when Iâm like that. Iâll hurt someone.â
âLook at me,â said Adam, and even though the dark, raspy voice hadnât been directed at me, I found myself unable to pull my eyes off him. Mac was riveted.
âItâs all right, Alan. I wonât allow you to hurt Mercyâmuch as she deserves it. Nor,â Adam continued, proving that he was observant âwill I allow you to eat the dead.â
When Mac hesitated, I walked back over and knelt beside Adam so I could look Mac in the eye. âI told you, he can control your wolf until you can. Thatâs why heâs Alpha. You can trust him.â
Mac stared at me, then closed his eyes and nodded. âAll right. But I donât know how.â
âYouâll get the hang of it,â Adam said. âBut for right now Iâll help you.â His knee nudged me away, as he got out his pocket knife. âThis will be easier without your clothing.â
I got up as unobtrusively as I could and tried not to flinch when Mac cried out.
The change is not easy or painless at the best of times, and it was worse without the aid of the moonâs call. I donât know why they canât change like I do, but I had to close my eyes against the pained sounds that came from the corner of my garage. Certainly the broken collarbone didnât make the shift any easier for Mac. Some werewolves can changerelatively quickly with practice, but a new werewolf can take a lot of time.
I slipped out of the garage through the office and walked out the door, both to give them some privacy and because I couldnât bear Macâs suffering anymore. I sat on the single cement step outside the office and waited.
Elizaveta returned, leaning on her grandsonâs arm about the same time that Macâs scream turned into a wolfâs cry.
âThere is another werewolf?â Elizaveta asked me.
I nodded and got to my feet. âThat boy I told you about,â I said. âAdamâs here, though, so itâs safe. Did you clean Stefanâs van?â I nodded at the bus.
âYes, yes. Did you think you were dealing with an amateur?â She gave an offended sniff. âYour vampire friend will never know that his van held a corpse other than his own.â
âThank you.â I tilted my head, but I couldnât hear anything from inside the garage, so I opened the office door and called, âAdam?â
âItâs all right,â he said, sounding tired. âItâs safe.â
âElizaveta is here with her chauffeur,â I warned him in case he hadnât noticed them when heâd stormed in.
âHave her come in, too.â
I would have held open the door, but Elizavetaâs grandson took it out of my hand and held it for both of us. Elizaveta shifted her bony grasp from his arm to mine, though from the strength of her grip I was pretty certain that she didnât need help walking.
Mac was curled up in the far corner of the garage where Iâd left him. His wolf form was dark gray, blending in with the shadows on the cement floor. He had one white foot and a white stripe down his nose. Werewolves usually have markings that are more doglike than wolflike. I donât know why. Bran, the Marrok, has a splash of white on his tail, as though heâd dipped it in a bucket of paint. I think itâs cuteâbut Iâd never had the nerve to tell him so.
Adam was kneeling beside the dead man, paying no attention to Mac at all. He looked up when we came in fromthe office. âElizaveta Arkadyevna,â he said in a formal greeting, then added something in Russian. Switching back to English, he continued, âRobert, thank you for coming tonight, too.â
Elizaveta said something in Russian directed at Adam.
âNot quite yet,â Adam replied. âCan you reverse his change?â He gestured to the dead man. âI donât recognize his scent, but Iâd like to get a
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