Hotter Than Hell(165)

“Are you saying…”



“I’m not a killer,” he interrupted. “At least, not an indiscriminate one. Since ’41 I’ve killed three people. Two were trying to kill me. The other was a mistake.”



“A mistake?”



“I did not know my own strength.” His hands continued to arouse her, and his eyes held hers in the mirror. The flame there had died, but she did not fool herself into thinking it had never existed. “You have a choice to make. If you’d like I can pack my bags, change my name once again, and go somewhere so far away no one will ever find me. Say the word, and I’m gone.”



“I don’t want you to go!” she whispered, horrified at the idea that he might disappear from her life. “What’s the other choice?”



Simon lowered his head and nipped at her bare shoulder. “You know, Claire. You know. Come with me, if you dare. It’s your choice.”



“I don’t want you to go,” she said again. She didn’t want to go back to the life she’d lived before Simon had come into it.



“That’s not an answer,” he protested.



“There must be another way!” But she knew there was not. When I was bitten. I’m not a killer. Come with me.



Claire slowly tipped her head to one side. That was her answer. She would not lose Simon. Not now, not ever.



“Look,” he whispered.



His hands now rested against her bare stomach, and as she watched they began to change. Long nails grew in the blink of an eye, and hair sprang up on his arms, his hands, his face. What had been lean, pale muscle grew larger and was almost instantly covered with dark fur. The shape of his face changed from the handsome face she had come to love to one that was caught between man and wolf. The teeth that grew long and sharp were fierce, but the eyes were Simon’s. She knew those eyes.



He raked his fingers, his claws, across her belly. Sharp talons did not break the skin, but they did leave fine red marks in their wake. She looked so pale, so vulnerable, with those powerful claws moving against her flesh. And yet, she was not afraid.



“I’m no vampire,” Simon said, the voice his and yet not his. It was throatier. Deeper. Colored with the force of an animal even though he touched her with the gentleness of the man she loved. “Whiny bastards,” he added beneath his breath. “Look at me without flinching, without being filled with horror. Look at me and understand that if you choose me we will never have children. We will never make a home that will last more than a few years. For an eternity, we will only have one another. Still love me, Claire? Still want to come with me?”



Because she knew those eyes so well she saw the pain there. Simon thought she would say no, that she would be terrified by what he had become…what she would become if she joined him. She should be terrified, but she was not. In fact, she remained amazingly calm. The face of her lover was no longer beautiful, but it was still his face. He was a werewolf—a shapeshifter, a Jekyll and Hyde—a monster to the minds of most just as a vampire was a monster.



But in spite of his current appearance, Simon was the best man she had ever known. She loved him. He was hers.



She reached up and touched his head, surprised by the softness of the fur that met her hand. She gently but surely drew him down until his mouth touched her neck. That was all the answer she had to give.



It didn’t hurt much when he bit her, when his sharp teeth broke through the flesh at her neck. A heartbeat later she felt the power of the animal that was inside him enter her blood, rushing through her veins with a burning sensation that traveled quickly throughout her body, changing her. Feeding her. Making her stronger. Simon held her with tenderness, though his limbs looked as if they could not offer tenderness.



There was pain, as the burning increased, but Claire welcomed the pain as she welcomed the rush of energy and strength. A new element was added to her body, and it shook her to the core. She and Simon were completely joined, much as they had been during sex, and she dismissed everything but the way it felt to be held in this way, to be joined. To be bitten.



The teeth were withdrawn from her neck, and Simon became a man once again, quickly, smoothly, and completely. Again, he met her eye in the mirror.



“When?” she asked. “When will I change?” For a moment she felt a tickle of panic, but the panic did not take root. It did not last.



“Some changes will come to you immediately. Others will arrive with the rise of the next full moon.”



“Hey, wait a minute,” she blurted. “You changed and there’s no full moon tonight. I thought…”