Weathering Rock

by Mae Clair

  “Let me see.”

  “Why?” Wyn cast a glance over his shoulder. “You’re the military strategist. I’m the doctor.”

  Spurred by the knot of fear in his gut, Caleb grasped Wyn’s elbow, rigidly holding him in place. With his free hand, he tugged his nephew’s shirt aside, exposing his chest. Grisly red welts were scored like ridges across his skin.

  Caleb swore. “And you still think I didn’t kill her?” He took a lurching step backward. “I could have killed you. Cursed you like I’m cursed. Doomed you to the same degrading nightmare. Damn it, Winston! You came after me when the moon was full. Of all the infernal, foolish blunders.”

  It terrified him to realize his nephew had once again placed him first. He’d done nothing to deserve such selflessness, yet Wyn’s primary instinct had been for his safety and the continual preservation of his secret. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. “Hades! How could you be so fucking stupid?”

  Wyn lashed back with hostility. “You’re cursing out of your era, Colonel. Back off!”

  “Sixteenth century, Doctor. Look it up. I’d like to think you have brains for something.” Caleb paced off a clipped circle. He hated how Wyn continued to give of himself while he was incapable of responding in kind. It made him realize how cold he’d grown, shut off from everyone and everything, his heart unyielding as stone. “You jeopardized yourself and Arianna.”

  “I kept her safe.” Wyn emphasized the point with a vicious stab of his finger. “You’re damn lucky she listened to me and didn’t go chasing after you like some moonstruck idiot high on pheromones.”

  “You should have locked her in the basement where I couldn’t get to her,” Caleb accused. “She would have been protected behind silver. If I’d scented her, God only knows what I would have done.” His heart pounded, ballooning into his throat. “Wolves mate for life. I wouldn’t have been able to resist her. I would have hunted her. I would have–” He couldn’t finish the grisly thought. “I’m a danger to her.”

  “You’re not an animal.”

  But he was. Beast, hunter, predator.

  Killer.

  He slumped to a seat on the bed. “It wasn’t a man who ripped open your shoulder.” He looked at his nephew, his hands useless and limp in his lap. He’d washed them clean of dirt but the memory of blood remained, seared in his mind. “Winston, I’m sorry.” His chest constricted. Sorry was a word he rarely said, rarely felt. “None of this is your fault. I’m just not sure how to…” He struggled for words, fully conscience of the uncertainty in his voice. “Come to terms with what I did. If I killed that girl, I’ve cursed myself for eternity. I can’t–I won’t–burden you or Arianna with that.”

  “Stop.” Wyn sat beside him, wedging a knee on the edge of the mattress. “You’re not thinking straight. What happened last night has Seth’s fucking paw prints all over it. He knew you were out there and killed that girl to make you think you did it. The SOB can change at will. He’s messing with your head.”

  “It’s working.”

  “You could have killed me and didn’t,” Wyn persisted. “I don’t care how far gone you think you were, a part of you was in control. If you’d killed that girl, you’d know it. Stop doubting yourself. You never have before.”

  Wyn was right. He rarely, if ever, doubted himself. Command had taught him to be decisive without reservation. But this was different, involving an element he couldn’t control.

  Or could he?

  “If you’re right about Seth, he’s taunting me. I can’t keep letting him kill innocent people.”

  “Agreed. So we find the bastard and put him out of his misery.”

  Caleb smiled faintly. Wyn was nothing if not loyal. “That’s bloodthirsty talk coming from a healer. You’ve done more than enough already, Wyn. I’ll handle Seth on my own.”

  “Oh, I get it. You’re going to go lone wolf on me. Literally. Well, you can forget the hero act, Colonel. I–” He stopped, drawing up short. “Hey! You called me ‘Wyn.’”

  Caleb decided not to make an issue of it. “That is your name.”

  “Since when? The only thing that’s crossed your lips in three years is ‘Winston.’”

  “That’s a little too formal, for a friend.”

  Wyn gave a soft snort. “Wow. Seal of approval. So is that because you’re tired as hell, or because you feel like shit for trying to maul me?”

