Gideon trailed behind her, wondering if the owners would be as trusting if they knew a werewolf pack made its home a few miles away.
The room, decorated with antique oak furniture, was large and airy. A king-sized bed occupied a place between two windows that offered views of the distant mountains. Crisp white lace curtains hung at the windows, a wedding ring quilt covered the bed. A Bible and a Wyoming guidebook sat side by side on the four-drawer dresser.
“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Kay remarked.
Nodding, Gideon dropped their suitcases on the floor. “Are you tired?”
“No, why?”
“Well, we’ve got a few hours until dawn. I thought maybe we’d go for a walk.”
“I know just the place,” Kay said. “Just give me a minute to change my clothes and my shoes.”
Gideon sat on the end of the bed, his desire quickening while he watched Kay undress. Suddenly, the thought of going for a walk wasn’t as appealing as it had been. Scooting back against the headboard, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, afraid that if he took her in his arms here and now, he would never be able to let her go.
“Are you ready?”
He opened his eyes to see Kay—clad in jeans, sweater, and tennis shoes—standing beside the bed.
She lifted an inquisitive brow. “I thought you wanted to go for a walk.”
“Right.”
“The river isn’t far,” Kay said. “And it’s beautiful at night.”
Hand in hand, they left the house and made their way toward the river. He heard the hushed sound of slowly moving water before he saw the river. As Kay had said, it was beautiful. By moonlight, the river looked almost otherworldly as it meandered between low hills covered with pine trees and the brush-covered riverbank.
“Is it true vampires don’t change?” Kay asked after a time. “I mean, do they really stay the same as they were when they were turned?”
Gideon nodded. “Forever the same,” he murmured, and couldn’t hide the slight note of wistfulness in his voice.
“Hmm.” She couldn’t imagine what that would be like. Not growing old and sick would be nice, and yet change, whether good or bad, was a part of life. She studied him surreptitiously while they walked, admiring his broad shoulders, the way his jeans clung to his backside, the way the moon’s light bathed his long black hair with silver. Lucky for Gideon, that he had been turned while he was still young and virile, a man in the prime of his life, she mused. And lucky for her, too.
“Hmm, what?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing. I was just … nothing.”
He slid a glance at her, then stooped and picked up a rock. He skipped it across the water, then burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?”
“You are.”
Kay sucked in a deep breath, knowing, even before he said anything else, that he had been walking around in her head again.
“So,” he drawled, “you think it’s lucky that I was turned in my prime?”
“Gideon!”
“Because my—let me put this as delicately as I can—because my backside is so fine?”
“I hate you,” she said, between clenched teeth. “I really hate you.”
He laughed as he pulled her into his arms. “Doesn’t sound like it to me, not when you think I’m the sexiest man you’ve ever met.”
“Please stay out of my head,” she implored. “It’s so unfair.”
“I know.” He cupped her face in his hands. “And I’d be happy to kiss you, right here, right now.” No longer laughing, he lowered his head to hers and kissed her deeply, almost desperately. She leaned into him, the lush curves of her body warming his, chasing away every thought but the need to possess her.
It took all of his willpower to let her go, to remind himself that he had brought her here to keep her safe.
“Gideon,” she murmured. “Maybe we should go …” Her head jerked up when a melancholy howl shattered the quiet of the night.
“You’re not afraid of a wolf, are you?” Gideon asked with a teasing grin.
“It’s not just any old wolf,” Kay said. “It’s my father.”
Gideon glanced up. A crescent moon hung low in the night sky. “I thought your people only changed when the moon was full?”
“Alphas can change anytime.”
“You neglected to mention that little fact,” he muttered.
“Did I? A few of the other wolves can also change at will.”
“I’m not worried about them,” Gideon said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Do you think your father knows we’re here?”
“I don’t know.” Her gaze swept the hills. “I don’t think so. He usually goes out every night about this time and runs the perimeter of our territory.”
Another howl rumbled through the night. “So,” Gideon said, his gaze sweeping the darkness, “tell me about your old man.”
Kay wrapped her arms around her waist and stared into the distance. “What do you want to know?”
Gideon shrugged. “Anything. Everything.”
“He’s very strict. Very honest. Very Indian. His ties to the past, to the old ways, are strong. There are legends of shape-shifters among our people, tales told around campfires late at night.”
“Only they aren’t legends, are they?”
“Not entirely. It’s believed that the first true werewolf was a distant ancestor who was cursed by a witch for killing her pet wolf. Angry and afraid of what he’d become, the young warrior went crazy, killing everything that crossed his path.
“That first werewolf was the son of a Lakota medicine man. The shaman trapped the werewolf, intending to kill it for the good of the tribe, but he couldn’t do it. Instead, he tried to remove the witch’s curse, and when that failed, the shaman met with the witch and begged her to remove the spell, but she refused. He went to her every day until, after six months, she took pity on the old shaman and altered the curse so that it was only in effect on the night of the full moon.”
“Good thing the warrior didn’t kill a grizzly bear,” Gideon remarked.
