I'd heard the story of Hitler's monster legion, but I'd never met anyone who'd seen it.
"We didn't have silver bullets. No matter how many times we shot them, they kept coming. They killed everything in their path. It was a slaughter."
"And you? How did you manage to survive?"
His light eyes flicked to mine, then away. "I was young. Foolish. I wanted to live. I didn't realize what that meant."
Damien took a deep breath as if bracing himself. "When I saw what was happening, I ran and hid. The guns didn't work. Our tanks were too far behind to help. I'm not sure if they could. No silver ammo in them, either." He emitted a short bark of laughter. "One of the werewolves found me. I... I... begged for my life."
He refused to look at me. I waited for him to continue. What could I say?
"I'd seen so many of my friends die. On the beach, the march, in that forest. I was twenty-three, and I didn't want to die. So I begged. A mistake I've paid for over and over again."
"What happened?"
"The wolf wasn't hungry anymore. He granted my wish and made me like him."
Silence settled over the room as Damien remembered what that meant and I considered it, too. If he had been a werewolf since 1944, how many had he killed? The possibilities boggled the mind.
"I became possessed. The bloodlust is like nothing you can imagine, especially when you first become.
You're out of control. Being in Germany, during that time, I had no problem feeding the hunger. With my entire company wiped out, and pretty much strewn in pieces all over the countryside, disappearing wasn't a big deal. I was listed as killed in action. I never saw my family again." He took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "How could I when I was like this?"
Sympathy sparked in my chest and I squashed it ruthlessly. "I'm not hearing anything that makes you different from all the other murdering scum I've put a silver bullet into over the years."
"I'm not. I killed - first in Germany, then all over Europe and Russia. Back then it was easy. So many people, nobody noticed. It wasn't that much different from when I'd been a soldier. Except now the enemy was any human. It didn't matter what uniform they wore or which flag they waved."
"At first I liked being a werewolf. I'd been afraid for so long. I was a kid when I went into the army. I'd worked on the docks in New York." He glanced down at his hands - calloused, scraped, rough. "It was hard work, but the war was worse. I was terrified of dying, but I had to go. Back then we had little choice. The world was being decimated. We had to save it or kiss everything and everyone we'd ever loved good-bye. I did anyway."
"Wah, wah, wan," I sniped.
His lips lifted into his usual ghost of a smile. "When you're bitten, you change. And I don't mean just the transformation. The virus - or whatever it is that does this - makes you selfish. All you care about is your next meal, how to survive, how to thrive. Me, me, me pounds in your head like an anthem. That's the demon, Leigh. Complete and total self-absorption."
"Sociopath," I muttered.
"Exactly."
I made a note to mention this to Edward. Although I doubted very many werewolves went in for psychiatric advice on their psychosis, it couldn't hurt to check out anyone with sociopathic tendencies.
"I stayed in Europe until the last of my family was gone. I didn't want to run into anyone who knew me.
How would I explain being alive?"
"Wouldn't your mother have loved you no matter what?"
"Of course. But I no longer cared about my mother, about love, family, or anything that's truly important; I only cared about me."
I frowned. This didn't sound like the Damien I'd come to know and lo - I mean hate.
"When everyone who'd known me then was dead, I came back to America. I missed the place. As much as I could miss or care for anything. Besides, Europe was getting dangerous. All the monsters that had been released by the Nazis - "
I jolted. "You know about that?"
"Of course. We have our fairy tales, our legends, our history, too. The beings Mengele had fashioned in his lab were causing problems. You see, Europeans believe in things Americans don't."