My Sister Is A Werewolf

CHAPTER 21

Elizabeth whipped around in her chair, staring at the speaker. She nearly fell as she scrambled upright, backing away, hardly able to believe her eyes. But she’d known he would come for her one day.

“Brody,” she managed, trying to keep the fear from her voice.

“Yes, it’s me. In the flesh.” He raised a black eyebrow and stepped farther into the room.

Elizabeth automatically stepped back.

“I can see you are glad to see me.”

“How… why are you here?”

Brody smiled, his grin revealing his white, even teeth. His teeth were the best feature of his broad, harsh face. When she’d first met him, she’d told herself that any man with a smile like his couldn’t be all bad. She’d been wrong. There was very little in Brody that was good. He was too selfish, too hardened to have much goodness inside him.

“Well, I couldn’t very well let my mate leave me forever.”

He strolled to her table, taking a seat as if he owned the place. He lifted her bowl of yogurt and granola, sniffing it. He grimaced, and pushed it away.

Leaning back and crossing his trunk-like arms over his barrel chest, he regarded her.

“And you’ve been a very bad mate, haven’t you?”

She froze, fear immediately spiking through her, making her panic. But she swallowed, willing herself to remain calm. Brody could sense her fear. A werewolf could sense fear, but Brody fed off it. He liked to cause fear in others.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

He raised his thick, black brow again. “Really?”

She shook her head, determined to hold her ground. She’d done it many times before, and in truth, she’d often walked away from their clashes, while not necessarily the victor, at least unscathed. This time she knew it was very important she didn’t submit.

He relaxed even more, regarding her with his brown eyes. So brown they often looked black, empty.

“Let me refresh your memory. The front seat of a pickup truck. An old man’s kitchen table. On that creaky, wooden swing out there on your front porch.”

Bile rose up in the back of Elizabeth’s throat, but she swallowed back her nausea. Oh God, Brody had watched them. Had seen it all. And while his wrath frightened her to the point that she was nearly shaking, it was the idea that he’d witnessed moments that should have been just hers and Jensen’s that distressed her. That he was somehow tainting them with his presence. That was what sickened her.

But she managed to pull herself up to her full height. “It’s nothing more than what you’ve done,” she said with false bravado, amazed it sounded believable, even to her ears.

“So you were just extending a little payback, eh?”

She nodded, trying to look angry rather than scared.

He quirked his lips, seeming to consider that information. For a moment, she thought he was going to accept her explanation. After all, Brody had cheated on her almost from the day that she’d agreed to mate with him. Not the natural behavior of a mated werewolf, but he’d never been conventional in any of his werewolf traits. Including his fidelity. And in truth, she’d been more than happy for him to go to other females. She’d mated for survival, not happiness or love.

But her hope that he’d just accept her reason was quickly dashed as he rose and stalked toward her. She backed away, but soon felt the handle of the refrigerator sharp in her back.

He cornered her there, blocking her escape with his massive body. He was about the same height as Jensen, but he had a good fifty pounds on Jensen’s lean, athletic build. Brody was like a tank. And he was a bully. And Elizabeth knew she was having a hard time keeping the fear out of her eyes.

“Now, darling, I appreciate that you think turnabout is fair play. But that isn’t the way I see it.”

Elizabeth raised her chin, meeting his eyes. “Is this another of your random alpha male rules?”

He laughed, the sound low and dangerous. “Random alpha male rules? Now, baby, you know I never had any of those. These are just Brody’s rules. And the number one rule is that Brody’s mate does not cheat. Especially not with a human.”

His eyes roamed down her body, making her skin crawl. “You let yourself be tainted, woman.”

She didn’t disagree with that, but it had been Brody who’d done the tainting, not Jensen. Jensen had made her realize what she could have had. If she hadn’t been so scared and pathetic.

She started as he moved, but she was surprised that he actually released her and paced away from her. She used the moment to shift away from the fridge, sidling closer to the back door.

He turned back to face her and she froze.

