by Desconhecido
“Ah, so you would have changed back to your human form by then, if she’d come out later. By the way, you could have brought her home—we don’t share every woman.” He sank lower in his chair and looked at Max accusingly. Max sighed, seeing his angry, hurt expression. “If you’d told us you believed she was your mate, we would have left her to you, you know that,” Jake said.
Max frowned. “I know, and I planned on bringing her home, but time was not on my side this evening.”
He knew he was lucky to have his brothers in his life. At the young age of three, they’d been found wandering in the forest north of London, and were adopted by a farmer and his wife who already had several children. Peter and Nora Cullum had loved them as their own, even when the brothers had reached puberty and had changed from human to wolf form in front of their eyes.
When the change had first come upon them, Peter and the family hadn’t been frightened, but curious, and needed to know more about their unusual sons. So, while at the marketplace where the sold their crops, they asked questions until they found someone who knew of a shape-shifter family who might help them.
David Chamberlain, a physician and Lupine wolf pack leader in London, examined the boys and had proclaimed them as decidedly were-shifters, and cursed with traits he’d never seen before—the ability to shift into werewolf form each and every evening, and not just with a full moon. Ironically, the boys changed with the rising of the moon some time before midnight, not always simultaneously, and not always did they stay in their wolves’ form for the same amount of time. With each evening’s change, Chamberlain also knew the boys, as they grew into adulthood, would experience the beastly painful desire to mate. Particularly painful would be the evening once a month, of a full moon. Chamberlain had explained to the Cullum’s how, as the boys aged, the pain would increase—and the only thing that would ease the pain would be finding a mate.
Max and his brothers had been dealing with this pain for years. Philosophically, Max thought, it was only pain, not death—thought it felt like it at times. Soon they would all find their mates and find the relief they needed.
The Cullen family returned to their farm, happy now to at least know the reason for why their sons changed each evening into werewolves, scampering off into the woods during the evening hours, hunting and rutting. The change occurred as the moon rose in the sky, but by midnight they changed back to human form. Their change was short-lived, which was a good thing to the Cullens’ mind.
Cynical laughter exploded from Max then. “Isn’t it strange that none of us has found our mates yet, until now? From all the talk at the Weres’ Den, it happened to the others much earlier.” He sank into a chair beside Jake and joined him in gazing into the fire. “You know, of course, the constable will be here soon for me, don’t you?”
Jake shrugged. “Likely just to ask you a multitude of questions about the murdered woman. By the way, did you know her?”
“No.”
“Any scent from the murderer?”
Max thought a moment before replying. “Yes, as a matter of fact.”
Jake narrowed his eyes on his brother. “Then who is it, damn it. You must tell the police, or they’ll be after you.”
“I’ll get my name cleared.” Max stated then asked his brother, “Who do you think?”
“Not human or were, I believe. And, from the discomfiting look on your face, I’d say vampire or, possibly wizard.”
“You know, of course, our loyal friends at the Were’s Den all know what happened, and are referring to you as Jack the Ripper, don’t you? The woman told the police she saw you in the alley the moment she came out the door, in the near proximity of the woman. When the constables asked her if she saw you commit the murder, she told them she hadn’t, but that since you were the only one in the alley, you must be the killer. She added that you likely were trying to conceal the evidence by pressing your unwanted attentions on her, including kissing her.”
“Yes, I’d heard the reference upon my arrival at the Den after leaving Carrie this evening. My God, the place turned quiet as a tomb when I entered. It’s ridiculous and uncalled for. I am, after all, innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. Besides, we don’t use knives as weapons.” His grin deepened to show sparkling white teeth with long incisors. “You know that with these we’ve no need.”
“True. Well, it seems you have nothing to worry about then,” Jake said, “since your life’s mate saw you. She will give you her complete loyalty and trust once she learns this.”
“Yes, well, now I need to convince her of that fact,” he said dryly. “When I told her I meant to propose, she seemed doubtful, unbelieving. It was unfortunate that she saw me in wolf form first.”
