monsters don’t love; they lust—for the kill, the blood, and that blessed, silver moon. Beneath it they became something nearly indestructible. Once Gina was a wolf very little could hurt her. If someone tried to take away her ranch, she’d eat them.

  Problem solved.

  She sniffed at the air, recognized the scent—oranges and sunlight—and her stomach contracted with need. There was still enough of her left to fight that need, but that part was shrinking fast. Once she was a wolf, all she would care about was the blood.

  “Gina?”

  Gina lifted her head. Her eyes met Teo’s, and the voice that came from her moving, changing mouth hovered between woman and wolf.

  “Run.”

  * * *

  The Nahual made a hacking, snorting, wheezing noise that sounded like laughter—or as close to laughter as a wolf could get. Matt didn’t wait around to see what was so funny; he already knew. The Nahual was riding McCord’s brain, and Matt had no doubt McCord would find it hysterical when Gina killed him.

  He wasn’t going to get away. A human couldn’t outrun a regular wolf, let alone a werewolf, and Matt wasn’t at his best. His head felt like it might crack open and spill agony down the front of his face.

  But Matt ran anyway. He couldn’t help himself.

  The moon shone like a beacon, lighting his way, revealing the dips and rolls of the rocky ground. He began to duck behind one rock, then scoot to another. Staying out of sight might keep him alive a few seconds longer, though he was certain Gina could follow his scent without too much trouble.

  He had little memory of how he’d gotten here, which meant he had no idea how to get back to the ranch. Not that he’d ever make it that far.

  No, he was stuck here to face—

  A triumphant howl lifted to the moon.

  Her.

  Would Gina remember him if he spoke of his love? Of hers? He doubted it. When she’d lifted her face, when she’d told him to run, that had been the last bit of Gina left.

  A low, rumbling growl rippled across the night, bringing to mind a stalking lion instead of a wolf. The click of claws against half-buried rocks announced her arrival an instant before a shaggy reddish-brown head appeared around the edge of the stone formation to Matt’s left.

  “Gina,” he began, but further words stuck in his throat. He couldn’t speak of love when her eyes followed him as if he were a choice piece of steak.

  Her mouth open in a canine grin, she stalked him. As a cloud danced over the moon, throwing that horrible human Gina gaze into shadow, she reminded him of a dog ready to play fetch a bone.

  Then the cloud went away, and that gaze very clearly said the bone was him.

  Matt had planned to face his death like a big boy, stare Gina straight in the eye; maybe that would reach her. But while the eyes were hers, the being behind them was not, and so he decided …

  There was something to be said for turning away.

  He spun around just as a tall, dark figure stepped from behind the nearest rock. Matt was so dumbfounded, he just stood there, staring into the barrel of a gun.

  CHAPTER 25

  “Get down!”

  Considering the gun in Matt’s face, that sounded like a good idea. But as he hit the deck he realized what the newcomer intended, and Matt’s arm shot up, smacking the barrel of the rifle skyward before it could blow off Gina’s head.

  “Dummer Arsch,” the man muttered, in a voice Matt recognized. “What have you done?”

  Matt glanced over his shoulder in time to see Gina’s tail disappear into the gloom. “You can’t kill her!”

  “I assure you, my boy, that I can.” Edward Mandenauer stepped over Matt and w
ent in pursuit.

  Matt scrambled to his feet and followed. He caught up just in time to see Mandenauer take aim again, but Matt was too far away to stop him.

  The gun went off. No yelp. No flames. But the silvery light of the moon began to turn gold, and the sky went from midnight to dawn.

  “Did you see that?” Mandenauer murmured. “I shot that Arschloch right between the eyes, and it turned to smoke and disappeared. I hate it when that happens.”

  “That happens to you a lot?”

  “You have no idea.” Mandenauer peered at the moon, which now seemed a lot like the sun.

  His hair had once been blond but had faded nearly to white. His blue eyes had faded, too, though their expression remained sharp. Edward was tall and achingly thin, but he didn’t stoop and he must still be fairly strong to be able to cart around the load of guns and ammo positioned at various points on his body.