“The truth is that I could let that go. After all, from what I saw, the human seemed to teach you a trick or two.” He grinned, the lascivious gleam in his eyes nearly making her shiver with revulsion. But she didn’t. She remained absolutely still, doing nothing to draw him back to her.

He began to pace again, and for the first time, she realized his movements seemed a little jerky, as if something was hurting him. She watched his movements, trying to figure out what was wrong as she edged past the back door to the counter, spotting the knife holder. Even if she ran out the back door now, Brody would catch her in a heartbeat. She needed a weapon.

“But… ” He spun toward her, his dark eyes moving over her again. She remained motionless, barely even pulling in a breath. But her frozen posture didn’t save her this time. He darted, and before she could even prepare for his impact, she found herself pinned to the wall, his huge, hard bulk holding her there. She tried to pull in a breath, but couldn’t.

“But,” he repeated with one of his deceptively attractive smiles, “I can’t let go what I’ve tasted on your skin.” To punctuate his words, he leaned forward and licked her, his tongue moving up her cheek like a hot, slimy slug.

This time she couldn’t suppress a violent shudder.

He shifted back to look at her, and this time there was no smile, lascivious or otherwise. This time his mouth was set in a grim scowl. His black eyes burned with disgust.

“Oh, Lizzie, you have sealed that human’s death.”

His words seemed to knock the breath out of her. Jensen.

“Why?” she asked, not understanding what was motivating him. What had he tasted? When? She just didn’t understand. “What does the human matter? We are over, anyway.”

Brody nodded, his expression stating that he clearly didn’t believe her. “So I heard you say.”

“He isn’t important. And-and I shouldn’t have been with him. I just did it to-to hurt you.” She knew she was grabbing at straws, but she couldn’t let Brody go after Jensen. Jensen would be dead before he even realized what hit him.

“To hurt me?” He clearly didn’t believe her. But she should have known that given the chance, Brody would take advantage of the situation.

“If that’s the case, then I guess you’d want to show a little of that passion to me.” He didn’t wait for her to answer as he smashed his mouth down on hers.

Elizabeth struggled to suppress the wave of nausea rising up inside her. Instead, she tried to keep her lips relaxed as he battered them with his rough, painful kiss.

She tried to keep her movements unnoticed as she reached behind her for one of the knives. Her fingers brushed the wooden handles and she eased one out of its slot.

“Baby, I’m just not feeling the passion I saw with the human. You were getting freaky with him.” He bit her bottom lip hard, as if to demonstrate the freakiness he wanted from her.

“Oh,” she said, smiling sweetly even as another swell of nausea filled her. “I can be pretty freaky.”

She didn’t hesitate but drove the blade straight into his side. The knife slid in easier than she would have guessed, and he instantly jerked away from her.

Staring down at the steak knife, he let out a low growl that was more wolf than human. “You bitch.”

Elizabeth didn’t wait for any other reaction. She raced to the back door, flying down the steps, adrenaline coursing through her and adding to her speed. But once she reached the woods, she paused.

She glanced back at her house. She didn’t think Brody had exited yet. So she took a moment, concentrating. She’d be able to get to Jensen faster if she changed into wolf form. She never willingly shifted, but this time she knew she had to make the change. She had to get to him before Brody did.

Pulling in a calming breath, she let it happen. The shift hurt, but once it was done, the pain would be forgotten. And since it wasn’t quite the full moon, she would be able to think like herself. Only the full moon made her all wolf.

After a few pained moans and cracking of joints, she rose, then started running, her paws carrying her over the ground, eating up the distance between her and Jensen.

Jensen pushed aside Katie’s scrapbook. It was the first time he’d opened the book since Katie had died. Pain still filled his chest as he looked at the pictures. He wished things had gone differently. That Katie was here. He’d still give his own life for that to be the outcome of that night. But she was gone. And he’d mourned her. He still mourned her.

But he also mourned the look on Elizabeth’s face as he’d driven away earlier today.

He glanced at the window. It was dark. Where had the afternoon gone? Had he really just sat here staring at pictures, trying to sort out his feelings?

