by Mae Clair
He held her wrists, pinning her arms to the wall. “Listen to me!” His eyes were wild, his face inches from hers. With a single frenetic skip of her heart, she realized he was as terrified as she was.
“There’s nothing in the room. Only Caleb. Do you hear me, Arianna? It’s Caleb.”
“No!” She shook her head, unwilling to believe what he told her, but another ear-splitting snarl fanned her fear higher. Nothing made sense. Not the stark fear in Wyn’s eyes, the sweat-slickened grip of his palms crushing her wrists or the chillingly inhuman sounds coming from the parlor. The man she loved could never sound so guttural or barbarous.
“I don’t care!” She ripped free of his hold. “I don’t care if he’s by himself or in there with something else. You have to help him!”
She lunged for the door, but Wyn grappled her around the waist, holding fast. They were still struggling when the sound of shattering glass rang through the narrow center hall of Weathering Rock.
Wyn froze, his arms cinched around her waist. For the span of three pulse-beats neither breathed, trapped in the deafening roar of absolute silence. Then a wild, tortured wail erupted from somewhere in the distance.
“Shit!” Wyn thrust her aside and flung the chair out of the way. He snapped a finger under her nose. “Don’t move.” Cracking the door, he peered inside. His eyes widened in alarm when he looked in the direction of the windows. “That’s just fucking great!”
He flat-palmed the door, sending it crashing against the inside wall with a vicious slap. Glass crunched under his shoes as he stalked into the room. She followed behind, acutely aware of cold dread mushrooming awake in her stomach.
The room was a shambles. Most of the furniture had been overturned and the upholstery shredded. One amber hurricane lamp lay in pieces on the floor, its twin miraculously intact on a marble-topped table. Deep slashes were scored over the wall and door frame as if something had clawed at them repeatedly. The entire front window had been shattered and the draperies ripped aside. A few jagged pieces of glass poked upright from the sill, all which remained of the pane.
“Caleb?” Arianna spied her lover’s jeans and shirt on the floor. The clothing was barely recognizable, ripped and in tatters. She bent and clasped the remnants to her chest. “Caleb!”
“He’s not here, Ari.”
“What do you mean he’s not here? He has to be!” Still clutching the shirt, she turned to the broken window. “Caleb, where are you? Caleb, please!” The tremor started in her ankles and hurtled upward, crashing over her in a wave of adrenalin, shock and fear. “Damn it, where is he!”
“Out there.” Wyn waved at the darkness beyond the window where the soft pewter of twilight had deepened to the ebony of a moon-drenched night.
“I don’t understand.”
“You wouldn’t.” He thrust past her into his den. She followed as far as the doorway, watching as he pulled keys from his pocket to unlock a small cabinet behind his desk. When he reached inside, she saw the flash of a syringe.
“What are you doing?” she asked worriedly.
“Taking precautions.” He capped the needle and shoved it into his pocket. Brushing past her, he headed for the front door.
Arianna clung to his heels. “Where are you going?”
“To find him.”
“With a needle?”
“It’s only a sedative.”
“I’m coming with you.”
“The hell you are.”
“Listen to me, Wyn–”
“No, you listen.” He spun to face her. “I know you care about him, but he’s dangerous right now.”
“He’s Caleb.”
“Not tonight he isn’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t have time for this, Arianna.”
“Then make time. I’m not leaving until I see Caleb and know he’s all right. You can’t expect me to walk away after what I heard in that room. What I saw. How do you explain–”
“All right!” He blew out an exasperated breath. “Look, I’m going to make this short and sweet since you already know about his past. He’s probably going to kick my ass for telling you, but after what happened tonight you’d figure it out eventually. You might as well have the inside track on all of his secrets.”
Something cold and scaly wormed into her gut. “What are you talking about?”
Wyn inhaled. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but Caleb is a werewolf.”
She blinked. “A what?”
“A werewolf. You know.” Agitated, he waved a hand in the air. “Full moon, rips off his clothes, changes into a hairy beast. What the hell do you think happened tonight?”
