by Lynde Lakes
She froze. Fear flickered in her eyes. Then she took a deep breath and blew it out, as though attempting to calm herself. “I love you for dreaming this up, Damon. However, delving into untested serums and performing expensive research to look for miracle drugs known only in fiction sounds a bit nutty. And I don’t want our babies mixed up in it.”
“Remember what Madam Nola said? She said to enjoy what we have now, build on it, and strengthen it, or it may not last.”
“How is that relevant?” Angela asked. “Never mind, I don’t care what she said. I don’t relish the idea of a team of mad scientists conjuring up mysterious potions in my home. Nevertheless, because I love you beyond reason, I won’t get in your way.” He stroked the line of her heart-shaped face. He loved her more in that moment than ever before.
His stomach knotted when she added, “But don’t involve our girls.”
He couldn’t promise that, so he said nothing. He hoped it would never become necessary. He gave her a passionate kiss that sealed any further discussion.
When she pressed her breasts into his chest, he felt a surge of heat in his groin. He deepened his voice and whispered into her ear. “Come with me down into the dungeon and let’s discuss my ideas further in privacy. Later, we can listen to some Straus and make love in front of the dungeon fireplace. I have a picnic set up down there. I can show you my layout and—”
She arched a naughty brow. “Based what I’ve seen in the past of your layout, lead on, big boy.”
* * * *
A week later, early in the morning, Damon in jeans, denim jacket and boots and his five-man team of scientists dressed in beige field-garbs and boots were barely aware of the sun rising over the purple peaks east of them.
They were too engrossed in the atypical species of rattle snake slithering on the ground toward Damon. It coiled upward, raising its two heads, and hissed. An instant before it could strike, Dr. Simon Lazar shot it with a lab stun gun and then scooped it into a net. He eased the netted unconscious snake into a clear container with air holes and started back to the lab. “No doubt about it, Mr. Lamont, weird changes are evident Yesterday, we found a rabbit with a rat’s tale and a toad with centipede legs.”
Damon’s thoughts were still on the snake. He remembered wondering, before he knew Reeves was his half-brother and a vicious killer werewolf, why when he left the room, he often reminded him of a snake slithering into the darkness.
The chill that shot through Damon had nothing to do with the chilly breeze coming from the northeast. He made a mental note to tell Angela to stay the hell away from this area.
He blew out a gust of air. His mouth felt as dry as the hillside beyond them, yet every cell in his body hummed with anticipation. He was so keyed up he had to remind himself to breathe. “What about the other studies we discussed?”
“I’ve done a great deal of research on lycanthropes, both documented reports and folklore, and I’m confident I can develop a serum. However, please understand the process is by trial and error and may take years. To achieve our goal, I’ll need a supply of healthy wolves.”
“Will they be hurt?” Damon couldn’t allow that.
“Just a prick,” Lazar said. “We need some of their blood. After we’ve tested a wide sample and performed the related studies, we’ll let them go.”
Damon watched the huge hole-boring machines plunge into the ground and bring out shovels of mud samples. When Lazar headed back to the lab, Damon followed him. The other scientists remained behind and continued gathering mud samples. “Do you need additional researchers to speed things along?”
“Ever hear of too many cooks spoiling the broth? We prefer to do our own research and studies. Bringing other egos into our limited space will impede the process.”
“I’m aware you’re all writing papers and competing for the Nobel Prize on your findings here and you want to be thorough, but time is of the essence. Lives are at risk.”
Lazar’s eyes brightened. “That’s what makes this project so exciting. Don’t worry. I’ll have answers for you soon.”
“Great. So where are we on this?”
“Our samples to date have revealed that the liquefaction in the area contains both evil toxins and healing properties—nature’s balance of good and evil in turmoil, if you will.” His mordant laugh snapped the morning air like a whip.
Damon glanced up and caught a glimpse of the backdrop of rocky, savage hills. The wolf who once resided within him loved them—they had given him a sense of freedom. Now their rugged austerity reminded him of the evil brewing under the surface. An icy sense of panic made it difficult to breathe. He thought of the two-headed snake intent upon sinking his fangs into flesh. Why did life have to be so violent? He ran his fingers through his hair. Why had he been so violent? Would he ever lose the bloody image of his brutal attack on his stepbrother? Perhaps his horrendous exploit had now come back to haunt him. His stomach knotted. “How will the toxins affect humans?”
“We can’t risk injecting humans with the sludge liquid to find out. But if a human comes into contact with it by accident, you can bet the outcome will tragic.” He laughed cynically. “It’d be an interesting commentary on nature’s weighing-scale if the liquid affected humans according to the lives they led, a healing potion to the good and a toxic potion to the evil souls.”
* * * *
A week later, Christmas rode in on a flurry of excitement and chilling breezes.
Their twenty-foot high Christmas tree filled the downstairs with the fragrance of pine, and its lights and decorations were stunning, even magical. But in spite of the festive creation that Angela, Damon and Kyle Cooper had designed and decorated together, she felt the holiday spirit was hampered by having mad scientists with joyless, pale faces marching in and out like zombies in white sterile coats.
