Howling Moon Part 3

Jack.

That instant the night was cut by the howl of a wolf, ending in a woman's scream that cut off abruptly. Dear G.o.d! What had he sent Betty into?

Before he could react, even think, the cat reared her head back and roared. roared. The sound hit his magic like a sledgehammer blow, driving him to his knees with bruising force. The cat disappeared in a blur of speed, leaping over an eight-foot privacy fence almost too fast for his eyes to follow. The sound hit his magic like a sledgehammer blow, driving him to his knees with bruising force. The cat disappeared in a blur of speed, leaping over an eight-foot privacy fence almost too fast for his eyes to follow.

Raphael stumbled to his feet and took off at a run. He couldn't change, not here where the combined light of the moon and streetlamps made it all too likely someone would see. Only when he reached the fenced backyard of the Wildethorne house could Raphael let loose the power he'd been fighting since sundown. He felt the glory of power surging over him as the heat of his magic disintegrated most of his clothing. He felt muscles and bones s.h.i.+ft and reform; felt the thick black fur sprout from his skin. The gun thudded to the ground. When Raphael leapt through the shattered remains of the French doors he was fully a wolf.

The kitchen was a big room, taking up most of the back of the house. But it was not big enough for the fight that raged inside. It was a scene from h.e.l.l, or a slasher movie. Blood, h.e.l.l, or a slasher movie. Blood, and and worse, was worse, was everywhere, pooling on the floor, splattered over the daisy-print wallpaper, running down the sides of the center island. everywhere, pooling on the floor, splattered over the daisy-print wallpaper, running down the sides of the center island.

Raphael stood, transfixed, watching the jaguars fight. Catherine had locked her jaws into the thick band of muscles across Jack's neck and shoulders, wicked claws knifing through his mottled fur as she tried to slice into his delicate underbelly, break his neck, or both. Jack roared with pain and rage, pouring blinding purple magic into the woman in waves, trying to force her back into human form while at the same time he slammed her body against the walls of the kitchen trying to break her hold.

The woman was doing fine. h.e.l.l, she was doing better than fine. If Raphael tried to join the fight at this point he'd just hinder her. There was no maneuvering room as it was. The two large cats were taking up virtually all of the available s.p.a.ce.

Raphael s.h.i.+fted his attention to an inert figure curled in the far corner. A pool of blood spread from Betty's body across the white tiled floor. He could see her breathing. She was alive. Betty was alphic, and a powerful healer. Even so, Raphael wasn't sure she would make it. Not without help. The s.h.i.+mmer of her aura was dim and weak she was fading.

The fight s.h.i.+fted. For just a moment the path was clear. Raphael darted in, moving to aid his pack mate and gave an involuntary gasp at the extent of Betty's wounds. Jack had eviscerated her. Through the gaping hole in her abdomen Raphael could see her lungs move. Blood spurted in rhythm with her heartbeat. Raphael forced himself to ignore the sweet metallic smell of blood, forced down his beast, the hunger, and the rage. He concentrated, willing himself to human form. He had a small healing talent that he'd trained himself to use, but he needed his human hands to help her. The cats would live or die, but Betty was pack. pack.

He closed his eyes, struggling to concentrate. It was hard. The cats fighting was a distraction, and part of his magic and energy was already going to mask the sounds coming from the house. Betty's help with the s.h.i.+elds had fallen when she had. He didn't dare let the neighbors hear what was going on. The Sazi secret would be kept, even if it cost all of their lives.

Raphael felt weakness coming over him in waves. The hands he used to press Betty's intestines inside her body were trembling with the strain. He pulled power from within the depths of his being, shoving pure, untrained magic into Betty's body, forcing her, willing her, willing her, to heal. He was able to stem the blood loss, close the wound, but that was all, and it might well not be enough. to heal. He was able to stem the blood loss, close the wound, but that was all, and it might well not be enough.

