Among the werewolf world curs were a lesser Were. They were shifters who had once been human but had been transformed by the bite of a werewolf. Purebloods, on the other hand, were Weres who had been born from two Weres. They possessed skills far beyond mere curs. Faster, stronger, more intelligent. They were also capable of controlling their change unless it was a full moon.
Unfortunately, purebloods were now far too rare, and even curs were more difficult to create.
The venom that transformed a human to Were was deadly to most mortals, and only a handful managed to survive. Over the past hundred years even that handful had trickled to a halt. It had been more than twenty years since the last cur had survived.
Something had to be done before the Weres disappeared entirely.
That was why Salvatore had been sent to America from Rome. It was his duty to ensure that the Weres didn't become extinct. And one part of that plan depended upon Darcy Smith.
He had to get his hands on her. And soon.
The door opened and the cur he had scented strolled into the room.
She was a stunning vision. Tall and lithely muscled, she possessed black hair that fell in a smooth curtain to her waist and faintly oriental features that added an exotic beauty. At the moment she was garbed in nothing more than a thin, crimson silk robe that hit her midthigh, revealing the long, slender length of her legs.
Since his arrival in America she had shared his bed.
Why not?
She was beautiful, passionate, and an animal beneath the sheets. He had wakened more than once covered in deep scratches and bite marks.
Still, he was beginning to weary of her companionship. For all her charms, she had no appreciation for the heavy burden of responsibility he carried, and there was a growing possessiveness about her that he found chafing.
He would belong to no cur. He was a pureblood. He would accept no less in his mate.
Giving a toss of her hair, Jade crossed the room with a fluid grace before halting in front of his desk.
She didn't bow. A fact that Salvatore silently noted. The cur was growing entirely too comfortable in his presence. Perhaps it was time to remind her just who he was.
"Hess has returned, my lord," she purred in a voice that would make any male think of sex.
Of course, just having her in the same room was enough to make a man think of sex. It was a power that she used to full advantage.
He leaned back in his seat. "Send him in."
She allowed her gaze to stroke over his lean, dark features and black hair, which was smoothed into a tail, before she lowered to his hard body, covered in a silk suit.
A hungry, predatory smile curved her lips. "You look tense. Perhaps we should let Hess wait outside and I could help you to relax." With a practiced motion she tugged open the robe and allowed it to slide down her naked body. "You know, ease some of those knots."
Salvatore's body reacted. Hell, a naked woman was a naked woman. But his expression never altered as he gave a small shrug.
"Tempting, but I fear I have no time for distractions. No matter how beautiful."
"No time, no time, no time," she gritted, her passions swiftly altering to rage. She was not a woman who took rejection well. In fact, the last man to turn down her advances was now at the bottom of the Mississippi River.
"I'm sick of those words. What sort of man doesn't have time for me?"
Salvatore narrowed his gaze. "One who has more important matters to consider. I am your leader, and that means I must put the good of the pack before my own pleasures."
Her expression became petulant. "Is that truly why you deny me?"
"What other reason could I have?"
Jade reached out to jab a polished red nail at a picture on his desk. "Her."
Salvatore rose to his feet, the air about him vibrating with danger. "Put your clothes on and get out, Jade."
"It's that... human, isn't it?"
"I do not answer to curs," he growled. "I am your king, and you will remember that."
Enraged beyond sense, she ignored the warning in his voice. "What is it with her? Ever since you've been on her trail you've changed. You're obsessed with her. It's sickening."
Salvatore clenched his hands at his sides. He could rip out her throat before she could even move, but he resisted the temptation. Unlike the curs, he possessed complete control over his baser instincts. He didn't need the inconvenience of dumping a dead body in the middle of Chicago.
"I will not tell you again. Get your clothes on and get out."
A trickle of a growl had entered his voice. It was enough to warn Jade that she had pushed matters as far as she dared. With a pout, she reached down to pick up her robe and roughly wrapped it about her body.
Storming toward the door, she paused long enough to shoot him a venomous glare.
"I may be a cur, but at least I don't pant after humans," she charged as she flounced through the door.
With a faint frown, Salvatore watched her exit. The woman was becoming a bother. Tomorrow he would have her sent to his pack in Missouri. His second in command possessed unique skills in punishing untamed curs.
The decision made, he awaited as Hess, a large, hulking cur, entered the room and offered a deep bow.
Although Hess was part of his personal bodyguard, and large enough to halt speeding bullets and leap over tall buildings, he maintained the proper deference due to his leader.
Moving to the desk, the cur rippled with bulging muscles that threatened to shred his black T-shirt and jeans. It wasn't easy to find clothes large enough to cover a small mountain.
"My lord," he rumbled in a low tone.
"You followed the trail?" Salvatore demanded.
"Yes." The man grimaced, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight. "We lost it just north of the city."
"North." Salvatore absently toyed with the gold signet ring on his finger. "So the vampire is not returning to his lair. Interesting."
"Unless he intended to circle back after he lost us," Hess pointed out.
"A possibility, but doubtful. Styx does not yet fear us. If he were returning to his lair, he would have done so and dared us to retrieve the woman."
Hess gave a snarl to reveal his elongated teeth. The Were hated vampires with a passion.
"Why was he at the bar?"
"That is the question, is it not?" Salvatore replied.
"You think we have a snitch?" Hess's blue eyes began to glow with a dangerous light. As a cur, he was unable to control his change when he lost his temper. "Not for long. I've always liked the taste of traitor tartare."