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  I am beginning to like that voice. Beginning to like it very much.

  “Come on, boy,” the pale girl whispers, holding out her hand to me. “Please come in. I can’t be out here much longer, the sun is almost up. Please, just come in and let me help you.”

  Her voice is kind and her scent is right. I make a decision. Going forward, I butt my head gently against her knees. The pale girl strokes me, her fingers gentle in my fur. I shiver all over—she is good. I know it now—the pale girl means me no harm. She will help me—she is part of the house. Part of the safety and the end of pain.

  I let her lead me in.

  * * * * *

  Taylor

  I sighed in relief when the wolf finally moved past me into the house. I didn’t know if it was Victor or not but I couldn’t leave it out there with that cruel trap on its paw. If it wasn’t Victor, I hoped he wouldn’t mind me having a strange animal in his house. But I would have to deal with that later. Right then I had a patient to treat.

  I wasn’t exactly sure how to go about the treatment though. This animal was huge—as big as a mastiff if not bigger. It seemed quiet enough now, sitting there on the kitchen floor with its hurt paw held stiffly out in front of it. But what would happen when I tried to remove the trap?

  I took a deep breath. I’m a vampire, I reminded myself. I’ll heal if it injures me. Of course, that didn’t mean having my face torn off by an angry, hurt wolf wouldn’t hurt like hell, but I could deal with it. I had dealt with worse pain in the past six years.

  Speaking of pain, I cast a quick look at the blistered skin of my hands, arms and legs. My hair had mostly shielded my face but it was going to take a little while for the marks of the sun to fade from my body. Victor’s blood was helping some though—already the blisters were going down, fading to angry red marks that didn’t feel nearly as bad as they looked. In a day or two my skin would probably be as pale and smooth as it had been before I had ventured out into the dawn’s early light.

  The wolf whined softly and I felt a stab of guilt. Here I was worried about a few blisters when this poor animal was in excruciating pain. I had to get that trap off its leg and I had to do it fast—before the sun outside forced me to sleep.

  I wished briefly for the instruments and materials I’d had back at veterinary college. What I really needed was a syringe full of Lidocaine to numb the paw before I tried to remove the trap. But there was nothing like that here—I would have to do my best and hope the wolf understood.

  “Hey, sweet boy,” I said soothingly. “I need to take that nasty mean trap off your leg. I’ll try not to hurt you but I’m afraid it won’t be easy. Can you be a good wolf and let me try?”

  The wolf cocked its head to one side as though it was trying hard to understand me. Was it Victor in there? If so, he might not appreciate the way I was baby-talking him. But I couldn’t help myself—this was how I dealt with all my animal patients. Or had, anyway, back before I was turned.

  “I need to see your paw now, boy. Can you let me do that?” I took a slow step forward and held out my hand, as though I was asking the wolf to “shake.”

  The wolf looked at me a long time from its golden eyes and then, slowly, extended the hurt paw.

  “Good boy,” I said soothingly. “Who’s the sweetest, best boy? Everything is going to be all right, fella. You’ll see.”

  Slowly, trying not to startle him, I got a grip on the cruel silver trap. There was something malicious about it—something evil that gave me a shiver when I touched it. God, I hadn’t even known anyone still made these horrible things. What sick bastard would have put one out where some poor, wild animal would step in it and probably lose a leg or a paw? I had gotten the impression that Victor owned all the land around his house—so who was putting traps out on his property?

  Well, that was a question for whenever my new husband came home. Unless he was sitting right here in front of me, in which case, I really hoped he didn’t chew my face off when I released the trap.

  I searched for some kind of release mechanism but the silver metal was slick with blood and I wasn’t having any luck. Plus, I was getting worried about the circulation to the paw. How deeply had the trap sunk into the wolf’s flesh? Were any of the bones broken? Outside, I could feel the sun climbing in the sky, weighing heavily on me. I needed to get the damn trap off and fast.

  There was only one thing to do—I would simply have to try and pull it apart. I was certain I couldn’t have done it back when I was human but as a vampire, I might have a chance.

  Gripping the two sides of the trap as firmly as I could, I looked at the wolf.

  “Okay, sweet boy,” I told him. “Here goes. I’m going to try and set you free. Please don’t bite me if it hurts.” Then I pulled, using a long, slow, steady motion I hoped would release the silver jaws smoothly and with as little pain as possible.

  At first I didn’t think the trap would come loose—it was really gripped tight around the wolf’s leg—probably some of the silver teeth were buried in bone. But I wasn’t about to give up. I increased the pressure steadily until finally it sprang loose.

  Several things happened at once. The wolf jumped backward with a howl of pain, just as the jaws parted. Its paw yanked free and the blood-slick trap slipped and sprang out of my hands almost like a live thing. For a moment I thought it was going to snap shut on my arm and again I had the feeling that it was evil—that there was actual malicious intent behind those bloody silver teeth. I pulled my hand back just in time, though—sometimes vampire speed comes in handy—and it clattered harmlessly to the floor, its jaws snapping shut on empty air.

  I had an impulse to kick it away but I didn’t want to do that with bare feet. Instead, I grabbed the broom from behind the kitchen door and pushed it into the corner where it would hopefully be out of harm's way. Then I looked at the wolf, which was licking its hurt paw.

