The Wolf’s Bait
The Wolf’s Peak Saga Book II
A Paranormal Romance Novel
by
Patricia Blackmoor
Copyright © 2016 by Patricia Blackmoor. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to business, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely incidental.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
* * *
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty–One
Chapter Twenty–Two
Chapter Twenty–Three
Chapter Twenty–Four
Chapter Twenty–Five
Chapter Twenty–Six
Chapter Twenty–Seven
Chapter Twenty–Eight
Chapter Twenty–Nine
Chapter Thirty
Sneak Peek
Chapter One
I stared off into space as Bridget rummaged through my wardrobe.
“Let’s see,” she muttered. “Here!”
She pulled out two dresses in a flourish of fabric. “What do you think? I thought the colors were nice. Perfect for Christmas.”
“They’re lovely,” I said.
She held up their hangers. “But which do you like better?”
I squinted my eyes and took a look. The skirt on the cranberry dress hung a little straighter, but the white lace neckline stretched higher. The emerald dress held a sheen in the light, and the skirt swished around it.
“What’s the red one made of?” I asked. “Velvet?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And what’s the green one?”
She examined it. “Taffeta, I think.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I’ll do the red.”
“Good! I like this one better anyway. I think the color will be stunning with your complexion.”
“Thank you, dear.” I smiled, but I wasn’t paying her much attention. I watched the fire crackle in the fireplace and the snow drift past the window. My mind refused to focus on choosing an outfit for the party.
Bridget hung the red dress on the outside of the wardrobe, then turned to me. She was quiet for a moment, her mouth twisted like she was considering something. Finally, she spoke.
“May I be bold for a moment, ma’am?”
I looked at her in surprise. “Of course you can, Bridget. You should know by now that you can always speak your mind with me. Lord knows, I need someone in this house to be honest.” I muttered the last part under my breath, and she didn’t seem to hear. Bridget came and sat down next to me on the bed.
“You’ve been a little different as of late,” she said. “Granted, I’ve only known you for about eight months now, but ever since you came out of the forest you’ve been quiet and withdrawn. Is everything all right?”
“Oh, yes,” I sighed. “I’m sure it’s only the pregnancy emotions.”
It was a lie, and the irony of craving honesty while being dishonest myself wasn’t lost on me. However, the pregnancy seemed as good of an excuse as any, and I didn’t want to—or didn’t know how to—be transparent with Bridget. To sell it a little better, I rested my hands on my belly and felt a slight movement as the baby rolled around.
“I suppose that’s understandable,” Bridget said. “When Mary was pregnant, she was an emotional wreck.”
“Mary? The girl with the short hair?”
I had spent one night living on the streets of Ervine, a city right outside of London. It wasn’t a pleasant night, as Mary had stolen all my things, but it was how I had met Bridget.
“I didn’t realize she had a baby,” I said.
Bridget shifted her gaze from mine. “She lost the baby a few months into her pregnancy.”
“Oh.”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t,” I reassured her. “I’m already nervous. There’s a genetic condition that the baby will inherit. I’m more worried about that than losing the baby.”
Bridget shook her head. “Forgive me, ma’am, but quite frankly, that’s ridiculous. Isn’t it better to have your baby alive, even if it does have a genetic condition?”
Guilt settled in my stomach. “You’re right,” I admitted.
She gave me a small smile. “I’ll take care of your clothes for the party. Why don’t you go see how Annabelle is coming along downstairs?”
I was grateful for the out she had given me. I nodded, standing up from the bed. Bridget went back to my wardrobe, reorganizing my gowns, while I slipped out the door.
As I started down the staircase, warmth blossomed in my heart. It was a warmth I always got around Christmas, no matter how desperate my situation had been. Garland twisted around the banister, and a tall tree stood, magnificent, in the middle of the entry hall. Candles glowed in every perceivable nook and cranny that wasn’t stuffed with pine boughs. I marveled at the beautiful work the staff had done to decorate the house. Perhaps my situation had changed rapidly from last year, but the air still held the familiar aura of Christmas.
I crossed under an archway marked with mistletoe and made my way into the ballroom. This party was meant to be different than most we had held here at Wolf’s Peak. Not a garden party; there was too much snow. Not a dinner party; we would be inviting too many people for that. This party was meant for guests to mingle and socialize throughout the first floor of the manor. We had debated closing off the ballroom entirely to discourage a formal atmosphere, but ultimately, we had set up a few tables around the piano.
