(eng) Mario Acevedo - Felix Gomez 05 by Werewolf Smackdown

Author:Werewolf Smackdown [Smackdown, Werewolf]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 38

I rubbed antiseptic balm into the wound on Angela’s right calf.

We were back in human form, on a queen-size bed in the small bedroom of her cottage. I couldn’t apply first aid in wolf form. As I wasn’t a veterinarian, Angela had to change into human form as well. I could treat women, not wolves.

The windows of the bedroom faced south and west, away from the rising sun. Blinds covered the windows. The slats of the blinds glowed from the morning light. But I was safe.

Angela lay on her back with the bedsheet covering her torso and thighs. She had tucked the top of the sheet under her armpits. I sat beside her, dressed only in my trousers, and cradled her wounded leg across my lap.

The gash on her leg was as long as my index finger and deep enough to bleed profusely. I’d closed the wound with strips of cloth medical tape. The wound had scabbed over and flesh grew where the lips of the wound touched. Werewolves healed fast, though not as fast as vampires.

She studied the wound. “Think it’s going to scar?”

“Pretty sure of it.”

She dropped her head against the pillow. “Damn.”

I said, “Scars add character.”

“Men don’t mind showing character. Women hate it.”

After we’d transmutated to human form, I retrieved our clothes and my pistol from Angela’s Maserati. I had bandaged her wound with my tank top and supported her as she limped inside. I had hoped that the evening would end with our naked bodies rubbing against each other, but not this time, thanks to the bat-wing vampire.

The mud and sand had sloughed off the fur during the transmutation, but dirt caked our feet and hands, and grass stained our flanks. We had showered together. My attention was on getting her clean and tending to her wound rather than play. Unfortunately.

The vampire’s dagger lay where I’d placed it on the nightstand.

“Any idea who this guy was?” Angela reached for the dagger.

I had given it thought and, not surprisingly, drawn a blank. “Has to be related to Paxton and the two vampires who came after me with the crab.”

She inspected the dagger. It looked new but resembled a war-surplus trench knife: stacked-leather grip, steel hilt, a thick blade with deep blood grooves. What made this dagger a custom job were the sharp silver edge and the reinforcing steel spine. This dagger was made to kill vampires and werewolves.

Angela passed the dagger from hand to hand, careful not to touch the silver. “Was he after you or me? Or both?”

“Me, I’m sure of that,” I said. “He showed up when I had my back to him. While I was preoccupied with you, he intended to run me through.”

“And me?” She waved the dagger back and forth.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean to leave a witness.”

“What was that flying suit he wore?” she asked. “When I first saw him, I thought he was a giant bat. Or a dragon. Even a devil.”

“Interesting disguise. Stealthy. A human sees him, they won’t believe their eyes.

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