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  The people on the European continent, they took it more seriously. Likely because there had been a few strays who made it out before the infection killed them. So far, all of those were neutralized before they could cause a pandemic, but it was enough to scare the countries involved and the werewolf packs that’d made the other parts of Europe their territories. It’d been Kayden and Sorcha who tracked down the blighters to eliminate them but the werewolf packs were ready, in case the time came.

  He laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “At least half of our hunters are Americans. None of them listen to the briefings and every one of them wanders about amazed at the change to the city. As if what they saw on the telly couldn’t have been real.”

  “Rubbernecking.” She made a rude noise. “That’s what I call it. Looking all around and exclaiming about how real it all is. We did it too.”

  He gave her hand a light tug, careful not to pull her arm out of her shoulder socket. Even in human form, his strength was more than a normal man. When she was closer, he held her against his side and kissed her temple. “It’s hard for anyone to truly understand the full impact of a thing like this without seeing it, smelling it, experiencing the reality.”

  Though some who did went mad.

  But not her. No. Here she was, in his arms. Her brilliant mind completely intact despite her close call. She smelled so good. The skin of her hand was silken soft.

  “You and your pack have made this livable for the people here. Without you, the entire city would have been destroyed.”

  “Not going to lie to you, there are days when we look to the skies and expect a missile to come in and end us all.”

  He watched her hesitate, and then look up at the sky.

  “We’re all hoping we’ll have a bit of warning.”

  After a moment, she scowled at him. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  He laughed, and this time it lightened the heaviness inside him. “Mostly, yeah.”

  She balled up a fist and gave him a thump on the chest. He grinned at her. She did get a bit spunky, didn’t she? Not too bad a hit for a woman her size either. With some training, she’d be a fighter.

  “The hunting attraction is genius.” She gave him a wry smile. “I don’t think any government is going to wipe this place off the map as long as there are people willing to pay the fees to get in and hunt the latest ‘dangerous game’ and come back with the stories of a lifetime.”

  “Too many don’t go home.”

  “Enough do to prove it can be done. There will always be thrill-seekers out there, sure they won’t be one of the ones who end up dead.”

  He clicked his tongue. “Humans have always been a bit mad that way, haring off to dive into some daring deed. It’s as if they think they’re immortal.”

  She shrugged. “Some people might think so. Others might be looking for a way to go. Who knows why any of us do what we do?”

  “True enough.” He rested his chin on the top of her head, content for the moment.

  “You know why I’m here.” Her voice came softly and curiosity lent a vulnerability to her tone. “But why are you, Danny? Where did you come from? Have you always been here, in London?”

  “Ah no, I’ve not always been here. I’ve wandered several continents before my footsteps brought me to this city.” Though there were definitely days it felt like he’d been here forever, fighting without an end in sight. “I was born in East Asia two centuries ago, give or take a decade. I wasn’t much different from Ollie and the boys. One city street is much like another when you live on it. Though every culture, every region, gives their streets a bit of a different stench. Especially when it’s warm all season round.”

  “Centuries.”

  Her awed whisper brought a smile to his lips. “Werewolves live a good amount of time. I’m not even sure how long. I can only tell you Seth is much older than me.”

  “Yeah? Well, time has definitely made him cranky.”

  He laughed. “Seth’s got good reason. Leading the pack through this crisis hasn’t been easy. In point of fact, I’d not thought to see a smile on his face ever again before he met Maisie. She’s mellowed him out a bit.”

  An ache grew stronger in his chest. Wasn’t that what he’d been thinking more often lately? He was happy for his alpha, make no mistake. And he was quite fond of Maisie. There was no jealousy for either of them, but maybe if he wanted to be honest with himself he’d been envious of what they had. Oh and not anything so definite as envy. Only this dull...ache.

  “You are so loyal to him. Is it because you’re part of his pack?” She leaned away from him and craned her head to look up. “Do you have no choice about it?”

  He’d not take it the way others might have. He touched the tip of her nose with his fingertip and chuckled when she wrinkled her nose like a pup. “My choice was this pack. Wandering as I did for several decades after my Change, I was well and truly tired of being a lone wolf. Wolves and humans both are social by nature, for the most part. I needed the support and structure of those who understood me.”

  He understood—better than anyone else in the pack—Maisie’s struggle with the part of herself that used to be a healer.

  “With the pack, I have a place and people to care for. I have a leader I’ve always believed in.” Recent doubts aside. He’d not voice those, not even to Deanna. “Seth’s a good man. He’ll come around once he fights his way clear enough to have a good look and take stock of the changing situation. Without him, there would be no semblance of a livelihood in this city.”

  “I’ll have to take your word for it, since I haven’t been here to see it.” Her tone was doubtful but he’d let it go.

  At least she kept her mind open, despite her judgment. The more he was learning about her, even as she asked him for information about himself, the more he wanted to keep her by his side. She might think she’d be leaving London after her family quest was over, but he thought he’d be able to convince her to stay on.

  Or else, he’d follow her.

