Wolfsbane: Aspect of the Wolf (10 page)

How could he apologize for this?

Under his scrutiny, she opened her eyes and smirked. “Wanna go again?"

Her question hit him like a punch in the gut. She wanted more? His immediate reaction was, Oh, God, yes! Then his vision cleared and his thoughts calmed. What had they done? And where in the hell had they done it?

Weak morning light streamed into the tiny opening of the cave. Birds had begun to sing outside. Any moment the pump would start drawing water up from the lily pond to create the waterfall. They couldn't stay here. Not that he wanted to.

"Hold that thought. We need to get out of here,” he replied to her wanton question.

She struggled to sit up. He offered his hand, and she curled up her battered body around her crossed knees. She regarded him through a tangle of chestnut curls that hid one eye. God, she was beautiful.

His chest tightened and his heart hammered just from looking at her. “Did we really—?"

She nodded and ticked off positions on her fingers. “You on top, you on top again, me on top, then you on top again. I like you on top best."

Four times? Was that all?
He could definitely go again—right now, in fact—but...

"How the hell did we get in here?” And where were all their clothes? He felt behind him and located his jeans, which he slipped on as quickly as possible. Then he found the shredded remains of the shirt she'd been wearing.

"We climbed,” she said.

"No kidding. Why up here?"

"Do you mind?” she asked, holding up his own shirt. He nodded, and she slipped it over her head.

"Where are your pants?"

"Over there. I think.” She pointed to a crumbled ball of dark denim that lay in the corner. He retrieved it and tossed it to her. “The werewolf needed a lair, I guess. He wanted a mate."

"So that's why Vance kept coming here and staring up at the rocks every time he transformed. He knew of this place and wanted to bring a mate here. I wonder why he didn't try to go after Bethany."

Emilie shrugged and shimmied back into her jeans. Daniel found he couldn't take his eyes off her. Her every movement fascinated him. He remembered every nuance of her body, every plane and curve. He tasted her in his memory and found himself rock hard again, even though she was now fully dressed.

"Maybe he would have if he could, but you've been keeping him pretty well guarded and making sure Bethany didn't try to come around on the nights he transformed."

Daniel shook off the carnal thoughts that plagued him. Why could he remember Emilie screaming his name as her body surrendered to his, but he couldn't recall leaving the house last night? “Does this mean Vance is cured? We pulled the beast out of him and it died?"

Emilie swept her hair from her eyes and grinned. “I told you it couldn't live inside you because you hadn't been bitten."

"I remember you telling me that ... but, oh jeez.” He suddenly had a clear vision of Vance chained to a chair in the basement, unconscious. “We'd better get home."

After a brief reconnaissance to make sure no one saw them leaving the cave, Daniel helped Emilie climb down from the rock wall, just moments before the pump started and water began spilling over the entrance of the lair, hiding it from view.

They stood on the path, looking up at the water as it obliterated the entrance. Reluctant to break contact, he slipped his arm around her waist and drew her to him.

"I'm not sure what to say about what happened up there. I feel like I should apologize."

"Are you sorry?” Her big green eyes dared him.

No. He
wasn't
sorry. He'd never felt so possessive in his life. She belonged to him now. He'd claimed her and beaten down the beast at the same time.

He cupped her jaw and kissed her hard, her body melding against his. “I'm not sorry at all."

Her answer made his heart thud. “Me, neither."

Charlotte was sitting on the front steps of Daniel's house, sipping coffee from an oversized mug, when they strolled up the driveway. “Morning,” she said after a yawn and another sip of java.

"Uh, good morning,” Emilie asked. “How's Vance?"

"Not good."

"What?” Daniel bounded up the stairs. “Did he transform? Were there side effects?"

"Calm down, Romeo.” Charlotte rose, dusted off the seat of her pants and gave Emilie a pointed look. “Nice T-shirt, by the way, Em. Not the one you were wearing when you left. Anyway, Vance is physically okay. He's cured. Once he woke up and we unchained him—not necessarily in that order—he spent the rest of the night trying to explain our dark, Satanic ritual to the future ‘Mrs. Anyone But Vance.’”

Emilie covered her eyes. “Oh, no. She dumped him?"

