by Lynde Lakes
“An Indian biker. My daughter can sure pick ‘em.”
Rick felt Lamont sizing him up. He knew standing there, bare-chested, in biker boots with a diamond stud in his earlobe, he looked like every father’s worst nightmare.
“How old are you, Rick?”
“Twenty, sir.”
“My daughter is only sixteen.”
Rick felt heat crawl up his neck. “I didn’t ask her age. When a nude woman is in distress on a dark mountain road, my only goal is to get her home safely.”
“You didn’t touch her, did you?” Lamont’s words sounded more like a threat than a question.
“No, sir. She told me if I even thought of trying anything, my Road King would end up in a heap at the bottom of one of the ravines. Your daughter is one a tough cookie.” Rick fought the admiration in voice.
Lamont almost smiled. “So tell me your side of what happened?”
“Not much to tell. Your daughter was nude and vulnerable in the bushes and I brought her home. I think someone might have been chasing her. She was in a hurry to get out of there.”
A red-headed carrot-top with spiky hair and pale, water-blue eyes slipped out of the mansion like a phantom and handed Rick his shirt and jacket.
Lamont introduced the man as his houseman and friend, Kyle Cooper. He shook Cooper’s icy hand, thanked him, and then Cooper slipped away, silent as a ghost, and disappeared into the house. Rick had heard that everyone who lived or worked at this place was odd. He was beginning to believe the rumors.
“Are you in school, Rick?” Lamont asked.
“SBVC. Night classes.”
“Employed?”
“I’m head security officer at Mt. Baldy Resorts.” Rick felt his body stiffening at the barrage of questions.
Lamont’s eyes widened. “You’re in security? And part Indian?” Rick could see the wheels turning in Lamont’s head. “Any tracking experience?”
“I was raised in the desert near an Indian reservation. My Uncle, Indian Joe, taught me a lot about tracking. And my brother Al has a detective agency in Palm Springs. I helped him out during the summers when I was in high school.”
“Intriguing background. Maybe we can do some business. I have a missing daughter. I’ll pay you five hundred dollars if you find her tonight. She might be on the same road where you found Victoria, or wandering the hills at the foot of Mt. Baldy.”
“I’d be glad to help, sir, but as a fellow human being, not a paid tracker. What does she look like?”
Lamont pulled out his wallet and handed him a photo. “She’s Victoria’s identical twin. The only difference between the girls is Valerie is blonde, a little quieter, and more vulnerable.”
Rick handed the picture back, headed for his Harley, and called over his shoulder, “I’ll cruise the Baldy highway and adjacent area. If I don’t find her along the road, I’ll head into the hills. This Harley can go almost anywhere. And my boots can go where it can’t. If she’s out there, I’ll find her.
* * * *
Valerie awoke to a blaze of dawn next to her hairy captor who was writhing in the throws of morphing. Good God, she’d been captured by a werewolf! Her urge to run was thwarted by her own debilitating act of morphing. Last night, she’d lost her bearings and wasn’t sure where they’d ended up. Now they were in a circle of boulders under the shadow of the daunting Mt. Baldy. She knew the area. It was dotted with a camouflage of low, concealing brush and a scattering of rocky caves—a perfect refuge for wolves—and throat-ripping werewolves. Why hadn’t he forced her into one of the caves and attacked her?
For what had seemed like hours, the dominant black wolf paced in front of her, imprisoning her. Her growls of displeasure hadn’t fazed him. Finally, exhausted, she’d lain down and watched him pace back and forth until her eyes grew heavy. Maybe if she feigned sleep, he’d get sleepy, too, and then she could escape.
Instead, she’d slept through the night. Not good. The gigantic wolf’s morphing process was faster than hers. Holy cow, if he gained control of his mind and body before she did, he’d gain the upper hand again.
