The Wolf's Bait (The Wolf's Peak Saga Book 2)

by Patricia Blackmoor

  “Christine, please sit down,” Jasper muttered to me. “You’ve had quite the night all ready.”

  “I won’t sit down,” I said. “I’m only saying what everyone else is thinking. Seth is the only one savage enough to do something like this. He attacked me, poisoned me, stabbed me, and tried to kill us both in the woods! Or are you forgetting?”

  “Of course not, Christine,” Jasper said. “But you’re forgetting something.”

  “What’s that?” My voice was still defiant, angry.

  “Evidence. Our law works like human law. The elders won’t punish anyone without proof, and right now we don’t have that. Besides, there’s already a watch out for Seth. We’re already doing everything we can to catch him.”

  I sank down into my chair, weary. “I suppose.”

  “We will look for proof that Seth did this,” Jasper assured me.

  “In the meantime, we do need to be open to other possibilities,” said Watson. “Just in case.”

  He turned to Conor. “Did he have any enemies?”

  Conor shook his head. “He wasn’t a particularly pleasant man and didn’t have many friends, but I wouldn’t say he had many enemies.”

  “Who benefits most from his death?”

  “Me, I suppose,” Conor said, twisting his mouth. “I am—was—his sole benefactor. However, I would like to remind you all that I’m a doctor with my own practice. I don’t need his money.”

  “All the same, please don’t leave the country.”

  “Wouldn’t dream of it,” Conor said dryly.

  The men continued to talk for a while, but I had blocked them out. My body was running on empty. I was exhausted. All I wanted was a decent night’s sleep, but after what I had seen, that seemed improbable.

  When the men ended their meeting, Bridget went with me up to my bedroom. She ran a warm bath and added lavender oil, then brought me a cup of tea. I was relaxed, and oh so tired, but I was still fearful that I wasn’t going to get much sleep.

  As I was changing into my nightgown, there was a knock at my door. After a moment, Jasper entered.

  “How are you holding up?” he asked me, concern filling his eyes.

  “It’s been quite the day,” I sighed.

  “That it has.”

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry for my outburst.”

  He came and sat next to me on the bed. “Christine, it’s completely understandable. You had seen something horrific only moments before; it’s only expected that you would be upset. Honestly, I’m surprised you weren’t more so. And if I’m being completely honest, I agree with you. I think this was Seth, and it makes me sick that he was so close to our home and to our guests, and that he’s trying to ruin our holidays.”

  “It’s not ruined,” I said.

  He smiled at me before enveloping my shoulders in a hug. “I’m glad you think so.”

  I leaned my head against his shoulder, for a moment pretending that he hadn’t spent the first three months of our relationship lying to me. Instead, I savored his warmth and comfort, closing my eyes. I was so relaxed with him, I found myself stifling a yawn.

  “You must be exhausted,” he said.

  “I am,” I said, “but I doubt I’ll get much sleep tonight.”

  Jasper pulled a small bottle out of his coat pocket. “Conor gave this to me in case you needed it. It’s a sleeping draught.”

  I took the little brown bottle from him. “Thank you. That should be helpful.”

  Jasper kissed me on the forehead, then stood up. “Is there anything else I can do to put you at ease?”

  I didn’t answer. I turned the bottle in my hands.

  “What if I stayed the night with you?” he asked.

  “I would like that.”

  “Give me a moment.”

  True to his word, he was back in a few minutes. He curled up under the covers with me, watching as I took the sleeping draught. I nodded off watching the fire crackle, his arm around me.

  I still had nightmares.

  Chapter Five

  The funeral took place two days later. It was a quicker turnaround than Jasper and the coroner wanted, but as it was the day before Christmas Eve, no one wanted the funeral to linger over the holidays.

  Roderick would be buried in the cemetery at Wolf’s Peak in the spring. The morning of the funeral many of the men went out early to try to dig a grave, but the ground was frozen solid. Hours of labor produced little more than chips of dirt, even with the men’s superhuman strength. After much murmuring between them, Jasper decided that we would hold the ceremony indoors and bury Roderick once the ground began to thaw.