When Angela couldn’t stand it a day longer, she said, “Damon, having the lab in the dungeon isn’t working. You forgot to mention that wolves would be housed down there. Keeping feral animals penned up is cruel, and I hate to think of the danger if one got loose. I can’t bear their forlorn howls, and after our girls are born, I don’t want wolves anywhere around. Besides, all these weird goings-on could start up all the old rumors about the mansion and the Lamont family again.”
“Your feelings are valid and understandable, but we can’t move the operation yet. We need to operate around the clock on-site to obtain the most accurate readings. If you’ll just be patient until we gauge exactly what’s going on out there in that broiling mud, I’ll be eternally grateful, and it will greatly benefit the whole community.”
She narrowed her eyes. “How long, Damon?”
The winter sun slanted low in the window and fell at their feet. As the silence extended between them, he offered his usual answer to any complaint. He drew her into his arms and kissed her until she was dizzy with wanting him, and then swept her off her feet and carried her upstairs. Damn him.
A week later, to his credit, he hired a crew to build an outside entrance to the dungeon. Understanding the importance of the work, she decided to accept the compromise for now.
* * * *
In Angela’s office, in her sixth month of pregnancy, Dudley Knox, the cowboy toad, cornered Louise the bookkeeper again and berated her until she cried. He shouted so loud that Kat came running to help. Angela waved her back. “I’ll handle this, Kat,” she said, and then leveled her gaze at Dudley. “Look, Napoleon, Louise is the best bookkeeper we’ve ever had and she deserves praise, not your constant insults.”
Dudley glared at Angela with fire in his eyes. “I’ll let you get away with your smart-mouthed insubordination because I know PG women have all those bitchy hormones charging around inside them.”
Angela bristled, but broke eye contact when she sensed Kat start forward. Again, she waved her back. No sense getting both of us canned.
Before she could let loose on him, he growled on, “But don’t get lippy again. Or I’ll fire your expanding ass
.”
Angela clenched her hands into fists. But rather than smack Dudley in the mouth like he deserved, she clamped them at her side. “Don’t bother, I quit. And I plan to tell the big bosses exactly why. And why two of our best accountants quit since they put you in charge.”
“If you know what’s good for you,” Dudley murmured, “you’ll keep your mouth shut just like they did.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is that a threat?”
“I don’t make threats. But be careful of stairs from now on. Be a shame to fall at this stage of your pregnancy.”
* * * *
Thirty minutes later when she stormed into the house, Damon met her at the door.
“I heard your car in the driveway. Is something wrong?” He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close.
In spite of the comfort his warm embrace provided, she was unable to stop trembling. She looked up at him. “I finally got enough of Dudley and quit. And then, the toad threatened me and our precious unborn babies—he said to watch out for stairs,” she muttered against a sob.
Demon released her, his eyes ablaze. “The bastard.” He balled his hands into fists. “He won’t give you any more trouble, that’s a guarantee.”
“No. Please, don’t do anything. I don’t want to escalate the animosity. I said some things maybe I shouldn’t have said. Just hold me for a few minutes.”
He drew her back into his arms. “I’m going to talk to him,” he murmured into her hair. “Afterwards, if he comes within a mile of you, I’ll kill him.”
She stiffened. “No! Don’t even say such a thing.” And she meant it, but the fact that he felt so strongly about keeping her safe sent a surge of love to her heart.
Unfortunately, as evidence by the pulse throbbing angrily in his jaw, she’d awakened a murderous emotion that would only get him in trouble. She stroked the pulsing line until it evened out and disappeared.
As though nothing had ruffled him, he bent and kissed her nose. “I’m glad you quit. It’ll give us more time together.”
“And it’ll give me more time to fix up the nursery. I want it to be perfect for our little girls’ arrival into the world. I want to decorate the room adjoining ours.
His expression darkened again. “My sister’s room?”
“No.” Her heart speeded. She didn’t want the room his sister was murdered in for their girls. “I meant the room on the other side that adjoins ours. Although it’s a bit smaller, I like the layout better.”
His expression lost its tension. “Let’s go take a look,” he said, and swept her from her feet and started up the stairway.
She shivered, remembering Dudley’s words about steps.
Damon lowered her to her feet and opened the door. The room smelled musty, and he opened a window. An air mattress lay on the floor.
“Isn’t that the mattress you kept in the dungeon?” she asked. It hadn’t been here yesterday when she looked at the room.
“I brought it up here last night.”
“Why?”
“I promised myself that we’d christen every room in the mansion with our love,” he said, getting a glint in his eyes that she knew so well.
She shook her head and laughed. “Not the nursery.”
“Definitely the nursery. Best we do it now before you start your big decorating project. Wouldn’t want to mess things up once you get the room the way you want it.”
He drew her close and trailed warm kisses down her neck while he massaged her back, her derriere. She felt a twinge between her legs. “All right.” She tried to relax and not appear too eager as he lowered her to the air mattress. But when he touched her with his long, warm fingers, she caught fire and tried to match him touch for touch.
