Master of Smoke

God knew where. Had she even put it in the car, or had she driven off without it? She’d be lucky if some jerk didn’t make off with her bank cards ...
    I’ll be lucky if one of those damned werewolves doesn’t eat me.
    “They’re getting closer.” David sat sideways in his seat as he calmly watched their pursuit.
    “I know that!” The steering wheel creaked in her frantic grip, and she loosened her hold, afraid she’d break it in a burst of terror-fueled werewolf strength. Her mouth tasted brassy, and her heart felt as if it were trying to pound its way out of her chest. She swallowed hard. You’re going to get David killed if you don’t get it together.
    The thought hit her like a slap, stiffening her spine, narrowing her widened eyes. I am not going to get David killed.
    An image flashed through her mind: David, braced over her on sweating, muscled arms, his gorgeous eyes lost and blue as he filled her so impossibly full with those long, delicious strokes.
    Her beautiful lover. She set her teeth. He’s not going to die today. Not because I lost it and turned into a werewolf in the fucking car.
    She whipped the Ford into another turn. This time her hands were controlled and sure on the wheel. Spotting another turn, she took it.
    Eva cursed. The road stretched before her, a straight shot, moonlit fields and woods to either side. And not another turnoff to be seen.
    David lifted his blunt sword. “They’re going to catch us.”
    She flicked a glance toward the rearview mirror—and saw the Hummer’s headlights filling it. “Shit!” Eva stomped harder on the gas, but the accelerator was already floored, the engine whining as it labored for more speed.
    The Hummer hit the Focus’s bumper on one side in a precisely controlled bump. Eva felt the wheel jerk out of her hands. Heart in her throat, she grabbed for it and fought it with all her strength as the car spun out.
    The Focus rammed the ditch in a crunching crash of metal and a furious pop of deploying air bags. The back end of the car lifted as the hood crumpled. Eva yelped in pain as her body hit the unyielding seat belt and the air bag smacked her nose.
    “Out!” David roared, shouldering the passenger door open before the car had even jolted to a complete stop. “Get out and run!”
    Eva clawed at the belt, managed to unlock it. The driver’s door jerked open, startling her into a scream, but it was David. One big tanned hand grabbed hers and pulled her out of the car. “Run!” he gritted, giving her a shove toward the woods that lay across an expanse of kudzu-covered field.
    “’Fraid it’s a bit late for that.” The voice sounded unnaturally deep, rasping, more growl than anything else. Eva spun.
    Four werewolves moved toward them, muscular and obviously male. They’d already transformed, and they were all well over eight feet tall. Which made them considerably bigger than she was.
    The biggest of the four rumbled speech again. “If you surrender quietly, Cat, we’ll let the girl live.”
    But the others grinned at her, eyes glowing yellow, reflecting the wrecked car’s taillights. One of them had a hard-on that jutted from his furry groin.
    Magic rolled over Eva before she was consciously aware she’d called it, a hot, tingling wave that sheered rapidly into agony. Her clothing simply vanished as it always did, bone and muscle twisting, jerking, fur rushing across her skin in an itching tide. It was all she could do not to scream.

    David opened his mouth to snarl what he thought of the werewolf’s offer of quarter. An offer he might have accepted for Eva’s sake, had it not been so obviously a lie.
    He was going to kill the one with the erection first.
    But before he could step forward with his useless, blunted sword, Eva seemed to explode in a magical detonation. One minute she was lovely and a little dazed and very, very terrified. When the light faded an instant later, she towered next to him, seven feet of glossy sable fur, fangs, and curving claws. Her hair had become a lovely mane that fell to her shoulders, while a sleek pelt covered the rest of her body. Her face had lengthened and contorted into a wolflike muzzle, and she stood on two legs that curved backward, more like those of a wolf than a human’s. She snarled at the werewolves and spoke, her voice startlingly deep and savage. “Fuck. You!”
    Yet despite the intimidating length of her fangs, he could feel her terror, scent it flooding the air, bitter and