The Wolf Prince

by Karen Kelley

  “I was running through the woods.”

  “I was there.”

  “What’s a Symtarian?”

  She felt him shake his head.

  “I don’t know,” he finally told her. “I don’t know. I think it might be who we are.”

  “Animals? Wolves?” She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “Could we be werewolves?” Oh, God, she didn’t want to be some kind of monster that went around scaring little children.

  “I don’t know what you speak of,” he said.

  “Werewolves are creatures that rip off the heads of humans.”

  “No, I don’t think we’re monsters.”

  “Just Symtarians.”

  “We may be.”

  “I’ve never heard of a place called Symtaria.”

  “Maybe it was just a dream.”

  She leaned back and looked at him. “Do you really think so?” She studied his face. He hesitated. “The truth.”

  “I don’t think we’re like everyone else. Why would we share the same dreams?”

  She leaned back against his chest. “You’re right. I’ve never heard of that until now. Maybe we’re both crazy and we’re in denial.”

  “I’m glad that we’re in this together.”

  “Me, too.”

  He laid her back against the pillow. A breeze drifted in through the doors he’d left open. She was glad he didn’t leave, but scooted in next to her.

  “How did you get into my room?” she asked.

  “Climbed.”

  “That’s dangerous. Please don’t do it again. I’d hate to wake some morning and find your battered corpse lying on the ground below my balcony.”

  His chest rumbled again. “Sleep,” he told her. “I’ll stay and chase the bad dreams away.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes, I will always be here for you.”

  Darcy had a feeling he told the truth. It didn’t seem to matter that he’d gone into protective mode again. Just as long as he didn’t go overboard. She yawned and snuggled against his bare skin.

  Darcy yawned and stretched as she came awake. The night came rushing back. Her gaze flew to the French doors leading out to the balcony. They were closed. Had she dreamed Surlock’s coming to her last night? That he had somehow shared her dream?

  She flung away the cover and swung her feet off the bed, padding barefoot to the doors. She hesitated before opening them, then stepped onto the stone balcony. She breathed easier when she didn’t see Surlock’s lifeless body lying all bruised and bloody on the ground.

  Had any of it really happened? She shook her head and went back inside. When she went downstairs, Surlock was laughing with Ms. Abernathy as they stood in the hallway.

  Laughing?

  “Good morning,” she said.

  Ms. Abernathy smiled. “Good morning, child. Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes,” Darcy hesitantly told her.

  “Good, good. I’ve got a fine breakfast. Hurry in before it gets cold. French toast this morning. Your favorite.”

  “Thanks.” Darcy looked at Surlock and wondered what exactly he’d been up to.

  “No trouble at all,” Ms. Abernathy said as she hurried back to the kitchen.

  “You’ve been busy this morning,” Darcy said. “What exactly has been going on?” She led the way to the dining room, needing a lot of coffee.

  “Nothing.”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Nothing. Hmm, why do I doubt that nothing has been going on while I was asleep?”

  “Nothing much,” he expanded.

  “And what has put the housekeeper in such a good mood?” She took a plate off the stack and began to get her food. “She was practically glowing.”

  He shrugged. “I played her a song.”

  “A song?”

  “She hummed it and I picked up the tune. It made her happy.”

  She took her food and coffee to the table and sat down. He joined her. Surlock acted as if nothing had happened last night. Maybe it hadn’t. It could all have been a dream. She picked up her cup and took a drink.

  “So, you have no idea who or what a Symtarian might be?” he suddenly asked out of the blue.

  She jumped, then carefully set her cup back on the saucer. “I thought I’d dreamed last night. It happened then? I mean, both of us having the same dream? That we were wolves running in a pack. That I heard one of the wolves thoughts telling me I was Symtarian?”

  He picked up a slice of bacon and bit into it, slowly chewing. “Yes, it all happened.”

  She moved the food around on her plate with her fork, but didn’t eat any of it. “You still don’t think we might both be crazy? I mean really—wolves?”

  He shook his head, then smiled. A soft, gentle smile that wrapped around her and held her close. “No, I don’t think we’re both crazy, but I certainly think we’re different.”

  Different? That was an understatement. She had no idea what her background was. Maybe her parents had been certifiable and she was following in their footsteps. None of it made sense. Surlock hadn’t been sent here to protect her. Unless it was to protect her from losing her mind, and she wasn’t so sure anyone could help her with that.

  “Eat, we have a lot to do today.” He shoved part of the French toast into his mouth, then closed his eyes as if he’d died and gone to heaven.

  There was a little bit of syrup at the corner of his mouth. She raised her hand, but his tongue came out of his mouth and licked it away. God, how could he make the act of licking away a little drop of syrup look so damn sensual?

  She swallowed hard, then cut into her French toast. “What exactly are we going to be doing?”

  He opened his eyes and looked at her as if she should already know the answer. “We have to find Symtaria. If we can find this place, we’ll have our answers.”

  She should’ve figured that one out. She was the P.I., after all. And she would’ve, too. He’d just beat her to the punch. She would be the one who actually found it, though. How hard could it be to locate a place called Symtaria?

