A Girl's Guide to Guns and Monsters - Martin Harry Greenberg [57]
“It’s not them.” Lena took his hand. “I need your help.”
“I’m only a priest.” Castelo chuckled softly, still not understanding. “Even in my younger days, I was never much of a fighter.”
“I don’t need a fighter.” Lena pulled him around until they stood face to face. She stepped closer, her body brushing against his. “You’re a good man. For years you’ve helped me. You’re as passionate as Janice used to be about protecting the innocent from the darkness.”
“I’m sorry, Lena.” He shook his head and pulled away. “I understand you’re grieving, but—”
“I’m no mourning widow seeking comfort, Eduardo.” Lena smiled, refusing to release his hands.
“Is this why you came here tonight? To seduce me in my own church?”
“I came here to try to save myself,” Lena snapped. “Because you loved Lena Greenwood. Because by giving myself to you, I might be able to hold on to some small piece of who I was.”
She pulled away, moving toward the altar. “I’ve never had this chance before. I’ve drifted from one lover to the next, never caring about past or future. But Janice gave me more. Now, with her gone, I have the chance to choose.”
“What about my choice?” Castelo asked angrily. “You would have me take you as a slave, or else turn you away and condemn you to God only knows what fate?”
She managed a smile. “You’re welcome to take your complaints up with God. He’s never listened to me, but you might have better luck.”
“I can’t help you.” He chewed his lip, the only outward sign of conflict. “I can’t be a part of your continued enslavement. I don’t want—”
“Don’t lie! Not here.” Rarely in Lena’s existence had she ever known anger. This moment was one last gift from Janice. “You think you can hide your desire from me? You’ve controlled it better than most mortals, but don’t lie to yourself.
“You want this. You want me. A strong woman to fight the darkness, protect the helpless, and look damn good in the process. One who loves and fights with the same passion. Powerful, but also vulnerable. One who needs you. I need you, Eduardo. I need the strength you can give me.”
He flushed, but kept his distance. “What kind of monster would enslave you like that? What is strength worth if it must be given by another?”
“Strength is strength.” She raised her chin, allowing her own lust to seep forth and touch him. “Do you think Janice was a monster?”
“Of course not,” he protested.
“I could force you. I can break through the walls you’ve . . . erected. I could give you pleasure few mortals have ever known.”
“But you won’t,” he said, his voice unsteady.
“No,” she agreed. “Because some of what Janice made me still lingers.” She hugged herself. “I understand your conflict, but you didn’t create me. You’re not responsible for my nature. And if not you, who knows what I’ll become.”
She could feel his resolve weakening. “If I’m to be cursed to such servitude, let me find a higher purpose in it.”
Elena Madera made her way along the Santa Cruz River toward the Interstate. She spotted the werejaguars immediately, watching her from the darkness beneath the bridge. Gold eyes shone in the beam of her flashlight.
A familiar figure jumped into the water and waded toward her. From a distance, he could have passed for just another vagabond living at the edge of the city, if not for the easy, predatory confidence in his movements. “Go away.”
“Territorial, aren’t you?” Elena smiled. She counted two others in the darkness. “Most cats hate water, but not jaguars. No wonder you love it here.”
He sniffed the air. “I know you.”
“Thank you.” Her scent had changed over the past month, along with the rest of her. But if he still recognized her, it meant something of Lena Greenwood had survived. Her hair was longer now, tied back in twin black braids. Her skin was soft and brown. She wore a long white coat which would be murder to keep clean, but did a nice job of hiding the three feet of Toledo steel sheathed on the back of her belt.
“I’ve been volunteering at the homeless shelters lately,” Elena said. “Strange how many of them talk