  Mandenauer turned his gaze to Matt. “Mecate?”

  Matt nodded. “How did you find me?”

  “Your cell phone.”

  “Doesn’t work.”

  “I discovered that when I tried to call. However, I was still able to track it by satellite.”

  That seemed beyond the capabilities of NASA, let alone an ancient German man who liked guns. But Edward was here. How else could the man have found him?

  “What went on here?”

  “The Arschloch…” Matt paused. “What does that mean?” Matt was thinking maybe “brave one” or “strong beast,” even “wolf-man.”

  “Asshole.” Mandenauer sniffed.

  Matt decided not to ask what Dummer Arsch meant. He could figure it out.

  “The Nahual brought the moon,” Matt said.

  “Interesting. You will tell me exactly how later. Now, we should move on.”

  “I’m not leaving Gina behind.”

  “The owner?” Edward peered around. “Where have you hidden her?”

  “In a wolf suit,” Matt muttered.

  “Ah.” The old man nodded. “That explains your misbehavior with the gun. But she has become a demon werewolf. There is nothing you can do.”

  Panic fluttered in Matt’s chest, nearly choking him. “You said there was a cure.”

  “I did. However, it is nothing you can do. I have sent for my granddaughter. Unfortunately, she is busy elsewhere at the moment. She will arrive as soon as she can. Let us hope that in the meantime your Gina does not force me to put a silver bullet through her brain.”

  “I doubt anyone could force you to do anything you didn’t want to do.”

  “If I again discover her inches from killing you, I will very much want to do it.” Mandenauer stared out over the now-sunny terrain. “Gina is no longer Gina but werewolf. The virus strangles her humanity; the demon burns within. She will kill. She will not be able to help herself. Even now—” He waved a battered, emaciated hand in the direction she had disappeared. “She is stalking her first victim.”

  “She wouldn’t—”

  “She has to. The bloodlust is maddening. All that pounds in her lupine brain is hunger. Until she satisfies it with a kill, she exists for nothing else.”

  Matt rubbed his face. “She did it for me.”

  Mandenauer set a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “Tell me everything.”

  * * *

  The wolf that had once been Gina O’Neil followed the men. She made certain not to let them know it.

  The tall one with the long stick that smelled like death and fire was dangerous. He would have killed her if the other one—

  She tilted her head. There was something about the other one that made her more uneasy than the dangerous man with the silver-filled weapons. She’d wanted to kill him, needed to with a desperation that had left little room for anything else. Yet still she’d hesitated and nearly lost her life. That maddening scent of fruit and warmth and her—

  Gina growled. She didn’t like it that he smelled of her. It was confusing.

  The slowly spreading madness hadn’t yet obliterated all sense. She understood that the other one had saved her life. What she didn’t understand was why.

  Hunger roared in both belly and brain, the pulse red-hot, excruciating. If she didn’t appease it, she would split in two from the pain. Or maybe it was the being split in two—woman and wolf—that was causing the pain in the first place.

  Along with the hunger and the flashes of memories that were not hers alone came knowledge—bite and make others like you, devour, and kill.

  Giii-naaa!

  On the horizon stood a man, naked, bronzed, and gleaming in the newly born sun. Her maker. He had gifted her with a whole new world. One where she was stronger, faster, better. She would never again think herself less than. From now on she would always be more.

  Gina loped in his direction. In moments she stood on the hill at his side. He laid one hand on her head, then lifted the other to point back in the direction she’d come. In the distance two familiar figures trudged across the land.

  “Take your pick,” he said in a voice that no longer held even a hint of Jase McCord.

  * * *

  “Let us talk as we walk,” Mandenauer said.

  “Walk where?” Matt asked, though they were already doing just that.

  “You must show me the cavern that contained this beast.”

  “Why?”

  “We will get to that when we get there.”

  “It’s pretty far,” Matt said. If he was right about where they were and where they had to go, it might take days. Considering there was now a pack of werewolves out there … “We should probably head to the ranch and—”

  “No need.” Mandenauer pointed to the horizon.