“Just a little higher,” Annabelle directed to a man hanging garland and tinsel. She turned when she heard me approach the ballroom. Her hands were on her hips, and she was squinting at the decor. “What do you think, Christine?”
“Beautiful,” I said. “It feels like Christmas.”
“Well, it is a Christmas party, so that’s sort of the point,” she said. “Did Bridget help you choose a dress? I would have done it myself, but—” she gestured to the ballroom, in various stages of decoration.
“It’s quite all right. We chose a red one, a sort of cranberry color. It’s flowy so it will give me plenty of room here.” I looked down at my protruding belly.
Annabelle came over and gave me a side hug, resting her other hand on my bump. “Have I told you yet how adorable you look pregnant?”
“Not today.”
“Shame.” She shook her head. “Only, what, two months left?”
“Just about. The doctor estimates the beginning of March.”
“Your first one is usually late anyway,” she sighed. “Daniel was born two weeks after the doctor had said. I felt like a whale.”
I smiled, but silence fell between us, seeming to engulf the room.
“Where is everyone?” I asked, trying to break it. “It seems quiet in here. Did they all leave?” We’d had a full table at dinner.
“The men are in the library,” Annabelle said, gesturing haphazardly at the doorway. “They’ve been in there for at least an hour, so I would think they’ll be done soon.”
“Fantastic. I was hoping to grab a book before bed.”
“It’ll probably be a while until I’m in bed,” she said. “I’ve still got loads to do.”
“Can I help with anything?” The party was being held in my home, but unsurprisingly, Annabelle had taken the reins when it came to planning.
“Oh, I’m all right.”
“Really, Annabelle, I insist.”
She sighed. “Christine, you need your rest. You can’t be climbing on things to try to hang up decorations and staying up late.”
“I think you’re being a little overcautious—”
She looked at me for a moment. “All right. If you want to help, can you go check with the cook and see how things are coming along? See if they need anything?”
“That’s something I can do,” I confirmed.
On my way to the kitchen, I passed by the library. Through the thick walls I heard voices, but it was impossible to make out what they were saying. Unlike some of the others in the house, I didn’t have enhanced hearing.
I ducked into the kitchen. This late in the evening, most of the extra staff we’d hired for the party had left. Now, the only people that were still in the kitchen were the cook, her assistant Daisy, and Bridget, who must have taken the back staircase to end up here without passing by me. The cook was seasoning the pig that she would set to roast in the morning, while Daisy was putting the finishing touches on a batch of Christmas cookies. Bridget sat on a stool, unhelpfully eating cookie crumbs.
“How’s everything coming along in here?” I asked.
“Wonderfully, ma’am,” the cook said. “We’re almost done for the night.”
“Thank you, Hannah,” I said. “I know it’s a lot of work.”
“All part of the job,” she said, her face flushing in embarrassment.
“Christine, you’ve got to try one of these cookies,” Bridget said, licking crumbs from her fingertips. “They’re fantastic.”
I reached over and grabbed a small chocolate cookie from the platter. It nearly melted in my mouth. “Oh my goodness, Daisy, that is fantastic.”
She looked down at the ground. “Thank you, ma’am,” she muttered. Although it had been months ago, Daisy had continued to keep her distance after accidentally poisoning me. I hadn’t yet figured out how to make her more comfortable.
“Daisy’s an expert with the cookies,” the cook said. “She’s got a knack for the pies, too. And the cakes. Really anything with sugar and flour.”
“I’ve noticed. We’re too lucky,” I said.
Daisy still wouldn’t meet my eyes. Inwardly, I sighed. A part of me hated seeing her feeling awkward, but a bigger part of me was too overwhelmed with every other part of my life to deal with it. Still, that small part nagged at me, making me feel guilty for the second time that night.
“Perhaps we’ll have to give you a promotion,” I said, and for the first time in months, Daisy smiled at me.
I reported back to Annabelle, letting her know that all was well in the kitchen and everything was on track. I left her in the ballroom, fatigue beginning to overtake me. As I slipped out the door, I saw a line of my husband’s councilmen leaving the library, chatting amongst themselves. Perfect timing.
I started toward the library when I was stopped by Jasper.
“Are you about to retire for the night?” he asked.
“That was my plan,” I told him. “I thought perhaps I would get a book first.”
“Would you like me to come join you for a bit?”
I bit my lip, my stomach churning. Since I had come out of the woods, relations between us had remained strained, to say the least. I was happy he was safe, and he was happy I was safe, but beyond that, I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel. We hadn’t spent much time together since—only a few days and fewer nights. I had been claiming pregnancy–related problems, headaches, and fatigue, but I didn’t know how much longer our marriage could last that way.
