next to the Black Forest for centuries have watched some unbelievable creatures come out of those trees. They buy silver ammo as easily as we buy a cheeseburger. But in America, a country that's only a few hundred years old, the citizens are modern. They only believe what they see, hear, and touch. Do they sell silver bullets at Wal-Mart yet?"
I saw his point.
"I came back in 1968 to a world gone crazy. People hitchhiking all over the place. Free love. Drugs everywhere. It was the perfect time for monsters. With all the drifting around the country, folks disappeared without a trace."
"And now?" I asked.
"Now it's tougher. But people still disappear. You know that as well as I do."
He was right. Despite the computers, the technology, the numbers and requirements necessary for daily living, people still disappeared. Both Damien and I knew why.
"You haven't told me one damn thing that makes me want to put a slug of silver between your eyes any less."
"I don't kill people any more. I kill werewolves."
I wasn't sure I believed him, but I'd give him the benefit of the doubt. "Why?"
"Because something happened that made me understand what I was doing. Made me agonize over every life I'd taken. Made me remember all the pain I'd caused. The faces of the ones I've killed haunt me, and the only way to make them fade for even an instant is to end the existence of others like me."
"I've never heard of a werewolf with a conscience before."
"Never been one that I know of. I'm cursed - or blessed." His lips twitched. "Depending on how you look at it."
I wasn't sure how to look at it, because I found all of this pretty hard to believe.
Chapter 30
"About a year ago," Damien continued, "I was in Arkansas."
"You get around."
"Have to. People disappearing is one thing. A whole bunch of them disappearing in the same place is another."
I shrugged, conceding the point.
"Werewolves crave human flesh. Most feed a few times a month, more often if they have a wound to heal. But there's one night we have to feed."
"The full moon."
"Yes. Strange things happen on that night. Ask any cop, ER worker, any third-shift waitress or bartender. Full moon equals a very busy night. A year ago I was in the Arkansas hills. There was a woman..." His voice faded and he stared at his feet again.
"Don't worry; I won't be jealous."
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wanted them back. I sounded like a scorned lover, a pathetic, needy girlie-girl. Everything I'd never wanted to be.
Sighing, he ignored my jibe. "It's just... hard to remember how I was. What I did."
I doubted I wanted to hear this, but I had to. "Go on."
Damien took a deep breath. "I'd done some work on her place. She was alone. Her husband took off.
She had four kids."
My eyes widened. He really was a pig.
"I'd planned on staying awhile. I could get several full moons' worth."
His voice flattened; his eyes went distant; his face was the mask it had been when I first met him, devoid of emotion and life.
"They lived alone. Existed hand-to-mouth. They were perfect, and they were mine."
"What happened?" I whispered.
"The full moon came, so beautiful and bright. The harvest moon. September. Warm days, cool nights, clear skies. I changed and ran, the wind in my fur, the grass beneath my feet. I ran until I was starving, and then I went back."
His voice shook on the last word. He scrubbed his fingers through his hair and his hand shook, too.
"Damien - " I began.
He ignored me. "She always sat outside once she got the kids to bed. A little 'lone time, she called it. I walked right onto the porch. She didn't even move."
He stared straight ahead as if he could see his past. "The youngest child opened the door. The mother cried out, tried to push her back, but the little girl took one look at me and - " Damien shook his head.
"She couldn't have been more than five or six, and she knew what I was going to do. She squirmed out of her mother's hold shouting, 'No, Damien,' threw her arms around my neck, and whispered, 'Take me.
Mommy needs to be a mommy for the others.'"
"Sacrifice," I murmured. "You didn't - "
"No. But I would have. I didn't give a shit about sacrifice, mother's love, anything but meat."
I flinched.
"I'd have killed them all, but for one thing. The child