She stiffened, repulsed he would lie when she was upset. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Oh. So you believe he was born in 1833 and traveled through time, but not that he changes into a wolf every twenty-nine days?” Shaking his head, he strode for the front door. “You sure chose a fine time to get picky about your delusions. Do me a favor and get out of here before you wind up hurt.”
“Wait!” He was halfway down the porch steps before Arianna launched herself in his wake. She caught up to him as he neared the driveway, heading for the garage.
Her heart double-timed, and fear backwashed into her throat. She’d always believed werewolves were a thing of myth, but she’d thought the same of time travel, and that had been blown out of the sky. After what she’d witnessed tonight, she had two options: She either believed something had been in the parlor with Caleb or she believed Caleb had become the creature in the parlor.
She shivered. But a werewolf?
It would explain the silver glint of his eyes and how they often glowed. Hadn’t she already mentally compared that luminescent sheen to the eerie radiance of a wolf’s eyes at night? Wyn didn’t strike her as a man to make up stories.
“I’ll drive,” she decided, extending her hand for his keys.
He nailed her with a perturbed glance from the corner of his eye.
“You’re going to look for him, right?” she persisted, jogging at his side. “Drive around and try to spot him? Well, I can drive and you can look.”
Wyn’s scowl became a full-fledged frown. He stopped to gaze down on her. “I’m not sure you understand how dangerous Caleb is right now. There’s a special room in the basement, barred with silver, I normally lock him in for the night. When he changes like this, he isn’t human. He has no concept of right and wrong, compassion or emotional attachments. He’s a wolf with the primal instincts of a hunter. A killer.”
She swallowed hard, refusing to be intimidated by the clingy knot of terror spreading through her stomach. “I want to help. Please, Wyn. I’ll stay in the car. I just need–” She broke off, unable to finish. “I’m in love with him,” she blurted, hoping the confession would make him understand her desperation.
“Damn.” He looked away and gave the ground a savage kick, muttering under his breath. A second later, he caught her wrist and plopped the keys into her palm. “You do what I tell you, when I tell you.”
“Deal.”
“And you do not. Under any circumstances. Go near him.”
Arianna bit her lip. “What about you? If he’s as dangerous as you say, aren’t you worried he might–”
Wyn nudged her toward the garage. “Do the driving. I’ll worry about the rest.”
Chapter 22
Arianna flexed her hands on the steering wheel, anxiously waiting while Wyn scoured the fields and woods off the side of the road. They’d zigzagged and crossed a good five miles, randomly pulling onto the shoulder. Per their usual routine, she waited in the car while Wyn took a flashlight and a silver butter knife, hastily rummaged as afterthought from the kitchen.
“Not as a weapon,” he’d assured her. “It’s blunt as hell. I’d just feel better carrying something silver in case he forgets who makes his coffee every morning.”
She’d learned a lot driving around with Wyn, including several tidbits
about Seth that Caleb deliberately omitted. Namely, that he was a werewolf too. An alpha wolf who was able to change at will. He was also the man responsible for cursing Caleb with lycanthropy. Daphne would never believe it, even if Arianna could share the truth. Which, of course, she couldn’t. She was going to have to find another way of severing her sister’s attraction to Caleb’s rival. Any other time, she’d let Daphne’s fickle instincts run their natural track, but she feared for her sister’s safety. Seth wasn’t playing fair.
She was already beginning to understand the strength of her reaction to Caleb, prior to becoming romantically involved with him. Animal attraction and enhanced pheromones. It accounted for his stamina in bed too. Nice side effect, that one.
Wyn had shared a little of what Caleb had endured over the last three years–locked up each month in a windowless cell, sheer torture when his primal instinct was to hunt. He’d done that by choice, determined never to taste human blood, hoping to reverse the curse. The only way of doing that, Wyn told her, was to kill Seth. If any man deserved death, it was the one-time friend who’d betrayed Caleb and subjected him to three years of hell. Finally, she understood his headaches.
