roars, snarls, and vicious growls as the two sides launched into battle, their bodies forming a sea of fur and flesh.
From the start, the purebreds maintained a considerable advantage.
Able to change without a full moon, they dominated the mutants, pressing their advantage. Flesh tearing and blood spraying, Zane’s pack moved through the camp like conquering barbarians. The most attractive females, a group of ancient males, and the children, were spared.
“They became our slaves. Some of our males chose their women as mates. It was a bad idea. We should have complied with the Indians and destroyed them all. Then, maybe, we wouldn’t be in the situation we’re in now,” Zane added, his expression grim.
“What situation?” I found myself hanging on Zane’s explanations.
“When you leave enemies amongst you, in time, they find a way to rebel. In the late sixties, we agreed to let the mutants move on. The ones remaining in the wild, so to speak, had been staying away from humans, trying to blend into society like the rest of us.
With the Indians’ approval, we decided to allow them limited freedom. Our pack chose the strongest males to enforce the long-established law — no feeding off humans or human-owned livestock. Unlike us, mutants have greater difficulty ignoring the bloodlust, particularly during a full moon.”
“So these mutants became mutants in the first place because you guys snacked on them? You haven’t explained how they came into existence other than saying they were ‘bitten.’” I struggled to keep everything straight.
“Let’s just say our ancient ancestors discovered that by biting humans they could convert them into wolf-like creatures — to do their dirty work. They hoped these mixed-breeds would serve as additional warriors and slaves.
Instead of building a loyal army, they ended up creating an enemy. For centuries, we’ve paid for our relatives’ mistakes.” He looked down, as if to gather his thoughts.
“In recent years, we’ve been able to keep things under control. Now we’ve come to believe that some of our own are partnering with the mutants to stir up trouble with the Indians, hoping to take a bite of our financial success while destroying our overall credibility.”
“Where does Ms. Jazmine fit into all this?” My brain was reaching its capacity, but I couldn’t rest without knowing about my arch rival.
“Like I mentioned last night, she works for our casinos. I serve on the Board of Directors, an honor she’s always wanted. Our parents presented us as future mates before the combined Native American Werewolf Council when we were about seven or eight. Regardless of my aversion to her, tradition requires that unless another true partner is revealed, we must mate, or, as you humans say, marry.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Marrying without love sounded like the worst possible fate.
“She showed up here, because when I turn twenty-eight next month, we’re supposed to present ourselves before the council elders as mates. Believe me; I’m trying everything to get out of this archaic agreement. If I can prove she’s up to something that endangers the pack’s well-being, in any way, I’m free from her — forever.” He sighed. “That’s the proven way, unless my true, fated mate appears, although that’s not likely. Most of our kind never locates their actual mates.”
His last words provided an unexpected solution along with a flood of nervous jitters. I could be the woman to save him from Jazmine.
Ridiculous! I couldn’t marry, mate, or whatever it entailed with Zane. He was a werewolf. With my assorted background I was all for interracial relationships. Interspecies? — The jury was still out on that possibility.
I forced my thoughts back to the Jazmine issue.
“What do you think she’s doing to threaten the pack?” I asked, hoping for an answer I could understand. Helping Zane expose her plan seemed like a pretty noble cause. Anything to keep Ms. Jazmine far-far away from Plum Beach — and me — was well worth my time.
“I’m not sure. She’s always been manipulative. What are you thinking?” Zane drew me closer, my hand still in his.
“That I don’t like her, and I still don’t know why those men showed up at the bar.” He’d failed to explain that little, very important piece of the puzzle. “And what about the bodies?” I was shocked the story hadn’t been splashed across the front page of today’s paper.
“Good eye for details, Princess. Those dead dogs were here to deliver a little warning.” He grimaced. “The mutants aren’t the only ones scheming and positioning for