“Damn,” Jake muttered as he slumped even lower in his seat.
Max sighed. “And then, right before her eyes, I changed, as usual just before the stroke of midnight. I tried hiding in the shadows but she saw me, yet I managed to convince her, rather well, that I am a mere man, and not an animal.
Jake grinned. “Now how did you manage to do that? Or, do I even want to know?
“I kissed her. More than once.” Looking directly at his brother, he added, “She’s mine, Jake, and I am going to meet her mother on the morrow. And,” he added, his voice low and harsh, “This woman I won’t be sharing with you and Simon.”
“Not if she’s your life mate,” Jake snapped. “As for meeting her family, well, that’s only if she doesn’t have second thoughts about you. What she reported to the constables doesn’t bode well for you.”
At a knock on the door, the brothers exchanged looks. Rising from his chair, Jake said, “I’ll let them in.”
* * * *
The constables, dressed in identical dark blue uniforms with gold epaulettes and rounded crown hats walked down the stairs, shaking their heads. The man were older, close to leaving their jobs for retirement.
McTavish was as Scottish as can be, with a brawny built, blessed with firey red hair, bushy beard and eyebrows and bright blue eyes. James Henry was tall and slim with thinning brown hair, but blessed with a razor sharp mind.
The constables had ferreted out many a criminal, and would, eventually, solve the murder of the poor woman found behind The King’s Tavern.
“Well, now,” said Constable Frank McTavish as he strode from Darkwirth Castle and mounted his horse. “That was a waste of our fine time.”
Constable James Henry shrugged. “How can we dispute the fact the two brothers were together the entire night, at the Weres’ Den, not the King’s Tavern?”
“Because Carrie Sweeney doesn’t lie,” Frank spat. “I’ve known the girl for years, and she’s as honest as the day is twenty-four blinking hours long.”
“And who would the law believe? A tavern girl or the Duke of Freemont’s grandson?”
“Point taken,” Frank said, “But, by God, I hate it when you’re rational.”
* * * *
Inside Castle Darkwirth, Max watched them ride away and sighed. “God, I hate making a liar out of Carrie, but what could I do? I’ll make it up to her. Thanks for being my alibi, by the way.”
“Yes, you did say she’s your mate and that you will marry her,” Jake said. “Hmm, it might have helped if you’d told McTavish and Henry that you plan on marrying Carrie. Now I’m certain the poor girl will be put under inquisition by them. I got the distinct feeling they didn’t believe you hadn’t a part in the murder, since you happened to be there when Carrie left the tavern.”
Max nodded. “Rest assured, the constables will leave me on their list as a suspect, but the two have an excellent record in finding true criminals. Soon they’ll find the murderer, and my name and Carrie’s will be cleared. But count on this, brother, Carrie and I will marry sooner than later.”
“I imagine, though, this changes you meeting her family on the morrow.”
“It does.” He shrugged. “There’s nothing to do but capture her, I suppose. And bring her back here.”
“What!” Jake exploded, splattering fine sherry all over the front of his impeccable pale gray frock coat. “Damn,” he said, looking down at his coat. “This is my favorite jacket.”
Max stifled his laughter. “I’ll buy you another.”
Jake hauled himself to his feet. “Damned right you will. Besides, I believe I’m due a new coat, anyway.”
“You know, you put Beau Brummel to shame, brother.”
Jake’s smile wreathed his face. “Why, thank you, Max. That’s a wonderfully generous compliment from you. Explain to me how you plan on enticing Miss Sweeney to our home.”
“Hadn’t thought of a plan yet. But I think the simplest thing is for me to wait until she leaves the tavern at the end of the night and snatch her. Where’s Simon? You know how fleet of foot he is. I think I’ll need his assistance.”
“And you’ll have it.”
Max looked up and saw Simon sauntering into the library.
