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Authors: Monica La Porta

The Lonely Wolf (11 page)

BOOK: The Lonely Wolf
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“My panther has been calling for your wolf non-stop. You had no choice either but to obey our animals’ wish to be reunited.”

He didn’t like the way she kept mentioning they had no freedom of will. “Well, I came here every day for two weeks, waiting for you to come out.”

“I know.”

“You knew I was here—?” He opened his hands to the side.

“I did, but I couldn’t just walk out of the door and throw myself at you.”

“Why not?”

“Like you just said, I’m a Purist. I can’t go out by myself whenever I want or talk to strangers.”

“But it was okay to fall into my naked lap today. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. But how so?”

“All considered, perfect timing.” She smiled. “My family is otherwise engaged for the next thirty minutes, and they know I’m in my apartments getting ready for… something I must attend later, so I can let you in without anyone being the wiser.”

“Okay.” He had enough of talking.

Artfully decorated with wrought iron bass-reliefs, the cubicle was small and her scent overpowering. With a roar, Lupo closed the gap between them, wound his arms around her back and pressed her soft body to his, hefting her from the floor. One hand cupping her bottom, the other roaming all over her back and brushing her bra’s closure, he dipped his head only to find both his mouth and hers covered by fabric.

“Stop.” She pushed against his chest.

Her voice was hoarse, but had the effect of a cold shower to Lupo who released her immediately and stepped aside, bumping against the wall. The wrought iron décor prickled his skin, and he swore under his breath, then said, “I apologize.”

“I wanted you too,” she said. “Since the first moment I saw you.” Her chest rose and fell, and her eyes were two large pools of shiny darkness. “But we must wait.” She reached inside her tunic, then brought forth a red card she swiped over the elevator control panel.

The cabin startled, then lurched up and started ascending. Lupo watched as the numbers on the panel lit one by one until they reached the last floor, number eighteen—although there wasn’t a seventeenth floor.

“Superstitious much?” Lupo smiled.

“I don’t think you can find a more superstitious bunch than the Purists. We love our technology, but we can’t get rid of the medieval mentality.” She indicated her tunic with a loud sigh. “I don’t even know why the number seventeen is considered unlucky. I doubt anyone does.”

“In Roman numerals, seventeen is written XVII, but when you rearrange those letters you get VIXI which in Latin means, ‘I’ve lived,’ therefore saying that you’re dead.” Lupo watched with growing satisfaction as Jasmine’s eyes showed surprise first and then admiration at his knowledge.

“You aren’t just a pretty face,” she finally said, but soon after she made a show to give him a once over, and added, “Or just a muscular body.”

“I don’t think it’s fair that you saw me in all my glory, and I can’t even take a look at your lips.”

Jasmine raised an eyebrow in response, then turned, and opened the door. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

It took Lupo a moment to realize the elevator had opened directly into an apartment. Whitewashed wooden furniture filled a large room with pale-sage walls, cream ceiling, and arched windows. Ethereal-looking Murano glass chandeliers in every marine hue hung from above, while delicate area rugs covered the marble flooring.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“My apartments.” She walked to a drop-leaf table and discarded several items she took from pockets hidden inside her tunic. Keys, the red card she had used to activate the elevator, a slim cell phone. Then she reached down, raised the hem of the cumbersome garment and showed Lupo her ankles.

Lupo’s heart slammed against his ribcage at the sight of her white skin. Then he lost his breath when she started removing her flats by loosening the black ribbons hugging her shapely calves.

“You’re killing me,” he whispered.

“I’ve just started.” She made a come-hither gesture, then when he was standing in front of her, she gently pushed him down on his knees and raised the foot still wearing her shoe.

With shaky hands, Lupo accepted her challenge and placed her small foot on his raised knee, then he slowly caressed her calf, untying the bow and releasing the ribbon aside. He took his time to remove the small shoe, then while he kept her foot down with one hand, he ventured up with the other. His fingers moved along the shape of her leg, discovering her one inch at a time.

At the knee, she stopped him covering his hand with hers from above the fabric. “Your touch is… too much.”

Her admission filled him with pride. “I’ve just started.” Tired of the silly veil still covering his face, he yanked it off and took a long breath. “You should try it too.” He slowly caressed his way down her leg, reached her ankle, then smoothed the fabric back in place, and finally took her hand in his. “Let me see you.”

After a long moment of silence, in which her eyes showed her internal conflict, she nodded. He grabbed the hem of her tunic, bunching up the garment over her naked legs, uncovering her slowly, savoring the discovery of her soft curves.

His fingers aiming for her panties, he was about to reach the end of her legs when the elevator chimed, announcing someone’s arrival.

Chapter Twelve

“You ask me what I want before even asking me how I fare—?”
Claudius had asked Ludwig.

Silently praying to the Great Wolf, Quintilius hoped Ludwig wouldn’t lose his temper.

He knew his angel and his incendiary nature well enough to be worried. While Ludwig appeared steely and composed, he was an angel through and through, used to having all his whims granted, and he had to fight his passionate nature every step of the way.