Yeah, he had. And he wasn’t that much closer to an answer. But he did know that he had to go to Elizabeth. He couldn’t go to Katie. But he could go to Elizabeth.

He got up from his bed, shoving his feet into his shoes. He walked over to the closet to grab a coat.

As he started to shrug on the leather jacket, he heard the back door slam. Then he heard the muffled voice of his grandfather shouting something.

Tugging on the coat, he hurried down the hall and took the stairs two at a time. What the hell was his grandfather yelling about? As he reached the living room, he heard a gunshot.

Shit, not again.

He ran out into the kitchen, and sure enough his grandfather was again on the back porch. Again he had his old rifle in his hand, aiming out at the darkened dooryard.

“Granddad,” he cried, just as another shot rang out. But unlike the last time, this time he heard a sharp yelp.

“Granddad! What the hell are you doing?”

His grandfather didn’t answer him, but loped down the steps, rifle still poised to shoot.

Jensen followed him out, not sure what he would find. But pretty damned sure it was going to be the McCormacks’ Newfoundland in a pool of blood.

He reached his grandfather, who scanned the ground, obviously looking for a trail of blood.

“I know I got it this time,” he stated, not looking up from his search.

“Granddad, I’m starting to really worry about you.”

“ Don ’t worry about me. Worry about that damned wolf.”

Jensen shook his head. This was really becoming a very strange obsession. A worrisome obsession. But he did find himself also scanning the ground for blood or pawprints.

Sure enough, he spotted prints in the damp driveway. Of course, he couldn’t be sure without really studying them if they were canine or some other animal.

Dog, he guessed, but he did find himself following them. His grandfather veered the other way, and Jensen hesitated to call to him about what he’d discovered. He was truly afraid he was going to find someone’s family pet, shot and dying. And given what Granddad had done for the last fifty years, Jensen knew he’d be devastated if he’d killed a domesticated animal.

No, it was best for Jensen to follow the trail himself, and if there was some poor animal injured, he’d handle it.

The trail continued toward the old woodshed behind the garage. He moved forward slowly as he realized the tracks seemed to lead right up to it. He approached slowly, afraid that the hurt animal might charge out of fear. But as he got to the building, nothing appeared. He glanced around, checking the door to see if it was open. The double doors were locked. He started to walk behind the shed to see if he could pick up the trail, when he heard a whimper. He stopped and listened.

Then he saw it. A large, black form in the waning light. Collapsed on the ground. He stepped a little closer. He saw the flash of pale eyes.

Again he heard a sound, although this time the sound didn’t seem like an animal. It had an almost human quality to it.

He took another step forward, frightened by what he was seeing. Suddenly very frightened, when something came at him from his right, launching him into the air. He landed on the ground with a hard thud.

He rolled onto his back, scrambling to get his bearings and rise. But before he could manage to even sit up, the thing pounced onto him, pinning him to the ground with tremendous weight.

He stared up at the creature, not really sure what he was looking at. Between the darkness and his own disorientation, he just couldn’t tell. But he knew whatever it was, it wasn’t a human form. And it wasn’t any animal that he was familiar with in this region. It was too large to be a dog. And it was indeed black, or dark enough to blend into the night.

The animal growled low in its throat, the sound as eerie as it was terrifying. Jensen could feel its breath on his face. He braced his hands on its neck, trying to push it away from him. Muscles bulged under its fur. Tendons and large bones made the animal like a living tank, immovable.

The creature growled again, and lunged at him, his jaws going straight for Jensen’s throat. Teeth began to clamp onto Jensen’s skin, although oddly, it didn’t hurt.

Shock, Jensen realized, even as it dawned on him that he was going to die. Then a shot rang out, deafening in its nearness. The creature on him jerked, and Jensen realized it had been hit. The creature rolled off of him, growling ferociously.

Jensen didn’t waste any time; he levered himself up on his arms, using both his hands and feet to scramble backwards away from the thing. It lunged at him again.

Jensen shoved at it, struggling to get out from underneath the crushing weight. In this position he was truly helpless.

