AMAZON KINDLE VERSION A Siberian Werewolf In London EDITED 3 9 2012

by Caryn Moya Block

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Melisande stretched in satisfaction. She was delightfully sore in all the right places. Grigori’s lovemaking had culminated in an orgasm that blew her mind. She had screamed in pure pleasure. She was almost embarrassed to go downstairs. What must Rosie and Grigori’s cousin think?

  They think I have done an excellent job pleasuring my mate.

  Grigori?

  Yes, Melika, it is I.

  How is this possible? I can hear you in my head. Where are you?

  I am downstairs in the kitchen, with the lovely Rosie. Get up, detka. Dinner is almost ready. I told you our mating bond connected us on a psychic level. We can reach for each other telepathically at any time.

  Okay, let me think about this. I can speak to you with my thoughts?

  Yes.

  Anytime I want? From anywhere?

  Yes, though distance does weaken the communication. Great distances will prohibit it.

  This is better than a cell phone.

  Come downstairs. Naptime is over.

  Spoilsport.

  I do not understand this term.

  How about Killjoy?

  No, but I do not think you are being properly respectful to your mate.

  You could come up and spank me.

  Melika.

  Oh, okay. I’ll be down in a few.

  Grigori smiled at his mate’s outrageous behavior. She never hesitated to challenge him. He loved it. She was everything he needed in a mate. The smile slowly left his face as he remembered she still didn’t know about his wolf spirit. Would she still love him when she knew the truth?

  There was a hesitant knock at the back door.

  “I’ll get it, Rosie. Don’t trouble yourself,” Grigori said as he moved to the back door.

  He already smelled the musky scent of lycanthrope. He opened the door and found two young people standing on the stoop. One was a tall young man, who looked about seventeen, wearing the uniform of a local fast food place. The other was a smaller, more delicate youth, who wore a baseball cap low over his face, an overlarge T-shirt and baggy pants.

  “We’re here to see, Rosie,” said the taller of the two.

  “Oh, come in Seth, little Joe. This is Mr. Grigori, my new boss. Mr. Grigori, this is Seth and Joe, two of my boys,” Rosie said.

  Grigori didn’t miss the slight emphasis on the word boys, nor did he miss the slight sweet scent of female lycanthrope. Little Joe was indeed small for a lycanthrope male and evidently kept a secret from her brothers. Grigori winked at Rosie and held the door open wider.

  “Come on in. Rosie is almost finished with dinner. Have a seat. Can we get you something to drink?”

  “Thank you, sir. Water will be fine,” Seth answered politely.

  Grigori noticed that Joe nodded in agreement, but kept his head down. As Grigori moved toward the refrigerator, little Joe shied away. Grigori frowned in worry. Little Joe acted like there was some abuse in his past. Grigori didn’t like to think anyone would abuse a child. But he knew it did happen. Rosie had adopted these children. Surely she knew they weren’t entirely human.

  Then there was the question of what was to be done. Young lycanthropes needed to be schooled in controlling their baser instincts, as well as their shifting. A call to Dmitry Volkov, the Alpha lycanthrope was in order.

  Just then, Brencis and Valerii walked in the back door, talking. Grigori watched the two pups as they both looked up. Seth looked excited to see more of his kind, while little Joe’s eyes locked on Valerii and never moved. Grigori picked up a slight difference in Little Joe’s scent. He wasn’t as young as Grigori had first assumed. Valerii would have his hands full with this one.

  “Brencis, Valerii, may I present, Seth and Little Joe, two of Rosie’s children. Rosie, when will we meet the rest of your family?”

  “I’m sure the others will be around sometime soon. If’n you don’t mind, of course,” Rosie said.

  “The more, the merrier, Rosie. A pack sticks together,” Grigori said, wondering how she would react.

  “That it does, Mr. Grigori. Mine more than most. But the boys might be needing a man’s influence in their lives.”

  “It would be my pleasure to tutor the children in whatever they need,” Grigori answered.