Charlotte nodded. “She tore him a new one first, though. Bit of a harpy, if you ask me. She looks like Meg Ryan, but she can curse like a
Sopranos
marathon."

Daniel moaned and seemed to sag. “Crap!"

Emilie whimpered. “I'm sorry, Daniel. Why did she show up here anyway? Didn't you guys tell her Vance had a business trip?"

After another sip of coffee, Charlotte answered. “She apparently forgot her address book. She dropped by to see if she'd left it on the kitchen counter. When she heard us chanting, she let herself into the basement."

"Maybe we could talk to her.” Emilie sank down to the spot Charlotte had vacated on the steps.

Her cousin gave her a disparaging look. “I don't think there's anything you could tell her that we didn't already try."

"I'm going to talk to him. Will you be okay?” Daniel touched Emilie's shoulder.

She shivered at the electric jolt the contact gave her. She smiled up at him. “I'll be fine.” After he disappeared inside the house, she rubbed her eyes and sighed. “That went just exactly as we hoped it wouldn't."

Charlotte joined her on the steps and gave her a sidelong glance over the wide rim of her coffee mug. “Looks like you got some aspect of the wolf on you."

"Don't start."

"I'm not lecturing. I'm just making an observation. If Miss Perfect hadn't blundered in, I think everything would have turned out pretty well. At least the spell worked. According to my research, it was a long shot."

Emilie stretched her aching muscles. “Vance won't change tonight, right?"

"Nope. Not that he much cares at this point, though."

"Did he turn blue?"

"No, also, not making much difference to him at the moment."

Emilie made a weeping sound and cradled her head in her hands. “All he wanted was
not
to lose Bethany. I feel terrible."

Charlotte patted her on the shoulder. “He's a man, sweetie. He'll get over it."

"I'll never, ever get over this.” Vance stared at the dark sludge in the bottom of his coffee mug and shook his head.

Daniel pulled up a chair beside his brother at the kitchen table. “Maybe if you give her a little time—"

"Time to what?” Vance turned bleary eyes and rubbed his stubbled chin. He removed his glasses, then resolutely tossed them across the table. “Time to leave the country? Time to change her name? She thinks we're all insane. Psychopathically insane."

"But the other day she was talking about Emilie's shop. What about the wedding blessing candles and the wreath she wanted to buy? Witchcraft was okay, then."

Vance bobbed his head. “She thought Emilie's shop was like—like—Pier One with herbs. She thought it was a gimmick. She didn't believe Emilie was a
real
witch."

Daniel hunched over the table, contemplating the grain in the polished wood, and wracked his brain for a solution to his brother's misery. “We'll figure something out. You'll get her back."

Vance seemed to deflate. “It's done. She's gone. Beth isn't the wishy-washy, mind-game type of girl. She isn't going to give me the silent treatment for a few days until I go insane from missing her, then call me up and tell me what to buy for her at Fortunoff to make it better. She has principles. She said good-bye last night, and she meant it."

"Vance—"

He rose and scrubbed his face with one hand, blinking and retrieving his glasses. “I've got a killer headache and my tongue is a funny shade of green. I'm going back to bed. Wake me some time after New Year's."

"It's August."

"Okay, make it sometime after Valentine's Day.” Vance slouched away, his footsteps one slow thud after another as he climbed the stairs.

Just before moonrise, Daniel hovered outside Vance's bedroom door. He thought of knocking, but stopped himself. His brother needed time alone ... but not too much time.

The spell had worked, he told himself, again reaching up to knock.
He's not going to transform!
Yet something in the back of his mind insisted on further proof.

When Daniel finally rapped on the door, Vance opened it almost immediately. “I said don't wake me.” Though he looked like hell, he was fully dressed and wide awake.

"You don't look like you were asleep."

"Does a misery-induced coma count as sleep?” Vance leaned against the doorjamb.

"Come on. Have you tried calling her?"

Vance held up his hand. “No lectures, no self-help. This is all my fault. I should have been more careful. I never thought about Beth's key. I never figured she'd drop by if she thought I wasn't here. I'm an idiot. I accept that."