  The funeral was held in the parlor at Wolf’s Peak. It was not well attended; Roderick didn’t have much family. Conor was there, as were Roderick’s two other nephews. These two looked much more like their uncle, with sharp features, beady eyes, and greasy black hair. Conor, as a contrast, had hair that was a copper color with bright blue eyes. His cousins, Edgar and Theodore, kept to themselves for most the funeral. None of them cried; instead the brothers had a distracted look in their eyes and fidgeted in their seats. I caught Conor shooting them looks of annoyance as they fidgeted while Lord Lester Udolf, one of Jasper’s councilmen, droned on. Roderick’s siblings who had birthed these boys had passed years ago, as had Roderick’s wife. He’d never had children, which meant the only family here was the three twenty–somethings.

  Aside from them, the entire council was there. The men who had wives had brought them along, but they kept their children at home. We stayed inside as Lester gave the eulogy. Jasper and Conor spoke as well, but Edgar and Theodore kept quiet. My eyes kept flickering over to the casket. Only half was open, and the gaping wound in his torso was covered. His eyes and mouth were closed now, but every time I saw him the nightmarish sight came back to me. I resigned myself to keeping my eyes on my lap.

  After the ceremony was over, the eighteen of us walked together over to the cemetery. He wasn’t being laid to rest today, but it would be a symbolic gesture. The stone was already in place, though I suspected it was mostly being held upright by the snow piled high behind it. True to tradition, the nephews as well as Adam had carried the casket out with us, but instead of interring it they placed it in one of the mausoleums for now. The rest of us waited by the gravesite for their return, and when they came back Conor said a few more words, Lester led us in a prayer, and we all placed flowers beside the stone. There was no music; Roderick hadn’t wanted any. Not many tears were shed. Roderick hadn’t been a particularly pleasant man, but Jasper had a lump in his throat and trouble speaking. I knew the men hadn’t gotten along well, but Roderick would still be missed.

  After we gave our respects at the grave, we all started back inside. I took up the back of the procession, pausing at my parents’ graves to deposit flowers there as well. I lingered for a moment until the others started glancing back. I hurried to catch up, careful not to slip on the icy stones.

  I was relieved to get back inside, the warmth enveloping me as soon as we walked in. Daisy and Hannah had prepared mugs of tea, hot chocolate, cider, and even coffee at Jasper’s request. I chose a hot cocoa, letting the delicious warmth warm my body. An assortment of treats, many left over from the shortened party, were included in the spread. Hazel loaded up a tray and brought it to the parlor. Like the night of the party, I was squished onto the loveseat between Hazel and Annabelle. Somehow, over the last few months, we’d become nearly inseparable, which was strange as I didn’t quite trust Annabelle and wasn’t sure how transparent I could be with Hazel. At the moment, taking gingerbread from Hazel’s plate, I didn’t care.

  More chairs had been brought into the parlor to accommodate everyone, but very few of the men were seated. A few of the councilmen’s wives had taken their place on the other loveseat, and the brothers were seated in a couple high–backed chairs by the window. Jasper stood by the fireplace with a few of his men, speaking in hushed tones over the musical recording of a harp. Initiall
y they had kept the music off, but the silence had been suffocating and awkward, so they turned it on.

  Since almost no one else was talking, we didn’t say much either. It was uncomfortable, sitting there, exchanging glances with the other wives and being ignored by the brothers. Looking around, I realized Conor was nowhere to be seen.

  “Could you excuse me a moment?” I asked the girls, and they nodded as I stood. I made my way toward the back of the house, curious as to where he might have gone off to. As I got closer to the back door his voice floated into the hallway, and I followed it into the kitchen. I poked my head inside. He and Bridget were at the table, heads bowed low, talking. I cleared my throat. Far be it from me to care much for propriety, but if anyone else were to walk in, they might get the wrong idea.

