We made it to the house before dawn and Emmett and Kipp were yawning and having coffee when we walked up. Not wasting any time, I went straight to my bedroom, grabbed my pajamas and the robe Winkler had bought for me and went to get a shower before I passed out.

Emmett and Kipp were the only ones around when I got up the evening of the hunt. I'd had my blood already; it was impossible for me to finish off a pint. Usually I got about two-thirds of one down and put the rest back in the fridge. My skin was prickling for some reason when I walked into the living area and I couldn't really say why. "Have they started the hunt?" I asked Emmett, who'd come in to warm up, leaving Kipp alone outside for a couple of minutes.

"Not yet, they're probably out there disrobing and seeing who has the biggest dick," Emmett laughed. "These hunts are all about power. When a normal pack hunts on the full moon, we just dump our clothes as fast as possible and start running. When we force the change to hunt, it's all a show."

"You all get naked together?" I was blinking in astonishment at Emmett.

"Yeah. It's not a big deal if it's the full moon. We have to make the change and we're itching to do it. We don't even look at the females if there are any. I heard females are kind of scarce in the vamp community, too."

"Well, who knows about that?" I mumbled. "Do you know where they're going?"

"East of here is all I know. Me? I wouldn't want in on that for a truckload of money. Sometimes they get so involved in showing each other up that they come back injured. All of them want to be the one to bring down the deer or the bear or whatever."

I was still blinking up at Emmett. "Okay," I said. "I think I'll go out for some air. Don't wait up."

"Just be careful," he said.

"Oh, I intend to," I replied, walking out the door.

Turning to mist a few minutes later, I sailed high over the treetops until I found the multitude of werewolves, all disrobing and placing their clothing into piles. I sure hoped they were going to be able to sort it all out later. Weldon and Daryl were there at the front and I didn't see a flabby body anywhere in the crowd. Looks like the wolves get plenty of exercise. They must have an outrageous metabolism, too, to be able to eat like they do.

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I hovered around a stand of pines waiting for things to get started, trying to pick Lester and Bart out of the crowd. I couldn't really see them and after a while, it wouldn't have mattered anyway. The werewolves started to change and it went in a huge ripple. One minute there'd be a man standing there, the next a huge wolf. There was an ocean of black, gray and russet-colored fur across the clearing. Weldon, who was a huge black wolf, lifted his head and howled. The entire sea of werewolves took off at a run.

Weldon didn't know it, but I misted over him and Daryl that night as they ran at the head of what was likely the biggest pack ever. They scented something after a while and went after it, scrambling over rocks, around felled trees, forcing their way through snowdrifts and wading through small streams. They have stamina, that's for sure. Weldon and Daryl were ahead of the pack by several seconds when they shifted direction, veering away from a stand of trees and following whatever scent they'd picked up, I suppose. From my high vantage point, I saw about twenty others separate from the pack and cut across a second stand of trees in an effort to meet up with Weldon. At least that's what I thought they intended to do. I was very wrong.

Weldon was running all out, Daryl at his tail, when a large wolf from the breakaway group ran right into him, bowling him over. You know, sometimes I wonder why I don't have any good sense. More than likely, I should have just let things go. But I couldn't. Weldon hadn't mistreated me. In fact, he'd been pretty civil—nice, even. Call me an idiot—I was calling myself one. I dived downward at an angle and was almost fully turned by the time I hit the ground.

Daryl and Weldon were fighting for their lives—snapping, snarling and biting. They had three Wolves down already and those three weren't getting up again. There were still seventeen to be reckoned with and they were all trying to rush Weldon and his son at once. I wondered where the rest of the pack was. Turning my head, I saw them, all sitting off in the distance like they were waiting for the outcome.

That pissed me off. Nobody was helping and there were more than enough to help. I waded into the pack of slavering wolves that was attacking Weldon and Daryl. I can't say how many bites I got getting to Weldon, but it was a few. I was smashing ribs and breaking necks as I went through those wolves. Some of them I flung so far into the surrounding field they landed with a yelp and didn't get up again. Weldon and Daryl were still fighting when we got down to about three of the attackers. Those three backed off a little. Weldon was still growling at them and Daryl was doing the same. I thought it was over. It should have been over. Except that it wasn't.

Another ten werewolves separated from the larger pack, approaching the three of us. The three wolves that had backed off circled around to join the ten new ones. Time for a new strategy. Weldon had a deep gash on his left hip; somebody had done his best to rip the Grand Master's leg off. He was the main target, so that left Daryl in better shape. "Daryl," I said, looking down into his golden wolf eyes, "when I get your dad, I want you to run as fast as you can right into that inert pile of shit that looks like a pack, over there," I nodded toward the main body of werewolves that seemed content to do nothing. "If some of these shitheads follow you in, it'll turn into a free-for-all. At least some of the others might get pissed and start fighting and you could get lost in the scuffle."

"Weldon," I turned to the Grand Master of the werewolves who was bleeding sluggishly from the hip wound, "I'm sorry to treat the Grand Master this way, but right now I don't think there's any help for it."

I lifted his wolf body up and flung him over my shoulder. He wasn't heavy to me, just bulky, and I hoped that his body wouldn't get in my way when I ran. I was about to see if a vampire could outrun a werewolf. I took off in a blur and most of the thirteen came after me. I was jumping over logs, across streams, running up boulders, through outcroppings and wading through snow faster than even I thought possible. Weldon was grunting after a while and somewhere, I couldn't really tell you where, he turned into a man. I now gripped a naked man over my shoulders and I was running out of steam. The bites I'd gotten were burning almost as badly as the burns from the sun. I was going to have to stop soon and rest a little.

I didn't want to set Weldon down anywhere; the Wolves chasing us would be able to pick up his scent. At the moment, they were only following mine. We reached a stand of trees when the idea hit me. "Weldon, are you still alive?" I asked softly. I could hear the wolves following us off in the distance.




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