Werewolves in London by Karilyn Bentley Page B

and Sam didn’t give his attentions easily. As far as Tom could see, Sam only liked him and his daughter Elizabeth. Until the sexy dog trainer stepped out of her red SUV, revealing jean-clad legs.
    Tom shook his head at the image that thought formed and picked up Layla to put her in the bed of his truck. Sam jumped in without being asked. Tom slammed the tailgate shut and started for the door.
    He didn’t have much time left before the remaining rays of sunlight slid behind the horizon. Gunning the engine, he started across his property, heading to the last hole the vandals had torn in his fence. They were getting braver; this spot was close to the house, almost within visual distance.
    So far the only evidence of the vandals’ activities was cut fences. His herd hadn’t been touched. The damage wasn’t even that extensive, nothing was stolen, so why were they bothering?
    The whole thing gave him a bad feeling. As if someone hunted him. Once he arrived at the damaged fence, he hopped out, leaving the dogs in the bed. Correction, Layla stayed in the back of the truck like a good girl. Sam saw the need to jump out and chase a rabbit.
    It was useless to call him back. Tom grabbed his tools and used the remaining sunlight to repair the hole in the barbed wire. He heard Sam barking in the distance, Layla whimpering in reply. The wire felt warm under his palm, through the leather glove. Perhaps his skills honed as a lad and unused since that time still worked. Tom closed his eyes, focusing on the heat, imagining who held the wire before him.
    It took a minute before the picture came to him, flashing in fast forward like a racecar, the colors a blur. Concentrating, he brought the whirling pictures into focus, slowing them down until he could make sense of them.
    Scents came first, the acid smell of fear, terror, and the sharp tang of blood. The wire dropped from his hand as he stumbled backward, his chest constricting, a tight belt suffocating him. He looked to the house, not seeing the structure, but seeing the light from it glowing on the horizon. A cold finger of darkness swept down his back as he saw in his mind’s eye Elizabeth running through the house, playing as ten-year-old girls were wont to do. Alone.
    Oh, God, no. Not Elizabeth.

Chapter 2
    Vonda slammed the car door and scurried up the steps to her house. Not much time left before the sun slid below the horizon and she needed to be in place when darkness hit. The moon wouldn’t rise until complete dark, but the change would happen promptly at sundown. All those rumors about werewolves changing when the full moon rose were a little off. Or at least they were off for her; she knew no other werewolves.
    Orphaned when she was two and raised by a foster family in Dallas, Vonda never knew about the wolf within her until puberty came and the change hit. The terror she felt that first time still haunted her. When most girls her age got cramps with their periods, she changed into a beast. Like she could discuss that one with her foster mom. Luckily that first time she didn’t share a bedroom and no one saw her. For three days around the full moon she changed into a wolf at sundown and back at sunrise.
    After that first time, she learned how to sneak out of the house and stay in the shadows. Winter was the worst, when the nights were long and darkness hit around five thirty. Lying became second nature, fear always present. When she turned eighteen and rented her own place, things became easier. She learned how to hunt, how to temper her amazing physical strength and what the auras around people meant.
    Just when she thought she had it all figured out, that being a werewolf was no different than having some strange disease, she went into heat.
    Intense sexual urges she couldn’t resist accompanied the heat cycle. Any man in her vicinity risked being used like a stud. Not that most men minded. Her ex sure didn’t. She, on the other hand, hated how she acted, hated having