She dashed into the cabin and slammed the door shut. With trembling hands she slid the bolt across the door. She stepped back, her knees shaking. Her gaze darted to the windows. He could crash right through the glass. That's how the wolves had invaded the safe house where she and Karl had taken shelter. The wolves had ripped him apart.
Footsteps pounded up the porch steps. Vanda stepped back. Her heart raced, thundering in her ears.
The doorknob turned. The door shook. She pressed a hand to her mouth as a terrified sob escaped.
"Vanda." His voice was soft. "Let me in."
She moved back. Thoughts jumbled in her head. She'd never heard of a werewolf who could talk. Or turn a doorknob. He had to be human.
But she'd seen him change. Or rather, she'd seen half of him change. He'd definitely had the head of a wolf. And the teeth.
Dammit, how could he do this to her? Rage flooded through her, a welcome relief from the terror that had made her weak.
"Go away!" she screamed.
The door shook again. "We need to talk."
"Go to hell!" Dammit. She'd made love to him. She'd let him inside her body. Inside her heart. A sense of betrayal twisted in her gut. First her sister, and now Phil.
She wanted to throw something. Rip something apart. She spotted the wooden ladder propped against the loft, the same ladder Phil had inserted through the trapdoor to descend into the cellar. She kicked a boot through some wooden rungs, then grasped the ladder in her hands and snapped it in two.
"Vanda."
She spun toward his voice. He'd raised a window and was peering in at her. How dare he look so normal? He'd completely fooled her.
"As your anger management sponsor, I have to say—"
"Leave me alone!" She hurled a splintered piece of wood at him.
He dodged the missile and it flew through the window. He peered inside again. "We're going to talk. There's no escaping it."
No escape? She opened the trapdoor and floated down into the cellar. She paced back and forth. She could teleport away, but where? Her apartment wasn't safe. The Carpathian Mountains were probably in daylight. London might be, too, so that left out Pamela and Cora Lee. She had no idea where Ian and Toni were. Maggie?
Vanda winced. She was still on that hit list. She couldn't put Maggie and her family in danger. But wasn't there a cave on their property? She could hide there. Unfortunately, she'd never been to Maggie's ranch, so she didn't know the way. She needed to call. She needed Phil's cell phone.
"Vanda, come back."
She glanced at the trapdoor. Phil was there.
She scanned the cellar and spotted a shovel. That would keep him away. Keep his paws off her. She grasped the handle.
He jumped. Her heart clenched as she watched. He landed, his cowboy boots hitting the wooden floor with a thud, his knees bending to absorb the shock.
He straightened slowly. The jeans hung low on his hips. His bare torso and chest rippled with muscles. Oh God, how she had loved his hard chest and broad shoulders. There was no trace of the injuries he'd suffered the night before.
His thick brown hair gleamed in the light that filtered down from the open trapdoor. Highlights of gold and auburn glinted. His pale blue eyes watched her, glimmering with strong emotion.
He was so gorgeous. How could he be a werewolf? And how could he be human now? The only time she had seen a wolf change back to human form was when Karl had killed one. As far as she knew, once a werewolf became a wolf, it stayed that way for the entire night. She'd certainly never seen one that could change only half of its body.
She pointed the shovel at him. "What are you?"
His gaze flitted to the shovel, and his mouth thinned. "I'm Phil Jones, the same man I was yesterday." He stepped toward her.
"Stay back!" She raised the shovel. "What are you?"
His chin lifted. "I'm an Alpha werewolf. I can change completely or partially whenever I wish, day or night. I have super strength and speed and heightened sensibilities. If I'm cut, I can change and instantly be healed. I can call on the power of my inner wolf without changing physical form. And one more thing…"
He leaped toward her so quickly, she barely had time to jab the shovel at him. He grasped the handle and yanked, pulling her toward him. In a tug of war, she dug in her heels and pulled the handle back. He yanked even harder, throwing her off balance. When she stumbled forward, he tossed the shovel aside, swung an arm around her and slammed her hard against his chest.
"One more thing," he growled. "I love you."
She shoved at his chest. "Let go of me. You—You lied to me."