Victor stopped at the threshold. Jerking her around so that her back was toward him, he untied her hands. “Welcome to your new home,” he said, and shoved her inside.
“Wait!” She whirled around, but he had already closed the door. She heard a sharp click as he turned the lock. “Victor!” She pounded on the door. “Victor! Let me out of here!”
Blowing out a breath, she turned around, her gaze moving quickly over the room. Until recently, she guessed it had been used for storage. Now, there was a twin bed covered by a patchwork quilt, a small round table and a ladder-back chair in one corner, a sink and a porta-potty in the other.
Filled with restless energy, she removed her shoes and paced the floor. She had to get out of here before her father showed up with a priest, before she was forced into a marriage she didn’t want to a man she loathed. She had no doubt Victor would let her go once she gave him a child; she was just as certain that he would not let the child go with her, thereby keeping her under his thumb, at least until the child was grown.
It sounded all too horribly familiar. Only a short time ago she had declared that she never wanted to live the way her mother had.
I know, her mother had replied. But I’m afraid you don’t have any other choice.
Kay shook her head. She refused to believe that. There was always a choice.
Right now, her biggest concern was Gideon. Was he all right? Had her father killed him?
She closed her eyes, searching for him with her mind, but all she found was a dark abyss. “Calm down,” she murmured. Pressing one hand to her heart, she fought down her rising panic. The sun was up. He was probably asleep. Please, Lord, let him be resting.
Sinking down on the bed, she stared at the ceiling. He had to be all right. The worst times of her life, the best times, had been spent with Gideon. She couldn’t lose him now. It didn’t matter that he was a vampire and she was a werewolf, or that they were supposed to be enemies, or that she would have to change her lifestyle to be with him. Without Gideon, nothing would ever matter again.
Tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. She had endured worse than this at Verah’s hands and survived. She wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t give Victor or her father the satisfaction of hearing her beg or seeing her tears. She was the daughter of an Alpha and she would act the part, even if her heart was breaking.
* * *
Chapter 22
Gideon woke with the setting of the sun. It was an odd feeling, rising up out of the ground like some resurrected being, but when he was among strangers, there was no safer place to hide from his enemies or from the light of a new day than in the welcoming arms of Mother Earth. Miraculously, the creatures who spent their lives underground avoided him; dirt did not cling to his body or his clothing. When he had first been made, he had spent months trying to figure out why; now, he simply took it for granted, as he did so many of the other supernatural perks that came with being one of the Undead.
Running a hand through his hair, he opened his preternatural senses, searching for his link to Kay.
Gideon?
Her voice rang out in his mind. The relief he felt at hearing it was a palpable thing. I’m here.
Thank goodness! I was afraid they’d killed you.
I’m all right, Kiya. Are you?
Yes.
Where are you?
Victor took me home to his pack. I’m his prisoner.
Does your father know?
He was in on it. For all I know, kidnapping me was his idea. Her father was a smart man. Little escaped his notice. She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised that he knew her well enough to suspect she might try to run away and that he would take measures to ensure that she didn’t succeed. One way or another, he always had the last word.
Gideon heard the bitterness in her voice. Well, he couldn’t blame her for that. Fathers were supposed to protect their daughters. What makes you think he was behind it?
I think he overheard you propose to me. That’s the only thing that makes any sense.
Gideon mulled that over for several moments. She was probably right. Like vampires, werewolves were supernatural creatures. No doubt the Alpha’s hearing was as acute as his own.
Gideon?
Just sit tight, sweetheart. I’ll find you. Finding her would be the easy part. Getting into the home of the Alpha werewolf unobserved and uninvited might prove a little more challenging. It was unlikely that the Green Mountain Alpha would welcome him inside.
Be careful, Gideon. Don’t take any … oh! Someone’s here!
He sensed her trepidation, swore as her voice ended abruptly, breaking their connection. But the blood link remained, as clear and easy to follow as a lighthouse beacon on a cloudy night.
Victor’s home place was set in a shallow valley thick with ancient oaks and evergreens. Like the Alissano compound, it was surrounded by an electrified fence.
Instead of a large house set amidst a number of smaller, individual dwellings, there was one main residence flanked by a pair of apartment complexes, each with its own covered patio. This compound also provided outdoor games and a swimming pool.
There were two sentries patrolling the perimeter.
Standing out of sight in the shadows, Gideon timed them as they passed by. The fence wouldn’t slow him down. He could take the sentries out before they knew what hit them. Locating Kay would be a snap. It was getting into the house that presented the problem. One way or another, he had to convince someone who lived in the house to invite him inside.
But first, he needed to hunt.
Leaving the compound behind, he sniffed the air. The smell of burning wood and cooked meat drew him into the hills where he found three families—six adults and seven kids—roasting hot dogs over a campfire near a narrow stream.
Smorgasbord, he thought, and settled down to wait for the campers to turn in for the night.
It was well after midnight when Gideon made his way back to the Green Mountain compound. Most of the lights in the house and the apartments were off. Two new sentries patrolled the fence line.