Raphael's eyes dimmed, his breath coming in gasps. He'd pushed himself this hard before, but he'd never in his life felt so weak. He forced his head to turn, to see what was happening with the cats. Jack had managed to throw the woman off, but at a cost. His neck and throat were a red ruin where large chunks of flesh had been ripped away. Blood poured from the wicked wounds Catherine had inflicted on his sides and belly. He stood just inside the swinging doors that led to the rest of the house, staring at the feline lying in a stunned heap a few feet away. His gaze turned to Raphael, green eyes narrowing as he bared his b.l.o.o.d.y fangs. Jack's muscles bunched; he lowered his body moving slowly forward, stalking the other man.

Raphael took the gun from Betty's limp hand, aiming it steadily. He prayed there were still bullets, that the clip was not empty.

"Ramirez " Jack's voice was a rumbling growl.

Raphael didn't know what he would have said, for they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps and the click of claws on concrete just outside the kitchen door.

Jack hissed, moving quickly away. His eyes remained locked on Raphael. Raw hatred burned in Jack's glance, the scent of it pouring from him in waves that filled the room. As much as Raphael wanted Jack's death, the jaguar probably wanted his more.

Slowly, deliberately, he stalked forward.

Raphael pulled the trigger. The cat's speed faltered with each shot, but momentum carried him forward. Blood poured from scorched wounds and dripped from Jacks fangs, but still he came forward. The hatred in his eyes was a living, breathing thing. "I will kill you." "I will kill you." The words echoed both inside Raphael's head and through the kitchen. The words echoed both inside Raphael's head and through the kitchen.

"No." A familiar feminine voice answered from the back door. "You won't." Tatiana Santiago stood limned in moonlight, dressed to me nines in a designer suit, high-heeled pumps, and holding a high-powered rifle. Next to her stood a wolf the size holding a high-powered rifle. Next to her stood a wolf the size of a small pony her son, Michael. of a small pony her son, Michael.

Adrenaline rushed through Raphael's veins as he heard the bolt of a rifle slide home. "Tatya, no!"

"Listen to the nice man, Tatya. There's not enough magic left in the s.h.i.+eld to silence a rifle shot." Jack glared malevolently from one to the other of his three opponents.

"Maybe I'm willing to take my chances," she answered coolly.

Feet slipping in the pooled blood on the floor, Raphael grabbed the countertop and hauled himself upward. Pain stole the breath from his lungs as he strained to make torn and battered muscles work. "You can't."

She stood framed in the doorway, feet shoulder width apart, rifle raised and aimed.

"He needs to die."

"Yes. But we can't kill him." The bitterness in Raphael's voice was palpable.

Jack laughed, then coughed. b.l.o.o.d.y bubbles appeared at his lips. The silver bullets hadn't killed him, but combined with the injuries Catherine had given him, he wasn't in good shape. Far too injured to risk going against the three wolves.

"I won't let him kill you." Tatya held the gun with a cold confidence that made it clear she meant every word. Michael, meanwhile, began edging away from his mother, moving slowly to the right, his muscles bunched and teeth bared for an attack.

Jack's eyes narrowed. "Another time, Ramirez." With a blur of speed that should not not have been possible for anyone so badly injured, he was gone. have been possible for anyone so badly injured, he was gone.

Tonight was a night for impossible things to happen. Raphael relaxed and groaned.

Tatya set the rifle on the kitchen counter and bent down to check on the wounded. She gave a soft gasp of dismay at the extent of Betty's injuries. Still, the Second Female was a tough customer. Raphael could hear her weak pulse and reedy breathing. He felt a surge of power, saw Tatya's pale green aura begin glowing more brightly. He watched, fascinated, as her magic flowed in a steady stream over Betty's wounds, stabilizing and even reversing the damage. When he was sure Betty was safe, he called out to the alpha female.

"Tatya "

She crossed the kitchen to where the woman lay. The cat had reverted to human form when Jack knocked her unconscious. She lay sprawled where he'd left her, blood pouring from open wounds, arm splayed at an unnatural angle. Even so she was beautiful. Sun streaked golden hair, creamy skin and a heart-shaped face that was a near perfect image of Fiona Monier when she'd left Jack for Raphael.

