Page 29 of Patrick’s Seduction (Scanguards Vampires #19)

29

T he sound of the front door closing was followed by a cold wind gust reaching her as she walked down the stairs with Patrick. A beautiful young woman rushed toward them, her long dark hair flying in all directions, making Fallon freeze on the final step. As if the woman hadn’t even seen her, she threw herself into Patrick’s arms, pressing her body to his, imprisoning him in her embrace.

At the sight, rage charged through her, and she could feel her jaw tightening. Pain shot into her fingers, a sign she recognized from when she’d shifted into her wolf form. She was about to do the same now, because of this woman who embraced Patrick. In the same moment, she realized that the feeling that was urging her to shift wasn’t rage but jealousy. How dare this woman touch the man she loved?

Mine.

With that thought, a growl dislodged from her throat, and her skin began to prickle, making her aware that fur was starting to cover her arms, growing thicker with every second.

“Oh my God, you’re hurt!” the woman cried out.

“I’m fine, Isa,” Patrick replied, but didn’t step out of the embrace.

Fallon issued another warning growl, and finally, the woman met her gaze. She was a vampire with the same kind of aura that Patrick had, different from the other two vampires. Was she his girlfriend, or why else would she be so concerned for his wellbeing, and hugging him so tightly?

“Take your hands off him!” Fallon ground out and glared at her.

The woman glared back. “You hurt him!”

Finally, Patrick freed himself from her arms and turned. “Fallon, meet my sister, Isabelle.”

Despite the relief she felt at that revelation, the wolf inside her was still demanding to be released, because Isabelle displayed anger that was directed at her. Before she could make a step toward her, Patrick stopped her with an outstretched arm.

“Easy, both of you. And Isa, no, Fallon didn’t hurt me.”

“That neck wound says otherwise,” Isabelle pointed out.

“It’s no worse than a vampire’s bite.”

Fallon caught his smile as he looked back at her.

“And just as enjoyable.”

At his tender words, she felt the pressure in her jaw release and her human side take over again, pushing back the wolf for now. But she knew it couldn’t be suppressed for long. Her shift had been painful and involuntary. The moon was ruling her. She could feel it in her bones, her cells, every inch of her body. It made her aware of the dangers around her and the need to protect herself. It was hard to suppress the instinct she felt when faced with a vampire, the instinct to fight for her life. She’d never felt so out of control, so uncivilized, so animalistic.

Patrick’s voice pulled her from her thoughts. “Baby, everything’s alright.” He took her hand again. “Let’s talk.”

Hesitantly, she allowed him to lead her to the living room, Isabelle following them. There, the men who’d intruded on their lovemaking were waiting for them, all three pacing impatiently. When they entered through the open archway, three sets of eyes landed on her. They were sizing her up, assessing whether she posed a threat right now, and she knew she was doing the same, her eyes roaming their bodies, looking for weapons or any sign of aggression toward her. The bald one, Zane, had the most hostile look of the three. Amaury and Wesley looked almost calm, but she knew that underneath it, they were both ready to spring into action if they believed they were in danger.

It was odd how she was looking at everything now, at the other doors in the room that could provide an easy escape, and at items like candlesticks and bookends that would lend themselves as weapons to defend herself with. She felt hypervigilant and more alert than ever before. As if she was on speed or some other drug that raised her level of awareness. She realized now that her complaints from the previous night were all precursors to the enhanced senses that being a werewolf had gifted her with. Not that she would call them gifts.

“Why don’t we sit down?” Patrick suggested.

Amidst a few grunts and some grumbling, Patrick pulled her next to him on a two-seater couch, while Amaury and Wesley sat on the large sectional, and Isabelle took a seat in an armchair. Only Zane remained standing, and somehow, she had guessed that he wouldn’t want to give up his superior position, which allowed him to react faster than those seated. Smart. She had to give him that.

“Let me first bring Fallon up to speed,” Patrick said with a quick look at his colleagues, before looking back at her. “I found out last night that Cameron is a werewolf. That’s why I brought you here and had you protected twenty-four-seven.”

Her eyes widened, and her chin dropped, while her heart beat into her throat. “And you didn’t tell me? You could have warned me.”

He reached for her hand. “It was too late by then. He’d already attacked you at the hospital, and what would you have said if I’d told you then that he’s a werewolf?”

“I would—” She stopped herself. She would have thought he was crazy.

He sighed. “Exactly. You wouldn’t have believed me. You had no reason to.” He took a visible breath. “I’m sorry, Fallon, it’s my fault that I didn’t figure this out earlier. And had I known that he’d bitten or scratched you in order to turn you into a werewolf, I would have…” Again, he hesitated.

