by Eileen Wilks
Rule's eyebrows flew up. His voice turned gentle. "Cynna, Cullen isn't going to marry you. I don't know if he's hinted or implied such a thing, but I hope—"
"Actually, he's already asked, and now he's just assuming. He's like that—if you don't beat him back with a club, he figures that means he'll get what he wants. But before I make it official, I need to know for sure Nokolai wouldn't kick him out or anything." She made a face. "He wouldn't lie to me outright, but this might be a subject he's willing to bend the truth on."
The shock on Rule's face was everything she'd feared. So why did it make her giggle?
"Cullen?" he said at last, incredulous.
"It's a kick, isn't it? And it isn't just about the baby." She still marveled over that.
"No, it wouldn't be." He waved that aside as obvious. His face was very serious. "Cynna, you understand that this not up to me."
She nodded. "Your father, mostly, right? And the Rhej. I, uh, I've talked to her."
She'd surprised him again, but this time he smiled slightly. "You were able to persuade her to come to a phone?"
"Yeah. She said… well, she had a lot to say."
Rule's smile deepened. "You agreed to become her apprentice."
"Sort of. On a trial basis," Cynna added quickly. She still couldn't believe she was the right one for the job, and she figured the Rhej would see that soon enough. But… "Everyone keeps telling me it's not a religious vow or anything, but… well, according to the Rhej, the Lady does sometimes intervene in ways that look pretty miraculous. She's got that kind of power, only she's bound by lots of rules about what she's allowed to do, and she can't act unless she's asked, she might not do it anyway, and mostly the only ones she can hear asking are the Rhejes. Or…"
"Or someone she's chosen to become a Rhej."
"Yeah." Cynna sighed. When Cullen died, Cynna had called on the Lady. A second later, he'd drawn a breath. Maybe that was coincidence. Maybe it was a debt. "Anyway, the Rhej said that as far as she's concerned, Cullen is Nokolai and will stay that way."
"That makes a difference. Let me think a moment." Rule drummed his fingers on the table once, a habit of Lily's he'd picked up. "He won't lost Nokolai," he said at last. "My father is not easy to predict, but he's extremely unlikely to go against the Rhej on such matter. But it will be difficult. Some both within and outside the clan, will shun Cullen. This is a vital moral issue for us, Cynna."
"I know." She said that with sympathy, because this put Rule in a difficult position. But she'd marry Cullen anyway, and not because she had to have the ring. Because he did. He needed her to be family, to be his.
Well, okay, she admitted privately as Rule walked her to the door. She needed that, too.
As she told him goodbye, Cynna found something new to marvel over. For years, Rule Turner had been the standard against which all other men were measured. He'd played a part in saving her, whether he knew that or not. Until him, she'd had no idea how a good man treated a woman.
She'd been a bit in love with him long after he left. It had never really died, not for her.
"Have you told Lily?" Rule asked as they reached the door.
"Not yet. I thought you needed to hear first because it affects the clan, and I needed your answer." Oh, this was going to make trouble for him. "Rule." Impulsively she reached for his hand. "I am sorry about… well, the problems. I know this causes problems."
He nodded, but found a wry smile. "I'll cope. I'll even come to the wedding."
And that was a major concession. She beamed at him. "We'll probably hold it outdoors someplace. Not many inside spots big enough for a dragon."
Cynna all but danced down the sidewalk to where she'd parked her car.
Now when she looked at Rule, she might remember what he had been to her, but she didn't want him. Oh, she did in one sense—the my-body-likes-sex way any healthy woman feels around an attractive man. A little more alive, a little more female. But she didn't want him.
She wanted to hurry back to the brash and bold, arrogant and tender, often annoying man who loved her. And haul him off to bed, where she could propose to him properly.
* * *
Want to attend Cynna and Cullen's wedding? Visit www.EileenWilks.com. A link to a free short story about their wedding day is available on the NIGHT SEASON page.
Turn the page for a preview of the next Lupi novel and the return of Lily Yu and Rule Turner in
MORTAL SINS
by Eileen Wilks
Coming in 2009 from Berkley Sensation!
Southern air holds on to scent. Scent is vapor, after all, a chemical mist freed by heat to hang, trapped, in moist air. In his other form, Rule knew this.
In this form he knew only the richness. The world was more scent than sight as he raced through silver and shadow woods, through air heavy with moisture and fragrance. Layers and layers of green overlaid the complex stew of water from a nearby stream with its notes of kudzu, rock, and fish. Goldenrod jumbled with loosestrife, dogwood and buckeye, and the sugary scent of maple, punctuated here and there by the cooler tang of pine.
But it was the musk, blood, and fur scent of raccoon he chased.
The moon hung high overhead as he leaped a fallen log, muscles reaching in an exhilarating approximation of flight. His back feet skidded in mud when he landed. Ten feet away, his quarry shot up a tree.