  “Winston.”

  “Okay, okay.” Laughing, Wyn held up a hand. “I know when to back off. How about if I go round up Arianna and we hold off worrying about Seth until you’ve had at least a day of sleep? You look like you could use it.”

  “A good plan.”

  “Then consider it executed, Sir.” With a snappy salute, Wyn stood and started for the door. He was halfway there when Caleb halted him, prompted by slowly creeping doubt.

  “Wyn.” He paused self-consciously, hating that he’d inflicted a wound on someone whose friendship he valued so highly. His nephew had done the unthinkable, trying to subdue him without concern for his own safety. It might have taken him three years to realize, but he suddenly understood friendship didn’t have to be metered on the scale of Seth’s betrayal. “Exactly how were you planning to stop me last night?”

  “Oh, that.” Wyn offered a chagrined shrug. “Nothing brilliant. I had a syringe with a sedative, but I dropped it and stepped on it in the heat of the moment. You, uh, caught me by surprise. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen that side of you.”

  Caleb sobered, remembering his first transformation, an event that had left them both questioning their sanity. Shortly after, he and Wyn come up with the idea of the cell in the basement. A prison barred with silver.

  “Where was Arianna?”

  Wyn shifted. “In the car. At least I think she was. I don’t remember a whole lot after, uh…” He dipped his head, indicating his shoulder.

  “Does it hurt?”

  “Not anymore.” Wyn reached for the door, hesitating with his hand on the knob. “I know I screwed up, Caleb. We’ve been dealing with your lycanthropy for so long, I was lax about it. I should have known better. Before you and Arianna showed up in the hallway this morning, Drake told me the police had several calls last night reporting howling noises. They had two patrol cars in the area investigating. It’s how they found the girl so quickly. If they’d seen you…” He inhaled unevenly. “When I think they might have shot you–”

  “Werewolves are impervious to bullets. Unless they’re silver.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  Caleb nodded somberly. “I won’t make the same mistake again. I promise that.”

  “We won’t make the same mistake again.” With a twist of his hand, Wyn tugged open the door. He hesitated on the threshold, casting a candid glance over his shoulder. “You can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but I’ve gotten used to having you around. I’d like to keep it that way.”

  Caleb arched a brow. “What happens when I’m able to return to my own time?”

  “That’s different.” Wyn dismissed the idea. “Take a shower and get some sleep. Last night was worse than usual. You need the rest.”

  Caleb listened to the fall of his footsteps retreating down the hall.

  What would happen when he returned to his own time? The question had made Wyn uncomfortable. For the first time in three years, it made Caleb uncomfortable too. Could he walk away from Arianna? Walk away from Wyn?

  Returning to the past would plunge him into the heart of the Civil War. Nearly two more years of musket fire, blood, death and destruction. With no guarantee he’d survive the next battle or wouldn’t end up a casualty of Libby Prison. If he and Seth hadn’t been transported to the future, would he have died in the ambush, or possibly ended a captive of the Confederacy?

  He strongly believed in the cause he’d fought for, but he knew the outcome. The war would end no differently with or without him. He’d left family and casual friends in the past, but there’d be
en no one like Wyn and certainly no one like Arianna.

  He loved her. Wholly, utterly, completely. For three years, his only goal had been to break the curse of the werewolf and return to his own time. But that was before Arianna entwined her life with his, breaking through his barricade of aloof reserve. She’d touched his heart in a way no woman had.

  The thought of life without her was too painful to contemplate. Time held no meaning. Regardless of the year or century, he needed to know their bond was eternal, like the forever union of the wolf and its soul mate. He wanted to wake each morning to find her nestled beside him, the heat of her body soaking into his, the satin of her hair splayed over his shoulder. He wanted to end each night, kissing her to sleep, expressing his love with touch and passion. He wanted to grow old with her, give her children and grandchildren.

  He’d shielded himself from feelings for so long, keeping others at bay, recognizing the depth of his emotion staggered him. To make matters worse, Arianna had been with Wyn last night, searching for him when he might have harmed her.

