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He sighed for a second time, turning his attention toward the roaring fire. “I am Maximillian Dante Cordero, son of Blackhawk, current alpha of the Wolfen.”
The words were said in such a matter-of-fact manner that I was more intrigued than terrified. I studied the drink, realizing my throat was scratchy. I was still woozy as I reached for the glass, tingling all over. “Wolfen. What is that?” My God, I was feeding into this fantasy—this nightmare—my grandmother’s belief.
“Wolfen are an ancient species, born from a disease that wiped out much of civilization.” He tipped his head, studying my reaction.
I wasn’t certain whether I was supposed to applaud or laugh, but everything I’d feared as a child seemed to be coming true. “You’re a werewolf.”
“Not in the traditional sense, no, but a wolf nonetheless.”
“A wolf. Right. Okay.” I took a sip of the brandy, thankful the liquid soothed my throat. He remained quiet. “What else? You kill people for a living? Is that what the whole meeting in the forest was about, to hunt new victims?”
He took his time, sipping on his drink and raking his hand through his hair. He looked the same as before, gorgeous in every manner, those damn beautiful cobalt blue eyes dazzling. There was no hint of the golden ring I’d seen before. I forced myself to look away, fearful I’d be caught in his web once again.
“We do not kill humans. In fact, we are not allowed to turn into our beast unless absolutely necessary,” he explained, his voice so smooth, velvety soft.
“You expect me to believe that shit?”
“You are highly skilled in several areas, Kathleen, your investigative skills top notch. Trust your instinct. What did you see in the forest?”
“A nightmare.”
“Be more specific.”
“Wolves. Where there were men and women then there were wolves,” I whispered, as if saying the concept out loud would make it true. I grabbed the blanket, pulling it over my shaking body and studying him intently. He was the same in all aspects. “How?”
“The ability to turn is innate, natural for us from the day we are born.”
I allowed his words to sink in although they remained swimming in my mind.
“What happened to this woman you mentioned?” I finally managed.
He rolled the glass from one hand to the other. “She was killed in the same way as the others, only her arms were crossed in front of her and she was positioned on a bed of thorns.”
“Thorns? What? What does that mean?”
“A statement. More for effect, a warning for our people.”
I couldn’t help but scoot closer, leaning over. “A warning. So, the other murders were a warning to your… species?” Was I actually buying into this shit?
“I’m certain now. Yes.”
“Why and who would have the audacity?”
“That’s a good question. Someone who wants to see the end of our kind, annihilation of the Wolfen.”
“You mean you have enemies? The big, bad wolf that you are.” I couldn’t help but mock him, even though I had a pang of guilt for doing so. He didn’t deserve my wrath entirely.
“We have many enemies, Kathleen. Men. Beasts. There are at least a dozen species of wolves that would stop at nothing to hunt down the Wolfen. They will always attempt to destroy our peace, which is why these murders are so disturbing. I can’t gather a clear scent of this creature.”
“Uh-huh. So, let’s just assume another type of wolf is doing this, what do they hope to gain?”
He took another look at the fire. “I’m uncertain. Perhaps the spiritual ground. Maybe they believe that if they destroy our ancestry then they will become more powerful.”
“Ancient burial grounds. Various species of wolves. Oh, and isn’t there an ancient curse? What about the disease?” I threw out. What little I’d read made more sense, even though I knew I’d fallen into some kind of fantasy.
“There is much for you to read in the book, Kathleen. Everything will make sense.”
I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “You’re crazy. You know I don’t believe any of this. Don’t you? You’re right in that I work with facts, not some fiction that an entire group of grown men and women seem to buy into. What total bullshit.”