Gideon went suddenly still as a light went on in the main house. A moment later, the back door opened and Victor and his father stepped outside. The two men spoke for a short time, then shed their clothing. The air shimmered around them, followed by a palpable surge of preternatural power.
When it was over, a large black wolf and a pale brown wolf touched noses, then turned and loped across the yard toward the back fence. In unison, they leaped the barrier with effortless grace and disappeared into the night. Moments later, a wolf’s howl rang out, and was quickly answered by another wolf, and then another.
Gideon blew out a breath. From the sound of it, the Alphas were running the hills together. For a moment, he was tempted to shift into wolf form and join them, just for the hell of it, but he quickly discarded the idea. With the Green Mountain Alpha gone, this might be his best chance to get into the house.
Vaulting over the fence, he moved silently through the night, every sense alert. He paused outside the patio door, listening to the hearts beating inside the house. There were three people inside—two females and a male. He recognized the beat of Kay’s heart, knew she was asleep. The male was also asleep. The other female—Victor’s mother—was awake.
Compelling mortals was generally easy. Members of the supernatural community were more difficult; some, like Alpha werewolves and master vampires, were impossible to influence. Focusing on the female werewolf, he probed her mind, implanting the idea that she wanted to go out into the backyard.
Moments later, he heard the sound of her footsteps coming toward him. The handle was turning when he caught the pungent scent of werewolf on the wind, followed by a howl that was too close for comfort.
Hissing softly, Gideon dissolved into mist. Mere seconds later, three wolves bounded onto the patio and quickly shifted into human form. One of the men was Kay’s father. The other was Victor. The third man was Victor’s father. Victor
and Russell grabbed towels from a nearby shelf to cover their nakedness as the patio door swung open.
“Vivian, is something wrong?” Victor’s father asked.
“No, Diego,” she answered, sounding confused. “I …” She shook her head. “I just had the strangest urge to go outside.” She laughed self-consciously. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“What kind of urge?” Alissano asked sharply.
“I don’t know.” Vivian shook her head. “I can’t explain it. I didn’t really want to go outside, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.”
Alissano and Diego exchanged glances.
Diego frowned. “You don’t think … ?”
Alissano nodded, his nostrils flaring as his gaze swept the shadows. “The vampire’s been here. Inside, quickly.”
Drifting away from the main house, Gideon resumed his own form. Odd, he thought absently, that his clothing changed with him, but the werewolves shed theirs when they shifted.
Cursing the untimely return of the Alphas, Gideon left the compound.
On the other side of the fence, he hunkered down on his heels, brow furrowing as he stared at the main house. He had little doubt about what was going on in there. He could think of only one thing that would bring Alissano to the Green Mountain compound.
Kay’s upcoming marriage to the Rinaldi heir.
All he had to do now was figure a way to get her out of there before she became Victor’s bride.
* * *
Chapter 23
Verah studied the three dwellings clustered inside a high, electrified fence. After much trial and error, she had finally tracked the werewolf girl to this place hidden in the hills of Wyoming. Now, standing in the drifting shadows near the front entrance, she pondered how best to get inside—and out again—without being caught. Vampires could not be compelled; she had no idea if compulsion would be effective on the fanged and furry members of the supernatural community.
Perhaps the best approach would be to wait for everyone to go to bed, then cast an invisibility spell that would allow her to enter the house undetected. Once she found the werewolf, she could try to compel her. If that didn’t work …
Verah smiled as she patted the hypodermic needle resting inside the left pocket of her traveling cloak. Drugs were an effective backup plan when magic wasn’t quite enough.
She glanced down at the black cat circling her ankles. “All we have to do now is wait.”
With a throaty purr, Rama stretched out at her feet, tail swishing back and forth.
Gradually, the house’s interior lights winked out one by one.
“Now,” Verah said. Lifting the cat into her arms, she stroked its head as she chanted softly, invoking an invisibility spell.
When it was complete, she moved toward the front gate, still stroking the cat’s head. A second spell disabled the electrical current and unlocked the gate.
Pulling her wand from her pocket, she made her way to the front door. Another quick incantation and the front door opened.
Whispering, “Wait here,” she put the cat down. She glanced left and right, then stepped lightly across the threshold.
Her tracking spell had indicated that the werewolf she sought was being held in a cellar or a basement in the nether regions of the house. Following the path the spell revealed, Verah moved unerringly down two flights of stairs. A flick of her wand unlocked the door at the bottom of the steps.
Moving inside, she willed a little power into her wand, which caused the tip to glow, illuminating the room. Frowning, she glanced around. There was no sign of the werewolf, just racks of wine bottles.
Lifting the wand higher, she noticed the door at the far end of the cellar. Another flick of her wand, and the door opened on well-oiled hinges.
The werewolf was on a narrow cot, asleep, her cheeks damp with tears.
All too easy, Verah mused. Moving closer to the bed, she plucked a hair from the werewolf’s head and wound it around the end of her wand. Lamenting the fact that it was necessary to shed the invisibility spell to invoke a new one, she murmured softly into the werewolf’s ear, planting her compulsion.