“Goddamned thing,” he heard his grandfather yell, and he heard the faint sound of his grandfather reloading his rifle.

This time when the shot rang out, the animal jerked back off of Jensen. It made a noise somewhere between a yelp and a growl, the sound almost unnatural.

Jensen saw the glint of black eyes, staring at him as if it was considering lunging again, but then it spun and raced off into the night.

Jensen fell back onto the hard, damp ground, panting, his heart racing so hard he truly thought he might pass out.

“Jensen? Are you okay?”

He nodded faintly, then realized his granddad probably couldn’t see him. “Yes. I’m just winded.”

Granddad knelt beside him, his hands moving over him as if to check for any broken bones or open wounds.

Jensen struggled upright. “I’m fine. You scared it off before it could do any real damage.” Such as rip my throat out.

He sat there for a second, badly shaken. That had been the weirdest damned thing he’d ever experienced. Rubbing a shaking hand over his face, he tried to calm his heart rate.

“I think it’s gone. And I think I wounded it again.”

Jensen looked up at his grandfather’s silhouetted figure. “You think that was the same thing that you shot the other night?”

“Do you really think there are two of those things out there?” Granddad countered.

Yes, he did. He struggled to his feet. He knew there were two. And the other could be right behind the shed, waiting.

“Give me the gun,” he told the older man. “And wait inside.”

For once, Granddad didn’t seem to need to be told twice. He handed the rifle to his grandson.

Jensen headed toward the woodshed, listening closely. For some reason the breeze through the branches, the leaves under his feet, seemed much louder than usual. Not to mention the scents of damp earth, dead leaves wet from the earlier rain, and the hints of gasoline from his grandfather’s ancient sedan. All of it seemed so intense, so pronounced. Obviously because his senses were already in overdrive from the earlier incident. Now everything had him more aware, more on edge.

He glanced around, easily seeing the garage and the woodshed behind. He blinked, wondering why he could see them so easily now, when earlier he’d had a hard time even making out that animal that was only inches from his face.

Because he wasn’t panicking now, he reasoned, even as his heart pounded against his rib cage. He lifted the gun. Then a sound stopped him. He froze, listening.

It was a faint moan. A feeble sound, yet filled with pain. He glanced around, trying to pinpoint the source. Another small groan, low and distinctly feminine.

He zeroed in on the woodshed. The sound had definitely come from the same place where he’d seen the other one. He paused, debating whether he should wait for his grandfather to get his other rifle. It there were two of those things… But he didn’t wait-he strode in the direction of the shed. When he got closer, a familiar scent wafted around him.

Elizabeth.

“Elizabeth?” he called, opening the doors and looking inside. His grandfather’s ride-on lawnmower was parked in the middle of the space. Several rows of wood lined one wall; the other was littered with gardening tools and other lawn equipment.

She was here. He knew it. He shut the doors and walked around the shed. He reached the back and spotted her-half-sitting, half-lying against the side of the building-right where the thing had been.

“Oh my God.” He rushed forward, stopping short of touching her. She moaned again, but otherwise didn’t respond. He wasn’t even sure if she was conscious. He stared at her, unsure what to do. He knew what he’d seen back here, and it hadn’t been Elizabeth. Yet here she was now.

What was happening?

She groaned again, the sound so pained, and this time he couldn’t stay away. This was Elizabeth. And she was hurt.

He set down the rifle and lifted her against his chest. He ran toward the house, barreling up the back steps and into the kitchen. Granddad started as he entered, then rose.

“Dear God. Is she all right?”

Jensen shook his head. “I have no idea. I found her out by the woodshed.”

He hurried through the kitchen, taking her to the sofa. Carefully, he placed her on the cushions. She moaned again, something obviously causing her pain. He inspected what he could see. Her face was free of scrapes. Her arms, too. Then he noticed a wet, dark spot barely visible on her blue shirt. He looked down at his own hands, and saw they were covered with dark red. Blood.

He peeled back her t-shirt, easing it upward until he could see the wound-round, red, and ragged-in her right shoulder.

Not a wound that could have been made by an animal. Definitely a gunshot wound.

