When Passion Lies: A Shadow Keepers Novel Read Online Free PDF

and then she cursed.
    Goddamn it all
.
    Three long strides and she was right in front of them. “Funny,” she said, speaking to the one with his fangs buried in flesh. “He doesn’t look like a licensed faunt.”
    “Not your business, little girl,” the one with his mouth free said. “Not unless you’re interested in sharing.”
    She faced him, her hand going to her hip, pushing the leather of her coat back, revealing the knife she habituallywore there. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” she said. “I’m Caris.”
    “Caris?”
    She actually saw him swallow, and she had to bite back a smile. Apparently her reputation was worth something even up here on the Matterhorn.
    “You should go if you want to live.”
    She didn’t have to repeat herself. The one who’d been holding up the wall cut and ran. The other dropped the human, wiped the blood off his lips with the back of his hand, then backed out of the alley, his eyes fixed on her as if she might jump him for spite.
    Any other night, and she might have done just that.
    The human slumped to the ground, his cheek pressed against a slush of dirty snow. She could hear his pulse, weak but steady. She walked away, leaving him to the cold, but she pulled out her cellphone and had information connect her to the pub. She told the bartender who answered that there was a man in his alley bleeding from the neck. Just her little charitable contribution for the day.
    She paused to look up and down the Bahnhofstrasse. She lifted her chin, sniffing the cold air out of habit. She expected nothing—so far her luck hadn’t exactly been stellar—and was surprised to catch a scent. Musky. Animal.
    Weren
.
    Not necessarily the one she hunted; couldn’t get her hopes up yet. But she turned left, following the scent up the hill, through twisting streets and finally out of the village and up a hiking path into the mountains. She slowed her step, wary. Was she walking into a trap? Orhad Reinholt come into the trees to change? To romp and hunt?
    To her left, she saw a sign pointing toward a picnic area. The scent was stronger now, even despite the snow that was beginning to fall in earnest, and she increased her pace, realizing she was gaining on him. Behind the blanket of clouds the moon hung heavy in the sky—not full, but waxing gibbous—and the animal within was relishing the hunt. She could feel the wolf growing inside her. Could feel it begging to come out, especially now that she was on edge, sweet revenge almost upon her.
    Unlike a regular weren, she didn’t change at moonrise on the night of a full moon. The vampire part of her fought that. But it was an advantage of only a few hours. Still, those hours had helped keep her secret when she was living with the pack. Once they changed, they could care less about her, and she could sneak off to a specially sealed cell and lock herself in.
    Right now, though, the moon was days from full, and she had control over the wolf. It had been a long time since the wolf had burst out when there wasn’t a full moon.
    But trapped though it was, it was still clamoring for release. So was her daemon. Primed from the blood and charged from the memories, it wanted nothing more than the kill.
    She moved in silence, following the path around a copse of trees and then stopping short as she entered the small clearing—he was there, standing beside a snow-covered picnic table. And he hadn’t yet realized she was behind him.
    Her hand went to her knife. She had a gun, too. Adiscreet revolver tucked in at the small of her back. Five silver bullets. They’d kill a werewolf dead enough, but this was one kill Caris wanted to make with her hands, not with a gun. And definitely not with her fangs—the thought of her mouth closing over this pile of flesh made her ill. In her fantasies, she’d considered slicing herself and letting the acid blood he’d given her burn through his body. There was poetic justice there, but she still didn’t