The black hair evaporated from his face and body. He managed to cover his nudity with leafy limbs from the underbrush. It was then she realized she was nude, too. With effort, she managed to crawl to a bush. She used her girl scout training to strip limbs and twist leaves around it. The process was time-consuming so she just covered her breasts and pubic area. Her creation looked like Eve’s first leafy whack at bikini fashion. The prickly foliage itched, but that was preferable to remaining exposed. She didn’t want to give this werewolf any ideas.
When she looked at him again, her mouth dropped open. It was the construction boss—her dad’s friend—the man she called Uncle Hugh—the gentle man who’d watched over her and her sister for years. “Uncle Hugh!”
“Don’t be afraid, Valerie. I’m here to protect you and help you get home safely.”
* * * *
Rick cruised the road to Mt. Baldy until daylight, then he headed his bike into the rough hills. He drove slowly, searching for tracks. He found a set of small prints that led to the road where he’d picked up Victoria, followed by bigger and heavier prints. The heavy prints proceeded to the road and then circled back into the hills. As he continued into the rough, hilly terrain, around boulders and prickly brush, he failed to find a second set of female prints. Fine tracker he was. He couldn’t even find the missing girl’s tracks.
When he discovered three sets of wolf prints, one set belonging to a very large wolf, his neck prickled. A pack of wolves was a bad sign with a young woman roaming the hills lost and perhaps injured or disoriented. Maybe he was worrying about nothing. Shoot, maybe by now Lamont’s search party had found the wayward teen.
He was about to turn around when he spied a young blonde girl who looked identical to Victoria and a man about Lamont’s age coming down a path wearing nothing but leafy bikinis over their privates. Who was the older guy and why was he tromping around in the bushes with the girl who clearly had to be Valerie?
“Hey you, what the hell are you doing with Lamont’s daughter?”
“It’s okay,” Valerie said, “he’s my Uncle Hugh. He kept me safe all night.”
Rick wasn’t convinced. He eased his bike closer. “Why are you both naked?”
“Look, young man,” Hugh said. “We don’t know you and don’t owe you any explanations.”
Rick took off his jacket and shirt and handed them to Valerie. “Put these on and get on my bike. Your dad sent me to bring you home.”
“I won’t turn my niece over to some earring-wearing, half-baked biker.”
Rick flashed his Mt. Baldy security badge. “This should convince you that I’m not one of those hunters.” He didn’t know why the Lamont girls were afraid of the hunters, but the story he saw in the prints and Victoria’s eagerness to escape the area told him they were. He turned his attention back to Valerie and said, “Valerie, your parents have had search parties out all night. They’re worried sick. Now get on.”
“His badge looks legit,” she said, “and it sounds like something Dad would do. I’d better go.”
As she climbed on behind him, he called over his shoulder. “Hang loose, sir, and I’ll be back to get you as soon as I can. And I’ll bring some clothes.” He didn’t want a nearly nude man hugging his waist. But having a second nude twin hugging his waist within eight hours was a memory he’d smile about for years.
* * * *
Rick decided it would take more time to return to the road than to head in a somewhat direct line toward the mansion with its imposing towers. He might luck out and meet Lamont’s search party—and the sooner he eased Lamont’s mind, the better. He rode slowly through the bumpy terrain, cursing silently as the bushes scratched his once shiny Harley and protruding rocks chewed at his tires. When they were halfway to the Lamont place, he met the unnerved daddy and his search party.
“You found her,” Lamont said in a choked voice. “Thank God
.” He handed Valerie some clothes. “Go behind that boulder and put these on.” He met Rick’s gaze. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“I didn’t really do much. She was already under her uncle’s protective care and heading home.”
Lamont frowned. “Uncle?”
“Your daughter called him Uncle Hugh.”
“Oh, him. He’s not really related, but the girls love him and he adores them like they were his own.”
“Well, sir, I think maybe you should know that they were both naked.”
Lamont’s eyes widened. “What?”
Valerie came around the boulder at that moment and said, “Dad, I can explain that—in private. Trust me. It’s all good, I swear.”
“I don’t know how it could be,” Damon said. “But because I do trust you, I’ll wait until I have the whole story to tear Hugh limb from limb. And it better be damned good.”
