Half Wolf. Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

was seeping through curtains or shutters.

      She withheld a shout of relief. Daylight would chase the nightmares away; keep the horrors out of reach.

      Any time now.

      “Hospitals are out of the question,” her host continued. “I’m afraid they don’t deal well with people like us. Their physicians wouldn’t know what to do or what we’d need.”

      People like us. Kaitlin hoped to God he meant doctorate students without health insurance. She hoped with all her might this guy would turn out to be from the campus police.

      She was twenty-three years old and felt terribly small and inadequate. More than anything, she wanted to hear her parents’ voices. Without the people she loved, sunlight and fresh blankets weren’t completely normal things or as comforting as they could be.

      She fought back tears.

      Squeaking bedsprings made her heart flutter. Her center of gravity shifted as the man behind her moved on the bed.

      “You will heal, though it will take some time. The worst is over, but there will be more trials to come. That can’t be helped. That’s just the way it is.”

      “No,” Kaitlin sputtered with a ferocious effort. No more of this.

      “Luckily, you rode some of this out while unconscious. Our bodies are quick to repair and you’ll soon find this to be true. Your body is trying to adapt right now.”

      Kaitlin moved her lips. “Thank you.”

      This had to be the man who had come to her aid in the park, and had put her on a blanket. Whatever else came to pass, she was grateful for that.

      “You’re welcome,” he said hesitantly, sounding both relieved and wary.

      “Angel,” she managed to get out, her throat throbbing like crazy with each uttered syllable. “You?”

      His response came in the form of a deep cascade of laughter that sent more dust motes dancing. “No angel,” he said. “Not by a long shot. I’m Michael. Can you tell me your name?”

      “Kaitlin.”

      “Right now you’re still very sick, Kaitlin. But it’s a new day and you’re mending.”

      Taking a chance, encouraged by his kind words, Kaitlin unfurled her fingers slowly, glad when they soaked in the blanket’s softness.

      “Don’t worry about anything right now,” Michael soothed. “Rest. Heal some more. Get used to what’s going on in your body.”

      Squeezing her eyes shut, Kaitlin whispered, “Afraid.”

      “I know.”

      “Home.”

      “In a while,” he said.

      “Home,” she repeated.

      “As soon as you’re feeling better, I’ll take you there.”

      His words were immensely reassuring. Why, though, when he could have an agenda of his own?

      “Sleep now,” he suggested. “Heal.”

      “Heal,” Kaitlin echoed, wondering how she could sleep when she had been mauled by a monster and nearly killed. She would be screaming right now if her throat worked properly, and be running if she had the use of her legs.

      “Sleep a while longer,” he directed with a lulling, rolling purr. “You’re safe here. No one will harm you while I stand guard.”

      Hell. Did she need guarding? If so, did it mean the monster that had nearly killed her might come after her again? Having sampled a taste, would he seek her out?

      The roaring noise in her ears was like distant engines getting progressively closer. She actually felt her brain go dark. And for the second time in Kaitlin Davies’s personal history, she just...slid...away.

      * * *

      She ran.

      Barefoot. With the night wind on her body and moonlight in her hair. Sucking in air. Devouring the night. Blood pumping wildly in her veins.

      Stars were luminous overhead. The night tasted like licorice and smelled like old wood. Running through the dark, inhaling it, Kaitlin felt driven, free, uninhibited and exceptionally fast. She felt joyously different somehow. More alive.

      Noises followed her as she moved: a creak of branches, the rustle of leaves. Close behind those things came other sounds, like the racing beats of her heart and the snap of overextended muscle and bone. Each movement she made was a symphony.

      Trees were dark shapes she rushed past. She knew them all, could name them and count the animals sheltering beneath. She could see in the dark. Outlines, shapes, were clear and slightly alien.

      She wasn’t alone. Someone ran with her, his strides in sync with hers. They moved as a single unit, in silence, with some distance between them.

      Her companion called out once with a word Kaitlin didn’t recognize, though she chased the sound of his voice into an open field. And suddenly, Kaitlin no longer felt sure of foot. She stumbled, teetered, struggled with her legs. Faltering, she fell to her hands and knees, sliding several inches, carried forward by momentum.

      Strong hands yanked her upright, spun her around and lifted her off the ground as though she were as light as a cloud. Whoever this was carried her into the shadow of nearby tree cover and dropped her onto her feet. Warm hands pressed her to the bark of the closest tree in a hazy repeat of another time and place she couldn’t quite recall.

      “Not so fast,” her companion advised.

      The body leaning into hers was male, extremely warm and completely naked, though she didn’t glance down to make sure of that. He was tall and light-skinned, with features that gave him a regal air, and rippling abs of steel.

      “Take your time,” this naked man advised.

      His dark chin-length hair brushed her face, sending meaningful vibrations downward and toward a spot between her thighs. Bursts of energy spiraled outward from a spark deep inside her—barely containable energy. Highly unstable stuff.

      Kaitlin couldn’t keep her legs still, or her arms. It felt as though her internal engine’s idle had been set too high and she waited nervously at a starting line for the gun to go off.

      Did she know this man beside her? Her body did. She had a new and raging hunger for him that added to her shakes. She wanted to crawl under his skin and stay warm. The desire came to nip at his marvelously sculpted chest, half of which was etched with spirals of inky-black tattoos that swirled each time he moved.

      Being with this guy felt exquisitely erotic, even though somewhere inside her mind red warning flags were waving with questions about who he really was and what she was doing here.

      “Have to move. Have to run,” she said breathlessly.

      His piercing green gaze held her captive. “Go ahead. Run,” he said, beaming silent messages Kaitlin swore she understood in some strangely telepathic way. “Stay close to the tree cover tonight. Taking small steps is the way to go.”

      The gravelly quality of his voice sent a cascade of thrills through her that set off another adrenaline rush. Her body was responding to this guy’s closeness as though she knew him better than she should and much more than she recalled. Or maybe her anxiousness was translating this dream into some kind of twisted sexual wishful thinking, because she had a nearly overwhelming desire to trace those inky tats with her tongue.

      “I’m fast,” she said, exhaling pent-up steam.

      “And cocky for a newbie,” he countered. “Hell, you’re only two days old.”

      “I merely stumbled.”

      “You’ll do so again if you don’t listen. Your muscles have to get with the program.”

      Kaitlin