  “My lady!” Conor said, jerking his head back as he saw me.

  “Christine,” I reminded him. “Hiding out in the kitchen again?”

  Conor sighed. “I apologize if I’m not supposed to be back here. It’s just...it’s my cousins. They’re only here because they’re hoping to be bequeathed something from my uncle’s will.”

  “I thought you were the benefactor?”

  “I am. As far as I’m aware, I’m the sole benefactor. He never cared for those two. But I’m not going to tell them that. I’m going to let them stay here as long as possible. They should anyway.”

  Bridget giggled, then immediately sobered. “I apologize. This isn’t the place.”

  “Nonsense,” Conor said.

  I heard Jasper’s booming voice coming from down the hallway, and I turned away from the door. He sounded like he was addressing everyone. Conor heard it as well and stood up from the table. The two of us made our way back into the parlor, where Jasper stood in the center, speaking to the mourners.

  “Thank you all for coming together to celebrate the life of Roderick Melle,” he said.

  “This was a celebration?” Conor whispered to me, and I stifled a giggle.

  “I’ll be requiring the councilmen in the great hall. The rest of you are more than welcome to linger if you like, but the carriages are ready to take you back to your homes or the inn,” Jasper told them.

  “Your cousins are staying at an inn?” I asked Conor.

  “I told them I was having a rat problem. I don’t, but don’t tell them that,” Conor said with a grin.

  I couldn’t figure out what to make of Conor. His uncle had recently died, yet he stood here with a smirk on his face. Additionally, I didn’t like the way he had seemed to bond with Bridget. I didn’t want her getting sucked into this werewolf life. Still, he had a knack for making us laugh, and that counted for something.

  Jasper began to lead the councilmen back to the great hall, and Annabelle and I stood up to go with them. When Jasper saw us at the back of the crowd, he held his hand up.

  “I’m sorry, ladies. Councilmembers only.”

  My jaw dropped. “Why?”

  “We need to discuss some council business.”

  “That’s a lie! You’re discussing Seth,” I protested.

  Annabelle grabbed my hand. “Come on, Christine.”

  “No,” I said, pulling away from her. “I want to be a part of this. I need to be a part of this! Seth tried to kill me too!”

  “We all know what Seth did, Christine,” Jasper said. “Unfortunately, there are some things that need to be discussed that have to stay within the council.”

  More secrets. I hated it. I hated all of this. I folded my arms, angry tears welling up in my eyes.

  Annabelle took my arm, more firmly this time. “Come on.”

  Frustrated, I followed her back to the parlor. Only Hazel remained, although Bridget lingered in the doorway.

  “I can’t believe it,” I said, sinking down onto the loveseat.

  “I can,” sighed Annabelle. “It’s not the first time I’ve been shut out.”

  “It’s not fair!”

  “It doesn’t have to be fair,” Annabelle said. “They’re the council. We’re not.”

  “Why aren’t there women on the council?”

  “Because women aren’t typically werewolves,” she explained patiently.

  My head snapped up at the use of the w–word. Hazel had no reaction to it, and Bridget had wandered off, so she hadn’t heard.

  Annabelle patted my arm. “Let me check on something. I’ll be right back.”

  She left the room, following the hallway to the great hall.

  I turned to Hazel. “So, you know? About the werewolves?”

  She laughed. “Of course I do. Everyone in Weylyn is either related to one or is one. Both my father and brother are wolves. I first learned about it when I was...oh, nine, perhaps? My brother accidentally shifted in front of me. Believe me, I screamed for at least a half hour. But I’ve known since then. It wasn’t hard to figure out Adam was one, too, although he seemed surprised that I knew.”

  I nodded, looking down at my hands. Lucky her to know before she got engaged.

  She tilted her head at me. “Wait, Christine, did you not know?”

  I shook my head. “No one told me.”

