by Jane Godman
Sebastian shrugged. “Just offering an idea. You know who we need to ask?”
Madden nodded. “Lowell.”
Lowell was another member of the brotherhood. He was also the world’s leading expert on werewolf history and folklore. If there was such a thing as a werewolf who didn’t know about her wolfness, wolfnicity—what the hell was the word Madden was looking for?—then Lowell would know if it was possible, or if it had ever happened before.
Madden reached in his pocket for his cell phone. “I’ll ask him.”
“Before you do that, tell me about these test results.” Sebastian lowered his voice as a group of nurses walked past. “When you called, you said you wanted me to locate them and destroy them.”
Madden shook his head. “Change of plan. If there’s the slightest chance your theory might be right and Maria Delgardo is a werewolf who doesn’t know she’s one of us, I want to keep those test results intact and get them analyzed by one of our own doctors.”
A werewolf specialist would be able to tell him once and for all whether Maria was an Arctic werewolf. If she was? He thought of the vulnerable woman who had been through so much at the hands of the Cage Killer. His heart clenched at the memory of her bravery. Despite the pain and trauma she had suffered, her first thought had been to try and give him the details that would help him catch the killer. There was a strength and pride about her that shone through everything that had happened to her. That made him want to know Maria Delgardo the woman, not Maria Delgardo the victim. It made him even more furious with himself for blowing it all by asking her the question about shifting. Even if he was proved right in all of this. If, by some incredible quirk of fate, Maria was a werewolf but she didn’t know it, how would he ever begin a conversation with her about her werewolf DNA?
“So you want me to get into the lab and steal the test results?” Sebastian asked.
“Yes.” Madden grinned at his friend’s expression. “Come on, you know this is the sort of challenge you love.”
Sebastian returned the grin. “You got me. Give me an hour or two and I’ll have your test results for you.”
Madden felt a slight easing of the tension that held him in its grip. He wasn’t off the hook yet. Maria might still decide to file a complaint about the crazy detective who had decided the best way to help her recover from her ordeal was to suggest she might be a werewolf. At least he had a plan . . . or something that resembled a plan. Unfortunately, he couldn’t see how it would take him a single step closer to finding the Cage Killer.
Chapter Three
Although what Madden had said about werewolves was totally bizarre, there was something in it that tugged at Maria’s consciousness. Had the Cage Killer used that word? Shifting. She knew he hadn’t mentioned werewolves. She was sure she’d have remembered that.
Or was it something deep within her? Good lord, do I find Madden so attractive that I’m searching for an extreme way to please him? Trying to find something in my background that means I really might be a werewolf? She might not know much about who she was, but that was taking things just a bit too far.
Her adoptive parents had told her everything they knew about her background, which admittedly wasn’t much. She had been one of those sad cases that were reported now and then on the TV news programs. Maria had been an abandoned baby, found naked in a train station restroom. The police had named her after the station worker who found her. Appeals for her parents to come forward had been futile and, after spending the first couple years of her life in an orphanage, she had been adopted soon after her second birthday.
Her adoptive parents had been an older couple who already had an eight-year-old son. Tom and Christine Delgardo had adored the new addition to their family and, although Caspar, her adoptive brother, had been less welcoming to his new sister, her life with them had been happy and unremarkable.
I might not know who I am, but I know I’m not a werewolf. How could she be sure? Well, I don’t howl at the moon. I feel no desire to kill other people by ripping out their throats. And I have never sprouted fur or fangs. Unless I’ve been watching the wrong films and reading all the wrong books, I think they are the key indicators.
But Maria had always felt different. It was a difference that was hard to explain. Call it separateness. Some people—those who didn’t like her, namely a few of the girls in high school—called it aloofness. It kept her apart from other people. It had never bothered her. On the contrary, she liked it. She had always assumed she wasn’t a people person. I’m not a wolf person either. She would still have said that was the case . . . until she’d rested her cheek against a muscular shoulder a few hours ago. Where was all that aloofness then?
Doesn’t matter. The handsome cop thinks I might be a werewolf. He also believes he definitely is a werewolf. It was all too weird. Maybe I was better off taking my chances in that cage.
She was tired of thinking about it. The painkillers and sedatives they’d given her were finally kicking in. She might actually be able to sleep. A clean, almost-whole body, a comfortable bed, and the absence of a crazed killer were things she had only been able of dream of twenty-four hours ago. Sleep was a luxury that had eluded her during her captivity. It seemed like a good idea right now. Her head might take some time to recover from her ordeal, but she was determined to make sure it did.
As she lay back on her pillows, she was surprised at the speed with which slumber tugged at her consciousness. No nightmares, please. Let him not have claimed my subconscious.
She dozed on and off for some time, aware of the nurses coming in and out of her room to check on her, their brisk presence comforting and unobtrusive. When she finally fell into a deeper sleep, she was jerked abruptly awake by something that felt different. She lay still for a moment, analyzing it with an increasingly raised heart rate.
This wasn’t the efficient bustle of a medical presence. It was stealthier, quieter, yet horribly familiar. It felt like him.