  Not only was it needed, but required of him to help the young pups. The orphaned children of the pack normally became wards of the Alpha, but the whole pack always helped raise and support them. To find two of them here was a miracle and an obligation Grigori refused to ignore. Now all he needed to know was if Rosie’s other children were also lycanthropes.

  “Dinner is ready to be served,” Rosie said. “Seth, you and Joe, take this pot home to your brothers. I’ll be home after I wash the dishes.”

  “Don’t worry about the dishes, Rosie. Brencis and Valerii will help out in that area, won’t you?” Grigori asked, looking pointedly at the two.

  “Sure thing, Rosie,” Brencis said. “We’ll get the dishes. The food smells wonderful. Here let me get that big pot for you.”

  Grigori turned away in satisfaction as Brencis and Valerii jumped to help their new cook. They would see that she and the pups got home safely. Life was getting complicated. First, a new mate, and now these pups.

  Melisande might have that big family she wanted a lot quicker than she thought. He still needed to give her the Solovyov diamond. He had meant to do it this afternoon, but got wrapped up in loving his mate. He reached into his pocket and fingered the ring. When would be the best time? Should he do it privately or in front of his family?

  The phone rang in the hallway. Grigori walked over to pick it up, wondering who was calling. Perhaps Lewis had received some news on Funenko.

  “Hello . . .”

  “Grigori Solovyov?” said a male voice quivering with indignation.

  “May I ask who is calling?”

  “This is Lord Andrew Barras. What is the meaning of you secreting my cousin away? Don’t tell me she’s your fiancée because her parents know nothing about an engagement. I want her released immediately. Melisande can stay with me. I have adequate security to keep her safe.”

  Grigori felt his wolf surge to the surface. This man thought to take his mate. That wasn’t going to happen without a fight. Feeling eyes upon him, he glanced up the staircase. Melisande stood at the top of the stairs, looking fresh and light. He put his hand over the phone and motioned to her.

  “Your cousin is on the phone. I am afraid he is rather upset. He seems to think you should be put in his care. Wait a moment, and I will let you speak to him.”

  “Lord Barras? Sorry, I was calling Melisande to the phone. Unfortunately, she declines your invitation. I know this happened very quickly, but Melisande is my fiancée, and I take care of what is mine. She will stay here with me where I can be assured of her safety.”

  Melisande came down the stairs and took the phone from Grigori. He listened in without guilt. This was his mate, and everything about her was his business.

  “Andrew, what is this about?”

  Melisande listened in disbelief. Grigori heard her cousin going on and on.

  “You called my mother? How could you? Now she will be worried sick. Well, I don’t care what you want. I’m staying right here. I am not a child. I am thirty years old. I think I am more than capable of making my own decisions. How dare you blame Grigori for this. He was here helping your Scotland Yard. I’m not sure I want to see you now. I am very angry with you. Just a moment, let me ask my fiancé if we are available.”

  Melisande turned to Grigori, her eyes wide in alarm. Grigori pulled her close, his arm wrapped around her waist. She fit so perfectly, his chin rested on top of her head.

  “Andrew would like to invite us for an early supper tomorrow. He says he will send a car for us. Are we available?”

  “If you wish,” Grigori said. “Tell him there are four of us. I am sure he will want to meet the whole family. Brencis and Valerii will accompany us.”

  Melis
ande nodded and sighed. She leaned her head against Grigori’s chest as she relayed their acceptance to the dinner invitation. She clicked off the phone and laid it on the hall table before turning back fully into his arms.

  “I could shoot Andrew for interfering. My mother will be having fits. I’m going to call her. She’ll be so worried and of course will want to lecture me. Then there is our supposed engagement . . .”

  “Not supposed, Melika.” Grigori reached into his pocket and pulled out the two-carat, emerald-cut, Solovyov diamond. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you, but things kept getting in the way.” Grigori sank down on one knee before her. “Melisande Reule, ya lyublya tyebya, I love you. Ti viy-desh za menya, will you marry me? Ya nye magu zhit byes tyebya, I can’t live without you.” Grigori held the ring out to her. His world stopped as he waited for her answer.