“I’m a little tired,” I admitted.
His face fell. “Oh, I see.”
The guilt festered, a tension constricting my chest, and I took a breath. “However, if you wanted to come upstairs with me in a little bit, that might be nice.”
He smiled. “I would like that very much.”
Truthfully, I missed him. I missed being that close to another human being, especially one I had fallen so deeply in love with. Still, I had a hard time ridding myself of the feeling of betrayal that rang through me every time I saw him, and to be honest, a feeling of fear as well.
“I’ve got some business to attend to,” he said, “but I can meet you in perhaps an hour? Will you still be awake?”
Undoubtedly. “I’m sure I will be,” I said.
“I’ll try not to take too long. I’m exhausted as well, and we’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”
Lester’s head poked around Jasper’s shoulder. “Speaking of tomorrow, what time are we expected to arrive?”
Jasper rolled his eyes at the old man. “Try to get here around six.”
Lester nodded. “I can do that.”
He and many of the other councilmen disappeared out the front door, with the exception of Stephen, who went to seek out Annabelle and see what sort of tinsel trap his wife had gotten into. Jasper turned back to me once they had all cleared away.
“Sorry about that,” he said.
“Do you think I’m not used to your men needing you by now?” I asked him, a smirk settling on my lips. “I think they need you more than I do.”
“That’s undoubtedly true.” It was meant as a joke, but there was sorrow behind his eyes.
I struggled to hold eye contact. I bit my lip and pulled my arms to my chest, looking down at the ground. Jasper cleared his throat.
“I’d better get started on my work,” he said, gesturing toward his study. “I’ll see you when I’m done?”
“Yes, of course,” I said, keeping my head down.
Once his study door was shut behind him, and I was sure he would be distracted, I slipped into the library, closing the heavy double doors. I leaned back against them, shutting my eyes and taking deep breaths. Why did things with my husband have to be so complicated?
The men had left a lamp burning in the center of the table. I rolled my eyes. Convenient for me, but one day a forgotten lamp was going to cause all of Wolf’s Peak to be engulfed in flames. I picked it up off the table, using it to light my way as I crossed over to the spiral staircase leading to the library’s second level, a loft taking up half the space of the library.
It seemed that no matter how many times I asked the maids to wipe the rails and shelves in here, they never seemed free of several layers of dust. The iron railing was thick with it, but I held on, knowing that with my unusual center of gravity, I was at an even greater risk than normal to take a tumble.
Once I had made it to the top, feet landing on the solid wood and thick rug, I weaved my way around tables to the far corner of the library. Setting the lamp down on the nearest table, I knelt down to pull out the book on the bottom shelf. This was a section of the library I had spent weeks in since my time in the forest, and I never seemed to find the comfort I was seeking. Many of the books were handwritten in old languages I didn’t understand, and what I guessed to be some form of Celtic. The illustrations were certainly illuminating enough. None of them showed the process to be particularly beautif
ul. I had asked Jasper plenty of questions, and he had given me the best answers he could, but they weren’t good enough, weren’t the comforting answers I sought.
The illustrations of the wolves themselves were gorgeous works of art, showing the wolves as massive and majestic, overlooking trees or canyons. Everything leading up to that point, though, was horrific enough that they’d appeared in several of my nightmares. Men in various stages of the transformation, from their teeth falling out to their claws ripping through the tips of their fingers, to their bones cracking and breaking to recreate their form.
Every night that I looked at these images, I felt sick to my stomach. I rested my hand on my belly. Tears sprang to my eyes as I thought about my son.
“What are you going to become?” I whispered.
Chapter Two
I stared out the window of my bedroom, moonlight filtering through the frost on the glass. It wasn’t a full moon; that had been a few nights ago, the evening that Jasper had returned from England. I kept a close watch on the phases of the moon now, knowing that those phases governed the fates of my husband and future child.
Jasper was snoring softly beside me, his body so warm that although it was December, I only needed to use one blanket. Jasper had dozed off over an hour ago, but I struggled to fall asleep. I tossed and turned.
This wasn’t rare. Ever since I had come out of the woods I had struggled to sleep, lending credence to my claims of fatigue. My thoughts were filled with agony over what was going to happen to my son, what life would be like for him as a werewolf. How could I possibly relate to him? How was I supposed to parent a child when I was terrified that at any moment he could turn on me?
The Wolf's Bait (The Wolf's Peak Saga Book 2) Page 1