"Make him go hungry, for starters. I've heard it's very painful."
"It is."
Phil tilted his head, studying her. "Maggie told me you used to go without. You made yourself suffer. Why?"
"I–I don't want to talk about it." Vanda walked across the room. "Is there a bathroom around here?"
"There's an outhouse behind the stable."
She scoffed. "You have a stable but not a bathroom?"
He shrugged. "The stable is empty. And I haven't needed a bathroom. I haven't been here in over four years."
"Why not?"
He gave her a wry look. "I don't want to talk about it."
"Well, aren't we a secretive pair?"
"Yeah, we are. I think it's time we had a long talk." He motioned to the couch just as his cell phone rang. "Hello?…Yeah, Howard. I'm sure Angus is beside himself. Any progress with the tracking device?"
While Phil talked, Vanda paced about. She really needed to go. Mortals didn't usually understand that, but a vampire only needed the red blood cells to survive. The plasma part of blood became waste, along with any added ingredients like the whiskey in Blissky.
She could find the outhouse on her own. She stepped outside onto a wide front porch. A cool breeze swept past her, making an old wooden rocker sway with a creak.
A small pasture spread out in front of the cabin. The full moon shone down, gilding the grass with a touch of silver. In the distance, a forest of tall trees reached to the clear, starry sky. The air was crisp and cool.
She rounded the cabin and saw the stable. It was almost as big as the cabin. She strode past it and found the outhouse. Just like the old days in Poland. She took a deep breath and did her business as quickly as possible. A roll of toilet paper sat on what looked like the end of an old broom handle.
She left the outhouse and strode past the stable, adjusting the whip around her waist. An eerie howl echoed around her. She gulped. Okay. So there might be a wolf or coyote in the woods. That was normal for Wyoming, right? She hurried around to the front of the cabin.
Was that something moving out of the woods? She inched toward the front porch steps.
Another movement captured her attention. And another. Animals. Perhaps a dozen. They moved from the dark shade of the trees and into the moonlit pasture. She stiffened.
Wolves.
The moonlight gleamed off their silver gray coats. They slowly stalked toward her. Their eyes glinted. Their teeth were bared. A low growl rumbled across the pasture, freezing her with fear.
Light spilled suddenly onto the porch. Phil had opened the door.
"Vanda, come inside," he said quietly.
She willed her feet to move but they remained frozen to the ground. The nightmare was back. She was hunted once more. And the wolves had been sent to kill her.
They inched closer. Her heart stilled. This was it. They would kill her.
"Shit." Phil strode down the porch steps and into the pasture. "Go inside, Vanda."
She jolted out of the fear that had paralyzed her. Oh God, no! Phil would try to protect her just like Karl had. The wolves would kill him.
She ran to him and grasped his arm. "Come with me. Hurry."
He peeled her hand off. "I'll handle this. Trust me. Now go inside." He pushed her gently toward the stairs.
She hurried up the steps. The wolves howled. With a shudder, she turned to watch.
Phil had pulled off his shirt. All the cuts on his torso had healed. How had he managed that? His body began to shimmer.
She gasped. What was he doing?
The wolves charged.
Phil spread his arms wide, threw his head back, and howled.
Vanda stumbled back, knocking against the cabin wall. Light from the open door illuminated Phil. Fur sprouted across his back and shoulders, then spread down his arms. His hands turned into paws with long sharp claws. His head crackled, the jaw elongating into a long snout.
The wolves stopped in their tracks and hunched down to the ground. They were afraid, Vanda realized. But not as terrified as she was.
Phil was a werewolf.
CHAPTER 19
Time came to a screeching halt. Vanda couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. She was plastered against the cabin wall, unable to move.
A werewolf. Her beautiful Phil was a werewolf.
She began to shake. Panic swirled in her gut, then shot through her chest and erupted from her mouth with a strangled cry.
The werewolf turned to her. How many times had she seen those vicious jaws and snapping teeth? Always coming after her. Hunting her relentlessly.