Prologue

The moon's face glowed in the sky on this cool autumn day in Central Park. Striking shades of green, yellow, and red coated the landscape. The earth's scent filled the air. The wind whispered. It was the sort of day people took advantage of-the sort of day nature's splendor should be enjoyed.

A lone woman sat on a bench, legs stiff, hands gripped tightly within her lap. Couples strolled hand in hand; joggers sped by. The woman paid them no mind. Wind pricked her skin, leaves rustled about her feet. She stood and walked down the path. Her steps picked up speed as the skies turned gray, she hurried as day turned to night-only the moonlight illuminated her passage. Branches crunched. The hair at the nape of her neck stood at attention. Her head swiveled about. No one. Footsteps kept pace with her own, exploding with each step she took. The path grew narrow; their steps grew louder. Panicked, she ran.

Branches bit her skin; tears filled her eyes as her hands slapped through brush. Voices carried in the wind.

"Where'd the bitch go?"

"She's here, up ahead. Buck, move in from the right. Karl, move in from the left."

The woman clutched her side and staggered against a tree, her every breath struggling to take air. Her eyes closed, then opened. Her hand trembled as it slowly rose in the air. She stared at her palm, watched helplessly as the pentagram bloomed. Her head rolled back and she looked at the sky-the full moon.

She dug her nails into her palm, a hoarse prayer on her lips as she stumbled from the tree. Her feet barely hit ground as she continued her flight. Her nostrils flared; her vision sharpened. Silver glittered through the trees, a flash visible to the eye, yet unrecognizable. She twirled in place, watching . . . waiting . . . when her arm was suddenly wrenched behind her back.

"She's mine." A man said, his friends coming up behind him, their words slurred, their movements sluggish. Fingers grabbed at her body, digging into her flesh. A howling cry escaped her lips.

Suddenly, the woman's body was torn from their grasp and thrown to the ground. A branch dug into her back, cutting her fingers as she tried to push herself off the ground. The men's screams paralyzed her in place. Canine teeth ripped through flesh. An arm twitching with life landed at her feet.

Slowly, her head turned toward the monster, the werewolf. It was staring at her, wiping the blood from its wolf like face. No regret, only the glow of triumph shone through. The woman pushed herself off the ground and ran. Up ahead, the city street glowed with its unnatural light. So close, so far, she struggled to reach it only to stumble and fall. A pair of shoe covered feet filled her sight. A man, an ordinary man, stood before her.

"May I be of assistance?" He took the woman's hand. "A woman of such beauty should not be left alone . . . unattended." His arm wrapped around her waist and she leaned against his body. "Do not fear. I have come for you. Rejoice! For tonight you shall become part of me."

The woman's feet dug into the earth. Her full weight pressed against his body. Stone hard, he held her in place, pushing her forward, his hot breath blowing on her skin. Her eyes darted from right to left. Her feet continued to dig into the earth. His laughter rippled up her spine and she shivered.

A frigid wind swirled about them, freezing them in place. The man pushed and she was free of his hold, standing to the side, silently watching. Two werewolves were circling each other . . . growling . . . snarling. Two rabid dogs ready to rip each other to shreds.

The woman took off. She ran until she saw the street lamps glowing in the distance. She ran as if her life depended on it.

Chapter One

There was a hazy mist outside my window. It danced around cars, telephone poles, and parking meters. The streets sizzled with life. I stared hard and long. Was there something moving out there? Were shadows hidden within the mist, monstrous shadows that moved about unseen? Werewolves?

Like Hell! The only monsters that lurked in the shadows were of the human variety. Crooks, rapists, murderers-take your pick. They were all out there . . . waiting . . . stalking the unsuspecting.

Thunder clapped. The window shuddered. Blinds slid shut. I jumped, my heart pounding erratically. God help me, I was losing it. There could be no other explanation. Here I was, playing host to a crazy woman. Not that I planned it. All I planned for tonight were a few drinks, then sleep. But she knocked on my door and walked in, acting as if I was expecting her.

"Jenny Costa," she said, taking my hand, shaking it with a strength that made my teeth grind. "I need your help," she said, and the fool that I was didn't even doubt her sincerity. Not until she started talking about werewolves.

"You think me insane, but you're wrong. Werewolves do exist." Her eyes pinned me in place. "Think for a moment. Think of all the missing person reports that pass through your hands everyday. Did you ever wonder what became of them?"

I don't deal in missing persons. When they come to me, they're usually found and they're usually dead. I say usually cause sometimes there's no corpse, but a hell of a lot of evidence pointing to foul play. All that pointing is aimed at a human being. Well, maybe not so human, but let's get real. Werewolves . . . in New York City.