"Why don't you let
me
call her. I'll—"

He'd what? Beg her to take Vance back? Try to convince her that she had nothing to fear from magick?

He gave up. “I'm really sorry about this."

Vance shrugged. “It's not your fault. Are you going out?"

"Yeah."

"Where?"

To see Emilie ... I need her.
“Dunno. Wanna come?”
Please say no.

Vance rolled his eyes. “No. I'm busy booking a trip."

Daniel groaned. Why couldn't it all be over? “Aw, you're not going werewolf hunting again, are you?"

"It's in my blood. I can't give it up."

"You're insane."

"Maybe. But since I can't be reinfected, I'm safer than I was before. The other guys will be jealous."

"So the werewolves can't turn you—but they can still
eat
you."

Vance shrugged, and it hurt Daniel to see his brother so defeated. “Then I'll give them indigestion.” He closed the door.

For a moment, Daniel contemplated. He hadn't really saved Vance at all. He'd just made it easier for his brother to continue his insane pursuit of werewolves—the Garrison family business.

Vance would have given it up for Beth, but now, without her in his life, he'd probably continue to hunt werewolves ... until the day he died.

Emily braced her arms on Mystikal Excursions’ bathroom sink and stared at her reflection, which seemed to be in Technicolor. Her hair looked darker brown. And were those coppery highlights around her face? Her lips seemed fuller, redder, and her eyes were brilliant green. Was it all because of Daniel?

She felt odd, a little shaky and unsettled. She felt caged. Her hands shook when she held them straight out in front of her.

She'd had sex before and never felt like this the next day. She'd been in love before also, and never...

Or
had
she ever been in love before? Was this what it really felt like to have someone else's soul inside you? Was that why her body hummed whenever she thought of him? Was that why her intimate muscles ached to feel him again?

She jumped when Charlotte knocked on the bathroom door. “I'm starving. Are you ready to get something to eat?"

Emilie cracked opened the door. They'd spent the day cleaning the store, rearranging displays and making batches of incense and candles. Maybe the work had caused the edgy, needy feeling in her belly. “Almost ready. Why don't you get us a table at the café and I'll catch up in a minute?"

Charlotte's gaze swept her from head to toe. “Are you all right? You look flushed—no pun intended."

"I'm fine. I'll be right out.” How could she explain it to Charlotte? I've been claimed, she longed to say.
I belong to him now
.

The front door bells rang.

"I'll get that and be right back,” Charlotte said. “And I'm not going to the restaurant without you!"

Groaning, Emilie shut the bathroom door and looked in the mirror again. She didn't like what she saw. It scared her to think that she'd taken on a bit of the wolf, despite the new, voluptuous image. How much of the beast lingered inside her?

With a shuddering sigh, she shut off the light and left the bathroom. Her stomach did a 180 when she found Daniel standing in front of the counter. Charlotte waited by the door, obviously eager to escort him out.

His eyes locked with hers, and something inside her went hot, like an ember. His compelling stare held her, and though the counter separated them, she swore she felt his hands on her. Dimly, she registered the end of Charlotte's sardonic comment.

"...having dinner all by myself."

Charlotte let herself out of the shop. Emilie heard the click of the front door lock as her cousin left. “How's Vance?"

"Not good."

"How are you?"

"I feel strange.” Daniel punctuated his reply with a low sound that came from his chest, like a growl. Emilie felt it.

"Me, too."

"Is this a side effect of the spell?"

She shrugged. Why hadn't she explained it to Charlotte? Maybe her cousin could have helped them get over this. “The wolf has always been in your blood. Maybe it's in mine now, too. Because of Vance."

"Vance?” Daniel's voice went rough. His eyes flared with a sudden pang of jealousy. He moved around the counter, and she felt the heat rise between them. “What did Vance do to you?"

"When he scratched me.” She had the sudden urge to pull off her shirt and display the healing wounds on her back and shoulder. The marks were almost gone, but maybe Daniel needed to look at them, to touch the places where the wolf had gotten inside. “A scratch won't turn me, but he still may have transferred some of the—"

Daniel grabbed her, yanking her into his arms. “What about
me? I
was inside you.
I
claimed you, not
him
. What did
I
give you?"