  The realization stopped him cold. Had Seth felt this way when he’d met Maisie? So soon? If Danny thought back on it, Seth had made his choice from day one.

  She was staring at him and he wondered what expressions had crossed his face. He raised his eyebrows and gave her his best dazzling grin. “Besides, we’re making a serious difference here. We have a cause to channel our violence and aggression for the good of the people around us. It’s a very positive thing for werewolves. We have a hard time in peaceful places because there’s a wild part of us needs letting loose once in a while. Here, we’re valued. We might be monsters, but we’re good ones at least.”

  “You’re not a monster.” There it was again, her absolute conviction.

  He caught her mouth with his, drinking in her sweetness. She melted into his kiss, letting him pull her body against him. He ran his hands over her lithe form, over the curve of her bum. When he gave a little squeeze, she squeaked and nipped at his bottom lip in retribution. He liked it. Quite a lot.

  “See? I rest my case.” She was breathless, her cheeks flushed.

  He pressed a quick kiss on the bridge of her nose. “Monsters don’t steal your breath away? I can think of a few legends, find references if you like.”

  Her fist landed on the outside of his arm this time. “Big, bad, scary things don’t make me all hot and bothered, thank you very much. And don’t you try and say you haven’t noticed.”

  Oh, he’d more than noticed. Her scent was cinnamon and spice, heated like hot mulled apple cider. Her sweet mouth tasted like heaven but he wanted to venture to far more secret places.

  “I have.” He let his desire darken his voice and watched her pupils dilate in response.

  Her lips parted as she licked her bottom lip. “You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me now.”


  “No. But I want to give you proper time and attention.” He pressed his mouth to hers again and couldn’t resist letting his tongue dance with hers for a few moments. Damn, but he could stand here for hours enjoying her kisses like this. Then again, he wanted to rip away every shred of clothing between them and bury himself inside her. He forced himself to straighten and step away. “Here is not the most romantic place in the city.”

  She swallowed hard, her brows drawn together in frustration, but she didn’t argue. Instead, she turned back to the railing. “You have a point. There’s a lot of broken glass on the floor.”

  Practical woman. He’d bet she didn’t fancy making love on sandy beaches either. He’d have to take her on a holiday someday and see. “So that’s the Tower Bridge and across the way is the Tower of London, right?” She pointed out over the water. “Historic, but definitely not romantic.”

  “Unless you like the tragic sort of romances.”

  She tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear. “Are tragic stories really romances? I thought they were supposed to have happy endings.”

  “For this discussion, I ought to take you a bit west to the Globe Theatre.” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hide her away in a comfortable bedroom or take her sightseeing. Seemed they might be able to do a bit of both. Globe Theater might be a bit rundown but there wasn’t a mess of glass all over the floors.

  “How far is it?” She might be thinking along the same lines.

  “A good walk.” He paused, glancing at the sky. “We’re a fair hike from the clinic too, so we can’t stay out much longer. I’m due back at the pack’s headquarters to join the patrols.”

  “Duty calls?” Wistful, but not trying to convince him otherwise. “I should confess, I wouldn’t be totally paying attention if you did take me sightseeing. I’ve got reading to do.”

  A part of him relaxed. She’d already asked a lot of him today. It helped that she’d not argued with his loyalties at every turn, but only when it truly was a necessity. It firmed his own growing conviction that she was right about the need for the research on the zombie infection, both to uncover the cause and, potentially, a cure.

  “Let’s get you safely back so I can go out on patrol with a clear head.”

  Chapter Seven

  Deanna sat bolt upright in bed.

  “Easy now. It’s only me.” Danny’s voice whispered through the darkness. Faint light from the window reflected off golden eyes as if they were a pair of small mirrors.

  “I didn’t think you’d be coming back tonight.” But she was very glad to see him. She’d been tossing and turning, chased by humans and zombies alike in her dreams.

  ’Course, she didn’t remember falling asleep, hadn’t intended to. Helen’s diary lay in the tangled blanket next to her. She must have faded out while she’d been reading.

  Those eyes disappeared and reappeared. He must’ve blinked. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Only wanted to check in and see if you were settled.”

  “Are you going to come closer?” Maybe stay? More and more, she wanted his company. Only realized how much when he’d gone out on patrol. “I don’t suppose you’ve got your own bed to get back to.”

  “Ah, about that, I do have my own room at pack headquarters. But my bed is very cold.” Despite the teasing, he sounded so tired her heart ached.

  She placed her sister’s diary under the pillow and patted the blankets beside her. The guest bed wasn’t huge, but the two of them could fit if he was in human form.

  He came to her side, but not with the fluid motion she’d come to associate with him. No. Even as he sat at the head of the bed, bracing his back to the wall like he had the night before, every movement was stiff.

  “You’re hurt!” She scrambled out from under the comforters.

  “Oy. Don’t wake the boys.” He rubbed his ears. “Actually, don’t rouse the entire clinic. I don’t recall you being quite so loud.”