Michael stood over her protectively.

"Mike, step away so your mom can treat her." The wolf took two steps back, but he continued to eye Raphael balefully. He didn't quite growl, but he stood his ground between him and the woman. That was surprising, considering how low in the pack Mike was, and how much weaker in power.

Mike was a lesser alpha. There really wasn't much human left in him when the full moon called his beast, but his attention and reaction to the Turner woman was odd, and a little concerning. It was a complication Raphael didn't need. But there was a worse one coming: sirens, distant, but approaching fast.

Raphael forced himself to stand. "Mike, find the front door and stand guard. If you hear anyone coming, bark like h.e.l.l. It may buy us some time." Raphael put every bit of his authority into the words until finally, reluctantly, Mike did as he was bid and pushed through the swinging doors.

Raphael checked the aunt. She was unconscious, but otherwise seemed unharmed.

Catherine was not so lucky. Her pulse was steady, as was her breathing, but blood matted in her hair where her head had impacted against the corner of the kitchen island.

"We should probably get the three of them upstairs and to bed," Tatya suggested.

"Is it all right to move her?"

He felt, rather than saw, her glare. It had been a stupid question. She was a physician as well as one of the most powerful healers in the Sazi world and knew her job. He should've known better than to ask, but her hostility to the question seemed out of character. He shook his head and held out his hands in apology, then set the gun on the kitchen counter. Bending down, he gently lifted the woman from the floor.

Tatya stepped over to the French doors and pulled the curtains closed. "Can you cast a solid illusion of gla.s.s? We want things to look as normal as possible if the police come around back, and I I have to concentrate on their wound's!" have to concentrate on their wound's!"

"I can try." The effort it took was phenomenal. Sweat poured down his face. But he managed.

Tatya lifted Betty gently in her arms. The two of them walked with their burdens through the darkened living room and up the staircase. He'd never been in this particular house, but the floor plan was a common one in the city. Chances were good that the bedrooms would be upstairs.

The staircase turned sharply, opened into a narrow hall. There were doors on either side, and a third door at the far end of the hallway, just beyond a second staircase. Raphael followed his nose, carrying Catherine into the bedroom that bore her scent. Tatya carried Betty through the opposite door.

Raphael kicked aside a tall pile of packages from the afternoon's shopping trip that littered the floor between the door and the unmade bed. Gently, he set Catherine's body down and fought the urge to lie down beside her. He was so d.a.m.ned d.a.m.ned tired. But it was more than that. He wanted to hold her naked body next to his just to be near her. He felt almost drugged by her scent, and being so close to her made the effects worse. tired. But it was more than that. He wanted to hold her naked body next to his just to be near her. He felt almost drugged by her scent, and being so close to her made the effects worse.

He reached down, gently brus.h.i.+ng a strand of her golden hair away from her face.

The sound of voices beneath the window, and Michael's frenzied barking brought him abruptly back to the present.

Raphael rushed into the bathroom. There was no time to spare, but he had to rinse Catherine's blood from his body before talking to the police. He only took a minute, but by me time he was done, there was the sound of a heavy fist pounding on the front door.

"I've got it!" he called, making sure his voice was loud enough to carry through the open window. He grabbed the first thing that came to hand from the white wicker laundry hamper a pair of lavender sweatpants. He pulled them on awkwardly as he hurried to the bedroom window.

"Who is it?" he asked. He already knew the answer. A police cruiser was parked in front of the house, and he could smell fresh gun oil even over the scent of the roses planted beneath the window.

"Police. Open up!"

"I'll be right down!"

Raphael hustled down the staircase into the living room. into the living room.

"Guard the back door," he whispered to Michael. The wolf padded quickly through the swinging doors. As soon as he was out of sight, Raphael opened the front door.

There were three figures standing in the circle of light from the porch lamp. Two wore crisp dark uniforms and serious expressions. The third, a woman of late middle age, wore a hot-pink pantsuit that was stretched taut across an ample frame.

"Who are you! Where's Violet? Where's Catherine?" She spat the words at him, dark eyes blazing with suspicion.