She grasped the beer bottle. The cool liquid rippled as she leaned forward. "They're not lost. They're not living in another state, happy and content. They're dead. They're dead and buried . . . what's left of them."

My hand shot up. "No. Don't tell me. Let me guess. These werewolves ate them?" I snorted and gulped my beer. This was going to be one hell of a night. "All I ask is that you listen to what I have to say. Can you do that, Detective? Please?"

She asked me with her eyes. Never have refused a woman's eyes before. The intensity with which she watched me was unnerving. My body folded into the seat. "I bear the sign of the pentagram, the mark of the werewolf. All who bear this sign are marked for death."

She hesitated. I leaned forward.

"There is no escaping the werewolf when this mark appears. Only those who know how to fight these creatures survive, and I am such a one."

She emptied the bottle, swigging it down. Good idea, I thought. My senses needed dulling.

"Want another beer?" Half way to the kitchenette, I heard her whispered reply, yes.

When I returned, Jenny was standing by the window. The blinds were drawn; her eyes focused skyward. Slowly, she lifted her right hand. She was mesmerized, unaware of my presence. Her hand clenched shut, nails dug into flesh, drawing blood. In the blink of an eye, her hand fell to her side and she was seated once more.

How did she manage that little trick, moving without moving? I handed her the bottle and took a swig of my own instead of asking.

"I remember the moon . . . full and bright, its face aglow in the sky when he came for me." I was perched on the edge of the seat. A full moon. A werewolf. Sounded familiar enough. The woman's been watching too many horror flicks.

"Listen, lady. Werewolves are fictional. They're not real. Maybe, what you saw was a big dog. Easy mistake to make."

"Two. There were two werewolves."

"Okay, two big dogs that were on the loose in Central Park. Sounds logical, doesn't it, when you give it some thought?" She grinned. I didn't like it much. Looked manic.

"Death stalks by the full moon. Beware of the beast that lurks within. He will come for you." I was on the verge of grabbing her arm and showing her to the door when her small hand knocked the wind out of me. "But that was then and this is now. What I was, I no longer am."

I squirmed in my seat, rubbed my hands against my pants, and leaned forward. "Jenny, you need help. Professional help . . . not the kind I can give you."

"You don't understand." Oh, I got it all right. The woman was bonkers.

"You are one of us." She said. "You are plagued by the pentagram."

I gave her my best smile, the kind I used when working Narcotics. One too many bad trips, you know. Keep'em calm, cool, and collected. But who the hell was going to do that for me. It's one thing to try and convince someone there aren't any werewolves out to get them, another when that someone tries to drag you into their delusion. As if I possessed the sign of the pentagram on me somewhere. I would have noticed if I did. I've seen the same horror flicks. I know what it looks like. A red star, that's what.

I was sitting there, thinking up ways to get rid of Ms. Costa without ticking her off when my palm began to itch and burn. The hair at the nape of my neck tingled. I turned my hand over. There it was, in plain view, the sign of the pentagram in all its glory. My head swiveled toward Jenny so hard it cracked. She wasn't paying me any mind. And I didn't say anything. I couldn't. It sounded like the damn devil was knocking at my door.

Chapter Two

Wood splintered. The door crashed open. My life size painting of James Dean doing his thing on the Boulevard tumbled to the ground. I joined it. A truly shattering experience. Dragging myself to my feet was a bitch, but I managed it, only to be knocked down again.

"Stay still," she growled, giving me a cursory glance before presenting me with her back.

As if I'd be stupid enough to move. I wasn't blind. In my doorway stood a werewolf . . . dark, large, and monstrously appealing. An attraction . . . so strong, I wanted nothing else than to follow and obey. A sharp, biting sting against my face brought me back to my senses.

"Detective, are you with me?"

I nodded.

I was out of my mind, crazy. Had to be. A werewolf was standing in my doorway and I thought nothing of it. Hysterical laughter crawled up my throat.

"Do not look at his eyes. He can mesmerize you with them." She swiveled on her toes and presented me with her back once more. My eyes focused on her silken mane. Still, I couldn't get the werewolf's eyes out of my mind. They were like two suns shining in a black sky.

The werewolf's voice was coarse and gravelly, seemed to fill the air that surrounded me. "Do not fight the fire that burns within your soul. Free yourself and join me." The silken mane swayed. I pushed up against the wall. A furry black paw reached out. Jenny's hand was hesitant yet searching.

"Yes, come to me."

The triumph in his voice was unmistakable. She took another step. She wasn't going anywhere. As far as I was concerned, she still had a lot of explaining to do. I kicked her on the leg. That got her attention.