  “Fool woman!” The thought launched him restlessly across the room. She was damnably stubborn and opinionated. In his day, women were docile. Yes, they had personal convictions, but they didn’t flagrantly defy a man to his face. And they certainly didn’t parade around in a Playboy Bunny outfit or engage in full moon hunts for werewolves. Thank God Wyn had the foresight to leave her at Weathering Rock that morning. He didn’t think he could live with the thought of her seeing him as Wyn had found him, naked, covered in filth and blood.

  Groaning, he dragged a hand over his face, blocking the wretched thought. Wolves mated for life. He believed in that same eternal monogamy for man. He’d always known when he’d found the right woman he’d want no other.

  He just hadn’t foreseen them being separated by two centuries.

  Chapter 25

  Arianna nuzzled closer to the man beside her. Caleb was sound asleep, one arm hooked around her shoulders, the other tossed above his head. Gently, she smoothed a hand over his jaw, feeling the foreign prick of beard stubble. He was usually clean-shaven.

  She’d slept most of the day at his side, and then gone downstairs to have dinner with Wyn around six. Afterward, she’d made a short trip to her townhouse for an overnight bag and a change of clothes. Wyn seemed to accept that she’d be part of Weathering Rock until Caleb was on his feet again.

  It was almost eleven when worry and a longing to be with him had sent her scurrying back to his bed. Now, cuddled against his side, she couldn’t stop touching him, grazing his skin with her fingertips, grateful for the searing warmth of his body soaking into hers.

  In the moonlight, his flesh was streaked with marble and smoke, the hard slabs of his chest and abdomen chiseled like stone. She hungered for his touch, the male fullness of him swelling inside her, making her delirious with pleasure. Given the crippling weight of his fatigue, she was grateful to cuddle.

  When she thought about the previous night–the horrific sounds coming from the parlor, and the panic she’d felt when she’d found his clothes in tatters on the floor–she shivered. She tried not to think of how he’d looked in werewolf form, frozen in the bone-white headlights of her car. They’d talked briefly after his shower, but she’d sensed he was uncomfortable discussing what the curse did to him. Once he’d fallen asleep, he’d slept straight through, exhausted by the brutal demands of transformation.

  She smiled affectionately, watching his face. As if sensing her gaze, he grunted softly and turned in his sleep, settling closer. Contented by the warmth of his body, Arianna allowed her eyes to drift shut.

  Soon she would have to tell him about her conversation with Rick.

  * * * *

  “I don’t think this is the best time.” Arianna paced in the center hall, her cellphone pressed to her ear, a prickly bundle of nerves sprouting in her stomach. Sunlight streamed through the front door, soaking the floor in a bright tapestry of butterscotch and toasted gold.

  Breakfast had been pleasant enough, the table formally set with bone china and bright silver. The latter had made her uneasy until she’d seen Caleb use the flatware without issue.

  “I don’t understand,” she’d said. “If silver is toxic to you, then how can you–”

  “It only affects me when I’m close to changing,” he explained. “I’m not particularly fond of it otherwise, but I’ve learned to adapt. I’ve built up a tolerance over the last three years, thanks to Wyn’s treatments. Twenty-four hours either side of a transformation, I can’t touch it. Aside from that, it doesn’t bother me.”

  She’d puzzled it through. “So that’s why Seth reacted so violently when Wyn slashed him with the letter opener at Lauren’s party? Because he can change any time, he’s always susceptible?”

  Caleb nodded. “There are downsides to being an alpha werewolf.”

  They’d tried not to dwell on the previous night, specifically the tragic loss of a young girl’s life. Afterward, Arianna had helped Wyn clear the table and load the dishwasher. Within seconds her cellphone rang, announcing a call from Rick Rothrock on the display. Excusing herself, she’d retreated to the hallway.

  “Rick, I haven’t had a chance to talk to Caleb about our conversation.”

  “I don’t care, Ari. I want to see my son. I’m halfway to Weathering Rock now.”

  “That’s not a good idea.”