“It’s not every day a man finds his life mate,” Simon said with a toothy smile. “Congratulations.” Simon took a seat on the divan across from his brothers.
Max scowled. “Just so long as you remember she’s my life mate.”
Simon sighed. “I’m crushed. You know I’d never steal a woman…from either of you.”
“Right,” Max and Jake said simultaneously.
While Max and Jacob were charming, handsome men, rarely without feminine companionship, Simon had the fairer sex breathing down his neck, nearly day and night. There was something about his brother that seemed to attract them all, with little effort on his part. For one thing, he was a charming bastard with a perpetual glint of lust in his eyes, and when he gazed upon a woman, she melted before him. He was also the strongest, and the fastest—a man with enviable control over his large frame, and unending charm.
* * * *
Max sat on his haunches at Simon’s feet, his enormous, muscular, furry body squashed into their coach, his tongue hanging out, looking up expectantly at Simon.
Simon sighed and patted his brother’s blonde, shaggy head. “Thank God we don’t all change at the same time. I figure by the time you’re changing back to man, I’ll be in my wolf form. By then, I’ll have snatched Miss Sweeney before she reaches her home, then you can battle her into submission on the ride to the castle while I hunt to my canine’s delight. He arched one eyebrow. “Sounds reasonable, doesn’t it?”
He nearly laughed outright when he saw Max duck his big head down, then slump to the floor and close his eyes.
Wouldn’t you know it but the King’s Tavern on the east end of London was late in closing this evening, and Miss Sweeney had yet to leave the place, Simon thought, exasperated. Once she did, he’d have his driver follow her awhile. Max had learned she lived in the next neighborhood and, this late at night, rarely could a soul be found ambling the streets. Frankly, he was amazed Carrie Sweeney had the bravery to do such a foolish thing but she did; each and every evening she walked home alone, over a mile.
Frowning, he realized it was not only foolish, but dangerous. It was late September, and two women had been found murdered in the last few weeks, strangled, and then their throats cut. No, it was very unwise for Miss Sweeney to walk home.
Simon saw the front door open. Finally! The astonishingly pretty woman strode outside, pulled her wool cloak closed and started walking briskly down the street. Being some distance away, Simon couldn’t see her face clearly, but her figure was undeniably curvy and he understood now why Max wanted her. But then, she could be the ugliest woman ever born and if she was his mate—then there was no denying it. When a shifter found his mate, he found her, no matter how she looked, or what sort of person she was.
Shivering in his seat, Simon decided he should have worn his coat, but too late now. He’d forgotten how the temperatures plummeted after nightfall in September.
Max stood up and stared out the window, tail wagging.
“Sit down, you brute. You can’t do a damned thing until you’ve changed back. No need to worry now, I’ll fetch your mate for you.”
Simon chuckled at the look on Max’s wolf face. It appeared he’d understood everything he said, which was unlikely, of course, still, the three of them always recognized each other when they were in wolf form, though they couldn’t communicate through speech, just through their eyes and scents.
Simon and Max stared out the same window, following several yards behind Carrie as she walked down the walkway. She turned a corner and Simon knocked on the top of the coach, his signal for his driver to pause a bit. Couldn’t chance her thinking she was being followed.
Max’s sudden, painful howl pierced the quiet of the night and Simon’s head snapped around to see his brother’s furry body contorting, growing, his head thrown back in misery as he changed to human form.
Simon sank back in his seat with a scowl. “I was supposed to fetch her, not you. You changed back sooner than I’ve ever seen you,” he complained.
Max, naked as the day he was born, knees to his chest where he sat on the seat, gaining his breath, glared at his brother a moment before coming to his feet. He yanked up the seat, and pulled out a white, long sleeved shirt and dark trousers, boots and socks and coat. Then he yanked a towel out and dried his sweat-slicked torso and face. Dropping the towel, he snapped, “Hell, this is my mate, I’m fetching, not yours. It’s damned lucky I have some control over how and when I change, even if it is every damned night.”