He shook his head once, disappointed. Had he been truly hungry, raccoon would have served, but it was the chase he wanted. Damned raccoons preferred to climb instead of running. Good for their survival; bad for his pleasure tonight.
A deer, though… He decided to course, searching for that scent.
Coursing was as much excuse as action. He'd eaten well before Changing, so hunger was distant; the real delight was simply being in motion, four-footed, reading the world through his nose, ears, the pads of his feet.
The human part of him remained, a familiar slice of "I" that was not-wolf. He remembered all his two-legged thoughts and experiences; they simply ceased to matter as much. Not when the air slid through him like hot silk, laden with a thousand flavors. It was, perhaps, that part of him which felt a pang for the wonders of these Southern woods, remembering the hotter, drier land claimed by his clan in Southern California. His grandfather had made the decision to buy land there for Nokolai's Clanhome. In that place and time, the land had been cheap.
It had been a good decision. Nokolai had prospered. But most Nokolai wolves ran on rocks scattered over hard-baked ground, not on loam as rich as the summer air that streamed through him, nor through tree shadows surprised here and there by the tumble of a little stream.
Rule had run as wolf in other places, of course, but not in these woods. Not with Leidolf so near.
The spike of worry was real, but fleeting. Wolves understand fear. Worry is too mental, too predicated by the future, to hold their attention. The slice of him that remained man would have held on to that worry, gnawing it like an old bone that refused to crack. The wolf was more interested in the day-old spoor of an opossum.
Which was why he ran tonight: too many worries, too much gnawing at problems that refused to crack open and release their marrow. Lily said they hadn't come up with the right questions yet.
Rule paused, head lifted. Thought of her was sweet to man and wolf both. If only she could…
He twitched his ear as if a fly had bitten it. Foolishness.
Man and wolf agreed on that. Things were as they were, not as he might wish them to be.
An hour later he'd found no deer, but had enjoyed the distraction of many other scent trails—a pair of wild dogs, a rattler, all sorts of birds. But there was no one to share them with. He was wistful, wishing for a clanmate to romp with.
Wishing, though he tried not to, for Lily—who could never share this with him.
At the base of a low hill he found another scent. One that reminded him he had two clans now. The scent was old, but unmistakable. At some point in the last few months, a Leidol
f wolf had marked the spot with urine.
Inside Rule stirred something more visceral than recognition as the portion of mantle he now carried rose, knowing the scent. Welcoming it.
For a moment, Rule was confused. Always before that scent had meant enemy. But the message of the power curled within him was clear: this wolf was his.
The man understood this change had expected it, so the wolf decided to acknowledge it and move on. He wound up the little hill, anticipating grass. His nose told him there was a grassy place nearby, a spot where some change in soil had discouraged trees. He liked grass. Perhaps it would be tall and home to mice.
Hunger had grown closer as he coursed the night. Mice were small and tricky, but they crunched nicely.
A thought sifted through him, arising from both ways of being: a few months ago he wouldn't have noticed a trace as old as that left by the Leidolf wolf. Was it one of the mantles coiled in his belly that made it possible to sort that scent? Or both mantles?
Perhaps the night and the woods were magic because he carried more magic within him now.
He would think on that, he decided, in his other form, which was better suited to it. For now… at the crest of the hill he checked with the moon, aware of time passing and a woman who slept in a small town nearby. He would enjoy the grass awhile, perhaps catch some mice. Then he'd return to the place he'd left his clothing and the shape that fit those clothes.
The grass was indeed tall and the pungent smell of mice greeted him as he approached the tiny meadow. Rabbits, too, but rabbits never ventured out at night.
For the first time that night, a breeze stirred, whispering in the grass and carrying a host of smells. He froze, more in curiosity than alarm. Nose lifted, he tested the air.
Was that… corruption? Yes, the stench of rot was unmistakable, though very faint. It meant little. Animals died in the woods often enough. Besides, the smell came from where he thought the highway lay. Animals were hit by cars even more often than they died in the woods.
Still, he wondered idly if the mantles would make a difference. They slept now, unneeded and uncalled, but he could try. Why not?
With a wisp of attention, he woke the twin powers in his gut. He asked—not with words, nothing so indirect—about the wisp of scent the breeze had brought. It sharpened in his nostrils immediately.
His body went taut. Go. The breeze might die, or this new acuity fade. Go.
He launched himself into a run.
Wolves are largely indifferent to death, as long as it doesn't threaten them or theirs. The body he chased was certainly dead, so the wolf felt no urgency.
The man did. Rule ran for over a mile—not full-out, not over unfamiliar terrain with no immediate danger or prey to force him to top speed. But he was fast in this form, faster than a born-wolf.