She shook her head. “You wouldn’t have been able to do anything, would you?” She shifted her gaze to the other people in the room. “This is irreversible, isn’t it? I’ll be a werewolf from now on, won’t I?”

She didn’t know from where she took the strength to even utter those words. She sounded so calm in her own ears, when everything inside her was whirling around like her insides were in a blender, and somebody had flicked the switch.

When only silent stares came as answers, she shook her head again as if she could shake the truth off like a nightmare.

“I can’t do this. I can’t be this.” She slapped her hands against her chest. “This… this animal inside me… I don’t want to be this.”

She felt fresh tears rise, but pushed them down, not wanting to cry in front of these strangers. She wanted to retain as much dignity as she could. If she had any left. After all, the three men had seen her naked in bed with Patrick. It couldn’t get any more embarrassing than that. Oh, yes, it could: they had seen her shift into her wolf form, and she was certain that sight was anything but pretty. A mass of flesh, bones, skin, and hair all being jumbled up and rearranged couldn’t be something anybody would want to watch. She felt disgusted at the thought. It had been the moment where she’d felt the most out of control. As if somebody else was controlling her body. Because somebody was: the wolf.

“We don’t know yet whether there’s anything that can be done,” Patrick said, his voice soothing. “Wes?”

The male witch sat up a little straighter. “I’m not sure. But Charles and I can definitely do some research. See if there’s a spell or something.”

She watched him, but they all knew it: Wesley didn’t have much hope of finding anything to turn her back into a human.

She let out a cry. “Why? Why did he do that to me? Why did Cameron do this?”

She felt Patrick’s hand on hers again. “Because he wanted you as his mate. And deep down he knew that you wouldn’t accept him. But as a new werewolf, you need the protection of his pack and the guidance that only another werewolf can provide you with. By turning you, he wanted to make sure you needed him.”

She swallowed hard. “That’s what he said. You’ll need me . He said it that night, and he said it again later. It was always his plan, wasn’t it?”

“I believe so. At least after you broke up with him. It made him desperate.”

“He would have done it anyway,” Amaury added, drawing her attention to him.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“From the little I know about werewolves, I know how they mate. The male bites the female during sex. So, if they mate with a human, it would turn the human into one of them—if she survives it.”

The words hung there in the silence that followed. Her gaze ping-ponged back from Amaury to the others. “But you must know more. I mean, none of you is human. You must know more.”

“Vampires and werewolves have never been on a great footing,” Amaury said. “We’re natural enemies, and—”

“Amaury!” Patrick interrupted.

“Well, it’s the truth,” he said defensively, before casting an apologetic glance back at her. “I’m sorry, but that’s just how it is. Of course, we won’t hurt you, because… well, because we can see you don’t want to harm Patrick. But not every vampire out there is gonna feel the same.”

She nodded. She understood what he was trying to tell her. “So, because you’re natural enemies, you don’t know anything else about werewolves?”

“Other than a silver bullet to the head kills ‘em for sure?” Zane interjected, his voice as cold as ice.

A cold shiver ran down her spine, chilling her to the core.

“Shut up, Zane!” Patrick snapped. “There’s no need for that.”

The bald vampire shrugged as if the reprimand hadn’t even touched him. “Just saying.”

“We need to find out more about werewolves, do some research,” Patrick suggested.

“I’ll contact Samson,” Amaury said.

“No!” Patrick’s protest came as if fired from a gun. “That’s not necessary. He can’t do anything we can’t do ourselves. Everybody who’s been working on the Presidio murder case will work on this now.”

Her forehead furrowed, and she looked at him from the side. “But that’s a murder case you need to solve…”

Patrick shook his head. “It’s already solved. Cameron killed the jogger in the Presidio. He ripped his heart out, and we have to assume that he ate it.”

Her stomach flipped, and nausea overcame her all of a sudden. Cameron had killed somebody? And eaten his victim’s heart? There was only so much she could handle, and this went far beyond the threshold she believed she had. She jumped up, holding her hand to her stomach, trying to hold down the little that she had in it. She saw no other choice but to hurry out of the room. Relieved that she knew where the powder room was, she almost kicked the door in and bent over the toilet bowl. Just in time.

Somebody followed her, reaching her just as she began to retch.

“I’ve got you.”

It was Isabelle who reached for her hair now and held it back. Fallon threw up the little food she had in her stomach, while fear and disgust gripped her. She was a monster now, a monster that killed people and ate their hearts. How long would she be able to fight against what she was now? When would she start killing innocent people?

She couldn’t live like that. No, she would rather die than be a killer.