was terrified that Vera or Tiffany might actually attack one another. Free of a contract, Tiffany’s injury could mean a death sentence for all four of the women if Vera didn’t back off. Plus, the silver weapons Tiffany was holding were deadly weapons—even a small nick could do enough damage to incapacitate or kill them.
Vera stayed where she was, straining against the solid hold Cassandra and Heather had on her arms. Her glittering gaze, maddened with rage, never left Tiffany’s.
Alexis moved to take Cassandra’s place restraining Vera, whose skin was starting to darken with fur and muscles were now bulging unnaturally under her clothing. Moving slowly, carefully, palms up to show she meant no harm, Cassandra edged closer to Tiffany. With any luck, she could draw close enough to incapacitate her without risking injury.
“What does a hunter want with our pack? Did someone send you?”
Tiffany’s gaze didn’t waver from Vera, though one of her hands shifted so the weapon was now pointed at Cassandra, making her flinch and stop in her tracks.
“Like I told you before, I’m not a hunter anymore. If I show myself in Manhattan after dark, the vampires will kill me. If I show up in Central Park, the Moonwalkers will kill me. If I show up anywhere the White Hats are planning a raid, they will kill me.”
Tiffany was met by incredulous stares. All the while, she maintained her fighting pose, poised and ready to strike at a moment’s notice. After giving her statements time to settle in, she continued, very slowly lowering her weapons in a bid to show she wasn’t about to attack—but would be ready to defend herself if need be.
“I want what you have. I want your strength, your speed, your stamina. Your ability to heal. I’ve had too many trips to the hospital, and too many brushes with death to kid myself. The only way I’ll ever be able to survive in this world, particularly with my past, is with a supernatural edge.”
Heather, Alexis, and Cassandra were stunned speechless for the second time in as many minutes, hardly able to believe Tiffany’s motivations.
“You don’t deserve what we have!”
Vera gave voice to a thunderous growl, the glasses rattling on the table nearby as she bumped into it when she struggled against Alexis and Heather’s hold. They managed to keep her from breaking free, but just barely.
With a contemptuous sneer, Tiffany finally shifted her gaze to Cassandra, whose mouth was working soundlessly as she tried to find the words to speak. Vera used the distraction, forcing a quick shift and using her superior strength to slide out of Alexis and Heather’s grasp, yanking her arms free with an audible rip of clothing. They stumbled forward, and then fell to their knees when she slammed her fists down on their shoulders.
It took a talented shifter to rearrange the bones and tendons in their body so rapidly without being crippled by the mind-numbing pain of the change. Rather than assume the form of a wolf, she’d chosen the half-man, half-wolf shape that all werewolves were forced to take during the height of the full moon, her body reformed into the dog-headed beast of legend. Her clothing fell in tatters at her clawed feet, the leather bands of her sandals groaning and snapping, and she shook her muzzle hard enough for her earrings to give a discordant jangle. The jewels at her ears and throat glittered obscenely against her pelt, a mockery of the fashionable image she’d projected only moments ago.
Now towering over the other women, Vera’s sleek fur bristled, dagger fangs dripping saliva as her lip lifted. She stalked forward with murderous intent, clawed, furry arms outstretched to wrap Tiffany in a crushing embrace.
Cassandra stepped in her way, shouting at her to stop, but Vera batted her across the room hard enough to send her careening into an end table, shattering the furniture.
Tiffany stood her ground as Vera came on, staring up and up into the massive Were’s murderously glowing eyes. Defiant to the last, Tiffany curled her own lip, tossing her hair back as she raised a dagger in invitation.
“Bring it, bitch.”
With an ear-shattering howl, Vera sprang forward.
CHAPTER 13
Life contains but two tragedies. One is not to get your heart’s desire; the other is to get it.
—Socrates
Gaping jaws and talons snapped and clacked as the twisted, furred creature that was Vera pressed the attack. Despite her size and bulk, she moved with supernatural speed, though her paws slid on the smooth marble tile and