  Matt squinted. “Is that a car?”

  “How do you think I got here?”

  Matt hadn’t thought. He’d had a few other items on his mind.

  “We won’t be able to make it all the way to the site in that.”

  The old man shrugged. “We can get much closer.”

  They reached the vehicle, a boxy old Mercedes. An SUV, a Hummer, perhaps a tank, would have been better, but wheels were wheels. Once inside, Matt gave Mandenauer directions and sat back. Matt could use a nap, but before he could even take a breath, Edward spoke.

  “Tell me what happened since our last conversation.”

  It took a lot longer than Matt would have thought. By the time he finished, they’d reached the end of the road. Literally.

  “Does wolfsbane keep werewolves out?” Matt asked.

  “Sometimes.” Mandenauer’s bony fingers turned off the motor. “Depends on the werewolf. Once the Nahual inhabited Jase McCord, I doubt wolfsbane would have bothered him at all. Possession is strange. The two become one, yet still there are two. The wolfsbane might only affect the Nahual in wolf form, or perhaps not affect it at all. Or the creature’s magic may have been stronger than the magic of the charm.”

  “Sorcerers are a pain in the ass,” Matt muttered.

  “I should put that on a bumper sticker.” Mandenauer got out of the car. He began to sling rifles and bullet bandoliers over his skinny shoulders before shoving a few pistols into his belt.

  “You want me to help with that?” Matt asked.

  The old man stopped just long enough to hand Matt one of the pistols before he started walking. Matt let out a surprised snort-cough and followed, shaking his head.

  Matt kept a wary eye on every bush, tree, and crevice. If Gina came charging out, fangs bared, Mandenauer would kill her. Matt needed to be prepared to—

  What? Throw himself in front of a silver bullet?

  In a word—yes. He was not going to let Gina die if there was any chance of putting her back the way she’d been. If it meant he had to die or even become like her, Matt would. He could perform sacrifice as well as the next Aztec.

  The tree of life inched slowly out of the horizon. Matt glanced at Mandenauer, but he seemed to be doing fine despite the weight of the guns and ammo. Were Matt to analyze who w
as breathing harder, he’d have to say he was. If the old guy wasn’t careful, someone might shoot him with silver one day just to see if he died.

  Matt expected Mandenauer to return the favor and tell Matt all that he knew, but he didn’t. Finally, Matt couldn’t wait any longer. “Did you find a way to kill the Nahual?”

  “No.”

  “But—” Matt stopped walking as sick, slick dread washed over him. “There has to be a way to end that thing.”

  “If there was,” Mandenauer didn’t stop, and Matt had to hurry to catch up so he didn’t miss a word of what the old man said, “then why did the Ute confine him?”

  “What do you plan to do?”

  Mandenauer didn’t answer and the sick, slick dread deepened.

  “I won’t let you hurt her,” Matt said quietly.

  “It may come down to her or you.”

  “I choose her.”

  Mandenauer peered down his nose. “You do not get to choose.”

  “She can be cured,” Matt insisted. “You said so yourself.”

  The old man stared straight ahead. “Sometimes those we cure run mad. There have been days where I wonder if it would not be better to put them out of their misery like the rabid dogs I often tell witnesses that they are.”

  “No,” Matt said. “Just … no.”

  The old man shrugged, not an agreement but probably the best Matt was going to get from him.

  “If the Nahual can’t be killed, then what’s your plan?”

  “As I told you on the phone, we will simply confine the creature again.”

  “And as I told you, everyone alive when the deed was done is dead, and no one bothered to leave an instruction booklet. We’re screwed.”

  “Not any longer. I spoke with the man who confined him.”

  “Are you high?” Matt asked. “The guy’s dust.”

  “So was the Nahual once.”

  Matt’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”

  “Raised the dead.”

  Matt laughed. Mandenauer did not.

  “I—uh—how?”

  “Voodoo can be very useful in my line of work.”

  “You practice voodoo?”

  “My boy, I’d dance the hoochie-coochie on the Empire State Building if it got me what I wanted.”