“I shot her.” Jensen heard his grandfather say, his voice a little reedy and confused. “How did I shoot her?”

Jensen didn’t answer. He didn’t know. Given what he knew now, he found it hard to believe that his granddad could confuse Elizabeth for what he saw out there. He knew what he’d seen and there was no mistaking that creature for a human.

“Maybe it ricocheted or something.” Even as he said the words, he didn’t believe them. “But she definitely needs to go to the hospital.”

Jensen started to lift her again, his panic at the paleness of her features making him a little rough.

This time she cried out-the jarring pain roused her. She blinked up at him, her gaze dazed although she gradually managed to focus.

“Jensen?” She started to lift her arm to touch his face, but she winced and let it drop back to her stomach. Still she gazed at him as if he were a figment of her imagination.

“You are alive,” she murmured. This time she did touch him, using her other hand. “You are alive.”

Her pale eyes welled with tears.

“Yes, sweetheart, I’m fine.” He wondered if she’d seen the attack. She must have, since it was the only reason for her emotional reaction.

“He was going to kill you.”

She had seen that attack.

“It’s okay. Granddad shot him. It’s okay now.”

She stared at him for a moment, then let out a sigh of relief. “He’s gone, then?”

“Yes. Gone for good.”

“Good. Good.”

Her eyes drifted shut for a moment, and he was afraid she’d fallen unconscious again. Although given how painful her injury must be, it might be a blessing.

Carefully, he attempted to lift her again. Her eyes snapped open.

“Please, Jensen, no.” Her plea nearly broke his heart. She was in a lot of pain. That was clear in her eyes.

“Sweetheart, I have to get you to the hospital.”

Her eyes widened and panic, true panic, filled them, just as they had the night of her fever. “No! No!”

She struggled, trying to sit up.

He gently held her down, trying to stop the worst of her struggling. “Elizabeth, stop. You are going to hurt yourself even worse.”

She did stop, but her eyes still pleaded with him. “No hospital. Promise me.”

He hesitated, taking in her pale skin and the sweat dampening her hair. She was in serious pain. Instead of answering her, he carefully slid an arm under her shoulders and lifted her. She moaned.

“Sorry, baby,” he whispered, then he carefully lifted her shirt to see if the bullet had gone straight through her shoulder. There was no exit wound.

He eased her back down.

“Elizabeth, I have to take you to the hospital. The bullet is still lodged in your shoulder. It has to be removed or it could get infected. It definitely won’t heal properly. Not to mention there could be damage to the bones and the nerves. You have to go.”

“No,” she said adamantly. “You can get the bullet out.”

He shook his head. “No, Elizabeth.”

“You are a vet. You can take care of me better than anyone at the hospital.”

Jensen frowned at her reasoning, a flicker of panic seizing him. A vet? What was she telling him? But he pushed the thought aside, scared of how pale she was. She did need help.

“Elizabeth,” he started, his voice coaxing, but she cut him off.

“If you take me to the hospital, I’ll leave the first time you turn your back.”

He stared at her, believing her.

He nodded. “Okay. But I’m going to move you upstairs.”

She nodded, and this time she didn’t make a sound as he lifted her. Probably another attempt to show him she didn’t need a hospital.

He brought her up to his bedroom. Granddad followed close behind, remaining silent.

He settled her on the bed, then turned to Granddad. “I need my bag. Could you get that for me? My bag is in my truck.”

Granddad nodded and left the room.

Jensen turned back to Elizabeth. “Okay, sweetheart, I’m going to have to get rid of your shirt.”

She nodded. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

He laughed at that. “Well, I have to admit I like it a lot more when I’m looking for other reasons.”

“Me, too,” she murmured.

He lifted her, working the t-shirt upward and over her good shoulder and her head; then he carefully eased it off the injured arm.

He gently settled her against the mattress, and pulled the sheet up over her chest. Her skin was burning hot, he realized. As hot as it had been that night at her house. This time, he worried that she already had an infection coursing through her body.

