Blood of Eden

Chapter 1

Katherine leaned against the concrete wall and breathed deeply. Steam hissed from a metal grate by her feet, and the alley air dimmed with thick fog for a moment. As it cleared, she straightened, ran a delicate hand through her long red hair and rotated her neck muscles, relaxing her body as the bones cracked, releasing the tension that had been building for hours. She inhaled, closed her eyes and forced her body to unwind, releasing the pent up emotions that had slowly begun to overtake her sense of control and humanity. The night was dark, moonless and cloudless, the perfect night for a hunt.

She smiled, her teeth flashed white, as she pictured the two men she had just left waiting for her at the bar. Tall, dark and ruggedly handsome, both men were just her type of trouble, especially when they came as a twosome. She was supposed to be in the ladies washroom, touching up her face, but she'd needed the time for something much more important. She needed to regain an ounce of the control she'd desperately need to keep herself from letting go, giving herself up to the lure of the hunt, the need her kind had so long ago stopped letting control their lives. She was a huntress, a myth, one of the things that went bump in the night but wasn't supposed to be real. She was a wolf, proud, strong, female and horny as hell.

She walked back into the club, passing a large meaty bouncer whose eyes widened as she glided in front of him. Her trim hips moving like a dancer's underneath the crimson silk dress that skimmed, floating sensuously, over her body. She didn't need to see his face to smell his body's reaction to her. His scent, along with that of every other man and woman in the large club, mingled with the heady smell of alcohol, smoke, and cologne to excite her senses. Her nostrils flared as she picked up the particular scent of her chosen prey, the two bankers leaning against the bar waiting for her.

Dressed in charcoal black Armani suits, and pristine Italian shoes, they appeared to be respectable gentlemen, but she could smell the difference.

Under the sheen of polish lurked an animal in each of the men, a strictly controlled instinctual sexuality that each had been taught since puberty to manage, hide. She could feel it simmering under the surface of their skin as she walked slowly, gracefully, toward them. She knew their eyes saw only her, their bodies wanted only hers, and despite their upbringings, they wanted to share her, use her, tear her clothes off and release the unexplainable need they had for her.

She knew this, and smiled, because it was what she had come out for tonight, had searched for in two clubs before this one. Brothers, she'd wanted brothers, related by blood. Katherine had craved the connection that only blood established, and she'd wanted it badly. Sex, to her, was a game, a deliciously crazed game that made her blood run hot and her body beg for more. For her, sex was a right. After all, wolves were one of the few select mammals other than humans that mated for the sheer pleasure of it.

Wordlessly she inclined her head at the men, and they followed her. Caught in the seductive power that she exuded naturally, they thought only of the pleasure to come, the ecstasy of her body beneath their own.

♀♀♀

Katherine stretched lazily beneath the cool silk sheets and moaned her pleasure. Even though the sun still climbed the morning sky, she felt well rested and satiated. On each side of her lay a man, dark, handsome and exhausted from hours of unending passion. Sliding down the sheets in one sinuous motion, she stood up and, ignoring the almost comatose resting bodies, walked naked to the bath that connected to her hotel suite.

She quickly showered, taking a moment to just rest under the heavy jet of hot water, feeling the beads as they sleuthed over her naked body. More than once she'd imagined that, if it existed, Heaven must be something akin to a hot shower on a cold morning. Stepping out of the shower she wrapped her body in a large fluffy towel the color of freshly spilled blood and stood before the large steam fogged mirror. Running her hand over the steam, she freed a space on the mirror so that she could see her reflection. Her skinned glowed, she noted with a small smile. Not a blemish could be found to mark her flesh from head to toe, not even a single scar. Wolves were infamous for receiving numerous wounds over their lifetimes through game playing and impetuous biting, but they were also gifted at healing.