  “I still need to examine you,” I told him, using my softest voice. “We need to get that cleaned up and bandaged. Can you come with me?”

  It didn’t object when I came forward and put my hand on its ruff, though it did whine a little when I tried to coax it out of the kitchen.

  “What boy? What is it?” I asked as it gazed up at me with those liquid gold eyes. “What do you want?” Then I had an idea—maybe it was hungry.

  Going to the fridge, I got a pack of precooked bacon, then changed my mind and added two more packs. I ripped one open and pulled out several stiff slices. Holding them enticingly in front of the wolf’s nose, I began to lead him out of the kitchen.

  “Come on, boy. Is this what you want? Is it?”

  He snapped up the first two pieces of bacon, woofed happily and followed me for more. Good, now we were getting somewhere.

  The wolf must have been really hungry because he had nearly finished the first pack of bacon by the time I got him to the bathroom. I blessed the forethought that had told me to bring two more packs and set to work.

  I needed to get the paw washed and dressed and I needed to do it quickly. The sun was rising higher by the minute and I was fading quickly. I could feel the need to sleep pressing down on me, dragging at my eyelids like lead weights. God, I was tired.

  I splashed some cold water in my face as I ran some in the sink, which helped to wake me up a little. Then I found a washcloth (navy blue, what else) and got it wet before turning back to the wolf.

  He looked at me warily when I approached him with the cloth but I spoke soothingly and—more importantly—opened the second pack of bacon. It was a tricky situation but by the time he had finished the second pack, I had managed to clean the wounds and ascertain that the bones seemed to be intact. That was a relief—I was so tired by now I was yawning continuously and there was no way I could take him out to a vet to get it set if it had been broken.

  Stumbling with weariness, I got the first aid kit out of the closet, and came back to the wolf, who had finished pack two and was looking longingly at pack three of the precooke
d bacon.

  “You’re going to have a stomach ache tomorrow,” I predicted as I opened the last pack with a yawn. “But if it keeps you quiet while I work, I guess you can have some more.” I dug the roll of gauze out of the kit and got started dressing the wound.

  My eyes were nearly closing as I finished winding the gauze around the wolf’s massive paw and secured it in place with a little tape.

  “Okay now,” I told him sternly. “I’m going to let you back outside but don’t chew on that. Be…” I yawned. “Be a good boy—all right?”

  He whined softly and I had the idea that somehow he understood. Well, goody for me—I could apparently now speak wolf language. The thought struck me as funny and I giggled foolishly. Have you ever been so tired it was like you were drunk? That was me just then. Dawn was past and the morning was well advanced—I was so sleepy I could barely stand up from the floor where I had been sitting to treat the wolf’s injuries.

  In fact, I couldn’t stand. When I finally got to my feet, I swayed alarmingly. I’m sure I would have fallen if the wolf hadn’t come up beside me and put his back just under my seeking hand. I threaded my fingers through his fur as though he was a Seeing Eye dog and I was blind.

  “C’mon, boy,” I mumbled, staggering out of the bathroom. “Time to go…outside.”

  I had every intention of taking him back to the kitchen door and letting him out. After all, I was about to be dead to the world—there was no telling how much damage the animal might do while I was asleep. Plus, I couldn’t keep a wild wolf in Victor’s house without his permission.

  “C’mon,” I mumbled again and started to lead the wolf to the kitchen. Only, I soon found I was no longer the one leading. The wolf pressed against my legs, guiding me toward the bed.

  “Hey, no,” I protested with another bone-cracking yawn. “Can’t…can’t let you stay. Have to go outside now…boy.”

  I started for the kitchen again but again the wolf cut me off. He pressed hard against me, herding me as though I was a stupid sheep going the wrong way.

  Finally I gave up.

  “All right, you win,” I muttered, allowing him to push me to the king sized bed. The sides seemed higher than I remembered. I tried for almost a minute to climb in before I felt the wolf’s furry head nudging me in the bottom, giving me a boost.

  “Thanks, boy,” I whispered, collapsing on my side. “Good boy. Such a good…boy.”

  My eyes were already closing but to my surprise, the wolf came around the bed and hopped up, taking the other side.

  “Hey now,” I protested, trying to sit up and failing. “You can’t…can’t do that. Fur on…the sheets. Victor will be…pissed.”

  But the wolf wasn’t budging. And at this point, neither was I. I barely had strength to roll over, let alone try to push him off the bed. With a sigh, I gave up. Let him stay—there was nothing I could do about it now.

  My eyes closed but I was cold. Marshalling my flagging strength, I tried for a minute to get under the covers but I couldn’t…they were tucked in too tightly. Whoever had taught Victor to make a bed must have been into hospital corners.

  With a little moan, I curled in on myself, trying to tuck my arms and legs into the white t-shirt I still wore and gather a little warmth. Cold…so cold. It was the story of my undead life. Ever since I had been turned, I could never seem to get warm enough, no matter what I did.

  To my sleepy surprise, the wolf seemed to understand my problem. He scooted closer to me, pushing his long furry back against my front until I found my face buried in his ruff. And oh, he was so warm.

  With a little sigh of contentment, I wound my arms around his furry neck and pressed closer, letting the delicious animal heat penetrate to my bones. His fur tickled my nose but I didn’t care. He smelled wild and yet, somehow familiar. Like fur and leather and sunlight in the woods.

  * * *

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