Valerie handed Rick his shirt and jacket. “Thanks, Mr. Trouble Maker.”
Rick fought his traitorous feelings and told Lamont, “I’ll go back and get Hugh and you can all sort this out.” He believed even more firmly that the Lamonts and their staff and friends were a bunch of weird ducks.
“Fine,” Lamont said. “Afterwards, I want to have a little talk with you.”
“Sir, I was up all night looking for your daughter and my shift at the resort starts in about twenty minutes. Soon as I get Hugh, I have to check in for work. I’ll be late as it is, but they’ll understand when I tell them that I was helping to rescue your daughter. I can catch an hour or two of shut-eye at the end of my shift and drop by after.”
“It’s a deal,” Lamont said, squeezing his shoulder. “And thanks again.”
* * * *
Hugo, now Hugh, blinked in surprise when he saw the biker returning. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go back and face Damon and his questions. But it would be cowardly not to—and he was no coward.
“Thanks for coming back,” Hugh said. “Did you bring clothes?”
“There weren’t any available. I met the search party on the way up here. You’ll have to be satisfied with my jacket.” He tossed it to him. “Climb on.”
The ride was short and Hugh thanked the young biker and decided to enter through the hidden access in the tunnels he’d retained for his use alone. He came out in his room. He wondered if Damon would revoke his generosity when he found out the truth. He pulled on some clothes and went in search of his half-brother and found him in the den.
Damon looked up when he entered the room. “Valerie told me,” he said. “That she saw you morph from a werewolf and that you saved her. What’s the rest of the story?”
Hugh scanned the room for micro bugs and, finding none, said, “It’s true, I’m your half-brother Hugo.”
Doubt flickered and died in Damon’s eyes. “That’s why I felt so close to you and brought you into my home. From the first, I felt like you belonged here. How the hell did all this come about? I saw your throat ripped out—and I buried you.”
Hugh told him his story of resurrection, watching for signs of doubt. “Afterwards, I had to work my way into your confidence. I counted on the fact that you trust people until they disappoint you. Have I disappointed you by not being forthright, my brother?”
“Yes and no. But when you saved Valerie, it made up for your lack of faith in me.”
“My lack of faith in you?” Hugh was confused. “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t trust me to believe you. But, I can forgive that because I might not have years ago. But since you moved in here and became the girls’ surrogate uncle, I felt your love for them and now I understand why I wanted you to be part of our family. You are their uncle in every sense of the word.”
When Damon got up and hugged him, Hugh felt like he was home at last.
With choked voices, they then discussed the dangers facing the family and possible solutions.
“I don’t trust your scientists,” Hugh said. “Especially that Dr. Lazar. But I’m willing to give my blood to help the girls, but no one must know it came from me. You’ll have to be the one to extract it. And to do it while I’m morphed could be dangerous, even deadly.”
“Danger means nothing to me when it comes to my girls’ well-being. However, let me do some investigating before we do anything rash. And I need time to break all of this to Angela.”
* * * *
Later that afternoon while Angela and the girls were picking up books at the library, Damon heard Rick’s motorcycle roar up the driveway. Eager to talk with him again, he rushed out to meet him and escorted him into the den. He wanted to get their little talk over before the girls returned.
“Rested up, Rick?” he asked, ignoring the tension and mixed feelings jetting through his psyche.
“Yes, sir. Everything’s back to normal.”
Damon gestured to a chair and watched Rick sit down, his posture erect. Damon sat on the edge of his desk and leveled his gaze slightly downward and met Rick’s intense look.
“Maybe things are back to normal and maybe they’re not,” Damon said, playing his cat and mouse game. “I’ve done some checking on you.”
Anger flared in Rick’s eyes. “Why would you do that, sir? I’m sure your girls told you I treated them with respect.”
“Right. But I like to know more about the man I’m thinking of hiring.”