“From the injections I give him,” Wyn explained. “We’re constantly experimenting and adjusting the dosage. If it weren’t for the drugs I pump into him, I’d be locking him in that cell more often. As it stands, the only time he can’t fight off the change is during an actual full moon. The day after, his stamina is shot, but the drugs help with his recovery.”
It explained why he’d been so fatigued the night of their first dinner at Weathering Rock. She could recall standing on the back porch, staring up at the moon and having Caleb tell her it had begun to wane. “The moon and I are well acquainted,” he’d said at the time.
And the animal she’d seen from her bedroom her first night at Weathering Rock… Placing everything in perspective, she understood it had been Seth in werewolf form. He was the one responsible for savaging the deer Lucas found, and killing the man out for an evening walk.
She shivered, giving an unconscious start when Wyn opened the door and plopped into the passenger’s seat.
“Nothing.” He sounded exasperated. “Let’s circle back toward the house. Wolves are territorial like most animals. Caleb won’t roam far.”
Arianna cranked the ignition to life and flicked on the headlights. She pulled the car onto the road. “I wish you wouldn’t call him an animal.”
“I was talking about wolves in general. Maybe you don’t get it, but I’m not out here for my health. I’m out here for him.”
“Sorry.” She tightened her hands on the wheel. Her nerves were toast, her stomach balled in a knot. She reached across the seat and patted his knee. “You’re a good friend to him, Wyn.”
“Caleb doesn’t have friends. Ask him sometime and he’ll tell you he has no use for them.” He glanced out the side window, his voice dropping to a mutter. “He’s got no use for a brother either.”
“That’s heartless.”
He grunted. “I’m just the guy who supplies his drugs, Ari.”
“I refuse to believe that.” It disturbed her to think Caleb could be so cold, but it probably came easy for him. Too easy. He’d been a commander during the war, a role that required him to distance himself from his troops on all but a professional level. He was often arrogant and domineering, and could be maddeningly detached when he chose.
For a time they rode in silence, Wyn scrutinizing the changing countryside through his open window. The road was mostly deserted, with only one car passing in the opposite direction as they neared Weathering Rock. The full moon hung like a jewel in the sky, suspended on a necklace of stars. Engrossed in her thoughts, Arianna banked through a curve.
“Stop!” Wyn ordered.
She slammed on the brakes. The car hadn’t even rolled to a halt before he kicked open the door and scrabbled outside. Arianna leaned forward, craning her neck to see what prompted his outburst.
Wyn bolted into the trees, the yellow cone of his flashlight bobbing wildly as he zigzagged through pockets of hemlock and ash. “Caleb!” he yelled.
She eased the car off the road, onto the shoulder, holding her breath. A rustling noise, followed by a snarl of challenge, made her tense. Her heart lurched to her throat.
“Caleb?”
The wolf that darted into the path of her headlights was leaner than the animal she’d seen at Weathering Rock, but just as large. She froze, frightened and transfixed at the same time. Could this creature, this wolf-like animal, really be the man she loved?
The wolf’s coat was the color of wet sand, its eyes a glittering combination of winter skies and silver. It kept its head low to the ground and paced restlessly, its quick, loping stride strangely familiar.
“Oh, Caleb.” Arianna clutched the steering wheel. Even with everything Wyn had told her, she’d maintained a shred of doubt. Hoped that he’d been wrong and that the man she loved didn’t suffer from an archaic curse. Forgetting her promise to remain in the car, she reached for the door handle.
“Arianna, stay where you are!”
Wyn’s command froze her to the spot. She’d never known him to be reckless, but he bolted from the trees, directly into the path of the wolf. His face was tightly drawn, telegraphing an internal struggle to remain calm. By contrast, the wolf snarled and snapped its jaws, its thick fur bristling upright along its neck.
“Easy,” Wyn soothed, taking a cautious step forward. He slipped the syringe from his pocket and flicked the protective tip from the needle. “Don’t make this difficult, Caleb. I’m not in the mood to get mauled.”