"This child's life is my gift to you." The werewolf said. I'd broken contact with Jenny's head. He was talking about me. I was the child.

The werewolf's golden eyes sparked, then faded. His lips curled upward ever so slightly. "My patience is wearing thin, little one. Time is running out. You must make your choice and do it quickly." Then, he was gone. Disappeared from my doorway in a flash of movement that was almost invisible to my eyes, but not quite. His form moved yet left its shadow behind. A few moments later it too disappeared.

Questions, so many damn questions were going through my mind and the one that came out was, "what the hell was that?" Like I hadn't figured that out on my own. I felt like a fool the moment the question left my mouth. Luckily, she didn't answer me. Instead she sauntered over to the door, stepped into the hallway, and darted her head about.

When she was finished with her perusal, she turned to me and calmly said, "come. We must leave. There's no time to spare."

I didn't move.

"Where are we going . . . and why?"

I didn't get the where but I got the why.

"Friends of mine need our help."

I didn't debate it. I'd help if I could. Although, I didn't think I'd be much help. I was still trying to grasp the unbelievable. A werewolf in my apartment.

She closed her eyes; her ears flickered. Looked like she heard something I didn't. She stepped over to me, took my hand, then we were in the darkened streets. It felt as if my feet never touched ground as we ran, as if our feet created a wind that carried us through the city.

We came to a halt in an alley. Jenny's head darted about, her nostrils flared. I went back to the street and leaned my backside against a car. I was tired, slightly in awe as well. We'd managed on foot what my car couldn't accomplish-getting us across town in a matter of minutes. She roamed around the alley for a while, and then sauntered over to me.

"Did you bring any silver bullets?"

If the legends about werewolves were true silver bullets could kill them. I didn't have any; never thought I'd need them, never thought I'd be up against werewolves.

"Silver bullets have no lasting effects on werewolves. They are an inconvenience, nothing more."

My .38 was already out and ready. A second later it was back home snug in my shoulder holster.

"If silver bullets are only an inconvenience, what are regular bullets worth?"

"Annoying." Well, I was in the mood to annoy.

She turned on her heels, walked into the alley, and moved toward a door. I pushed my backside off the car and strode over to her side. Her nostrils flared. Looked like she smelled the night air. I did the same, started sniffing. Then I caught it, an odor-animal musk. Werewolf, I thought.

"I think we're going to have company."

She nodded, took a step back, and tipped her head back. "Two werewolves are on the roof." Her head tilted toward the street. She blinked. "Two more are coming our way."

She could get all of that by a sniff. I'd taken a wild guess about the odor being werewolf, but she knew exactly how many and where they were located. How nice.

The air stilled around us. I ran out of the alley, coming to a halt on the sidewalk. Something flashed, a movement I caught from the corner of my eye, a dark form moving toward us. Strange, it looked as if it was moving in slow motion, but it wasn't, for I could see its approach and it was getting closer, seemed to jump from block to block.

Strong, cool fingers gripped my arm. My head jerked down; then, I was flying over a parked car, landing hard on my butt. I stumbled to my feet and poked my head over the car. The .38 was firmly gripped in my hand. Back and forth it went, the werewolf in my sight one moment, Jenny the next. Wiser to wait before taking a shot since they seemed to be blending into one big blurry vision. Didn't want to hit Jenny by mistake.

As if the thought brought on the change, they started to separate. She thrust her elbow back, swayed to the right, and threw the creature over her shoulder. It bounced back.

They circled each other. Claws and arms intertwined in a bloody dance. Jenny fell to her knees, biting and clawing blindly. Still, I couldn't get a clear shot so I shoved the .38 in my holster, flung myself in the air and tackled the creature.

We rolled, my back hit concrete, and I saw sharp hook like claws descending. With each laboring breath I took, claws came closer and closer, seeming to move in slow motion. Suddenly, the heavy load was lifted off my body.

I staggered to my feet. She was dancing again, only this time she had two partners, each taking a turn at shredding her cloths. I lunged in the air, taking the two creatures crashing to the ground with me. Jenny flew in the air, somersaulted on her way down, conveniently landing on their miserable hides. Freed from my burden, but still slightly dazed, I pushed myself to my feet.

"Come," she whispered, leading me into the alley. She rammed her leg against a door. It crashed to the ground and she scurried inside. I turned for a moment. To my amazement and relief, the creatures were gone. I hurried in after her.

Her steps were sure as she ventured through a labyrinth of corridors, my feet dogging her every move. We entered a storage area, crates all over the damn place. They were piled high and scattered about, leaving narrow passageways. Jenny crouched low to the ground and glided through the maze.