  Melisande’s eyes started to water as she gave a quivering sigh. “Yes, Grigori Solovyov, I will be your bride.”

  Grigori jumped up and pulled her against his thumping heart. “Thank you, God. You are mine, Melika. Here let me put the ring on your finger.”

  Grigori placed the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit. Bringing her hand up to his mouth, he kissed it into place, his heart bursting with love. He leaned over and kissed her eyes and nose, capturing the small tears of happiness that ran down her face. Then diving down, he claimed her lips.

  You are mine, always. Thank you, lyubov moya. You have given me great joy.

  I love you, too, Grigori. Don’t forget you are also mine.

  I will never forget how you claimed me this afternoon.

  Arrogant man.

  Yes, but I am your arrogant man.

  “Dinner is getting cold. I know you are hungry for your mate, but sooner or later you will need more than love to sustain you,” Brencis said nonchalantly while standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

  “Always the voice of reason, Brenka. One day love will find you, and then you will understand how I am feeling. See if there is any champagne in this house. We need to celebrate my engagement to Melika.”

  “I’ll go look. Congratulations, Melisande. You have captured a good man. I hope you know that.” Brencis turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

  Melisande watched him leave. She had a feeling that Brencis resented her. He had made it sound like she deliberately trapped Grigori. But that wasn’t true. If anyone should feel trapped, it was she. She glanced up at Grigori and saw him watching her.

  “For a long time, Brencis and I had only each other. Our parents were killed in a fire. We are like brothers. He’ll come around. He is having a hard time accepting someone new to the family. Come, let us go taste Rosie’s famous stew,” Grigori encouraged her.

  Melisande glanced down at the ring on her finger. She had wanted this man from the first moment she saw him. But was this really the right path to follow?

  §

  Funenko stood in front of three men who towered over him. Each one looked like he could easily crush a normal human. But they all looked at Funenko with trepidation. Funenko was known to kill and kill quickly. None of the men wanted to take a chance and anger him.

  “Golubev, Bogdanov, you will keep track of Solovyov and his woman. If you get a chance to cause him trouble, do so. But do not damage him. He must be alive to enjoy the consequences of betraying me. Zaytsev will come with me to find a suitable place to extract our revenge. I will call you with the address. Remember, do not go back to the old house. My informant told me the police are watching the building. That is good. They won’t be watching Solovyov. Now, go.”

  Funenko rubbed his hands as his men left. Now, where would be a good place to have his fun? Someplace to easily dump a body?

  “Ah, the warehouse district by the river. Come, Zaytsev, let’s go have a look.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The ringing of the phone brought Grigori out of his reverie. He had been watching his mate play poker with Brencis and Valerii. Even though they were playing for peanuts, literally, Melisande managed to win most of the hands. A large pile of the foodstuff was sitting in front of her. He reluctantly got up to answer the phone, wondering who was calling at nine at night.

  “Solovyov? Lewis, here. Listen, old chap, we’ve had a development. One of the officers, watching Funenko’s place got suspicious when no lights came on this evening. He scouted the place, and it’s empty. No telling if Funenko will come back. I’m afraid we’ve lost him for the moment.”

  “Idi K Chyortu, Dammit, no leads at all?”

  “None, but we’ll hit the streets and see what we can come up with. I’ll call you tomorrow with an update.”

  “Very well. Tomorrow evening we are meeting with Melisande’s cousin. He’s sending over a car.”

  “Got quite an earful about him from the captain. Seems Lord Barras doesn’t appreciate you helping out Scotland Yard. Of course, he doesn’t have a clue as to how we do our job. But he thinks he can tell us how to do it anyway. That’s the problem with politicians.”

  “Yes, well as long as Melisande is safe, then I will continue to help find these men for you. Let me know what information you come up with.”

  “Will do. I’ll have a patrol car parked outside the gate tonight. If you run into trouble, give a shout.”

  “I will. Goodnight, Lewis.”

  Grigori frowned; not knowing what Funenko was planning put them at a disadvantage. Guards must be posted. This meant playtime was over. With a sigh of resignation he returned to the parlor.

  “Funenko disappeared. Time to let the dogs loose in the yard.”

