"We?"

"Yes, we. And don't argue," she said when he looked ready to, "because I bit him. That means, right now, he's probably fighting himself. And the urges to do what he craves, what he enjoys—which is apparently raping and killing—will be hard to resist."

Nathan watched her, his expression dark. "He'd already been waiting less time between attacks."

"So it'll get worse. And then worse, because he'll be stronger, faster. And he'll have new ways of going after the women. And new ways of getting away."

"So what do you propose we do?"

Emma tapped her finger against her nose. "Sniff him out. I know what he smells like, and this is a small town. I can cover a lot of ground in a night."

"I bet." He paused, considering her. "How much did you cover this morning?"

She grinned. "Only the houses south of Walnut Street ."

* * *

Of course, he didn't let her go alone. His Blazer moved slowly down the darkened streets, and from the driver's seat, Nathan watched her flit between the houses, sniffing walkways and doors. Her appearance was raising hell with the dogs in town, more than one running along a backyard fence, barking its head off. He'd have a bevy of noise complaints to deal with tomorrow.

He put in a call to Osborne, who he'd talked into staying at the house with a promise of a home-cooked stew. The deputy reported that Letty had already gone to bed and that he was working through his third bowl.

Nathan would probably be rolling him out of there come morning.

He watched Emma trot down a side street, staying in the shadows. Now and then she'd lift her nose, smelling the air before shaking her head and continuing on. Nathan sighed, took a swig of coffee. They'd likely be out here for hours. And even if Emma identified the bastard, bringing him in could be tricky. No judge would issue a warrant based on a wolf's sense of smell. With luck, the print from the thumb would do it. But if not, Nathan would have to work backwards, find a solid link in the evidence that could have led him to the murderer's front door.

He frowned. Bringing a werewolf in was going to be tricky, regardless.

It was just past two when Emma returned to the Blazer, her breath billowing in the freezing air. Nathan leaned over, opened the passenger door. She leapt onto the bench seat, and lay down with a heavy sigh.

"Done for the night?" That sense of unreality hit him again. Knowing this wolf was Emma was one thing; talking to her in this shape was another.

She looked up at him, turned onto her side. The whine that escaped her sent chills down his spine. Her jaw cracked and bulged.

Oh, Jesus. He cut the Blazer's headlights and pulled off to the deserted roadside. He slid toward her on the seat, but didn't touch her for fear that his hands would add to the pain of the transformation. The change took less than a minute but felt like forever; an eternity filled with her whimpers, the groans of her flesh, and his murmurs that he prayed were helping, soothing. Finally she lay naked on the seat, her short hair and skin glistening with sweat.

"It's not so bad," she panted. "Once the pain starts, you just ride with it."

Speechless, Nathan shook his head. He reached into the back seat for a blanket, tucked it around her shoulders.

"Thanks." She gratefully accepted the coffee he offered, raised it to her lips with shaking hands. "I just need another second."

She wasn't exaggerating; by the time she'd swallowed the lukewarm drink, her shivers had stopped. She stared unblinkingly out the front windshield, her fingers tapping against the mug. "I get a whiff here and there, but it wasn't concentrated anywhere. I think he must move around the town. Maybe he does repairs, or some kind of work on call."

Work was a reality Nathan could get a grip on. "We covered most of the town tonight. It might be he's on one of the farms or rural properties outside of town, and just comes in...for whatever it is he does."

"I can start running those properties tomorrow night." Her lips curved. "I'd go during the day, but someone would probably shoot at me."

"It might be over by tomorrow anyway, if the state comes back with a name on that print."

Emma's nod wasn't too convincing. She was thinking, he imagined, exactly what he had been earlier: arresting a werewolf wasn't going to be easy.

She tilted her head back and finished off the coffee, placed the mug carefully in the cup holder. "Did it help—to see me change? Or make it worse?"

He didn't even ask how she'd known he was having trouble reconciling his Emma with the wolf. "Helps. I'm not saying I've got my head around it yet. But it helps."

"The transformation is grotesque."

His gaze ran up her pale, perfectly human legs. "Maybe for a few seconds. What you've got on either end isn't."

Her eyes locked with his. "You were afraid to touch me."

"I didn't know if it would hurt you."

"Oh." Her mouth softened. Her fingers, which had been clutching the blanket at her neck, loosened. "I thought we'd established that it only hurts when you don't."

The slice of skin and the pale curves of her breasts showing between the edges of the blanket undid him. Nathan pulled her toward him; she came eagerly, straddling his lap. Her mouth found his, then moved to his jaw, his neck. Her skin was hot beneath his hands. Her fingers worked frantically down the buttons of his shirt.