Rick snorted and shook his head. “Hiring? Excuse me, sir, but I don’t recall filling out an application. I’m pretty content with my present job.”
Damon intensified his gaze. “Oh? Did I read you wrong? I got the impression you were a trustworthy, capable man on the first rung of the ladder, intent on equipping yourself for much more.”
Rick shook his head again, as though he couldn’t believe the conversation they were having. “When you put it that way, sir, maybe I should hear you out. What do you have in mind?”
“That’s the problem. You have to accept the job and swear to secrecy without knowing the details up front other than that your salary would be a hundred thousand a year to start. In advance.”
Rick wrinkled his brow. “I won’t do anything illegal.”
“If I thought you would, I wouldn’t hire you.”
“As crazy as your offer is, you’ve peaked my interest. When would the job start and when do I get to know what it entails?”
“Here is how it would go down. You’d sign a legal binding contract to never reveal anything I’m about to tell you and accept the job on faith.”
“I’d be crazy to sign a contract like that—and maybe you’re a little nutty to expect me to.”
“What if I told you it’s a bodyguard job? Would that appeal to you?”
“Keep talking.”
“If you do the job well, at the end of the year you’ll become a partner in The Lamont-Tanner Protection Agency. This specialized position requires that you live in my home. I want you to guard my girls without their knowing exactly what you’re doing. All they’ll know is you are my new security advisor, hired to protect our family. You’ll become like one of the family, meeting their friends, watching for enemies.”
“What about when the girls split up like last night? I can’t cut myself in half.”
“I’ll hire Hugh to help. Perhaps later, if the business warrants it, you can bring an assistant on board.”
“What’s the catch?”
“No matter what, you must forever preserve all of our family secrets.”
Rick shifted in his chair. “Sir, perhaps it’s the secrets I should be concerned with.”
“Absolutely. Because they’re secrets you’ll have to carry to the grave.”
“Sir, let’s clarify this. Are you suggesting that once you tell them to me, you’ll have to kill me?”
Damon swallowed a laugh. “No, my statement was not meant as a threat. I just need your irrevocable promise, honorable man to honorable man, that you won’t ever reveal any family secrets.”
“So, I’ll be like an at
torney who can’t reveal his client’s secrets.”
“Exactly.”
“Can I think this over and get back to you tomorrow?”
“No. I need an answer now.”
Rick inhaled. “So, in essence, I’ll be a bodyguard who keeps family secrets, and for that you’re willing to give one hundred thousand in advance for the year. And if I produce results, you’ll make me a partner in your new company?”
“Exactly.”
“Oh, hell. I’m not a risk taker, but this sounds too intriguing and too good to pass up.” He stuck out his hand. “You’ve just hired yourself a closed-mouthed bodyguard.”
“Just one other thing,” Damon said. “No monkey business with my girls.”
As they shook hands on it, Damon knew they both were going forward with trepidation and blind faith. Now came the hard part, telling Rick about the Lupine heritage and the family curse so he wouldn’t flip out when the girls started morphing.
“Our family is unique,” Damon said. “Do you believe in werewolves, Rick?”
“No, sir. But I’ve heard of the lycanthropy studies going on here in your lab and that you’re catching wolves and testing them.”
“That’s right. Lycanthropy is an affliction suffered by werewolves and our scientists are searching for a cure. Do you believe in curses?”
“No, sir. I’m pretty grounded in this world, not in the world of witchcraft, werewolves, and vampires.”
“I must warn you, my doubting friend, you’re going to see things while employed here that’ll test your beliefs—and your honor. Are you up to that?”
“For the deal you offered me, I think I can learn to live with your secrets, whatever they are. But like I said before, just don’t ever ask me to do anything dishonest. With that, I draw the line.”
“The best way to explain our secret is to show you. Be here tonight just before moonrise.”
* * * *
Damon checked on the girls then located Angela pacing in front of the fireplace in the master bedroom. He had so much to tell her he didn’t know where to start. He drew her into his arms. “I have a bombshell to drop on you about Hugh.”