By the time he slowed, he knew he'd been right about the highway. He heard cars cruising along, perhaps a half mile ahead of him. But what he sought lay within the woods. The rankness of rotting meat made his lip curl away from his teeth as he approached.
Surely even humans would smell this.
Some other scent hid beneath the putrefaction, one he didn't recognize. But it brought his hackles up and started a growl in his throat.
Wolves are not natural scavengers; only a very hungry one would consider eating anything this rotten. And Rule was too much a man even now to feel anything but a sad sort of horror at what lay between a pair of oaks.
Not all beasts are so picky, however. And he hadn't been the first to find them.
Praise For
BLOOD LINES
"Another winner from Eileen Wilks, Blood Lines will leave many aching for more long after the last sentence is read, and I have no doubt the next installment will be just as enjoyable!"
—Romance Reviews Today
"The world Ms. Wilks overlays against the one we know is an exciting one that becomes more fascinating as layers of it are revealed… Moreover, Ms. Wilks shows just enough sensuality to give us romance to go along with the fast-paced, tense action… Ms. Wilks is a true master of her craft."
—The Eternal Night
"Fast-paced and nail-biting reading… I really like this story line and the characters, so I highly recommend you add Blood Lines to your library."—Fresh Fiction
"The magic seems plausible, the demons real, and the return of enigmatic Cynna, along with the sorcerer, hook fans journeying the fantasy realm of Eileen Wilks."
—The Best Reviews
"Intriguing… Surprises abound in Blood Lines … A masterful pen and sharp wit hone this third book in the Moon Children series into a work of art. Enjoy!"
—A Romance Review
"If you enjoy beautifully written, character-rich paranormals set in a satisfyingly intricate and imaginative world, then add your name to Eileen Wilks' growing fan list and savor Blood Lines to the very last page."
—BookLoons
"Quite enjoyable, and sure to entertain… A fast-paced story with plenty of danger and intrigue."
—The Green Man Review
"Those in search of paranormal tales that are rich and multifaceted will get exactly what they're looking for in the brilliant Wilks's exceptional supernatural stories."
—Romantic Times
MORTAL DANGER
"Terrific… The cat-and-mouse story line is action-packed… A thrilling tale of combat on mystical realms."
—The Best Reviews
"Mortal Danger is as intense as it is sophisticated, a wonderful novel of strange magic, fantastic realms, and murderous vengeance that blend together to test the limits of fate-bound lovers. An intricately crafted, loving, lavish tale."
—Lynn Viehl, USA Today bestselling author of the Darkyn series
"A dramatically told story… It is this reviewer's hope that this series will have many more stories to come."
—Romance Junkies
"I've been anticipating this book ever since I read Tempting Danger, and I was certainly not disappointed. Mortal Danger grabs you on the first page and never lets go. Strong characters, believable world-building, and terrific storytelling make this a mustread for anyone who enjoys werewolves with their romance. I really, really loved this book."
—Patricia Briggs, USA Today bestselling author of Moon Called
"[A] complex, intriguing, paranormal world… Fans of the paranormal genre will love this one!"
—Love Romances
"A thoroughly enjoyable read. I'll be looking out both for the previous volume and the next book in what promises to be a series well worth following."
—Emerald City Fantasy and Science Fiction
"Gripping paranormal romance."
—Fresh Fiction
TEMPTING DANGER
"A story whose characters I remember long after the last page is turned."
—Kay Hooper, New York Times bestselling author of Blood Dreams
"An exciting, fascinating paranormal suspense that will have you on the edge of your seat. With a mesmerizing tale of an imaginative world and characters that will keep you spellbound as you read each page, Ms. Wilks proves once again what a wonderful writer she is with one great imagination for her characters and the world they live in."
—The Romance Readers Connection
"Fantastic… Lily and Rule are a fabulous pairing… Ms. Wilks takes a chance and [her] readers are the winners."
—The Best Reviews
"Wilks's heroine is so top-notch."
—The Romance Reader
PRAISE FOR THE PREVIOUS NOVELS OF
EILEEN WILKS
"Fun [and] very entertaining!"
—The Romance Reader
"Should appeal to fans of Nora Roberts."
—Booklist
"Fast-paced."
—All About Romance
* * *
Books by Eileen Wilks
TEMPTING DANGER
MORTAL DANGER
BLOOD LINES
NIGHT SEASON
&n
bsp; Anthologies
CHARMED
(with Jayne Ann Krentz writing as Jayne Castle, Julie Beard, and Lori Foster)
LOVER BEWARE (with Christine Feehan, Katherine Sutcliffe, and Fiona Brand)
CRAVINGS
(with Laurell K. Hamilton, MaryJanice Davidson, and Rebecca York)
ON THE PROWL (with Patricia Briggs, Karen Chance, and Sunny)