I labored through the maze of crates, swiveling around one corner after another, trying to get a bearing on Jenny. She was moving too fast for me to keep up to her. I flew around another corner and came to an abrupt halt. Jenny was conversing with a man, her hands doing most of the talking. Behind them stood a woman and child.

Jenny's hands stilled. The man's head shifted, his eyes bore into mine. Jenny glanced my way, and then they were talking again. I walked over to the woman and child. She was small, pretty, and scared out of her wits. Her arms were tightly wrapped around the kid. He couldn't be more than thirteen.

The boy unclenched his fist and I saw the fine red lines, the pattern no different than what was etched in my palm-the pentagram. He nodded, acknowledging the obvious. We were in the same boat, the boy and I.

The man gripped my shoulder. "Detective O'Keif, I am Adrian Randall." His head tilted toward the mother and child. "They are in my charge." With that said, he placed his arms around the mother and child, and whisked them down the maze. Jenny took my arm. We flew behind them.

The floor shuddered beneath my feet. The woman and child crashed into a crate. I smacked into the one next to them. Adrian rammed forward. Jenny pivoted about, grabbed a crate and threw it. Great aim. Two werewolves down but not forgotten. They bounced right back.

Adrian and Jenny continued their fight while I watched over the mother and child, my body all that stood between them and the werewolves coming our way. Their stench was unmistakable, pungent and nauseating. Their movements were sluggish, their massive torsos struggling against the thickness of the air.

Time stood still as they approached. Sweat poured down my face, burning my eyes with its saltiness. I wiped it away and crouched, ready to pounce at a moment's notice. They passed me by and joined the others; their full force centered on Adrian and Jenny. I turned to my left and spotted a sliver of silver. It disappeared, a shiver all that remained as it sped by.

Gravelly growls were stunted by thunder. The black demons stumbled back, their viciousness turned to confusion, their ferocity crumbled. A silver wolf stood tall, its limbs as solid as steel, its countenance deadlier than the darkest of storms. Steel gray orbs glittered. The dark demons shuffled about. A contest of wills, I was sure, and the winner was obvious. The black demons took flight.

Adrian slowly stepped around the silver wolf. Its steel gaze followed Adrian, and then, landed on me. Even Adrian's vise grip on my shoulder couldn't stop the shuddering of my body when the creature's eyes found me. There was no warmth, only the coolness of metal. But then, within a blink of the eye, they gentled. Its countenance shed its hardness and became more limber. I let my breath go.

The silver wolf stood statue still. Adrian maneuvered himself near Jenny. I moved in closer, the mother and child not far behind. We encircled the silver wolf, its only reaction-a slight twitch of its ears.

"You are not one of Morgan's pack."

An unnerving silence followed. The silver wolf wasn't inclined to confirm the statement, an act that didn't sit well with Adrian for he repeated himself with anger, still, only a twitch of the ears.

Within a heart beat the silver wolf gazed into my eyes, pivoted about, lunged into the air, and disappeared. Adrian cocked his head, his voice coarse. "What are you to this silver demon?" Shit, I was the new kid on the block. How the hell was I supposed to know? But I didn't say that. I shrugged instead.

I wanted to bombard Adrian with questions. His clothes were torn and splattered with blood. Jenny didn't look any better. When I tried to help her, I got my hands slapped. I guess it could've been considered groping. But I saw . . . saw the deep gashes on her body, the whiteness of her bones mingled with blood. I wasn't about to drop it. I grabbed her arm and moved what was left of her shirt to the side. This time she didn't stop me. She grinned instead. I looked and looked and looked. Then I shook my head. I couldn't see the white of her bones anymore and the deep gashes didn't seem so deep.

She pulled free of my hold and wrapped the tattered cloths around her body. Didn't offer her much concealment.

"It will heal. One of the benefits of being plagued by the pentagram."

I could only nod. Shock, I thought. She should've been dead, or at least close to it. Instead she was healing . . . on her own. She turned away before I could ask any questions of her, so I turned to Adrian.

He let out a long drawn out sigh. "All your questions will be answered later, Detective. Night is turning to day and I am tired." He turned from me, then he was behind the woman.

His arms reached for her; they were a hair away when they stiffened and fell to his side. "We must be on our way." The woman nodded.

She and the kid followed Adrian. Jenny came up behind them. I caught up to Jenny and fell into step with her.

"Where are we going?"

"Adrian's home."

"Am I invited?"

Her head tilted upward. "Of course." She said.

I nodded.

There were still questions to be answered and I planned to stick to Jenny, Adrian, and whoever else to get them answered.