Arianna clung to the door handle, too tense to breathe. Without warning, the wolf breached the distance to Wyn with two powerful thrusts of its hind legs. She caught a flash of moonlight on the syringe before the doctor reeled backward, crushed beneath the animal’s massive weight. He struck the grill of the car and stumbled, crumpling in a heap on the asphalt.
“Wyn!” Arianna leaned on the horn, hoping the blare would spook Caleb into running. When it had no effect, she thrust open the door and stumbled from the car. Wyn and Caleb rolled into the long grass on the side of the road, tangled together in an incomprehensible blur of legs, arms and fur. She heard a wet tearing sound that could only be the sickening rip of flesh.
Wyn screamed.
“Oh, dear God!”
Arianna looked for the syringe, but it had broken in half. The sedative leeched into a patch of black road tar, glistening wetly by the front tire. “No!” She scrambled for the needle, the only weapon remaining. Before she could attack, Wyn slashed the wolf with the butter knife. She doubted it did any significant damage, but the sting of silver sent Caleb bolting into the trees with a furious howl.
“Wyn!” Arianna hurried to his side.
“I-I’m okay.” He sat upright, his face the unhealthy gray of old dishwater. In the darkness, Arianna spied a thin trail of blood dribbling from his shoulder.
“Let me see.” She touched his arm gingerly, wincing in sympathy at the claw marks gouged across his shoulder and chest. “Did he bite you?”
“No. He could have killed me, but didn’t.” Wyn wedged a leg under himself and made an effort to stand. He sighed when the feeble attempt failed. “Help me up, huh?”
She got him on his feet, steadying him when he teetered against her. He braced his hands on his knees and sucked greedy gulps of the night air.
“As far as we know, he hasn’t tasted human blood. He never bit me, Ari. If-if he can hold on until dawn…”
“We have to try again,” she insisted, supporting his arm so he wouldn’t topple.
“No. I dropped the syringe when Caleb jumped me. It’s cracked. Useless. It was the only sedative I had.”
“But we can’t leave him!”
“Arianna, he attacked me. I had to slash him with the knife. I’ve got no other means of subduing him. We’ve just got to pray he survives without hurting himself or anyone el
se. When the sun rises, he’ll be free of the curse.”
Arianna glanced at the sky, thinking the night had never seemed so brittle or cold.
Or so long.
* * * *
The first rays of dawn knifed under Caleb’s lashes, igniting an ache on the inside of his skull. His cheek was pressed into a bed of pine needles, sticky and rank with blood. He groaned, attempting to move his legs, and was rewarded by the chilled tingle of dew-soaked grass against his naked skin. His body protested, every muscle cramping in violent retaliation. Grimacing, he closed his eyes.
“No you don’t. Stay awake.”
Something lightweight floated over him, enveloping him in a blissful pocket of warmth. He cracked an eyelid, gathering the blanket closer to his throat, not caring where in the hell it had come from. That was when he saw his hands, crusted with dried blood.
“Hades!”
He jerked upright and flung the blanket to his waist. The hasty movement jackknifed fresh pain into his skull, and he pitched to the side with an involuntary grunt.
“I’ve got you.” Wyn crouched beside him, steadying him with a hand on his shoulder.
Caleb blinked, barely able to decipher his nephew’s features through a distorting haze of pain.
“Here, this will help.” Wyn offered a bottle of water. “Small sips,” he cautioned when Caleb would have downed the entire container in one thirsty gulp.
With effort, he made himself go slow. He lowered the bottle and took a steadying breath, his eyes reduced to slits by the witch-fire laddering into his neck and shoulders. Thankfully, he was able to string together a muddle of semi-rational thought.
He was sitting in a cluster of pines, naked except for a plaid blanket draped around his hips, the ground stained with ugly splotches of red. There was blood on his hands, more splattered on his forearms and chest. He could feel it clotted and caked on his cheek, pulling the skin tight around his mouth. He dropped the water, staring in horror at his hands. “What the hell did I do? Kill someone?”
“Don’t jump to conclusions, Caleb.” Wyn lifted the corner of the blanket, gruffly wiping the blood from his face. “I’m sure it was an animal.”