"Karl," Phil said softly.
She nodded. "The vampire was Jedrek Janow. He told me about the True Ones, the ones we now call Malcontents. He said they were in league with the Nazis. Once the Germans controlled the world, the True Ones would control the Nazis. I could be a part of it all. I could rule the world."
She rubbed her brow. "All I could think about was my father and brothers who were probably dead from fighting the Nazis. I told Jedrek to go to hell. And that's when he said he would send his personal pets to destroy me." She shuddered. "His wolves."
She paced back to the kitchen. "I ran to Karl to tell him what had happened. Three wolves came that night, and I managed to teleport Karl away. But every month when the moon was full, they would come after us. And there would be more and more of them. Then one night Karl killed one, and it changed into a human."
"And that's when you realized they were werewolves?" Phil asked.
"Yes. Karl bought us some silver bullets."
"Did you ever see the werewolves in human form?" Phil asked. "Other than the one you killed."
"No."
He nodded. "That explains it, then."
"Explains what?"
"Why you never recognized my scent. Shape shifters don't smell like normal humans. But we only have that unique scent when we're in human form. When we're wolves, we smell like wolves."
She sighed. "You talk about it so matter-of-factly, but you're not getting it. I was terrified. Every month we would find a new place to hide, and the wolves would track us down. They were relentless."
"I saw how frightened you were outside."
"I saw them rip Karl apart! They would have gotten me, too, but I managed to teleport away. And then I was all alone, hiding like a rat in the caves, searching for my father and brothers and never finding them, feeding off Nazis every night. I–I killed so many." She slumped in a kitchen chair and covered her face as tears ran down her cheeks. "I'm a monster."
The room was quiet except for her sniffles. She'd done it. She'd let him see inside her coffin of horrors. Let him see her for what she really was. And now he would look at her differently. Instead of seeing love in his beautiful blue eyes, she would see utter disgust.
"Vanda." He crouched beside her.
She covered her eyes so she couldn't see.
"Vanda, you lived through a hell no person should ever have to endure. You lost your family, your lover, your mortality. In those camps, you witnessed the worst kind of cruelty a human can inflict on another. You lived in constant fear and despair."
She lowered her hands. "I killed them. I didn't have to. I acted just like a Malcontent. I'm no better than they are. I know you hate them. So, I know you'll hate me."
"Come." He took her hand, pulled her to her feet, and led her to the sink. He pumped water onto the kitchen towel. "You were at war, Vanda. War is an ugly monster that forces people to do terrible things they would normally never do."
"It's no excuse."
"Yes, it is." He wrung out the towel. "When you came across those guards in the camps, you were an intruder. They would have killed you if you hadn't killed them first. It was self-defense." With the towel, he wiped the tears from her face.
More tears seeped from her eyes. "You—You can forgive me?"
"Of course. I—" He tilted his head. "Oh, I see."
"See what?" That she didn't deserve to be loved?
He dampened the towel once more. "I see why you have so much anger and frustration. It's not because you need my forgiveness. I have nothing to forgive." He wiped her face again. "Vanda, the problem is within you. You're not able to forgive yourself."
She blinked. "I did terrible things."
"It was war. And you did what you had to do to survive."
"You don't think I'm a monster?"
"No. I think you're an incredibly brave and beautiful woman."
A surge of relief swept through her. It flooded through her, washing away a heavy load of guilt and remorse. "I was so afraid you would hate me."
He smiled. "I love you. And I'll keep saying it till you believe me."
For the first time she actually did believe it deep inside. For the first time in many years she felt worthy of love. She smiled back. "I do believe you. And I love you, too."
Still smiling, he dampened the towel with water. "I'm glad you finally told me everything."
Vanda nodded. The coffin in her mind was wide-open. It was still there, and it always would be, but it didn't look scary anymore.
She gasped when the wet towel was suddenly pressed between her legs. "What are you doing?"
He rubbed the towel against her. "I believe you requested two rounds of lovemaking: one with the beast and one with the gentleman." He rinsed the towel off, then began washing himself. "The gentleman is at your service."
"Phil, wake up." She nudged him. "The phone's for you."
He jerked awake and sat up.
"It's Connor." She offered him the cell phone. When it had started ringing, she'd moved with vampire speed to find it. It had been in his jeans in the cellar.
She'd answered it while levitating back to the ground floor. Then she'd levitated again, to the loft where she and Phil had made love a few hours earlier.
"Hey, Connor." Phil listened on the phone. He sat up straighter. "That's great!"
Vanda perched on the edge of the bed, listening. From what she could overhear, it sounded like Laszlo had completed the tracking device. It would be daylight on the East Coast in about five minutes. As soon as Sigismund was in his death-sleep, the device would be implanted in him. Then they would accidentally let him escape right after sunset. They hoped he would lead them straight to Robby.
"Yeah, I'll fight," Phil said. "Just send someone to get me."
Vanda swallowed hard. Of course, Phil would want to fight. He was probably good friends with Robby. They'd both been stationed at Jean-Luc's place in Texas.
If something happened to Phil, how could she bear it? She'd lost so many loved ones to war.
"I'll need a sword," Phil continued. "I only have a handgun here."
He wouldn't die like Karl had, Vanda told herself. He had super strength and speed. For the first time, she realized how grateful she should be that he was a werewolf. A normal mortal wouldn't stand a chance.
"Right. I'll be ready." Phil hung up.
"So the battle will be tonight?" Vanda asked.
"We hope so." He looked her over. "Your hair's wet."
"I got bored. There's nothing to do here. At least, not when you're asleep." She poked his foot. "I found some shampoo and washed my hair in the kitchen sink." She'd also put on the western clothes Brynley had bought.
She stood. "How do I look?"
He smiled. "You're the best-looking purple-haired cowgirl I've ever seen."
She huffed. "I should take my whip to you."
"I should peel those jeans off you."
Her mouth twitched. "You have a one-track mind."
"I can't help it. I'm an animal." He pulled her onto the bed, and she giggled.
He tugged at her shirt, popping the snaps open.
"Wait." She rested a hand on top of his. "Do we have time? I'd hate for your sister to walk in."
"Let me check." He climbed out of bed and peered out the little window in the loft. He might be looking at the full moon, but Vanda was scoping out the heavenly body. Strong back, gorgeous rump. Her skin began to tingle. Good God, she could get excited just looking at him.
"We have almost an hour." He turned to face her.
She sucked in a breath. He was already thick with arousal. "You started without me."
His gaze drifted to her jeans and his nostrils flared. "No, I haven't."
She struggled to unsnap and unzip her jeans. Meanwhile he strode to the foot of the bed and removed her boots. His bare skin took on a red tint from the glow of her eyes.