He left her just long enough to grab towels from the linen closet. When he came back into the room, the sight of her, almost gray against the white of his sheets, shook him. Her pallor shook him badly. What if he couldn’t do this? What if she died like Katie had?

He closed his eyes briefly, trying to get control of his doubts, of the absolute fear gripping him.

When he opened his eyes, Elizabeth was watching him. She offered him a small, pained smile.

“I must look really bad.”

He immediately shook his head. “No. No.”

He sat down beside her, careful not to jar the bed too much.

Granddad hurried back into the room carrying a tray, which was actually a cookie sheet, and Jensen’s medical bag.

Jensen thanked him, then searched his bag for a scalpel, long-handled tweezers, gauze, and antibiotics to pack the wound with once he had the bullet out.

Elizabeth watched him set everything out on the tray. She didn’t react to the use of the cookie sheet. If the makeshift operating room concerned Elizabeth, she didn’t show it.

He reached back into his bag for a topical anesthesia and a syringe. He tried not to let her see the syringe, but she did, again watching with no noticeable concern.

“Okay. I’m going to numb the skin around the wound before I give you the shot of a more powerful anesthesia.”

“Okay,” she said, closing her eyes. Somehow that made it easier for him to work. He hated looking into those pale blue depths, seeing complete trust there. It unnerved him.

He swabbed around the area, and then prepared the syringe.

“Okay, this will hurt a little.” He pierced the tip of the needle into the fragile flesh of her shoulder, hating to do it, but knowing it would be better than rooting around for the bullet without it.

She flinched and made a small hiss, but otherwise remained still.

“Okay, done. Now we’ll wait for that to numb up.”

She opened her eyes and offered him another feeble smile. “Not too bad, vet.”

He smiled at that. He looked around to see Granddad watching from the doorway. He smiled his encouragement, too.

“Okay.” Jensen tested the area. “Is it numbed?”

She nodded.

“Okay. He reached for the tweezers. As he got the instrument closer to the wound, he hesitated. Even with the numbing agent, she was going to feel discomfort, and it killed him to have to cause her any pain. But if he didn’t, she’d likely get an infection that could literally kill her.

He eased the instrument into the bullet hole, gently probing. Elizabeth made a slight gasp, but remained still. Her hand moved to his leg, her fingers bracing into the denim of his jeans.

“It’s okay. I’ll find it quickly. We’ll get this over with as fast as possible.”

He continued to soothe her, telling her she was doing great. That it would be just a few seconds more. And Elizabeth seemed to listen to him, taking comfort in his reassurances.

Finally he connected with something hard. He allowed the tweezers to open and clamped onto the solid mass. Gently he pulled and the item came out easily. He held up the tweezers to find a gray bullet there. Silently, he thanked God.

“That wasn’t so hard,” she murmured with another smile. He smiled back.

“Well, I had a great patient.”

Quickly, he packed the wound and bandaged it. Then he got her some pain meds-really designed for dogs and cats, but they would take the edge off her pain.

Once she was bandaged, medicated, and covered in several thick blankets, he left the room briefly just to clean up his instruments and change his own bloodied clothes.

Jensen quickly cleaned up, placing his items back in his bag; then he stripped off his soiled clothes to pull on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

When he got back to Elizabeth she was asleep. Her skin was still pale, but no longer gray. And when he touched her forehead, her skin was cooler. She still had a fever, but it wasn’t raging.

He pulled a chair to the edge of the bed and sank down onto it. He had to admit he was exhausted, but there was no way he was leaving her tonight. He didn’t understand what happened out there, but he knew he had to stay with her.

If anything, he felt more protective, more possessive of her now than he had before. Even as his mind swirled with confusion, with crazy thoughts that simply couldn’t be real.

He leaned forward and rested a hand on her belly, not sure why he needed to touch her there, but he did. And he felt great relief, because he knew she was safe. He’d kept her safe.

Elizabeth opened her eyes and realized her whole body ached as if she’d done an aerobics marathon. She blinked, not immediately recognizing where she was. Then she saw the football alarm clock and felt the burning itch in her right shoulder.

