Evening was giving way to night by the time she rode in.
The moon was full, just above the eastern hills and directly across from the setting sun.
Intent on stalking a wild hare near the creek, the Wolf was dimly aware of the pounding hooves. But his prey noticed the approaching steed and leapt away before the Wolf was close enough to catch him.
The clap of gunshot was unexpected and the Wolf dropped to the ground. But the wild hare collapsed in a dead heap.
He turned and saw Ella Bandita dismount from her horse.
She didn’t glance his way as she gathered her kill. But he still went back to the western hills, watching her peel the skin and cut the meat in strips.
His stomach rumbled. He didn’t know which was more painful, his envy or his hunger. He was convinced his mind played a cruel prank on him when Ella Bandita took the plate, walked up the hill to where he lay, and set it before him.
But his nose didn’t deceive him, the smell of blood making the Wolf lurch for the plate. Then he remembered that kindness was not her nature and managed to restrain himself.
Perhaps Ella Bandita had only come to torment him, making an offering only to take it away.
He glanced over to see her sitting on the ground, her arms wrapped around her knees.
The Wolf could no longer resist the fresh meat. But he made himself eat slowly. The last thing he wanted was to vomit the first meal he had in a week.
The Wolf was so focused he didn’t notice what she was doing. He looked up when he was finished, and had to swallow hard to force his food back down.
She had eaten half of it by then. Blood dripped down her chin, the heart still pulsing in her hands as she took another bite.
“Relax,” she said. “It isn’t yours.”
She watched him while she ate, chewing slowly until a mess of blood was all that remained. Even those traces disappeared after she took a damp rag and wiped her face clean.
“I would have liked that gentleman’s heart,” she mused. “I would have liked it very much.”
He was confused. The Wolf didn’t remember the face of the arrogant nobleman until he thought back to the night at the tavern.
“I’m certain he’s grateful to have kept it.”
The Wolf was surprised to hear the thought spoken aloud. He believed it must have been a trick of his imagination until Ella Bandita smiled, her thick teeth stained with blood.
“Well, well,” she said. “So you can still talk. The circus would love to have you.”
The Wolf was too relieved he could speak to hear the mockery in her tone.
“Please give back my heart and make me a man again.”
“I can do a lot of things. But I can’t make a man out of you. That’s your job.”
“Why can’t we just forget about this? I won’t tell anybody. I’ll leave you alone.”
“But everybody already knows who I am and what I do,” she replied. “And you should have left me alone a long time ago.”
“But I’m not the kind of man you prey on,” the Wolf implored. “In all the stories I ever heard, you go after the proud, the corrupt, and the wicked. You leave the innocent alone.”
“What makes you think you’re innocent, Wanderer?”
He paused, his mind going back to No Man’s Land.
His obstinacy seemed incredible to him at his refusal to leave and his determination to satisfy his desires. He remembered that lust from a distance.
Even when he thought about the days they spent coupling, it seemed those memories belonged to another. What he could relive with no effort at all was his anger and pride after their first confrontation. He even recalled how his wanting increased with his dislike.
“You make a good point,” he said. “But I wouldn’t say that I’m not innocent.”
Ella Bandita cocked one brow and leaned back, propping herself up on her forearms.
“That’s certainly one way of looking at it,” she said. “But I can’t say I agree.”
“If you feel that way about me, then why did you come here with food? You must want something.”
“You’re right. I want you to leave.”
“Give back my heart and I will.”
“No,” she said. “You pushed me too far.”
“Then I’ll keep following you. As long as you have my heart, I’ll follow.”
The Wolf got up and paced back and forth.
Rage throbbed in his hollow and spread through his veins. He remembered the night he admitted to himself that he hated the girl in the woods, and pushing that sentiment away because it made him ashamed.
But he didn’t resist now. For the first time since he lost his manhood, the Wolf felt strong. He saw fear in the eyes of Ella Bandita as she tracked his every move. And he knew there was power in hatred.
“I’ll tell you what,” she said. “I promise that I won’t eat your heart unless I’m starving or you give me a reason to break my word. But you have to leave tonight.”
“How kind of you,” the Wolf snarled. “Do you expect me to be grateful?”
“If you’re not, then you should be.”
Her voice had grown hard, the tiny muscle twitching in her jaw again.
“I’ve wanted to eat your heart since the day I met you,” she continued. “So for me to make such a promise is rather significant, don’t you think?”
The Wolf kept pacing, his gaze straying to her long throat. His mouth watered when he thought of sinking his teeth and ripping apart the veins in her neck.
