"Somebody grazed you in a firearm accident that you initiated.

Where's my lucky bullet, by the way?"

"Paulie dug it out of a tree. If you kiss me better it could be my lucky bullet, too."

In response Amy pushed Leone flat and carefully straddled her waist. Gently, she opened the buttons of Leone's shirt and laid bare the bright red scars that crisscrossed her breasts and stomach.

"Oh, Leone. It looks so painful."

"Nah. I'm healing really well. Look, the bastard nearly got a nipple." Leone pointed in outrage.

"Poor baby. Maybe I should kiss it all better." Delicately Amy dropped butterfly kisses along each and every scar line. Beginning at Leone's belly, she worked her way up to the crinkled nipple.

She nuzzled it into a hardened nub, caressing it with her tongue.

Breaking away with a playful nose rub on the pouting tip, she said, "Is that enough medicine?"

* 234 *

Leone looked up at her in consternation. The game had ended much too soon.

"What about this one?" She pointed to her other nipple.

"It wasn't injured."

"But it was scared. It needs reassurance."

"You are such a chancer, Garoul." But Amy dropped her head and drew the tip into her mouth, gently sucking it to a firm point.

She teased until Leone squirmed under her.

"You have the most beautiful body I've ever seen," Amy whispered into the scars.

Leone awkwardly drew her into her arms. They lay face-to-face. "You seen many naked women, then?" Leone tried to sound casual.

"Some. A few." Amy realized she was being asked about her former sex life.

"Oh."

"It's been seven years, Leone. We've both had our share of lovers. Don't tell me you're jealous."

"No, no. I'm not. I was just wondering. It was a stupid question."

"It's okay."

They lay looking into each other's eyes.

"Was there ever anyone special for you?" Now Amy was curious.

"No," Leone reassured her quickly. "Never. No one."

"No one?" Amy found it hard to believe this woman had not been snapped up a hundred times over. Was Oregon myopic?

"No one."

"What. You were just a player? Big Stud Runamok?"

Leone laughed at the moniker. "I'm only amok for you. There's been no one. No one at all." She swallowed anxiously. Her eyes locked with Amy's. "No one. Just you...Only you."

Leone lay there, totally exposed. Her breath stilled. She looked into the depths of Amy Fortune's soul, trying to read it. Would she be any less for her confession?

There were many ways to say, "I love you," to say, "There has * 235 *

only ever been you," or "I will wait for you forever"...and Leone had said it the only way she knew how. Year after year, alone and waiting. Cradling her half a heart, until now, when the missing half had at last returned. Her wait was finally over.

Amy was mute, stricken at the magnitude of these two little words. No one.

Leone had waited for her all this time-and no one. All the pain, rejection and humiliation she had carried for years-and no one? Two words. Five letters. Five stupid little letters. No one. All this time...

"Does that make me someone?" she whispered.

Hours later, Amy's eyes eventually drooped. She had been loved and adored, her body satisfied to the edge of distraction. Her heart was full and content. And now she begged Leone for sleep.

Leone lay beside her and watched until she knew Amy was in deep slumber. Only then did she slip away from their bed and walked naked out onto the porch. The night breeze was sharp and chill, and it thrilled her heated skin.

The full moon was coming around again, ripening in its cycle to the point when it would pour preternatural energy down upon this planet. Then all the dark creatures of the night would honor their golden, lunar goddess.

Leone's blood stirred and her flesh tightened. Energy flowed through her like quicksilver. She would hunt tonight, the first time since her kill. Since ridding the valley of rogues.

She left the shadows of the porch and moved to the central clearing. There she stood and looked to the stars, and the heavy crescent moon. Silently she thanked her lunar mother for her wolven heart, for her loving family, and for Amy Fortune, her one true mate. Then she flung back her head and howled her heart out.

* 236 *

About the Author.

Gill McKnight currently lives in Greece alongside snakes, scorpions, and spiders bigger than her head. When not scribbling in a notebook or pecking away at her laptop, Gill tries to learn Greek and survive riding on her rattly, secondhand scooter. She has secret fantasies about growing lavender and hanging straight shelves in a crooked house.

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