“Then why in the hell did you require my assistance?”
“In case, for some odd reason, I didn’t change. Thanks for coming along, though. You can change anytime you like now.” He gave his brother a wolfish grin. “Bet you can’t wait to get out on a hunt, can you?”
Simon’s matching grin confirmed his opinion and he reached up and knocked on the coach roof once more. The coach stopped and Simon bounded outside and tipped his hat. “Later, brother. Good luck.”
Max watched Simon stride jauntily away, toward a tree-filled park on the north end of town. “Drive on, Fergusson,” Max said, knowing once Simon found cover, he’d shift.
The coach started moving and Max kept his eyes focused on Carrie not too far ahead of them. The woman had no sense, traveling home alone, on foot, each night. She needed a man’s watching, a man’s care—his care. And she’d have it, whether she wanted it or not.
* * * *
Carrie shivered in her coat, a foreboding feeling encompassing her. She’d walked home for the past year by herself, without ever having felt this insecure about doing so, but she did now. If she didn’t know better, she’d believe she was being followed. But each time she turned to look over her shoulder she saw no one. A few coaches parked alongside of the road, but that’s all. No people, which was normal for this time of night. It was after one in the morning and all was quiet as it should be, still she couldn’t shake the dreaded feeling. Now she wished she’d allowed one of her brothers to fetch her. When she’d first begun working at the tavern, one of them would escort her, but they were always so tired at the end of their work day on the farm. Then they’d have to rise early the next day, so she didn’t feel it fair to have them continue taking her to and fro. Besides, she’d grown up in this part of London and was comfortable on her own—until now.
Her thoughts turned then to the man she’d met a few days ago—Max Dalton. It was too bad he was likely a cold-blooded murderer for she’d felt things while in his arms—things she had never felt before with a man; longing, rapture, an undeniable urge to stay within his arms forever. She wondered if the constables had caught him yet for having killed the woman in the alley behind the tavern. Never would she forget the sight of the poor woman who lay in a pool of her own blood.
She reached the end of the boardwalk and the walk home along the country road would only take her another ten minutes. Tonight, the darkness was eerie and made her feel uneasy. She’d walked just a few yards when she heard the sound of horse’s hooves, then a carriage’s wheels. St
unned, she turned to see a carriage bearing down on her, the horse being whipped into a full gallop.
She started running and as the carriage drew closer, she went off the road and into the woods alongside it. Gasping for breath, she ran, scattering rocks and dust along the way with each running step she took. Her side ached and she held it with her hand, breathing in and out raggedly through her mouth to try and catch her breath.
Her legs ached with the stress and strain of running, wearing full skirts and soft-soled shoes. Her feet felt every rock beneath them. She didn’t dare go deeper into the woods, for there was no doubt in her mind that danger lurked there as well. Who was this person chasing her down? She had no enemies that she could think of. But then, this was London, and there were enough ruffians and murderers who wouldn’t think a moment about taking what he wanted from a maid like her. Why hadn’t she been more careful, or asked one of her brothers to escort her home?
The carriage was right alongside her now and she looked up, horrified to see a man hurtling himself out of the vehicle’s open door, toward her. She shoved her spectacles higher on the bridge of her nose, then slowed down when she saw, with utter amazement, that the man charging after her landed on his feet and was gaining on her. The carriage, with its driver, tore away down the road.
Chapter Three
Her attacker caught her and she cursed herself for having worn a scarf around her neck for the man latched onto one of the ends that streamed behind her.
Her heart pounded with fright and dread as he pulled her back and she felt herself falling. She landed against him, hard, causing them both to fall backwards. Immediately, she began to sit up when she felt him beneath her, then she stopped abruptly when he laughed.
She knew that laugh and with a scowl, she scrambled to her feet and glared down at Max, the man she’d met a few short days ago.
“My God, man, you could have killed us both!” she gasped furiously.