The police officer moved her back and to the side. "Please, ma'am. We'll handle this."

Raphael chose to ignore her and her questions. He was much more concerned with the police.

"Sorry it took so long. I had to put my dog in the kitchen."

"Your neighbor has reported a disturbance," said the female officer. She was obviously the senior of the pair. Her dark hair was silvered, and she had the flat, emotionless eyes of a veteran who'd seen it all. Raphael recognized the look. Her partner was still new enough to be wet behind the ears. A good-sized man, he was taller than Raphael, with the build of an athlete. He didn't have the obvious bulk of a football or hockey player. Muscular, but lanky: basketball, maybe swimming. He had an all-American look to him, but tough.

"This man isn't my neighbor," the older woman said aggressively. Each word was punctuated by an aggressive yip from the lap dog under her arm. "He's lying! Where is Violet?" man isn't my neighbor," the older woman said aggressively. Each word was punctuated by an aggressive yip from the lap dog under her arm. "He's lying! Where is Violet?"

"We were watching a movie " Raphael began.

"I know what I heard! I heard screaming screaming coming from coming from this house?" this house?" The neighbor's jaw thrust forward aggressively. The neighbor's jaw thrust forward aggressively.

The female officer rolled her eyes and stepped forward a pace, putting the neighbor behind her. "If you don't mind, sir, we'd like to speak with either Violet Wildethorne or Catherine Turner."

Raphael opened his mouth to respond, but Tatya's voice from upstairs beat him to it.

"Raphael, whatever is going on on down there?" Her voice held just the perfect trace of exasperation. Somehow the tone of just those few words hinted at s.e.xual escapades being rudely interrupted. It was a masterful performance. down there?" Her voice held just the perfect trace of exasperation. Somehow the tone of just those few words hinted at s.e.xual escapades being rudely interrupted. It was a masterful performance.

"The police are here. Apparently the TV was too loud and we disturbed the neighbors."

"That is not not Catherine's voice!" Catherine's voice!"

"Of course not." Raphael agreed. "Sweetheart, they want to see Catherine."

"Oh, for the love of G.o.d! Give us a second to pull on some clothes!"

Out of the corner of his eye Raphael could see the male officer's mouth twitch as he tried to stifle a grin, his eyes s.h.i.+ning with suppressed mirth. The female officer was more suspicious and much less amused.

A moment later the two women appeared at the top of the stairs, Tatya's arm protectively around Catherine's waist. The two of them were quite a sight. Tatya, a pet.i.te silver blonde with a spectacular figure, was wearing only a powder-blue teddy. The color was perfect for her silver-blue eyes and milk-white skin. Catherine wore a burgundy satin floor-length robe that had been tied tightly enough around her to hide the worst of her injuries, but gaped enough when she moved to show there was nothing underneath it.

Catherine struggled to focus, her eyes lighting on the neighbor. "Oh, Mrs. Zabatos "

"Oh my G.o.d!" G.o.d!" The scent of disgusted disapproval poured off of the older woman in waves. The scent of disgusted disapproval poured off of the older woman in waves.

"Is that Catherine?" The older officer directed her question to the neighbor.

"Yes." Mrs. Zabatos, turned her back to the scene, her voice outraged.

"Ms. Turner, are you all right?" She turned her attention sharply to the woman on the steps.

Catherine looked down at her body, her expression confused. She looked up again, her eyes locking with Raphael's. "I... I'm fine." She sounded surprised.

Raphael let out the breath he had been holding. It wasn't a ringing endors.e.m.e.nt, but, combined with the little push of magical persuasion he was using, it would probably be enough.

"Is there anything else we can do for you officers?" Raphael asked.