  “Why? You can’t tell me he doesn’t know who I am. He got the same jolt of memories I did at Lauren’s party. I want to see him and I don’t need you or anyone else to introduce me. Crazy as it sounds, he is my son.”

  “Rick–”

  “If you’re there, I’ll see you soon.”

  “Rick, wait.” Arianna blinked, listening to the monotone hiss of an abruptly dead line. Of all the inopportune times for him to abandon his usual self-centered fickleness, he had to choose now.

  “Annie?”

  Caleb’s voice startled her. She whirled in a circle, guiltily shoving the phone behind her.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Um…”

  He looked better this morning, though still not completely recovered. He wore jeans, the heat never seeming to bother him as it did others, and a light green cotton shirt, the sleeves cuffed on his forearms.

  “I… You have a visitor on the way,” she said clumsily, wincing for fumbling through something so vital.

  “Visitor?” Caleb’s brow climbed into his bangs.

  God, she loved when he did that, finding something maddeningly sensual in his piqued curiosity. Hastily, she relayed the details of her conversation with Rick. His feelings, confusion, and most of all, his compelling need to see his son.

  “My father is coming here?” Caleb looked like the wind had been knocked out of him. “Now?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “It’s not ideal.” Frazzled, he paced a short distance away. “I haven’t had time to think about seeing him, here, in this century. What it means, how it fits. Damn.”

  Arianna stepped closer. “You have to see him at some point.”

  “I know that. It’s just…” He looked bewildered, his eyes shadowed by doubt. “The Rick Rothrock of your century is nothing like the father I remember. The last time I saw him was after Gettysburg. All I had was two hours before my regiment headed to New York. He was in his sixties. Relieved to see me, anxious because of the battle and worried for my safety. How do I equate that man with the one I saw at your friend’s party? He’s no older than I am.”

  Younger, she thought, but didn’t say it. “He has all of the memories and feelings of the father you remember. When the war ended and you didn’t return home, he and your mother thought you’d been killed in battle. Your mother died believing that.”

  He winced.

  Arianna held onto his arm. “Don’t you understand how important it is for him to see you? Not only that. He’s lived through the same thing you have, transported to another era. Maybe he can help you.”<
br />
  Reluctantly, he nodded. “You’re right. I just wish I knew more about him. Now, in this century. At the very least, I prefer to meet him in private. I’ll be in the barn.”

  She watched him turn and head down the rear hallway to the back door. He was clearly feeling better today, but nowhere near prime condition. Wyn had given him an injection before breakfast, along with a vitamin supplement to help combat the rigorous demands of the Siren Moon. She was beginning to learn more about werewolf lore through the bits and pieces Caleb had told her. She’d already decided to corner Wyn and learn all she could about Caleb’s condition from the source closest to him. What better time for that than while he was occupied at the barn with Rick?

  With a final glance at her moody lover, Arianna headed toward the kitchen where Wyn was busy brewing a fresh pot of coffee.

  Ten minutes later, she heard the slam of a car door and knew Rick Rothrock had arrived.

  * * * *

  “It’s all right.” Caleb rubbed a hand over Ranger’s coat, talking softly as he moved into the stall. The horse was often jittery around him in the days immediately preceding and following his change, as if the chestnut could sense the taint of the wolf. The uneasiness usually passed within a few minutes as Caleb took the time to soothe with voice and touch. “It’s been awhile since we’ve been for a ride. Maybe tonight.”

  He rubbed behind the horse’s ears. “I’ll bring Arianna and let you flirt with her, how’s that?” He grinned when the chestnut bobbed its head and nudged against him. He needed something to distract him, the thought of seeing his father harder to accept than he’d originally anticipated. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see him or that he didn’t love the man who’d raised him, just that everything was different.

  The father he knew was in his sixties. A man of reputation and respect who’d built an empire through careful planning and investment. He was fair-minded and faithful, a loving husband and an attentive parent. They’d routinely butted heads, but their relationship had been stronger than any disagreement that came between them. Richard DeCardian had been a leader, decisive and strong-willed, unorthodox in his ways of thinking but successful despite unconventional ideas and his approach to life.