  CHAPTER 11

  Finding Symtaria was proving harder than Darcy could have imagined. “I’ve Googled it and there is no Symtaria.” She spun her computer chair until she faced Surlock. “Nothing, nada, zip. This proves it. We’re both crazy.”

  “No, we’re not crazy,” Surlock told her.

  “Okay, then neither one of us exists.”

  He reached over and pinched her.

  She frowned and rubbed her arm. “Ow, why did you do that? It hurt.”

  “So you did feel it,” he said.

  Okay, Surlock won hands down. He was crazier than she. “Of course I felt it.”

  “Then you exist.” He suddenly grinned.

  For a moment, she forgot that he’d pinched her and just lost herself in his smile, the way the gold flecks twinkled in his eyes—the way his mouth turned up on one side. It was all she could do to draw her attention away from him and back to the screen.

  “So maybe we do exist, but Symtaria doesn’t. I can’t fathom a whole race of people who bear the same birthmark, either, if you want to know the truth.”

  “Why not? There are people on earth who share the same characteristics.”

  He was right again. It still didn’t change the fact that this place she was searching for was nowhere to be found. Life was getting too complicated. She longed for simpler times when she only thought she’d make a good P.I. A time when the dream was still alive within her. Now she wondered if she had been totally off the mark. She hadn’t found anything of significance so far.

  “Maybe we only thought we heard the name Symtaria,” he said. “It was a dream. If we’re off on the spelling, wouldn’t that make a difference?”

  She brightened. “You’re right. It would.” Just as quickly as her heart began to pound with excitement, it slowed to a slog. Again, Surlock had found the problem, not her. He made a better P.I. Her confidence slipped another notch.

  Her cel
l phone rang. She slipped it from her pocket and looked at the caller. Eddie. Maybe now they would discover Surlock’s identity.

  “Hi, Eddie. What did you find out?”

  “Hi, Darcy. Well, as far as I can tell, the guy has a clean record.”

  Adrenaline rushed through her. Great, she wasn’t harboring a criminal. Not that she’d really thought Surlock was a serial killer or anything.

  “Did you find out who he is?” she asked.

  “Not exactly.”

  Her eyebrows drew together. “What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?”

  “It means he’s clean. Although, his prints were kind of strange.”

  “Strange? As in?”

  “Just what I said, they’re different. Not intentionally so. Some criminals will burn the pads of their fingers so you can’t run their prints.” He chuckled. “That usually sends up a red flag. No, Surlock’s are just… different. Like he was born that way. We still don’t have him in the database. Sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

  “Well, at least we know he’s not a criminal.”

  “True. If you find out who he is, let me know. Now I’m curious. Has he remembered anything at all?”

  “Little things. I don’t suppose you’ve ever heard of a place called Symtaria.”

  “Is that in Africa?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “If I can be any more help, just let me know.”

  “Will do.”

  She slipped her cell back inside her pocket and looked at Surlock. “At least you’re not wanted by the law.”

  Her cell rang again. She brought it out and glanced at the caller I.D. Peter. Ugh! Knowing him, he would keep calling until she answered.

  “It’s Peter,” she said.

  Surlock didn’t say anything. His expression was as bland as low-calorie ice cream.

  So much drama. “I’ve known him all my life. Yes, he can be an ass, but sometimes he was the only friend I had.”

  He continued to stare.

  “Why are men so damn stubborn?” She answered the persistent ringing. “Yes, Peter, what do you want?”

  “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to marry me. You’re my best friend, Dar. I would never do anything to jeopardize that. Say you forgive me.”

  “I forgive you.”

  “And Surlock, will he forgive me, too?”

  She glanced at Surlock. His face was still devoid of all expression. Well, except for the barely discernible twitch in his jaw. “That might take a little more time.”

  “I was afraid of that. He’s quite taken with you.”

  “He’ll come around.” She was probably lying through her teeth.

  “I hope so. I’m having a party at my house this weekend. Say you’ll come. Please, please, please. It’s a masked costume ball. It will be great fun, and you know I give the very best parties.”

  She hesitated.

  “I couldn’t bear it if you didn’t.”

  He was whining again. “Okay, okay, we’ll be there. Now, I really do have to go.”

  “‘Bye, Dar.”

  “‘Bye, Peter.”

  She slipped the phone inside her pocket, and went back to the computer without saying a word.

  “Where will we be?” he asked.

  “What do you mean?” she stalled.

  “You said we’d be somewhere. Where?”

  “Peter is having a party.”

  “We’re not going.”

  She slowly turned in her chair. “I beg your pardon?” She crossed her arms in front of her.

  “Peter is in love with you. He might be the person I need to protect you from.”

  “Peter? That’s highly unlikely. Besides, your protecting me has to be connected to the James Bond movie we watched. Believe me, I don’t need protecting. And, I am going to the party. You’re invited if you want to come along, but it makes no difference to me.”

  He pulled her chair closer to his, and cupped the back of her neck. His lips brushed across hers, sending flames shooting down to her lower regions. She lost herself in the kiss, the way his tongue stroked hers, the way his fingers caressed her nape.

  When the kiss ended, it took her a few seconds to regain her senses, and then a frown turned down the corners of her mouth.

