Christmas At Thorncliff Towers by Marina Myles

blood lust lead him to attack his Gypsy camp? He could smell Karina’s warm, delectable scent stream through her veins. But he needed to restrain himself and search for blood elsewhere.
    “Go,” Karina commanded. “Head away from camp. Somehow I’ll find my way back there to treat Grace Ann. Return to me if you can.”
    Although his heart was heavy and his thirst was tremendous, Constantin sprang off his haunches. Hurrying into the night, he wondered if he were a werewolf.
    Craning his neck skyward, he saw no sign of a full moon. Yet he comprehended human words. He was confused . . . jump-started by this foreign energy.
    The more he ran, the more he tried to remind himself that he would regret killing a human. Still, he smelled something as he neared Thorncliff Towers. More human blood. A squeal rose above the whipping wind. Mrs. Tidwell was inside the livestock shed—no doubt slaughtering a suckling pig for tomorrow’s meal. If he could scare the cook away, he’d eat the pig, with no harm done.
    Stealing closer, he eyed Mrs. Tidwell through a cracked door. The coppery smell of her blood scent grew stronger as she moved about. His mouth watered. Destructive thoughts filled his head.
    Incisors dripping, he stepped forward. A twig snapped underfoot. Mrs. Tidwell swung the pig around and jerked her stare to Constantin. Letting out a blood-curdling cry, she dropped the dead animal and tried to close the door to shut him out. Constantin managed to scamper inside while Mrs. Tidwell screamed louder.
    Constantin was about to have his first—and hopefully only—meal of human flesh when he changed back into his human form.
    Unpredictable spell, indeed.
    By then, Mrs. Tidwell had scurried around him and zoomed outside into a shower of snow flurries. Constantin had never seen her move that fast! He fell against the wall, overcome with relief. The cook missed seeing him morph back and he hadn’t killed anyone.
    Perhaps he hadn’t become a full-fledged werewolf because he’d only been scratched by a wolf before Karina came to Thorncliff Towers. Not bitten. Or maybe her spell only lasted a few minutes since he’d been merely grazed by her ring.
    He’d have to ask her about it.
    Karina. Was she resting comfortably at camp alongside Grace Ann? Regardless of his promise to Lord Winthrop to stay at Thorncliff Towers, Constantin needed to go there to find out. Karina and Grace Ann were precious to him.
    Donning a pair of old work pants, boots, and a worn coat, he snatched a glance through the door Mrs. Tidwell had flung open. Icy shards of snow blazed across the countryside, making the ground shimmer like a river in the moonlight.
    Constantin reemerged into the night despite the brutal weather. Unfortunately, someone was blocking his way.

6
    “S toica?” Lord Winthrop boomed. “What the hell are you doing out here?” The massive nobleman sat atop his black horse, as ominous as the Grim Reaper.
    Constantin clenched his fists. “It’s Grace Ann, my lord. She’s gone missing.” He decided not to tell Winthrop that the girl drank the elixir Karina brought to the house. Winthrop would be furious. “I’m searching for her.”
    Lord Winthrop threw him a distasteful look. Then he nodded. “That’s why my wife insisted I go out on this God-forsaken night. What’s more, Mrs. Tidwell claimed she saw a gray wolf in the livestock shed just now.”
    Constantin gave an innocent shrug. “There’s no wolf here. Nor is there any sign of Grace Ann.” He paused. “I’m also looking for my friend, Karina.”
    Winthrop’s horse neighed at the name. Constantin repressed a smile. Karina seemed to cause havoc with whomever—or whatever—she encountered.
    “You’re looking for the Gypsy girl?” the earl asked.
    “Yes,” Constantin replied. “I have a feeling Grace Ann followed her back to camp.”
    Lord Winthrop’s eyes turned blacker. “In this outrageous storm?”
    “Perhaps.”
    “Blast you for bringing that woman