Possessed by a Wolf. Sharon Ashwood
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as if he was alone in the car.
Who was this guy? Her fear was draining away, pushed out by a rising anger. She’d been dragged out of her bed, questioned, locked up and now run off the road. If the driver hadn’t been flat on the ground already, she was furious enough to put him there. She marched toward the sedan, wanting answers.
Faran kicked a stone toward the unconscious man. The prone figure didn’t flinch. “Take the gun and cover him,” he said to Lexie. “I’ll check for a pulse.”
“I hate guns.” And she was in no mood to take orders. Despite Faran’s protest, Lexie came forward and crouched, pressing her fingers to the man’s neck. She gasped and yanked her hand away. “He’s icy cold!”
His gun still aimed at the man’s skull, Faran bent and felt for himself. His mouth flattened into a grim line. “This one’s been dead awhile. No wonder his driving sucked.”
“Is he one of yours?” Lexie asked in a tight voice.
“I don’t recognize him,” Faran replied. “Besides, he followed us from the palace. Vampires are banned from there now and, in case you hadn’t noticed, it’s broad daylight. Not even the old ones like moving around in full sun. This one has a tan.”
“Are you saying he’s not a vampire? Then what is he, a zombie?”
“He doesn’t smell bad enough.” Faran holstered his gun. “Stand back while I turn him over.”
This time Lexie didn’t argue, and she retreated a step. The countryside fell eerily silent. Only the ping of the cooling engines interrupted the shushing breeze. “Why do you think he followed us?”
“That depends on who he’s working for.” Faran grabbed the man’s hip and shoulder and flipped him so that he was faceup. The limbs splayed lifelessly. Faran gave him a critical look, then bent and peeled back his upper lip. There were no fangs. “Not a vampire for sure. Let’s look for a name.”
“I’ll check his pockets,” Lexie said. “You take the car.”
Faran raised an eyebrow, but left her to it. Caution and curiosity warred inside Lexie. She folded her arms, fingers curling into fists as she knelt beside the man. There was something compelling about the still form, which was why she wanted to be the one to check him over. Maybe it was because she finally had the upper hand in this bizarre chain of events. Maybe it was because she felt as though she was on the brink of an understanding she couldn’t define. The guy was weirdly familiar. Not his face but...
She gave up trying to capture the thought and got to work. Gingerly, she reached over and pulled his wallet from his pants pocket, snagging a wrapper for salted peanuts along with it. He must have been a pack rat, because the wallet was stuffed with more wrappers and receipts. There was a Vidonese driver’s license showing the same bland, round, brown-haired face.
“His name is Serge Gillon and he’s thirty-two,” she said.
Faran looked up from searching through the sedan. “Probably fake but it’s a start.”
Out of force of habit, Lexie pulled out her phone and snapped pictures of Gillon, the cars and the scene. She knew she’d forget half the detail any other way. She pocketed her phone again and tried to stuff the wallet back into his jacket pocket. A crumpled snack food bag blocked the way—apparently Gillon liked salty treats. She tossed that aside and tried again. As she reached into the satin lining of the pocket one more time, her fingers brushed something cold and metallic. With a sudden leap of suspicion, she grasped the metal object and plucked it free.
“Faran!” Her brain stalled as she gaped at Amelie’s ring. Dumbfounded, she staggered to her feet, holding it up to the sunlight. The rubies sparkled like fresh blood. She slid the band over her finger, afraid she’d drop it otherwise.
Faran stepped over Gillon’s body and grasped her hand, angling it to see the ring better. There was a flash of bloodred fire. “That’s the ring, all right. There can’t be two sets of rubies like that.” They stood like that for a long moment, hand in hand but for all the wrong reasons.
Finally, Faran spoke again. “Who was this guy and why did he have the ring?”
Lexie didn’t have a chance to reply. With a sudden grunting roar, Gillon surged from the dirt and grabbed Faran from behind. Faran’s eyes widened with surprise, but he twisted in the dead man’s grasp and grappled with him. With a snarl, Faran rammed Gillon against the tree with enough force that Lexie heard a crunch of splintering wood. It would have knocked an ordinary human senseless, but Gillon just wrapped his hands around Faran’s throat and started to squeeze.
Lexie had no weapon, so she dove for the cars to find one. The trunk of the sedan had popped open in the crash so she scrabbled inside, peeling up the carpet and grabbing the tire iron. She took a two-handed grip and whirled to face the two men.
Whatever Gillon was, he was as powerful as a werewolf. Faran was wrestling himself free of the choke hold, but it was taking all his strength. Gillon had him against the tree now, and Faran’s hands were on the man’s shoulders, holding him off. A fierce, feral snarling came from the combatants, but Lexie could not be sure which one was making the sound.
Faran’s foot snaked out, hooking Gillon’s knee. Gillon stumbled and Faran pounced, but the dead man kicked, launching Faran through the air. With animal grace, Faran twisted in the air, landing on all fours. Rocks and leaves skidded from beneath his feet, but he was up in an instant, braced for the next attack.
It came with terrible ferocity. Gillon bounded through the air, arms and legs arched the way a leaping spider splays its legs. His lips drew back from his teeth in a savage rictus. He might not have had fangs, but it was no less threatening.
But just as he leaped, Lexie skidded forward and swung the tire iron, putting all the weight of her body into the motion. It caught Gillon right in the ribs with a loud crack. For a moment, she thought the sound was her shoulder joints separating as the force of the impact shuddered all the way to her spine. But then Gillon seemed to fold in midair, ripping the iron from her hands as he fell.
That gave Faran all the time he needed to draw his weapon. The instant Gillon hit the ground, Faran fired two shots into his skull. The sound tore through Lexie, but that was not what shocked her most.
Gillon’s head exploded. Instantly, an acid smell hit Lexie’s senses, making her cough. Through stinging eyes, she could see the shadow of his bones appear through his flesh. As she blinked, the shadow grew darker, seeming to pulse from behind skin that grew more and more translucent. His hands and the remnants of his face—anywhere flesh showed from beneath his clothes—quivered like something made of gelatin. And then, with a sickening slurp, Gillon’s flesh oozed away into a glistening, yellowish puddle. A moment later, bones, clothing and even Faran’s bullets dissolved in an ashy smoke.
“That’s new,” Faran said, his voice brittle with disgust.
Lexie’s lips moved in a silent curse. She took a step toward Faran. His arm circled her waist and pulled her away from the smoking ruin. He’d gone pale, but his hand was firm and warm against her. They stopped a few yards away, Lexie stumbling against Faran. She leaned into him, grateful for the solid wall of his body. Lexie wanted to bury her face against him like a child and wish the world away, but instead she simply stood with her head bowed, her back against his chest. His support, at least, was something she could accept.
For that instant, she could almost believe that everything would be all right. They’d stopped fighting each other and conquered a common enemy. But now her nerves were jittering, flooding every muscle with the need to move. She curled her fingers, nails biting into the palms of her hands. It was as if a spring was overwound inside her and fighting that energy would only make her crack.
In the distance, Lexie heard the wail of distant sirens. Had somebody on one of the nearby farms heard the gunshots? “Do you think that’s the police? Are they coming for us?”
“Do you feel like trusting our luck?” Faran replied in a weary tone.
She