She struggled upright, searching the room for Jensen. As if he knew she was looking for him, he stepped into the room, wearing only a pair of low-slung jeans, toweling off his short, mahogany-brown hair.

“Hey,” he smiled, dropping the towel to his side as he saw she was awake.

She smiled. “Hi.”

He threw the towel onto a chair, which was already draped with a quilt and a pillow.

“I don’t think you should be up,” he said, walking over and touching her forehead. She knew her skin was cool from the relieved expression on his face.

“I feel okay,” she assured him.

He nodded, cocking one eyebrow as if to say he knew she had to be lying. But she did feel all right. The healing wound itched like crazy, and the lead from the bullet made it burn a little, too. But overall, she felt great.

Jensen’s fingers moved to the bandage covering the bullet wound. Carefully, he removed the gauze to inspect it. Surprise creased his brow as he frowned at the injury.

“It looks really good. I… ” He gently touched the edge where the skin already looked fully healed. “I can’t believe how good it looks, actually.”

She imagined that was true. The wound would mostly be gone by tomorrow, and how would she explain that? Maybe she should have made him leave the bullet lodged in her shoulder. Lead really interfered with a werewolf’s healing process. Silver would eventually kill, lead just made a big mess.

“I’ve always been a fast healer,” she told him weakly.

“I can see that.” He shook his head as he inspected it again, then replaced the gauze. He eased her back on the pillows. “But I still don’t think you should be up yet.”

She smiled, relaxing like a good, obedient patient.

He smiled back, but then the smile disappeared.

“Do you remember last night?”

Some of it. But how did she explain?

“There was a large, black animal out there last night,” he said, his voice oddly distant as if he still couldn’t really believe what he’d seen. She couldn’t blame him. Werewolves were hard to believe.

“You did see it?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No.” But she knew what he saw. And he’d seen her as a wolf, too. She knew it from his dazed look.

She started to sit up.

“Elizabeth, I really think you should lay back. You look pale.” Again he nudged her down among the pillows. She allowed him to, because she had no idea what else to do. And frankly, she was surprised he would touch her.

Oh God, this couldn’t be happening. Please, please don’t let this be happening.

“Elizabeth, I’m going to get you something to drink. And maybe some food. You’ve got to be hungry.”

For the first time since she could remember, she couldn’t imagine being able to swallow a bite.

But apparently Jensen took her dazed stare as consent, because he tucked the blankets around her, then left the room with the promise of something delicious.

She watched him go, unable to grasp what she knew was the truth. He’d seen her. He’d seen Brody. And somehow he’d survived. That much she was thankful-God, more than thankful-for.

She closed her eyes, swallowing back wave after wave of nausea.

Even if he could accept the truth, how could she throw him into the middle of this? Brody wouldn’t stop. Not for long.

She pulled a breath in slowly through her nose, then blew the air out from between her lips. She did it again, and again.

All she needed was to hyperventilate on him. He was the one who deserved to be overwhelmed.

It was… one day until the full moon. She had to tell him before then. He had to be prepared. He was going to hate her, but he had to know the truth.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the picture frame containing Jensen and the blonde, still facedown where it had been.

She picked it up, staring at the pretty face of the blonde. Her straightforward smile and clear blue eyes. She’d never have hurt Jensen. She’d have been the perfect mate- wife for him. She’d been exactly what she’d appeared to be. A nice, sweet girl who loved Jensen.

“Her name was Katie.”

Elizabeth’s head snapped up. Jensen stood in the doorway with a huge plate loaded with toast and eggs and bacon and sliced fruit.

When she just gaped at him, he seemed to think her shocked look was somehow related to the large quantity of food.

“Granddad is feeling a little guilt, so he had this waiting to go for when you woke up.”

She nodded, having no idea what to say to him. Tears choked her, but she managed to hold them back.

Jensen crossed to the bed and set the tray on her lap. She glanced at it, but then her gaze returned to him.

God, what did she say?

Jensen pulled up the chair, his expression one of heartbreaking understanding. An expression she so didn’t deserve.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you yesterday.”