“Anyway,” Kay went on, “the curse was passed from father to son. Over the centuries, our people learned to control their feral side until, today, we are a relatively civilized race. The Alpha keeps the pack in control. The pack keeps the individual members in line. There’s no room in the pack for rogue wolves. They’re dangerous to others, and to our existence.”
“And the compound is to help keep the pack in line?”
“More or less. We can hunt here, on our land, without fear. Our children are schooled here. They’re taught the old ways, the old stories. There was a time when we were a proud people. My father is trying to instill that same sense of pride and honor in our youth. It isn’t easy.”
“I’m surprised he let you go off on your own.”
“I think he was hoping that living on my own would scare me back here, that I wouldn’t be able to cope with life in the real world and that I’d come running home. Instead, just the opposite happened. For the first time in my life, I felt like I was where I was supposed to be. I had friends, a job, responsibility. I had the freedom to make my own decisions, my own mistakes.”
He mulled that over a moment or two before asking, “So, who are the other wolves that can change at will?”
“My aunt Greta. She’s the pack’s Alpha female. Victor and his father. Of course, they aren’t members of our pack, but allies.”
Gideon nodded. “Come on,” he said, as another howl filled the air. “Let’s get back to our room before we draw a crowd.”
Kay didn’t argue. Whether she liked it or not, her days of freedom were over.
* * *
Chapter 19
Kay sat in front of the TV, though she had no idea what she was watching. Her eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep. All night and into this morning, she had heard her father howling. Had she been able, she would have shifted and gone out to meet him. Her sudden desire to r
un through the night with him had come as a surprise. Since leaving the pack, she had rarely thought about changing except when the moon was full, but last night, she had wished for the ability to change at will and join her father. Almost, it had felt as though she had the power to call on her wolf if she could only concentrate hard enough, but it was just wishful thinking. Only full-blooded Alphas and those of their bloodline had the power to shift back and forth at will.
She glanced at the bed where Gideon lay sleeping. Gideon had made love to her when they’d returned to the bed-and-breakfast. Never had he caressed her so gently or kissed her so tenderly. He had held her close all night long, kissed her one last time before surrendering to the dawn.
It had felt like good-bye.
With each passing hour, Kay’s uneasiness at the thought of returning to the pack grew stronger. What would her parents think when she brought a stranger home? To her knowledge, no one other than her father had ever brought an outsider into their compound—especially someone who was a vampire. Gideon was vulnerable during the day. Was she putting his life in danger by not sending him away?
Her thoughts returned to her father. She had spent a good part of the morning wondering if he had known she was nearby, but if he had known her whereabouts, she was pretty sure he would have been knocking at her door, demanding to know why she hadn’t come straight home.
Curling up in a corner of the sofa, she hugged a pillow to her chest. Between her father and the witch, neither her future nor Gideon’s seemed very secure.
Gideon woke with the setting of the sun. Sitting up, the first thing he saw was Kay, staring out the window. He didn’t have to read her mind to know she was unhappy. He couldn’t really blame her. It was hell, being forced to submit to another’s will. Thanks to Verah, he knew that firsthand. His only real chance of avoiding the witch was to stay away from Kay. If they separated, Verah would never find him. His problem would be solved. But Kay would still be in danger. And if Kay couldn’t or wouldn’t tell Verah what she wanted to know, Verah was as likely to kill her as not. And that was a chance he couldn’t take.
“Kiya.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the sound of his voice.
“Come here, Wolfie.”
Turning away from the window, she cocked her head to the side. “Wolfie?”
Shrugging, he held out his arms.
She crawled over the foot of the bed and snuggled up beside him. “Does this mean I can call you Vampy?”
“Honey, you can call me anything you want, as long as you call me.”
Kay groaned. “I can’t believe you used that old line.”
“What can I say, I’m old.” He stroked her hair, frowning when she remained silent. He knew what she was thinking because he was thinking the same thing. This was likely the last night they would be alone with each other for a while, perhaps forever.
Kay nibbled on her thumbnail a moment, then said, “Maybe she’ll stop looking, after a month or so.”
“Maybe.”
But Kay would be married before that happened.
Neither of them spoke the words, but the knowledge hung in the air between them.
It didn’t take long to pack, and as far as Kay was concerned, it didn’t take nearly long enough to drive to the Shadow Pack’s compound.
Hoping to delay her reunion with her father for a few more minutes, she said, “Go around to the back.”
Gideon sent her a questioning glance but did as she asked. Pulling up alongside a ten-foot-high electrified fence, he switched off the engine, then rested his forearms on the steering wheel.
“Pretty country,” he remarked, glancing around. Nothing but trees and hills as far as the eye could see. Tall pines grew close together near the compound, shielding the occupants from casual observers.
“We own several thousand acres of land, but only the compound is fenced,” Kay explained. “Ostensibly, the barrier is to keep predators from attacking our stock. In reality, it’s to alert the pack to intruders.”
She had scarcely finished speaking when Gideon sensed they were no longer alone. Before he could react, he felt the sharp edge of a silver-bladed knife at his throat.
Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Gideon saw a stocky man standing beside the car door, a man with dark brown hair and yellow eyes that gleamed like molten gold in the moonlight.
“Father!” Kay exclaimed. “What are you doing?”
Gideon went still, his body tense and poised to strike as the blade nicked his flesh. “Maybe we should have called first.”
“Shut up, vampire.” The Alpha glared at his daughter. “Kiya Marie, why have you brought this bloodsucker to our land?”
“Maybe because his life is in danger for saving mine,” Kay snapped.
“Explain,” her father said, his voice equally sharp.
“It’s a long story,” Kay said. “Perhaps we could make our guest comfortable while I tell you.”
A muscle throbbed in the Alpha’s jaw as he slowly withdrew the blade. “What’s your name, vampire?”
“Gideon Marquet.”
“I am Russell Alissano, leader of the Shadow Wolf Pack.”
“I know who you are.” Gideon clenched his hands on the wheel, resisting the urge to wipe away the blood trickling down the side of his neck.
Alissano slid the knife into the sheath on his belt. “Bring your car into the compound, Marquet. Kiya, we’ll be waiting for the two of you in the den.” His gaze moved from his daughter to Gideon and back again. Then, in a move so quick it would have been little more than a blur of motion to mortal eyes, Alissano sprang over the fence and disappeared into the shadows.
“Well,” Gideon drawled, “that went better than I expected.”
At Kay’s direction, Gideon drove to the front entrance and through the wrought-iron gate that opened onto the compound. He whistled softly as he parked the car. He didn’t know what he had expected a werewolf ’s home to look like, but this wasn’t it.
Exiting the vehicle, he looked out over the pack’s domain. A large white house—a mansion, actually—dominated a slight rise surrounded by ancient oaks, affording an excellent view of the surrounding area. Below the rise, laid out in a large circle around the mansion, stood a dozen smaller houses painted in a variety of earth tones.
Spread out behind the smaller houses were courts for basketball, volleyball, and shuffleboard, a couple of horseshoe pits, a number of swings, monkey bars, and a sandbox. There was also a baseball diamond, a swimming pool, and a wading pool. Tables, chairs, and chaise lounges were scattered on the deck between the two pools; a built-in brick barbeque was anchored to one side.
A number of old-fashioned Lakota lodges made of buffalo hides, their tops blackened by countless fires, lined one side of the property, along with what he guessed was a sweat lodge.
A large barn painted a traditional red and white stood near the far corner of the property, along with several peeled-pole corrals, three wooden sheds, and what looked like a chicken coop. A faint breeze carried the scent of cows, goats, sheep, horses, pigs, and chickens.
“Home, sweet home,” Kay murmured, moving to stand beside him.
“Beats the hell out of Verah’s basement,” Gideon remarked as he opened the trunk and removed her luggage.
Kay couldn’t argue with that. But no matter how lavish the rooms or how kind the guards, a prison was still a prison. And after spending nine months on her own, the compound seemed more like a jail than ever.
Gathering her self-control, she climbed the porch steps, hesitated a moment, then opened the door.
Gideon trailed at her heels, his senses on high alert. He paused outside the front door, repelled by the power of the threshold.
Kay glanced over her shoulder when he didn’t follow her inside.
Gideon arched one brow. “Vampire, remember?”
“You really can’t come in? I always thought that was just some sort of myth.”
“I wish it was.”
<
br /> “What happens when you try?”
“It’s like butting my head against a brick wall.”
“What happens if someone invites you in and then changes their mind?”
“They can revoke the invitation.”
She considered that a moment, then smiled and said, “Gideon Marquet, come in, and welcome.”
With a wry grin, he followed her into the house, across a tiled entryway, through a living room decorated in earth tones, and down a wide hallway lined on both sides with family portraits. They passed several closed doors before coming to a den paneled in rich, dark mahogany.
Gideon dropped her suitcase beside the door, then stood there, his arms crossed over his chest as he perused the room.
An antique rolltop desk stood against one wall; a floor-to-ceiling bookcase took up most of another. Four comfortable-looking chairs and a pair of love seats, all covered in a deep red fabric, were clustered together in one corner.
Kay’s father sat on one of the love seats, his back erect, his expression shuttered. A pretty woman with light brown hair and vivid blue eyes sat beside him, her hands tightly folded in her lap. Kay’s mother, Gideon supposed. A younger woman with the same stocky build and coloring as Kay’s father occupied the second love seat; a dark-haired man sat beside her. A tall man with short white-blond hair and pale, close-set brown eyes slouched in one of the chairs, his long legs stretched negligently in front of him.
As soon as Kay entered the room, the brown-haired woman leaped to her feet and threw her arms around Kay. “Welcome home, Kiya.”
“Hello, Mother.”
“I’ve missed you.” Kay’s mother stood back, her gaze moving over her daughter in a long, assessing glance. “You look well.”
“More than well,” the young blond male said, rising. “You’re even prettier than when you left us.”
“Hello, Victor,” Kay said, her voice cool.
He stepped toward her, smiling.
When he bent to kiss her, she turned her head to the side so that his lips grazed her cheek.
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