To Catch a Wolf Read Online Free PDF Page B
Author: Susan Krinard
pitching his
voice in mockery.
"I know there is.”
"There is no reason for anything that happens.”
"You really believe that, don't you?" She shook her head. "Whatever you are, wherever
you came from, I think there is some honor in you, or you would already be gone. That's
why you are going to help us.”
He met her gaze, and she took one step back. "You play a dangerous game.”
To Catch a Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 04
Page 32 of 410
"You don't frighten me. I've seen too much.”
She was a little afraid, but she hid it well. He felt the first stirrings of grudging respect, as
he had felt fear of bonds that had nothing to do with prison walls.
"I have nothing to give you," he said harshly.
"But you do. You have something very valuable. We make our living by showing people
things they've never seen before. And you are something very few people have seen.”
"You want me to
go on display?" The idea was so absurd that it erased both doubt
and fear. He turned to go.
Her hand caught at him. His first impulse was to remove it by the swiftest means
possible, regardless of the damage to her. He held himself rigid instead, and growled.
"I can't let you go. Not until you promise to meet the people who helped you.”
Morgan recognized the trap, and that he must pay a price to escape it. He gave the girl
a terse nod. The language of her body told him that she had not been sure he would
agree and knew full well that she could not stop him. She ducked into the tent and
reemerged with his blanket.
"Put this on," she said, "and come with me.”
He took the blanket and draped it over his shoulders. Caitlin marched across the camp
toward the nearest tent. People called out greetings in the twilight, voices warm with
friendship. Morgan hunched into his blanket and deafened himself to Caitlin's cheery
responses. They were not his friends, and neither was she.
To Catch a Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 04
Page 33 of 410
They reached a tent as shabby and patched as the others, and Caitlin lifted the flap.
"Go on inside," she said.
He hesitated. Three distinct and familiar human scents permeated the air. This was yet
another trap, another way to hold him.
"Don't worry," Caitlin said. "You could break Ulysses in two if you wanted, and Florizel is
harmless. As for Tamar—" She shrugged.
Morgan tried to lay back ears that remained stubbornly fixed in place and entered the
tent.
Two men sat at a pair of folding chairs on either side of a small table, intent on a game
of cards. One of them was of average size, but his skin was pale as the moon, and his
hair the same ghostly hue.
The other was the height of a child, legs dangling well above the ground. He was
dressed impeccably in proportioned trousers, vest, and coat, all made of what Morgan
guessed to be expensive cloth. His boots shone with recent polishing. His features were
handsome, his thick yellow hair the sort that any dandy might envy. But nature had
shaped his body into a parody of a normal man's.
Behind them stood a woman of overwhelming sensuality, lushly curved and with skin
that shimmered as if imbedded with a hundred tiny gemstones. Her thick black hair fell
almost to her waist. A pair of snakes wound about her shoulders and upper arms,
tongues darting.
The serpent woman stared at Morgan with dark, glittering eyes. At the table, the albino
threw down his hand of cards with a breath of disgust.
"Don't even attempt to deny it, Wakefield. You let me win again.”
To Catch a Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 04
Page 34 of 410
The little man lifted his brows. "You need not play if you find it unpleasant," he said in a
smooth Southern drawl. "I do apologize if I have offended.”
The albino snorted and looked toward Morgan. Wakefield followed his glance.
"Ah," he said. "I see that our patient has recovered." He slid down from his chair. Caitlin
went to his side, her slight form towering above
voice in mockery.
"I know there is.”
"There is no reason for anything that happens.”
"You really believe that, don't you?" She shook her head. "Whatever you are, wherever
you came from, I think there is some honor in you, or you would already be gone. That's
why you are going to help us.”
He met her gaze, and she took one step back. "You play a dangerous game.”
To Catch a Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 04
Page 32 of 410
"You don't frighten me. I've seen too much.”
She was a little afraid, but she hid it well. He felt the first stirrings of grudging respect, as
he had felt fear of bonds that had nothing to do with prison walls.
"I have nothing to give you," he said harshly.
"But you do. You have something very valuable. We make our living by showing people
things they've never seen before. And you are something very few people have seen.”
"You want me to
go on display?" The idea was so absurd that it erased both doubt
and fear. He turned to go.
Her hand caught at him. His first impulse was to remove it by the swiftest means
possible, regardless of the damage to her. He held himself rigid instead, and growled.
"I can't let you go. Not until you promise to meet the people who helped you.”
Morgan recognized the trap, and that he must pay a price to escape it. He gave the girl
a terse nod. The language of her body told him that she had not been sure he would
agree and knew full well that she could not stop him. She ducked into the tent and
reemerged with his blanket.
"Put this on," she said, "and come with me.”
He took the blanket and draped it over his shoulders. Caitlin marched across the camp
toward the nearest tent. People called out greetings in the twilight, voices warm with
friendship. Morgan hunched into his blanket and deafened himself to Caitlin's cheery
responses. They were not his friends, and neither was she.
To Catch a Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 04
Page 33 of 410
They reached a tent as shabby and patched as the others, and Caitlin lifted the flap.
"Go on inside," she said.
He hesitated. Three distinct and familiar human scents permeated the air. This was yet
another trap, another way to hold him.
"Don't worry," Caitlin said. "You could break Ulysses in two if you wanted, and Florizel is
harmless. As for Tamar—" She shrugged.
Morgan tried to lay back ears that remained stubbornly fixed in place and entered the
tent.
Two men sat at a pair of folding chairs on either side of a small table, intent on a game
of cards. One of them was of average size, but his skin was pale as the moon, and his
hair the same ghostly hue.
The other was the height of a child, legs dangling well above the ground. He was
dressed impeccably in proportioned trousers, vest, and coat, all made of what Morgan
guessed to be expensive cloth. His boots shone with recent polishing. His features were
handsome, his thick yellow hair the sort that any dandy might envy. But nature had
shaped his body into a parody of a normal man's.
Behind them stood a woman of overwhelming sensuality, lushly curved and with skin
that shimmered as if imbedded with a hundred tiny gemstones. Her thick black hair fell
almost to her waist. A pair of snakes wound about her shoulders and upper arms,
tongues darting.
The serpent woman stared at Morgan with dark, glittering eyes. At the table, the albino
threw down his hand of cards with a breath of disgust.
"Don't even attempt to deny it, Wakefield. You let me win again.”
To Catch a Wolf – 19th Century Werewolf 04
Page 34 of 410
The little man lifted his brows. "You need not play if you find it unpleasant," he said in a
smooth Southern drawl. "I do apologize if I have offended.”
The albino snorted and looked toward Morgan. Wakefield followed his glance.
"Ah," he said. "I see that our patient has recovered." He slid down from his chair. Caitlin
went to his side, her slight form towering above
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