  “When you pulled me from the tunnel, I was trying to be quiet.” She sat back on her heels and reached out with tentative hands. He was bare from the waist up again, but her questing fingertips found bandages. “Don’t you ever wear a shirt?”

  “Most of the time, actually, but I find I go unseasonably warm whenever I think of you.” His voice sent shivers through her. Suddenly, strong arms came around her and pulled her close. “I’m not hurt badly, so don’t worry yourself over it. I just had to get a few stray bullet fragments out and I’ll heal up quick as you like.”

  “Who shot you?” She’d have sat up again, but his hand cupped her neck and pressed her into the curve of his shoulder.

  He nuzzled her hair and drew in a slow breath. “You smell very tempting. All spicy and appealing when your temper is up.”

  She bit her lip. “And you might be out of your head from blood loss.”

  “Not likely.” He chuckled. “This will heal, trust me. It’s a shape-shifter gift I rather enjoy, especially when tourists come in fancying themselves big game hunters just because they’ve got themselves very big guns.”

  “Humans shot you?” She didn’t know what to say.

  “Ah well, they’d gotten themselves in a pinch. Our patrol found them on the edge of the park, which would normally be fine, but they’d attracted too many zombies with the daft idea of pouring chicken’s blood all about.” A growl began in his chest. She laid her hand over his sternum and wondered at the vibration under her palm. His hand pressed warm over hers. “In the confusion, they started shooting at anything, even each other. It was a near thing trying to get them all out of there with minimal injuries.”

  “This is what you call minimal?” She ran her hands down his torso to the sizeable pad and bandaging at his waist.

  “‘Course. A werewolf takes a shot and it isn’t quite so final as when a human takes the same.”

  He had a point there. Still, the skin around the bandage was warm, almost fevered. “Any chance of infection? The area around the wound—”

  “Is knitting and generating quite a lot of heat in the meantime. No danger of infection.” He kissed her forehead, as if in apology for cutting her off.

  She wasn’t sure what this thing was growing between them. He chased away the nightmares though, and her heart skipped at the oddest moments when he spoke. Earlier, she’d been imagining the cadence of his voice and the soothing touch of his hands as a way of calming her fears as she’d been reading through her sister’s diary. It had worked too well, apparently, and she’d fallen asleep without meaning to.

  “You’re tired.” She pitched it as a suggestion, not so much a question.

  “Yeah.” Fatigue dragged the word out. “Was too full of energy to settle earlier, but now I’ve found a nice soft spot here, the night might be catching up with me.”

  There was a sadness underlying his light banter though. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.”

  “We were spread thin tonight, the patrols.” His hand began running up and down her forearm, pressing her shirt sleeve up as his fingertips found her skin. His touch sent tingles up and down her arm. “A few zombies broke past the quarantine perimeter and the military needed us to supplement their soldiers.”

  “You caught them all?” Like any epidemic, it only took one to carry and spread the infection.

  “We did.” A pause. “We also have a pair specially assigned to hunting down the strays, the ones that find ways through sewer systems or lost underground tunnels out into the countryside. So far, Sorcha and Kayden have been enough to track them and take them down before things spread enough for the governments to notice.”

  The ramifications of it staggered her. She hadn’t known the quarantine had been compromised. And so far? This had happened more than once? “But you’ve made reports, haven’t you? Let them know?”

  “We’d prefer not to push t
hem into a rash decision, like dropping a bomb on all our heads.” He sighed. “There are still many, many innocent people living here who couldn’t get out. We’d like to give them a life of some sort, if we possibly can.”

  And the pack had done wonders. She’d seen it from a distance earlier in the day. But the boys had shown her more after Danny had left on patrol. They’d gone to the pub around the corner and listened to people laugh and socialize a bit before it got too dark. It’d provided a lively backdrop as she read through her sister’s diary, kept her from sinking into grief as she read. No one stayed out very late, but with the werewolves on patrol, they didn’t hide in their homes anymore. At least not where the streets were kept reliably clear.

  “I’m tired of killing, I suppose.” Danny spoke suddenly, as if he hadn’t intended to give his thoughts to her.

  She hesitated. “Is it because you’re a healer?”

  A beat, maybe two. “Aye, it’s true, a bit more than a medic. I shouldn’t be surprised you noticed. I’m always at odds, trying to balance the two sides of me. The predator. The healer. As pack medic, I can do both and help my pack.”

  “But?” It lingered in the air, his restlessness.

  “What we do here is a good thing, but neither side of me is satisfied.” His chest rumbled and his arm around her tightened a fraction. “It’s no challenge, no real hunt to kill zombies. The only true danger is if they outnumber you. Every night on patrol, you see this epidemic and it’s like the flu. You can’t get rid of. It’ll only spring up somewhere else.”

  “And you can’t heal it, can’t cure it. Plus, there’s the constant worry. It only needs one carrier, one host, and it could spread again.” She brought up her own line of thought from moments before. “Next time, it might not be as well contained as it has been here.”