Only Quintilius was aware of Ludwig’s struggle, and how much it was costing him not to silence Claudius, who continued his monologue.

“I’ll tell you anyway. I’m fine.” The vampire smiled. “Sure, hiding for longer than two years in my own house isn’t as fun as it sounds, but I find pleasure in the small things in life. Like visiting friends.” He transformed into a raven, flew over the couch, then landed on the cushion and changed back into his human form. “Or sampling fine blood.” He tilted his chin toward the feeder, whose position hadn’t changed, then looked back at Ludwig. “And I must confess, I’ve daily rejoiced at the notion that the Immortal Council has been looking everywhere for me the whole time.” Laughing, he winked at Ludwig. “While I’ve never left Castel Gandolfo.”

Quintilius knew of the manhunt that still occupied a contingent of enforcers full time. At the beginning, shifters, witches, and warlocks had helped, but neither magik nor animal senses had flushed the vampire out. A few months in, the Immortal Council redirected the taskforce to other missions. Now that he had seen the holographic wall and the stainless steel hatch-like door, Quintilius knew why nobody had found Claudius.

Whereas the Immortal Council had expected the vampire to use paranormal means to hide—he was, after all, well versed in dark magik—he had employed modern technology instead, fooling everyone.

“Last I heard, the Council sent agents to Moscow. Such a waste of resources, isn’t it?” Judging from the glee in Claudius’s cold eyes, he was greatly enjoying goading Ludwig. “It must kill you to be here, archangel, in my presence, and not be able to do anything, least I ruin your career.”

Amidst Quintilius’s and Ludwig’s prolonged silence, Claudius rose from his reclined position in one smooth movement and sat on the couch, then brought one knee up while he relaxed against the back cushion. “The most respectable member of our society, now leader of the Holy Nation, a wolf-lover. Who would’ve thought your sexual tastes were so base, ah?”

Claudius raised his arms to the side, mimicking the flapping of wings, then rested them over the edge of the cushion. “I must admit, the wolf is rough around the edges, but he has a wild, uncultured
je ne sais quoi
.” His eyes roamed over Quintilius. “I bet he’s quite experienced as well.” With a humorless chuckle, he turned to face Ludwig. “But don’t worry, I have no intention to seduce your pet. I don’t like dogs.”

Placing a hand over Ludwig’s arm, Quintilius stilled him before he would react. His angel had tensed when Claudius escalated his prodding and mentioned him. He was proud of Ludwig, who had resisted so far, but now Quintilius was the one who had enough of the charade. “You made your point. Now, tell us what you want,” he said.

Claudius tilted his head to the side, regarding Quintilius with a grin, then he slow-clapped him. “How cute. The boyfriend is showing some bite.”

Quintilius stepped forward. “Careful, vampire. Don’t forget who I am.”

“The big bad wolf, I presume,” Claudius said.

With a snap, Ludwig unleashed his wings. “Tell us what you want.”

“I can see why you found each other.” Claudius regarded them with disgust, then straightened and crossed one leg over the other knee. “Very well, let’s talk business.” He snapped his fingers, and the Middle Eastern vampire appeared at his side with a remote control.

The woman nodded at Claudius’s silent command, and pointed the remote control before her. A moment later, a few meters from Quintilius and Ludwig, a large flat screen emerged from the floor, a scene already playing on it.

****

Horrified, Ludwig watched as the recording reached its end.

“Two years ago, when my estate manager proposed to install video cameras all over the nest I thought he was being overenthusiastic with my coffers, but I can’t thank him enough now,” Claudius said. “At first, my surveillance team didn’t see anything more than the good archangel doing his civic duty in saving a vampire in distress. We, of course, conducted our own investigation, and found that the two werewolves belonged to the Reds. That tidbit wasn’t noteworthy. In our dealings with the gang, we’ve become acquainted with their curt ways. But while we surveilled and followed our two murderers, we noticed that one of them, the younger of the two, was contacted by the mighty Enforcer and the equally frightening Controller—”

Claudius let the words sink in for a moment, then continued, “Such a display of power to detain a juvenile low-life… Of course, Vampire Nation had demanded a swift resolution of the problem and the culpable parts to be apprehended pronto, but still.” He nodded to the woman, who pointed the controller at the screen. Once the TV slid down and disappeared, Claudius repositioned his legs on the couch. “We waited to be called by the Immortal Council with the good news that one of the two werewolves had been found. When the call didn’t come, we contacted our source among the Reds and were told the boy had disappeared.”

Ludwig had to force himself to listen to the vampire’s blathering.

“Then we got suspicious. Why would both the Enforcer and the Controller hide a criminal, if they weren’t asked to by their direct employer? The surveillance team gave the recordings from the garden a second, more thorough look, and found that the archangel picked something from one of the bushes and pocketed it. Of course, there was no mention of any objects found in the enforcer report. And that piqued our interest, so the team watched the video a third time, zooming in on the scene where the archangel grabs the small circular object, until a pin with Quintilius’s clan insignia on it is clearly visible.”