  She put her hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. “Oh my God, Christine, I’m so sorry. I assumed you knew. I would have told you otherwise.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “At least you didn’t know that I didn’t know, unlike some people…”

  Annabelle flounced back into the room, a grim expression on her face. “I thought I’d try to see if we could listen in, but that’s a no. Not a surprise, since the great hall is part of the original house, but it was worth a try.”

  “Wait, the original house?” I asked.

  “Oh yes, well, Wolf’s Peak has been here for centuries. It was this great stone structure. Lovely. Then about, oh, fifty years ago maybe, there was a fire that caused most of the house to burn. Only the great hall and library were spared, although the library just barely. Luckily no one was home, but the house had to be rebuilt. So, the great hall is part of the original house, which means the walls are at least three feet of stone.”

  “Which is probably why Jasper wanted to hold congress there,” I said.

  “More than likely.”

  I glanced over at Hazel, who looked ready to say something to Annabelle. I didn’t want there to be any sort of drama. Not tonight. If I was going to argue with Annabelle, I wanted it to be in private and when I was prepared for it. Not now.

  “Hazel, how is the wedding planning going?” I asked.

  Hazel’s face lit up. “Wonderfully! It all seems so far away.”

  “When is the wedding?” I asked. She had told me once before, but in all the chaos that filled my brain, I had forgotten.

  “The end of May,” she squealed. “I can’t wait.”

  “Must be nice to have so much time to plan,” I said. I kept my voice light, but I was envious. Jasper and I had been married within two weeks. Originally, he said that it was because I had moved into Wolf’s Peak, and people would talk if I lived there too long before we were married. While that was undoubtedly part of it, I suspected the bigger part was an attempt to get me pregnant as soon as possible.

  When the men broke, I waited for Jasper to come out, but he followed the rest of them. I weaved my way down to the great hall, where Jasper was looking over a sheet of notes while nursing a glass of wine.

  “Jasper?”

  He looked up, his forehead creased and his hand rubbing at his temples.

  “Yes, Christine?”

  “You all right?”

  “A bit stressed,” he said. “Nothing to worry about.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  I moved over to the table and pulled out a chair, but he waved me away. “Christine, I’ve got to figure some things out. I don’t have time to chat right now. Go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I stepped back from the table, hurt. He had never dismissed me in such a way before. I knew he was busy, but I was his wife. Did that not count fo
r anything anymore?

  Of course not. I was little more than someone to carry his heir. Without a word, I stormed out of the great hall, the door slamming satisfactorily behind me. I passed by the parlor, where Hazel and Annabelle observed me with wide eyes. I stomped up the stairs and into my bedroom, again letting the door slam. I threw myself on my bed. I had said I didn’t want to be dramatic, but I needed to let Jasper know that I was hurting, and this seemed the only way to get his attention when he was deep in his notes.

  I hoped he would come visit me, but he never did. After almost an hour I changed into my nightgown and got myself ready for bed. I blew the lamp out as I stared up at the ceiling, angry tears in my eyes. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve, and Christmas was unequivocally ruined.

  Chapter Six

  After my outburst the other night, I didn’t see much of Jasper the next day. In fact, I didn’t see him again until Christmas morning. I hadn’t had much hope for Christmas, considering how the last few months, even the last week, had gone. I was surprised when I was woken by Jasper’s lips on my forehead.

  “Good morning, Christine,” he said softly. “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” I muttered, blinking as my eyes adjusted to the daylight. I smelled breakfast, and my stomach growled. Slowly, I started to wake up. I struggled into a seated position while Jasper went and stoked the fire, sending a gust of warm air my way.

  “What’s all this?” I asked him as I surveyed the tray of food.

  “Well, I thought we could have breakfast up here today,” he said. “For once, there’s only us and the servants in the house. I thought it would be more peaceful to eat upstairs.”

  “I like that,” I admitted.

  We ate in relative silence. Jasper seemed to have an odd energy, and he struggled to sit still. I watched him curiously as I ate some of the crumb cake.

  “What’s going on with you?” I asked.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s Christmas. I’m excited.”

  “All right.”

  “Let me know when you’re done.”