“Easy,” he whispered into her ear. “Let’s keep it slow and rhythmic. I want to make the kind of tender love to you that a man makes to a woman when he cherishes her to the depths of his soul. And it has to be the appropriate lovemaking to christen our precious unborn little girls' nursery.”
Angela felt a rush of tears. No wonder she loved him. And slow was good. Oh, so earth-shakingly good, she decided, as the sensations built like a crescendo and then exploded into a sky full of fiery shooting stars.
They lay together for a long time whispering and sharing dreams in their afterglow. After a while, as the glow faded, she lifted herself on her elbow and she told him of her less romantic plans. “I want you to hire someone to install a door from our room into here. And I’ve been reading about some cool security gadgets for children’s rooms. With the new equipment, no matter where I am in the house, I can flip on a monitor remote with video and view the whole room and hear even the slightest sounds.”
“We use a similar system at my office. I’ll get my security team to set it up for you.”
“I have lots of ideas you can help me with. And I’ll need your help painting and papering.”
“No painting while pregnant. I’ll hire someone to do that, too. You just tell me what you want and I’ll see to it,” he said.
“Terrific. That’s really sweet of you.” More strangers in the house, she thought, shuddering.
*****
Weeks later, when the projects were finished, she beamed. The painters had done an excellent job. The security was installed and she, her mom, and Damon had magically turned the room into a pink wonderland of twin baby furniture, soft, cuddly toys, and musical mobiles. She only had a few more things to buy.
The next day, coming down the escalator in a department store, she felt someone’s chilling gaze on her. She turned and saw Dudley right behind her, sneering. He thrust out an arm, feigning a push gesture. She tightened her grip on the banister and screamed at the top of her lungs.
Just as she hoped, everyone looked her way and Dudley disappeared.
When she returned home, she was afraid to tell Damon—afraid he’d follow through on his threat and kill the man. And then she’d lose her husband and her little girls’ daddy to jail.
The only one she told was Kat, and it seems Kat told her boyfriend, Deeto, who shared the information with his motorcycle buddies. Angela heard from Louise the bookkeeper that when Dudley left work the next night, a gang of men made hamburger out of his face. It was dark and he couldn’t identify his attackers, but he told the police and anyone else who’d listen that he strongly suspected the assault was led by Damon Lamont. While Dudley deserved the beating, Angela worried that he’d get revenge on her husband, who knew nothing of the attack. And since Dudley was basically a coward, she expected the payback to be sneaky.
After several days of fearing for Damon’s safety, she told him of the assault and warned him of Dudley’s belief that he was behind it. She left out the part about the escalator incident to keep Damon from going after the toad himself.
* * * *
As the time grew closer to give birth, it seemed her worries continued to pile up. But, somehow, with Damon’s constant assurances that everything would be fine, she forced aside her fears.
When she finally gave birth to her beautiful twin girls, she decided to give them strong warrior names, Victoria, the victorious, and Valerie, the valiant. Victoria, only minutes older, had wisps of shiny onyx hair, and Valerie had fuzz the color of lemons. Otherwise the girls were identical. Their beauty took her breath away. Both had heart-shaped faces, but somehow, Victoria seemed stronger, more dominant, and her cry more demanding. Tears welled in Angela’s eyes and love and hope mushroomed in her heart. Heavenly Father, let my babies be as perfect as they look, and swath them in your protective love.
It had taken a week for Angela to regain her strength after the grueling double birth. It was a good thing she’d quit her job. Caring for the girls took up most of her time and energy. In spite of her happiness, Madam Nola was constantly on her mind. Angela sighed. Every time she thought about contacting the unpredictable psychic, she remembered the mighty little medium had asked them to wait until the first full moon after the twins’ third birthday to ca
ll. Until then, she could only watch over her daughters and remain alert to even the slightest indication of any transformation or behaviors that might reveal that they were afflicted with the curse. She frowned. It was sheer agony to wait. She wanted things settled about her girls…wanted to know they were perfectly normal.
Finally, it was the first full moon after their third birthday and, with trembling hands, she dialed.
The phone rang a dozen times before the little psychic came on the line.
“Lovely to hear from you, Angela,” she said in a perky voice. “How is the family?”
Angela counted to ten. “That’s what we need you to tell us,” she said, unable to conceal her impatience. Then, without any preliminaries, she blurted out, “Please, we’d like your first available appointment.”
“Of course, my dear, would two tomorrow afternoon work for you?”
Her heart pounded. “Yes, yes, any time. We’ll be there.”
“Good. Be sure to bring your girls.”
Angela froze. “Is that necessary?”
“Absolutely.”
Angela wanted to protest, but if this was the only way to learn her twins’ fate, she’d have to bite the bullet and bring them along.
Later, when she told Damon about it, he immediately called the spiritualist. Apparently, Madam Nola convinced him that the need was crucial and promised to protect them from scary images.
When Angela and Damon went to bed, she couldn’t sleep. She was both frightened and excited. Damon, as always, offered to massage her back to relax her. His gaze darkened, but rather than danger, she saw only passion. His golden and glinting velvety-brown eyes, although no longer feral, still dazzled and devastated her. “Turn over,” he commanded.