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Ella glanced pointedly at Alex. “You mean like asking them if they want to become one?”
“I told you that was going to bite you on the butt,” Alex muttered. “So to speak.”
Ella’s comment reminded Alex that the Frenchwoman knew who she really was. Sure, Ella had taken Alex’s side; she’d called her “poor thing,” but if she was a rogue werewolf, lying was the least of her sins. Wouldn’t a rogue be first in line to kill the person most qualified to kill them?
“If Jorund wanted to become a werewolf, why didn’t he do it before he was eight thousand years old?” Julian asked.
“I wasn’t…certain.” The old man sighed. “I’m still not.”
“Then I can’t turn you. You have to be sure.”
“Alex wasn’t,” Ella said flatly.
“Dammit, Ella,” Julian erupted. “That was different.”
“I agree. This is about love. That was about hate.”
Alex winced, even though she was right.
Julian pressed his lips together. The table began to shimmy as if there were an earthquake, though nothing else in the house moved.
“I told you not to upset him,” Jorund said.
Ella kept her gaze on Julian’s face. “I’m not afraid of him.”
The wine in Alex’s glass began to bubble and boil. She stood up, moved back. “Maybe you should be.”
Suddenly the table stilled, the wine calmed, and Julian sat back down. “Is it because of the initial kill?”
The old man shrugged. “I don’t like the idea of taking a life to ensure my immortality.” He lifted one hand as Ella leaned forward to speak. “But I also believe that there are some humans who should be removed from this earth. I’m just not sure we should be choosing who they are.”
“We aren’t,” Julian said. “I am.”
Jorund’s lips twitched. But he didn’t comment.
Julian’s gaze narrowed. “What else?”
“It’s not that I don’t want to be with her forever.” Jorund lifted his gaze to Ella’s, and his eyes reflected his devotion. “But I can’t leave my people no
w.”
“Because of the rogue?” Julian asked, and Jorund nodded.
“He’ll take care of it,” Ella said.
“I promised to protect my people,” the old man said. “How would it look if I suddenly became the creature that was killing them?”
Ella stood, throwing up her hands and making a very French sound of aggravation deep in her throat. “You would not be that creature. You would be you. You would never hurt a living soul now, and therefore you would not hurt a living soul after.”
“So you say,” Jorund returned.
“Once you die,” Ella murmured, “it is too late.”
The Inuit ignored her. “If my people are safe, then I can be sure.”
“Okay,” Julian said. “Okay.”
Julian released the throttle of the snowmobile and coasted to a stop in front of Ella’s. Alex climbed off immediately.