Elizabeth frowned, then shook her head. What could he possibly be apologizing for? She was the one who needed to apologize. She was the one who’d deceived him. Put him in terrible danger.

“I didn’t want to tell you about Katie, but probably not for the reasons you think. In fact, definitely not for the reasons you think.”

She stared at him. Had it only been yesterday that they’d talked about Katie? Now, that seemed like ages ago, and she felt like she had even less right to know about it.

If anything, she wished Katie was still alive and that Jensen was with her now. Far from here, happy and safe.

“Katie and I were high-school sweethearts,” he said slowly. “We started dating our sophomore year. We left together after high school so I could attend Cornell. You saw in the picture. Katie didn’t have money for college, so she took classes and we planned she’d go full-time once I finished. We were… we were serious. Engaged.”

Even though she couldn’t put Jensen’s fate out of her mind, Elizabeth had to listen. She did want to know. She loved Jensen, she wanted to understand everything about him. Even though she knew that he would soon hate her.

“Katie had a rough home life. Raised by a single mother, who wasn’t the best parent, she couldn’t wait to leave West Pines behind. She craved a new life. So, after my second year of college, she was not pleased when I told her that I thought I’d like to move back here and take over my granddad’s practice.” He shook his head as he remembered, obviously disgusted with his behavior.

“But I was determined to do just that. She overheard me talking about my plan with some friends at a campus party. She was angry, because she felt like I’d betrayed her in a way. I was her escape route-she didn’t want to come back here. I knew that, yet I wanted what I wanted. We argued.”

Dread filled Elizabeth again. She knew this story didn’t have a happy ending, and she didn’t want him to have to live it again. She started to reach for him, but he stopped her.

“Please let me tell you.”

She still wanted to say no. She didn’t deserve to know. Not when she hadn’t told him so many truths about herself. But instead of stopping him, she nodded.

“I left the party to cool down, which I did. I don’t think I’d changed my mind, but I was calmer. So I decided to head back to the party to talk to Katie.

“As I approached the party, I saw a car off the road. The front end was crushed, wrapped around a tree. I pulled over and ran to the car.”

He shook his head again, his eyes distant like he was back there on that roadside.

“I couldn’t believe it when I got to the driver’s side and saw Katie there in the driver’s seat. She was pinned, the engine block pushed back and crushing her legs.”

This time Elizabeth did touch him, gripping his hand. Feeling sick for him. For that memory that had to be burned forever into his brain.

He squeezed her fingers back, then continued, “I couldn’t get her out. And I knew from the color of her skin, she didn’t have long. She was totally gray. I remember that. And I remember I just kept chanting, “I’m sorry. Oh, I’m sorry,” over and over again. But she never heard my apology. She never revived, and I could do nothing but hold her through the shattered window.”

“Oh, Jensen,” Elizabeth leaned forward and touched his face, his hair.

“I knew she’d hated this town. That she wanted nothing more than to leave and never look back. But I let my own dreams destroy hers.”

“It isn’t your fault,” Elizabeth assured him. “It was an accident.”

“I shouldn’t have been so selfish.”

His words hit her, reflecting her own feelings.

“You weren’t being selfish. You wanted something different. It could have been talked through, worked out. She was the one who chose to drive while she was upset. You can’t take that burden.” Elizabeth caught his face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. “I can’t tell you why it happened. But I know it wasn’t your fault. We all make mistakes, but the accident was not your fault.”

He stared into her eyes, then he kissed her. All his pain, all his guilt and regret in his harsh kiss. And she let him take his anguish out on her, feeling terrible anguish of her own.

Finally, his mouth gentled and he caressed her ravaged lips with so much tenderness that her eyes welled with tears. When he tasted the saltiness, he pulled back.

“Elizabeth?” His eyes roamed her face, trying to understand her tears.

She again held his face so she could look in his eyes.

“You mustn’t believe it was your fault. Please do that for me. You are too good and kind to carry that kind of guilt any longer. And Katie knew that. Why do you think she was in love with you? She knew. She did.”