Her eyes flew open. As soon as she tried to turn to look in the direction of the presence, a hand clamped down on her forehead and another wrapped around her throat, holding her in position. She could smell it again, that hateful, rotten scent. Her gag reflex kicked in, along with raw, overwhelming terror. As she opened her mouth to scream, he shoved a cloth past her lips, so far down her throat she was forced to concentrate all her energy on not choking.
“You let me down, Maria.” Her body jerked wildly in an attempt to get away. Calmly, he punched her in the face. It was a reminder of all the blows he had given her while she was in the cage and she subsided with a whimper, hating herself for her weakness, unable to respond any other way. “You were the one. You were so close to shifting. I needed to watch you do it, but you didn’t stay. You didn’t see it all the way through to the end.”
He moved into the line of her sight and that scared her more than anything else. He was letting her see his face. That meant he was going to kill her. Her eyes scanned his features, trying to latch on to something familiar. She didn’t know him, but he looked so normal. He was the sort of person you would pass in the street and not give a second glance. How could that be? How could a monster look so much like an ordinary man?
She saw the silvery gleam of the knife in his hand and something inside her lurched. Shifted. She couldn’t speak because of the gag, but a sound, a deep rumbling noise, started in her chest and moved up into her throat. Did I just growl? Around the gag, her lips drew back in a snarl. She was half starved, tortured, in fear of her life . . . none of those things mattered as she jerked upright, her remaining fingers inside their bandages curling into claws as she prepared to launch herself at him.
She took a moment to register the look of triumph in his eyes at the same time that she felt this newness inside her, as this other being that was part of her struggled for release. Then a footstep sounded outside the door and she heard one of the nurses call out to someone asking for a new temperature chart.
“So close, Maria.
” That high-pitched voice was regretful as he shook his head and turned toward the open window. “You and I are unfinished business. You can try to hide from me, but I will always find you.”
With those words, he was gone and Maria subsided back onto the pillows, her breathing harsh and uneven.
* * *
“He was here?” Madden was so incensed he could hardly speak as he followed Callie Monroe along the corridor toward Maria’s room. “How the hell did he get in?”
“He climbed in through the window.” Callie winced as though waiting for a storm to break over her head.
Madden clenched his fists at his sides. He wanted to rage and shout, but ultimately it was his responsibility if the Cage Killer had managed to get into Maria’s room. Okay, he had asked Callie to secure the room, but he should have checked it had been done. It was no good making excuses and saying they couldn’t have foreseen how daring he would be. They were dealing with the most dangerous serial killer they had ever come across. They couldn’t afford any lapses. Now Madden had to find out what damage had been done as a result of this oversight. If Maria had been hurt . . .
When he walked into the room, Maria was sitting upright, her eyes wide and her face pale. There were a number of nurses clustered around the bed. One of them was tending a fresh swelling on her cheek. It had clearly been caused by a punch. At the sight of that new injury Madden’s inner wolf went wild with rage. It took all his strength to keep from shifting right there and then and running out in pursuit of the bastard who had done this to her.
When she saw him, Maria’s gaze fastened on his face as though he was her lifeline. Madden was astonished at the raw emotion he could see in her eyes. “Don’t go.”
“I won’t leave you without a police guard again. It shouldn’t have happened this time.” He didn’t waste time in trying to explain the mistakes his team had made.
“No.” She shook her head. Her expression was tight and determined. “I mean you. Don’t you leave me.”
He took the seat next to her bed. “Tell me what happened.”
“Alone.” Her eyes swept the room. Although she was clearly shaken, she seemed perfectly in control of her emotions. “Just you and me.”
“Okay.” He nodded to Callie. “Get everyone else out of here.”
When they were alone, he spoke quietly. “Is that better?”
Maria took a deep breath. “Thank you.” She turned to look over her shoulder at the window. “Is it locked?”
Madden went over to window and checked it, making sure she could see what he was doing. “Yes, it’s locked.” He returned to his seat. “We’ll get you moved to a room on another floor.”
Her eyes were huge twin pools of gold on his face. “He said there was no place I could hide from him. That we were unfinished business and he would find me wherever I was.”
“What do you think he meant by that?” Madden asked. “That he still wants to kill you?”
“Yes, but he also talked about what you said. About shifting.”
He sat up straighter in his seat. “What did he say exactly?”
“He said I was the one. That I was so close to shifting, that he wanted to watch me do it, but I hadn’t stayed with him.” Her breath hitched. “Then he pulled out a knife. I thought he was going to kill me.”
“Was that when the nurse interrupted you?”
“No. Before the nurse came in something happened. Inside me.” She frowned. “It’s hard to explain, but it felt like I changed, became someone different. Something deep inside me altered and, just for a few moments, I could have killed him.” Her expression was confused. “I mean really killed him. Gone at him with my bare hands and ripped into him with my teeth. He saw it, too. He knew it and he”—she shook her head—“he liked it. It was what he wanted to see. So I’m wondering if your question about werewolves was such a strange one after all.”
Madden took a moment to register what she was saying. “Maria, how could you be a werewolf and not know about it?”
