Scarlet Heat Read online

  But before he could go on, I heard a rising shout from among the assembled weres around the large flat rock. I looked at them uncertainly but they were all looking back at us—or at Victor, rather. They were pointing and backing away, naked fear on their faces.

  “The curse! He’s got the fucking curse!” one of them shouted and then the others took up the cry.

  “The curse! A cursed one among us!”

  I whipped my head back to look at Victor and saw that the weres holding him had done as LeeAnn demanded and ripped away his shirt entirely. There was a circle of light about the size of a baseball stamped on his lower back and it was glowing the same scarlet red as his eyes. There was some kind of writing in it—something in a cursive, foreign script I couldn’t read, though when I closed my eyes for a moment, the strange letters seemed stamped on my brain.

  Pack Master Wainright saw the circle of light at the same time I did. His eyes got wide and he took two steps forward, grabbed LeeAnn by the arm and yanked her away.

  “No!” she protested, trying to get back to Victor. “I’m not done yet, Daddy! I haven’t punished him enough.”

  “He’s cursed, LeeAnn! Step away, for God’s sake. Come on!” He dragged his daughter—who seemed to be the only one in the pack who didn’t understand the situation—away from Victor.

  “Pack Master…” Victor’s voice was a low, inhuman growl. It didn’t sound like him—not at all. Not even his wolf form sounded like that. What the hell was going on?

  “We’re sorry.” Wainright was backing away with his struggling daughter firmly in tow. “We didn’t know, Victor. We’ll leave you alone from now on, I swear.” He looked at the weres still holding him. “Let him go. All of you, let him go and get out of here.”

  The weres holding Victor didn’t have to be told twice. They backed away from him warily, obviously trying to gauge the minimum safe distance they could reach before turning and running.

  The weres holding me melted away too, as did the watching crowd. They faded into the surrounding trees and underbrush, leaving only the stink of wet dog behind to show they had ever been there.

  At last Victor and I were the only ones left. We stood alone on the large, flat rock, not speaking. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, couldn’t stop wondering what was happening—what he was becoming.

  But whatever it was, I didn’t care. The blood streaming down his back and shoulders looked black in the moonlight. When trickles of it reached the glowing circle at his lower back, they hissed and steamed, as though the blood had touched a hot frying pan or griddle. The sight made me tremble but he had been wounded for my sake and I knew I had to heal him.

  “Victor,” I said, going to him.

  His hand shot out, as though to fend me off.

  “No. Stay away.” His voice still had that rough, unearthly quality to it, the grating, gravelly tone that wasn’t animal or human but something strangely in between. His face had broadened, the cheekbones and forehead spreading and by the flash of moonlight on his teeth, I saw that his fangs had grown longer too—almost as long as mine. Something was definitely wrong with him—he looked frightening, almost like something out of a nightmare. But I refused to let myself be scared off.

  “I can’t stay away,” I told him, hoping my voice didn’t shake too much. “You…you’re hurt—I need to heal you.”

  “Don’t, Taylor.” He looked at me, his eyes still burning scarlet. “Don’t touch me. The whip…think it had something on it. I’m dangerous right now. I’ll hurt you.”

  “No, you won’t,” I said with absolute certainty. No matter what form he took, he would never harm me—I was sure of that. I just needed to get over his frightening appearance and remember what a sweet, wonderful guy was underneath. “Just let me look at your back,” I told him, trying to sound professional.

  “No,” he protested but didn’t move when I went around behind him. His big hands were clenched into fists at his sides and every muscle in his large frame was tensed. It was almost as though he was braced for flight, like he wanted to run away from me but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. As though something about me was holding him in place against his will. “No,” he almost groaned again and I heard him inhale deeply as the wind gusted around us. Was he scenting me?

  Then I got a closer look at his injuries and all other questions and worries slipped from my mind. He was a patient—someone in pain I needed to treat.

  “God, your poor back,” I whispered. The silver whip had really shredded his skin. A surge of anger washed over me and I knew if LeeAnn had been standing in front of me I would have done my level best to rip her face off.

  “Just leave it,” Victor grated. “Not safe. Let it heal…on its own.”

  “Why?” I said. “What haven’t you told me? What is this all about?” I brushed my fingertips lightly over the glowing red circle at the small of his back. It was like touching live coals—the heat burned my fingers.

  Victor hissed and rounded on me suddenly. He caught my offending hand in his grip and held me by the wrist, hard enough to make the bones ache.

  “Don’t,” he snarled, his eyes flashing. “Don’t ever fucking touch me there—understand?”

  “No,” I snapped back. “No, I don’t understand. What’s going on with you, Victor—and don’t say it’s moon sickness. What the hell is this curse they were all talking about?”

  “You don’t need to know.” He dropped my hand and took a deep breath. “Just…just stay away from me.”

  “No, I won’t!” I stepped toward him again and managed to get behind him before he could stop me. “Not until I heal your back—this will cause a permanent scar if I don’t.”

  “You can’t do that,” he protested, trying to turn around. But I had my hands planted firmly on his broad, bare shoulders and I turned with him, as graceful, for once, as a dancer.

  “I won’t let you be scarred for my sake,” I told him. Leaning forward, I dragged the flat of my tongue over his wounded back.

  “No!” Victor jerked away from me but the damage was already done.

  I tasted his blood and the bright, metallic flavor of the metal lash that had wounded him but there was something else in it as well. Something strange and insidious—a kind of poison that started to work on me at once.

  “Oh,” I gasped, letting go of his shoulders and stumbling back a step. “Oh God, what…?”

  “Taylor? Baby?” Victor turned and caught me before I fell, his scarlet eyes filled with worry. “You shouldn’t have done that—I shouldn’t have let you get close enough to do it.”

  “It’s…I don’t…I can’t…” I couldn’t think what I wanted to say. All I could think about was how good Victor smelled—his warm, masculine scent like fur and leather and musk was so strong, so enticing. And the male desire I smelled under it seemed to match my own.

  The heat hit me like a freight train, knocking me off balance, blazing through me like a comet, setting everything inside me on fire. My nipples went tight and achy and my pussy was abruptly drenched, my clit throbbing with need. I was empty…so empty…I needed to be filled.

  Suddenly, my mind was full of images—images of the two of us fucking. No, not fucking—breeding. I could see Victor ripping off my dress and shredding my panties, pushing me down to the bare, cold rock and kicking my thighs apart, baring my pussy for his assault. I could see him shoving the huge club of his cock inside me, inch by thick inch, invading me, owning me, claiming me for his own completely and forever. And then thrusting into me over and over, taking me, shooting his cum inside me, making me his…

  Victor’s eyes widened and I knew somehow that the vision had jumped from me to him—maybe because we both had the whip’s poison in our systems.

  “No,” he gasped, holding me at arms length. “No, I would never—you know I wouldn’t, baby. I swore to never hurt you.”

  “You won’t be hurting me,” I protested, grabbing his forearms and trying to pull him closer. Gone were the