The thought popped into her head, unbidden. She didn’t stop to wonder how it had happened but lifted her skirts and made her way to the third floor, then down the hall until she arrived at a scene out of a horror novel.
The furniture had been overturned, the walls were splattered with blood, and Marcus stood with one hand clasped to his waist, panting heavily. His hair was plastered to his head, the arm of his coat was torn off, and there were deep gashes all over his body.
Uncle Ethan was nowhere to be seen, but when she saw the only other occupant of the room, she shrieked. An impossibly large four-legged creature swiveled its head until black eyes bored into hers. Saliva dripped from its open jaws and formed smoking puddles on thefloor. The creature writhed and twisted, shrinking until it was only her bloodied, naked cousin.
Vincent was a werewolf.
That explained why he’d loathed her father’s hunting dogs and his wretched need to possess her as a wolf might claim a mate.
Come to me.
Those were Marcus’s words, but he hadn’t spoken. She was running to him before she realized it. When he took her hands, something sparked between them, like static, and her mind opened. There were no other words to describe it. One moment she was alone in her head, and the next, she wasn’t. She felt him reach for her, mentally, and met him with an exuberant sharing of sensation. She could feel her own hands clasping him because his body was hers. They were one and the same. She physically and mentally embraced him, passing along every reassuring feeling she possessed. He sent back a powerful wave of love that warmed her from the inside out.
“I can feel you,” she whispered.
The ragged edges of his thoughts scraped against hers. She gently pulled back, just enough that she could distinguish where she ended and he began. He must have felt the same, as he blinked several times, like he’d been spun around in circles.
Vincent stood from behind the couch and scowled fiercely. “You cannot support that monster, Winifred.” He held out his arms. “Come with me and I will bring you home, away from this nightmare.”
She slid her hand into Marcus’s. “Thisis my home.”
Vincent picked up a pistol from the ground and leveled it at Marcus. “Then you have made your decision.”
There was a loud bang, and a bullet struck Marcus in the torso. The pain reverberated through her body. She clasped her own shoulder, expecting to feel carnage, but there was nothing there.
Marcus toppled over. She shrieked his name and clawed at his shirt. The edges of the bullet wound weren’tknitting together.
“No,” she whispered. She brought her wrist to his lips. “Bite me.”
His head lolled to the side.
“Marcus!” Her voice broke. “I can’t lose you.” She wiped his face with the corner of her sleeve. The fabric of his coat was mangled, and the angry flesh beneath torn to shreds and speckled with bits of metal. She picked them off while tears flowed down her cheeks and splattered on his face.
His eyelid fluttered open. “Winifred. I have seen to it… You will be… taken care of. Your uncle…” He trailed off and went limp.
A sob burst from her mouth. It felt as if someone had taken a sword and ran it through her heart, then pulled it out, leaving her with a gaping hole in her chest.
A hand landed on her shoulder. “Leave him.”
She shrugged away from Vincent and ran her hands over Marcus’s body, searching for a knife or dagger or anything with a sharp edge. If he was not conscious enough to bite her, she would have to help him.
“Winifred, that’s enough,” Vincent said. “Do you know what I’ve done for you? I’ve spent the last several months setting everything in motion to earn your freedom. Now we can finally be together.”
She heard his words but didn’t care. Her arms trembled from the effort of holding Marcus. His skin was slippery, but she couldn’t give up. The moment she did, it would be admitting that he was gone.
“We have to leave,” her cousin said. “Your husband’s distress will summon more of his kind.”
Vincent was going to take her away. Marcus would die, cold and alone, while her family forced her back to Canada. She would live the rest of her life with a piece of her soul missing.
It was not a life she would accept.
Her numb fingers grasped the ground until they landed on a shard of glass. She curled her fingers around it and when her cousin crouched, she slashed.
He leaped out of the way but sustained a thin scratch along hisarm. Blood splattered to the ground. “You cut me!” He snarled, and his skull elongated. In moments, he’d become a wolf again. She wouldn’t get another chance. She brought the shard to her neck and sliced. The pain was intense, but she gritted her teeth to keep from crying out and she leaned over Marcus.
Drink.
Her vision grew hazy. Vincent was shouting, but she couldn’t make out the words over thewhooshingin her head. She clung to Marcus until her strength gave out, then closed her eyes and fell on top of him.
