“No, but I skimmed through some of your notes. Midsomer murders, huh?”
Charly almost blushed. She tended to write down every idea she got, just so she wouldn’t limit her thinking, but usually she was the only one who saw the rough cuts. “It was just a thought.” But that got them talking about TV and movies, and to her relief, the mood remained light. It turned out that they liked many of the same TV series and movies too, which actually upset her a bit. They were suited on so many levels yet nothing would come of it. Would she ever find a man as great as Raphael Green? Unlikely. So was she doomed to spend her life alone? Why couldn’t he understand that for her even the short life spent together would be better than spending it apart?
Once they got on the A24, it was an easy ride to the village of Betchworth, on the outskirts of which Rafe’s company had been buying land. It was a typical English country parish, so small that one barely noticed it before the settlement gave way to fields again, the houses built on both sides of the narrow road that ran through it following some medieval path. Slightly sleepy, it had all the trappings of a picturesque tourist attraction – a church with Saxon origins and thatched cottages – without the actual tourists in sight. Charly could actually understand why someone wouldn’t want rich commuters to move in.
Though not to the extent that she would have condoned the actions taken to prevent Rafe’s company from building here. “Let’s stop by the pub and ask around,” she suggested.
Rafe gave her an amused look. “Poke our muzzles in where they don’t belong?”
The reminder of the attack made her shiver, but she just nodded. “Yes. This is a small place. I bet everyone knows who it is who doesn’t want you here.”
“But in a small place like this, they’re not going to tell it to outsiders,” he pointed out, and she knew he was right.
“Especially if the entire village is working against you. We’ll just have to be cunning.”
The only pub was in the middle of the village, a genuine country place untouched by fashionable designers and their quest to make things look ‘authentic.’ It was a whitewashed brick building that most likely dated back centuries, with a slate-roof and a sign of a Bull hanging over the door that was definitely old. Inside, however, everything was genuine 1970s: practical, easy to maintain, and very ugly. Only the bar was old, a mahogany and brass monstrosity that ran the length of one side of the taproom. It was worn from use, but obviously well taken care of.
It wasn’t lunchtime yet, but since it was Saturday a few people were gathered there already, perhaps waiting for the only bus to the nearby town or something. Charly wasn’t exactly familiar with the country life.
Conversation halted when she and Rafe entered; everyone turned to stare at them. Charly had dressed in what she thought were practical clothes for a country sojourn: jeans, a classical Barbour wax jacket, and riding boots. Rafe’s clothing was similar, except he was wearing hiking boots, but he had actually used his clothes regularly and so looked like he belonged. She looked like what she was, a city dweller.
She didn’t mind the raised eyebrows and silent glances and just gave everyone a friendly smile. “Hello. I was wondering if someone could help me and my husband,” she chirped like some featherbrained socialite. “He’s very much into fly-fishing, you see, and we found this amazing creek when we were driving around. But now we can’t find anyone to ask if he can fish there.” She didn’t dare look at Rafe to see how he reacted to her new persona or his status as her husband. At least he wasn’t laughing aloud.
Silence met her question, but she was undeterred. During her pupillage in a barrister’s chamber, she had often fished for information under some assumed persona. She walked to the bar where a potbellied middle-aged man with a receding hairline was polishing glasses. She leaned against the bar and felt Rafe at her back, pressing lightly against her, lending credence to her claim that they were married. Or taking advantage of it, as he placed a kiss at her temple just then. It was very distracting and it took a moment for her to get back to her role.
She thought it was best to order something, and so they asked for half pints of lager. She didn’t actually like the taste of it, but it was all for the cause. She smiled again. “Perhaps you, as the landlord of this fine establishment, are the most knowledgeable about these things,” she flattered shamelessly. Behind her, Rafe snorted silently and she resisted an urge to elbow him.
The landlord frowned and Charly feared she would actually have to resort to batting her eyelashes. She wasn’t above using feminine wiles when necessary – as she had a couple of times in court, even – but she feared she was overacting as it was.
He harrumphed. “Yes, well, there’s a bit of confusion about the ownership of that creek. But there’s no fish in it anyway, so there’s no need to find the owner.”
There went that theory then.
Rafe felt her disappointment when her shoulders slumped, and he took over. “Oh, it’s not the fish, it’s the scenery and the atmosphere of the place,” he said affably. “Are you sure you couldn’t find out?” As he spoke, he handed a note to the landlord, presumably to pay for the drinks, but he made a small gesture to indicate that the man could keep the rest. Expensive lager, if she saw the denomination correctly.
The landlord took the money swiftly. “I think there’s someone who knows. But he won’t be here until in the afternoon. You should come back then.”
They thanked him, took their drinks to a table nearest to the window overlooking the road, and spent a few futile minutes trying to engage locals into a conversation. Apparently, the jolly old countryside didn’t exist anymore. Frustrated, they didn’t finish their drinks and left, telling the landlord they would definitely be back that afternoon after checking the creek again.
“That didn’t go well,” Charly sighed once they were back in the car. Bob hadn’t woken up the whole time they were away and was still in the car, even though they had left the back flap open for it. They contemplated taking it for a walk and engaging locals in conversation over its cuddly form, but they didn’t want to wake it up.
Rafe turned to smile at her, the amusement he had felt for her little act clear on his face. “I wouldn’t say that. There might actually be someone meeting us when we return. In the meanwhile, we might as well go to see the place ourselves.”
As they wove through narrow country lanes to their destination, Rafe told her about his clan. “Greenwood clan is the largest wolf clan and one of the most important shifter clans in the greater London area. Only a leopard clan in Greenwich is more important than us.”