  Dogs? That’s insulting, sent Brencis.

  I couldn’t exactly say wolves, answered Grigori with his thoughts.

  “I’m sorry to break up the game, Melika,” Grigori said apologetically. “But for safety’s sake we need to make sure the perimeter is secure.”

  “She beat us to death, anyway,” Valerii said with a wink as he popped his few remaining peanuts into his mouth.

  “You guys are just lousy poker players,” Melisande smirked.

  “I’ll take the first shift,” Brencis said, rising from his chair.

  “Great. Then I better get some sleep, if you’ll excuse me,” Valerii said, heading for the stairway.

  Grigori looked at the door Brencis exited. He would take the next shift.

  Be careful, Brenka. I have a bad feeling.

  You and your bad feelings. Go take your mate to bed. I’ll be fine.

  Grigori tossed and turned while Melisande slept beside him. The bedside clock read one in the morning. The feeling of danger grew stronger. His body tingled with the need to shift. His wolf spirit wanted out to hunt the danger to its mate and pack.

  He edged out of bed and reached for his clothes, slipping them on quietly. He’d take a quick look around and hopefully calm his wolf. He could give Brencis a break and take over the watch early.

  “Where are you going?” Melisande asked as she sat up in bed.

  She looked so delightfully sexy, the sheet wrapped under her arms, her hair mussed. Grigori was tempted to go back to bed.

  “I am going to check in with Brencis. Go back to sleep, Melika,” he said, walking to the door reluctantly. The feeling of danger persisted. He needed to find out what caused it.

  “How soon will you be coming back?”

  “Miss me already, milen’kij?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nothing can keep me away for long. Rest, lyubov moya. I will hurry back to your embrace.”

  “You better. I’ll be waiting.”

  Grigori smiled and slipped out the door, making his way to the kitchen exit. It felt good to know his mate waited for him. Once outside, he paused on the stoop. The sense of danger was palatable. Someone watched.

  Brencis?

  Here by the back gate. I thought I saw someone in the alley, but I can’t smell anything except rotting trash.

  I’m coming.

  Grigori hurried through the garden and over
to the small, wrought-iron gate in the brick fence at the back of the property. Brencis stood in wolf form, his silver and gray coat shining. He looked alertly down the alley. With his ears and tail up, he looked like the alpha male he was.

  As Grigori came up to him, he caught the scent of oil and metal, a gun. He jumped forward, pushing Brencis away from the gate and behind the fence, as the sound of gunfire echoed in their ears. The blow to Grigori’s chest took his breath, and then pain blossomed and rushed through him like a fire. He lay on the ground, trying to breathe.

  “Govno! Grika, how bad are you hit?” Brencis asked, leaning over him, naked from shifting back to human form.

  “Grigori?” Melisande yelled from the back door.

  “Let’s get you inside, before your mate comes running,” Brencis said, lifting him. Grigori’s pain was unbearable, and his sight went black.

  Melisande stood at the back door in a panic. Feeling thirsty, she had come down to the kitchen for something to drink. She had heard the gun shot and felt the pain of being wounded in the chest. She actually grabbed at the site, thinking her hands would come away covered in blood. But she was fine, which is when she realized the pain must be coming from Grigori.

  Brencis came around the hedge, carrying Grigori in his arms. Melisande gasped, knowing Grigori must be hurt badly. She hardly noticed Brencis’ naked form, shining in the moonlight.

  “He’s been shot. Help me get him inside.”

  Melisande held the door open and hurried in after Brencis. Valerii came bursting into the kitchen, then ran out the back door.

  “Where is he going?” Melisande asked, grabbing a towel off the counter.

  She already saw blood dripping down Grigori’s arm. Her stomach clenched in fear. Was she going to lose him?

  “Hunting. Help me get his clothes off,” Brencis said as he laid Grigori down on the floor and kneeled over him removing his shoes.

  “We need to call an ambulance. He needs to get to the hospital.”

  “Melisande, if you want him to live, you need to help me,” Brencis said, a stricken look on his face. “Please . . .”