Ludwig wanted to open his mouth and obliterate the vampire.

“From there, it’s just basic PI work. We connect the dots, and discover that the alpha has a son, and that for some reason the archangel is protecting him from the law. So, we follow the archangel, and found an interesting and way more useful truth. Something of great value to me,” Claudius concluded.

“State your terms,” Ludwig said.

“Don’t—” By his side, Quintilius stirred, but Ludwig shook his head.

Claudius stared at Ludwig for a long moment, before his lips curved up in the parody of a smile. “I want the boy.”

His anger mounting, Ludwig grabbed Quintilius’s arm, then lowered his voice to a whisper and addressed the vampire. “Not happening.”

Claudius smiled, as if he had been expected that outcome all along. “Very well, then I’ll have the boy in any case, and you’ll be ruined.” He laughed. “I’ll film the boy’s torture, and I’ll show it to you.”

Acting on pure instinct, Ludwig opened his mouth and channeled his Wrath toward the vampire.

****

“My mother!” Jasmine pushed Lupo’s hands down and lowered her tunic. “Hide.”

“Where?” Lupo turned around, looking for a door or a nook, but he couldn’t see any.

“Come.” She grabbed his elbow and pulled him forward, toward the wall opposite the windows.

Up close, Lupo could see the faint outline of a door cut into the wall. Jasmine pressed her hand over the surface, and the concealed door opened into a spacious bathroom.

“Stay there. Close it behind you and don’t make a sound.” Jasmine urged him into the room and gave him an exasperated sigh when he didn’t immediately obey her.

He pushed the door back into the wall, leaned against it, and a heartbeat later he heard a second, older feminine voice.

“Jasmine, are you ready?” The mother had the same lilting accent as Jasmine’s.

“I need a second to change.” Jasmine sounded out of breath, and that pleased Lupo.

He wondered what she could change into, another black blanket?

“What’s this horrible smell?” the mother asked.

Although offended by the comment, Lupo groaned at his stupidity. He should have thought that his scent would permeate everything in that room, and especially Jasmine. But pawing her had taken center stage in his brain, and his wolf had made sure she was thoroughly marked with his scent.

“You didn’t let another dog in again, did you, Jasmine Rakeleh Karola Cannalis Corte?” The mother’s voice rose an octave.

What is she talking about?
Lupo thought.
And what a mouthful of names you got, little panther
.

Be quiet,
Jasmine said in his mind.

Crap! Can your mother hear me as well?

No, she can’t. The mind-reading only works between you and me.

“You promised me you wouldn’t do it again,” the mother continued.

How many times have you let dogs in, Jasmine Rakeleh Karola Cannalis Corte?

Stop talking, Lupo,
Jasmine warned him with a low growl, then said out loud
,
“I’m sorry,
maman
, but he was a cute stray with big puppy eyes and he was all alone in the street. I was afraid he would be run over or something. I couldn’t leave him like that.”

His wolf complained about being compared to a dog, and Lupo rolled his eyes.

A cute dog, mind you,
she sent her thought to him.

“And where is
it
now?” the mother asked, the repugnance in her tone hit Lupo even with a wall between them.

“He’s in the bathroom,” Jasmine answered, and she sounded closer. “He’s such an adorable ball of fur.”

What are you doing?
Lupo’s heart dropped to his stomach when the door was pushed in from the other side.

“Don’t you dare open that door, missy.”

“But he’s so cute.”

The pressure behind his back lessened, and Lupo breathed a big gulp of air. It wasn’t the first time he found himself hiding in a bathroom, waiting for an angry relative to discover him, but for the first time he was worried about the consequences.

“Get rid of that creature, now.”

“As you wish,
maman
.” Jasmine sounded demure, and Lupo thought she was adorable.

“Then scrub yourself until you don’t stink like mutt any longer—”

“He doesn’t stink that much for a dog.”

Well, thank you.

You’re welcome,
Jasmine said in his mind.

Stop reading my thoughts.

Stop being so loud.

“I suggest you use some jasmine oil.”

“I will.”

Yes, please. Massage some in the hollow of your throat. I’d like to nuzzle you there later. Maybe a drop or two between your breasts too… please?

Stop thinking those kind of things.
Even in his mind, Jasmine sounded breathless.

Why? Are you blushing?
Not for the first time, Lupo wondered how she could be so brazen and forward at times, and prudish at others.
I’m sorry I’m such a dog.

“Are you okay, Jasmine?”


Oui, maman.”
Then she added, “It’s just too hot in here.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s the stink from that dog. Open a window and let some fresh air in.”

The suggestion was followed by the sound of steps moving across the room.

“See, much better already.”

“You’re right,
maman
.”

“Of course, I’m always right. Now, hurry, you don’t have much time to get ready. Your fiancé comes to pick you up in less than an hour.”

What the f…?
Lupo slid down to the floor as if he had been punched.

BOOK: The Lonely Wolf
5.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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