For a moment, she thought the spell had failed. But then, moving zombielike, the werewolf girl stood, her eyes open and unfocused.
Smiling, Verah whispered, “Follow me,” and led the way out of the house and into the night.
Gideon leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as the wind shifted, carrying with it a scent he would never forget. Verah. Damn! He had told Kay the witch didn’t have the nerve to beard the lion in his den. Just proved how wrong he could be. The witch had to be desperate to risk coming here, and that meant Kay’s life was in danger.
With preternatural speed, he was on his feet. He rounded the front corner of the house in time to see Verah step out onto the porch. Kay followed close behind, her movements wooden and unnatural.
Gideon stared at her, his hands clenching when he noticed the glazed look in her eyes. Damn the witch! She had put Kay under some kind of spell.
Muttering, “You can’t have her,” Gideon flew across the yard.
The black cat hissed.
Verah raised her wand and screeched an incantation, but by the time the words had passed her lips, Gideon had wrapped Kay in his arms and vanished from sight.
Verah stood momentarily frozen, like a deer caught in the lights of an oncoming truck. While she was trying to decide what to do next, the porch light came on.
Verah scooped Rama into her arms, intent on hastening away, when she suddenly found herself surrounded by three men with glowing yellow eyes.
Before she could invoke her invisibility spell again, one of the men snatched the wand from her hand, another grabbed Rama by the scruff of the neck, careful to hold the snarling cat at arm’s length. The third man sank his teeth into Verah’s neck.
Standing in the shadows a safe distance from the house, with Kay cradled tightly against his chest, Gideon watched it all happen.
At the werewolf’s bite, the witch went limp as a rag doll, offering no resistance as the werewolf dragged her into the house. The other two men followed. The last one inside slammed the door.
Gideon glanced at the sky. Dawn was only minutes away. With that in mind, he summoned his power and willed himself and Kay to his lair in Arizona. He figured they would be safe there, at least for now, what with Verah being held by Victor’s family. He would have much preferred his lair in New York, but the sun was already shining there.
Moments later, Gideon sat on the sofa in the living room of his Phoenix lair with Kay still cradled in his arms. Kissing the top of her head, he whispered her name.
She didn’t stir, simply stared blankly into the distance.
“Kiya!” He shook her shoulder. “Dammit, Kiya, snap out of it!”
Still nothing.
He tried speaking to her mind, but it was closed to him.
Gideon cursed softly. The sun was rising. There was nothing he could do until nightfall.
Carrying Kay into the bedroom, he tucked her under the covers, removed his shoes, socks, pants, and shirt, and crawled into bed beside her.
His eyelids grew heavy as the sun rose over the horizon. He hated to leave her lying there, staring up at the ceiling, but there was no help for it. The darkness was wrapping him in its snare, dragging him down into oblivion.
Gideon woke with the setting of the sun. Jackknifing into a sitting position, he looked at Kay, hoping to find her sleeping peacefully. Instead, she was lying rigid beside him, still staring blankly at the ceiling. If not for the faint rise and fall of her chest and the slow, steady beat of her heart, he would have thought her dead.
Pressing a kiss to her cheek, he went into the bathroom. He took a quick shower, dressed, and left the apartment. What he needed now was a witch. Easier said than done, he mused. Where the hell was he going to find a witch? A good witch, he amended.
He mesmerized the first man he saw, borrowed the man’s cell phone, and did a quick search
for practicing witches. He hadn’t actually expected to find one, but, to his surprise, he found one listed in Apache Junction, Arizona, by the name of Kusuma Ila. Of course, there was no guarantee that she was a genuine witch and not just some deluded old woman who read tea leaves. But it was the only lead he had.
After returning the man’s phone and wiping the incident from his mind, Gideon transported himself to Apache Junction.
He hadn’t been there in decades. It was an old town bordered by the Superstition Mountains on the east, the Goldfield Mountains on the north, and the town of Mesa on the right.
Even at night, the Superstition Mountains, well-known as the home of the fabled Lost Dutchman Gold Mine, were an impressive sight. Goldfield Ghost Town nestled near the western face of the mountains. On more than one occasion, Gideon had seen the ghosts of an old prospector and his mule walking through the town.
Kusuma Ila’s small, square house was located on a quiet residential street, literally the last place he would have expected to find an Apache witch. Dozens of rosebushes grew in wild profusion along a white picket fence. An ancient cottonwood tree shaded the front porch.
She answered the door before he knocked. As soon as she saw him, she made some kind of intricate sign with the fingers of her right hand, no doubt meant to ward off evil.
“Kusuma Ila?” She was a hundred if she was a day, Gideon thought, with skin as brown and wrinkled as old saddle leather. Her hair, worn in a long braid over her shoulder, was snow white; her eyes were deep-set, as black and sharp as those of a raven. She sure as hell looked like a witch.
She tilted her head to one side. “Have you come to drink my blood?”
“Do I look hungry?”
She grinned. “My blood is so old, one taste and you would spit it out.”
Desire the Night Page 14