"Just keep the noise down," the older officer answered. She was shaking her head as though annoyed by a buzzing insect in her ear. That happened sometimes with strong-willed humans, so Raphael pulled back his magic a little bit. It seemed to calm her. He could tell she wasn't happy with the situation, but she wasn't going to pursue it. Her partner couldn't he was too busy fighting a losing battle with his amus.e.m.e.nt. He waited until both Mrs. Zabatos and his partner were out of earshot. Taking a long, appreciative look at the women on the staircase, he turned to Raphael. "You are one lucky lucky b.a.s.t.a.r.d." b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"You have no idea." Raphael grinned and elbowed the officer, who grinned back, and pulled the door closed behind him when he left. Raphael was so relieved his knees felt weak.

"Come to bed, Catherine." Tatya ordered, her arm still around the younger woman's waist. Raphael could feel the surge of power as Tatya exerted her magic to influence Catherine.

"No." Catherine pulled away, shaking her head, almost stumbling on the hem of the long robe. She never took her eyes off of Raphael. "I remember you." She spoke slowly, and with great care. Her expression was confused, and he could scent worry. He didn't blame her. The images she was probably remembering wouldn't make any sense to a human who knew nothing of the Sazi.

"I'm not surprised." Raphael answered, raising a hand to signal Tatya to silence. "But I I still need to change, and eat. You still need to change, and eat. You do do need to go to bed. I'll explain everything in the morning." need to go to bed. I'll explain everything in the morning."

"Promise?" Her plea was almost childlike.

"I promise."

She allowed Tatya to lead her upstairs then. Raphael, gratefully, pulled off the sweatpants and let the moon take him.

THE BLOOD WAS pooling in the dips of the metal floor of the rental van. Thick and almost impossibly red, the smell of it filled the small s.p.a.ce. Jack lay still, breath wheezing in and out of his injured lungs. The silver bullets had done their work, and Ramirez was as good a shot as ever. pooling in the dips of the metal floor of the rental van. Thick and almost impossibly red, the smell of it filled the small s.p.a.ce. Jack lay still, breath wheezing in and out of his injured lungs. The silver bullets had done their work, and Ramirez was as good a shot as ever.

"I still don't understand why you insisted on coming here." There was tension in the woman's voice, and veiled anger. Veiled, because Jack did not tolerate insubordination from anyone, no matter how useful she might be. And she was, admittedly, useful.

"You wouldn't understand. All you have to know is that I wanted to." Jack didn't say anything further. It hurt to talk. Nor was he willing to let anyone know the full extent of his plans. The female wolf, Betty, had been an unexpected complication. Worse, it had all nearly been ruined when he'd come face to face with Ramirez. The temptation to end it, then and there, in the Wildethorne kitchen had nearly been too much to resist. But no, it was better to wait. He could afford to be patient, to let things develop naturally. In the end his revenge would be complete and utterly satisfying. wouldn't understand. All you have to know is that I wanted to." Jack didn't say anything further. It hurt to talk. Nor was he willing to let anyone know the full extent of his plans. The female wolf, Betty, had been an unexpected complication. Worse, it had all nearly been ruined when he'd come face to face with Ramirez. The temptation to end it, then and there, in the Wildethorne kitchen had nearly been too much to resist. But no, it was better to wait. He could afford to be patient, to let things develop naturally. In the end his revenge would be complete and utterly satisfying.

He hissed as she laid dark hands on the torn and bloodied fur, but didn't lash out. The pain was phenomenal. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been hurt this badly. Maybe that time in Madrid. At least this time there was a healer nearby. Closing his eyes against the blinding glow of her aura, he let the heat of the magic wash over him as she began her work.

"EAT," T TATYA ORDERED.

They were in the living room of the house. It was a pretty room, done in soft blues and grays. The furniture looked comfortable lived in, but not shabby. The drapes were drawn. The thick navy panels blocked out the moonlight he knew was gleaming brightly beyond the gla.s.s.

Raphael forced himself to take a bite. Tatya had gone out to the car for the second bag of hamburger and steaks, and a fair-sized stack of meat was bleeding onto the beautiful china platter she'd set on the carpet in front of him. The smell was heavenly, but he barely had enough energy to chew. He felt as though he'd been pounded which made no sense whatsoever since neither Jack nor the woman had laid a claw on him and he should already have recovered from expending so much magical energy.