Confusion filled her eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t understand any of this. Until today werewolves were something I read about in books and saw in the movies. But I know what I felt. Unless what you said put an idea into my head . . . a head he’d already messed with?”
“Okay.” She was getting distressed and the last thing he wanted was to upset her further. “Let’s leave that for now. I know someone who might be able to help with that side of things.” Madden placed his hand on her wrist, pleased at the way she relaxed under his touch. “Did you see his face this time?”
“Yes, he didn’t bother to hide himself. And he spoke to me at length. I think he was planning to kill me, but that nurse interrupted him.”
“Can you describe him?” Madden couldn’t believe they might finally have the breakthrough they had been waiting for.
“In detail.” She bit her lip and raised her injured hands. “He made a mistake when he was cutting off my fingers. He started on the wrong hand. If the right one still works, I might even be able to draw him.”
Madden was amazed all over again at her strength. “Maria, I could hug you.”
“Please do.” Something crackled in the air between them for a moment. It flared even brighter as he met her eyes, then became painfully intense as she drew a shuddering breath. “I mean it. I need you to hold me.”
He didn’t stop to think about ethics. The only thing that mattered was how much she needed him. Underlying that there was another feeling. As his arms closed around her frail body, Madden got a deeper sense of how much he needed her. But where had that come from? He barely knew her. She was a victim in one of his cases. She needed his protection and his impartiality. He had to get a grip on this new, inappropriate longing and do it fast. He told himself that as she rested her head on his shoulder with a little sigh. He told himself again as he raised his hand and gently stroked her shaved head. He kept repeating it as he pressed his lips to the fresh bruise on her cheek.
* * *
Lowell had been badly injured almost two years ago when the Brotherhood of the Midnight Sun had fought their sworn enemy, the werewolf bounty hunter, Jean Chastel. Although Lowell was now fully restored to health, he still walked with a trace of a limp. His determination to ensure that his injury didn’t impair his ability to remain part of the unique Arctic werewolf fighting force shone through. One wing of Lowell’s vast Fairbanks mansion had been transformed into a rehabilitation center complete with hydrotherapy pool, gym, and his own private massage and physiotherapy programs.
The good thing about being part of the brotherhood, Madden decided, as he called Lowell’s number, was that you never felt embarrassed asking your billionaire intellectual friend a huge favor.
Lowell listened carefully while Madden outlined the details of Maria’s case. “I want to help, but I have to ask a question, because this is my home and my wife and son live here. How will you make sure this murderer can’t get to her if she comes to stay here?”
Madden was already one step ahead of him. “The official line is that she’ll have a police guard twenty-four/seven.”
“And the truth will be?”
“I’ll be there as much as I can.” Which wouldn’t be as much as he’d like, because he still had to get out there and continue the hunt for the Cage Killer. “And Samson will be your houseguest until this is over.”
Samson was another member of the brotherhood. In his human guise, he ran a private security firm. Madden had already called him and Samson had agreed to rearrange his other commitments so his employees took them on. Samson himself would take over responsibility for guarding Maria.
“That’s good enough for me.” Lowell spoke without hesitation. It was always the case. The bond within the brotherhood was indestructible. Each member had the others’ backs without hesitation. Lowell would trust another member of the team to make sure his family was safe. There was no question about it.
With Samson and Lowell in the house, Maria would be
guarded by two members of the brotherhood. Madden would be there when he could. Odessa, Lowell’s wife was a Siberian werewolf and Valetta, Samson’s wife, who was unlikely to leave his side, was also a werewolf. In addition to the police presence Madden would be putting in place, the Cage Killer would meet some powerful opposition if he tried to get near her. Madden almost hoped he would try. Almost. He couldn’t bear the thought of Maria being placed in any further danger.
“While I’m making arrangements to move Maria from the hospital here in Anchorage up to Fairbanks, can you check something out for me?” Madden asked. In his day job, Lowell was a leading environmentalist, but his hobby was werewolf history. The other members of the brotherhood joked that there was nothing he didn’t know about werewolf folklore and tradition. Lowell, proud of his extensive knowledge, didn’t contradict them.
“I’ll do my best.” When Lowell said those words, he meant it. Madden knew he would pore over his ancient books long into the night, much to the amused frustration of his beautiful wife.
“There is a possibility that Maria is an Arctic werewolf, but she doesn’t know she is. I want to know if that’s possible, and if it’s ever happened before.”
Lowell was silent for a moment. “It sounds unusual.” His voice was skeptical.
“Sebastian has stolen her DNA tests from the hospital laboratory. I’ll know more after I’ve had them analyzed.”
“Ah, the ever resourceful Sebastian. I sometimes think he should have chosen a career on the other side of the law, but I’m glad he’s on our team.” Lowell laughed. “What does Maria herself think?”
“She’s confused. This is the first she’s heard of the possibility. On top of the fact that she’s just escaped from the clutches of a serial killer, it’s come as a shock.” Madden pictured Maria’s face again when he first spoke of Arctic werewolves. In spite of the bruising, she was stunning to look at, her unusual Arctic coloring and Nordic features giving her a haunting, ethereal beauty that would make her stand out in any crowd.