  “It won’t work,” she told him.

  “What?” he asked, all innocent.

  “Kissing me until I forget who I am.”

  “Did I do that?” His voice turned silky, seductive. “Do I make you forget who you are?”

  She swallowed hard, then turned away. “You know damn well you do.”

  “Does this party mean that much to you?” he finally asked.

  “No,” she told him. “But it’s Peter’s way of saying he’s sorry.” She hesitated, then continued. “Peter is Peter. He’ll never really change. He’s spoiled because his parents have given him everything he could ever need or want. The only thing they haven’t given him is responsibility … and their trust. His place in the company is just a title. He has no real authority. The only major decision he’s been allowed to make is where he wanted to place his furniture in an office he rarely uses.” She wanted Surlock to understand that Peter wasn’t a threat. That he was just Peter, her friend.

  “Whenever I’ve needed him, Peter has always dropped everything to be there for me. It’s not because he loves me or anything. He just doesn’t have anyone else that he’s close to. I understand who he is, and I accept him and all his flaws.”

  He studied her for a moment. “We’ll go to his party.”

  Darcy grinned, liking the man even more. She got up out of her chair and went to his, parking herself on his lap. “You’re a pretty great guy, did you know that?”

  He seemed to think over her words. “Yes,” he said, nodding. “I had started to suspect as much.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Lord, save me from men and their egos.” But when he kissed her, she knew there was one thing she didn’t want to be saved from.

  Annette fastened the cape over Darcy. “Your shop is really cute,” Darcy said. It was done in black with pink polka dots. The floor was black and white checks. There were wigs on white Styrofoam heads sitting on shelves.

  Annette beamed with pride. “I was going for a sixties look.”

  “I think you did a fantastic job.”

  “Thanks.” Annette ran a brush through her hair. “What do you want me to do today?”

  “What do you think? Just a little off the ends?” Darcy wasn’t too sure about having Annette cut and style her hair, but she’d made a promise, and she never went back on one.

  “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Annette told her.

  “What do you mean not want to? Of course, I do.”

  Annette met her gaze in the mirror. “I know you’re only doing this because you’re a really nice person, but I’m a damn good hairdresser. I might not be very polished socially, but I come from good stock.” Her smile was crooked. “At least that’s what my daddy always tells me. He only has a sixth grade education, but he’s one of the smartest men I know.”

  “Then let’s throw in a shampoo, too.”

  “You’ve got it.”

  They talked about the weather being unusually nice, and agreed that fall was in the air. They talked about the new restaurant opening next week.

  Darcy knew there was something else Annette wanted to know, but Darcy didn’t pressure her, knowing she would ask when she felt comfortable. Besides, Darcy was almost positive it had to do with a certain man.

  “How’s Peter?” Annette blushed, finally getting to what she most wanted to ask about. “Not that I care about him or anything. It’s just that I knew Surlock looked fit to be tied when Peter announced you two were getting married.”

  Annette had actually seen that in Surlock’s expression? Amazing. He’d seemed carved out of stone to Darcy.

  “Peter’s having a party this Saturday so I’d say he’s recovered from my rejection.”
/>
  “A party?”

  Darcy had a sudden lightbulb moment. “Why don’t you come? I bet Peter would like that. He throws the best parties and this one is masked, so it should be a lot of fun.”

  Annette’s eyes sparkled for a brief moment, but just as quickly, the glitter faded, and she shook her head. “It was different when it was just a double date. Besides, Peter only took me out to get to you. It’s you he loves. He made that very clear the other night.”

  “No, he only thinks he’s in love with me. I’m familiar. Like an old shoe. Now that Surlock is in the picture, Peter is like a puppy who doesn’t want to give up his favorite toy.”

  Hope flared in her eyes. “You think so?”

  “I know so.” Darcy narrowed her eyes on Annette. “How did you two meet?”

  She shrugged. “He came in here one day for a trim.”

  “Peter?”

  Annette nodded.

  “Wow.”

  “Wow what?”

  “Peter is very particular about who cuts his hair. Hmm, that’s very interesting. Let me get this straight. He came in here, and you cut his hair?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then he asked you out.”

  She nodded. “That’s pretty much it. No biggie.”

  Darcy shook her head. “Nope, that’s a very big deal.”

  “Do you think so?” Annette sighed, a dreamy look on her face. “I’ve seen him around town, you know, and every once in a while I’d feel him watching me. I think he’s so handsome.”

  “I bet Peter is sweet on you, too, but he’s not ready to admit it. Now you have to come to the party.”

  Annette paled. “Oh, I couldn’t mix with all the upper crust. And I still don’t believe Peter really likes me.”

  “Phooey. It doesn’t matter where you come from or where any of us is positioned in life. We all have problems of our own. Including Peter.”

  “Yeah, but having money makes the solving a whole lot easier,” Annette mumbled.

  Darcy chuckled. “You’re probably right about that. But look around. You have your own business. From the number of people I’ve seen walking through that front door just since I arrived, I’d say you’re doing pretty darn well.”

  Annette ducked her head, but Darcy could see her proud smile.

  “I’m not doing too badly. Business has been pretty good.”