Charly listened, fascinated. She visited the beautiful Greenwich often, but it had never occurred to her that shifters lived there. She was a typical human. Two-natureds simply weren’t something she even considered in her circles.
“There are smaller predatory clans in London that are influential too, but they tend to squabble with each other, which prevents them from rising to true greatness.”
The fight from the previous night rose vividly to her mind and she turned to look at him. “Is it always so violent among shifters?”
His face turned grim. “Surprisingly seldom. There are rules governing the interaction between individual shifters and clans that keep things civilised. No … yesterday was a hired hit.”
Charly felt queasy. “Because of my investigation?” She tried to remember who she had talked to, but they had all been nameless clerks.
He reached out a hand and squeezed her arm reassuringly. “No, it was for buying the land in the first place.”
“So there are shifters in that village who don’t want you there?” Until the night before, she had only considered human operators, but now a whole variety of possibilities was opening up for her investigation.
“That’s just it. There aren’t.” He sounded frustrated.
Charly mulled over this new information for a few moments. “Is it widely known that your company is owned by shifters?”
“W
hat do you mean?”
“Well, humans are, in general, prejudiced against your kind, but most of the time we simply ignore you. But with the debates going on in the Parliament, your existence has been brought to the fore again. Perhaps the villagers fear that there will be shifters moving into the new houses and they don’t want that.”
Rafe nodded. “That’s a very good possibility, and would explain the timing of the attack too. But would they hire shifters to do their dirty work if they dislike us so much?”
“Who else? Humans definitely wouldn’t be able to take you down.” Not without a weapon of some kind, anyway. The thought made shivers run down her spine.
Rafe acknowledged it with a smug grin. He pulled over by the road next to an old meadow that had been left to grow wild. They were in the middle of nowhere, the nearest farmhouses only small dots in the distance. They exited the car and released Bob, letting it run free, and it took a full advantage of the opportunity, disappearing into the long grass with happy barks.
They let themselves into the meadow through a broken gate, from which an overgrown footpath led towards a small crop of woods. The creek ran through the woods to a small lake a little farther away.
“We’ll be building four or five cottage-style houses on both sides of the creek,” Rafe explained as they went. “They’ll be large and expensive, with enough space around each house to provide privacy, and with great views over that lake.” He gestured towards the distant glimmer of water. “So far the farmers have cooperated nicely. They are old and haven’t had anyone to continue the farming. It’s the last piece of land, the one with the creek and the forest, that’s been troublesome.”
Charly had studied the maps, but it was much better seeing the real thing. “It’s beautiful here,” she sighed, taking in the undulating meadows around the small lake and the woods, spectacular in the red and gold colours of autumn.
“Yes, it is,” Rafe said, but when she turned to look at him, he wasn’t watching the scenery but her. Her heart missed a beat. Why did he look her like that if he didn’t want her?
She cleared her throat, suddenly hot all over despite the crisp October weather. “I’m guessing you’re in a great hurry to start building,” she said, stubbornly continuing with the topic. She wouldn’t give him anything of herself if he didn’t want everything.
He flashed his wolfish grin. “When you live long enough, you know you can afford to wait.”
She snorted. “You’re what, all of thirty-five to my thirty-two?”
“Try closer to a hundred and thirty-five.” Her stunned face made him laugh aloud in delight. “Surprise.”
Charly had known that the two-natureds were long-living, but it hadn’t even occurred to her that Rafe might be so old. Meeting someone who had actually lived through the previous century felt incredible. The history he had experienced, the changes he had witnessed. The women he had been with….
A surge of jealousy coursed through her and she decided it was best not to think about his past at all. Then another thought hit her, self-evident now that she had been made to expand her horizons. “I wonder if the owner of the land is still alive.”
Chapter Fifteen
“What do you mean?” Rafe studied his beautiful woman, mesmerised. Her dark eyes were shining in excitement with the insight she had just had. He tried to summon back some of the indignant anger he had felt the night before that had allowed him to walk away from her, but it was all gone. She wasn’t in this only to use him; she was genuinely interested in him. And what was more, she still seemed to be interested in more than just sex.
Too bad that was all he had to offer her.
Her wonderful black hair was pulled back into a ponytail today, but a few wisps had escaped, framing her face perfectly. He didn’t even try to resist the temptation; he reached out and pushed a lock behind her ear.
A faint blush crept onto her face, which he found adorable. He could smell her arousal building and his body responded immediately. “Stop distracting me,” she protested weakly when he took a step closer.
“You find me distracting?” He leaned in so that his lips almost touched hers, and when she didn’t pull back, he took it as an invitation to kiss her.
Without the adrenaline rush he’d felt before their previous kisses, he could savour her taste better and study the feel of her as he pulled her against him. Tall as she was, their bodies touched all the way, and he didn’t have to lift her to properly kiss her.
He did it anyway. Placing his hands under her buttocks, he pulled her hips firmly against his. The sweet pain of her body pressing against his erection made him deepen the kiss until they were both out of breath. He needed to have her, right now.
Rafe was trying to decide where he would take her, in the car or outside in the cool October air, when a shot rang out, the sound reverberating loudly in the silence of the meadows. He jumped from an aroused stupor to action so fast that Charly didn’t have time to react before he had pushed her under him, hiding them both in the long grass. He released his aura and his wolf stretched out of his back to scent the air above them. Another shot whirled past where they had stood only a second before.
“What are you doing,” Charly protested, trying to push him off her.
“Shh. Someone is shooting at us.” She froze underneath him and he could smell her fear, the arousal gone. He dug into his pocket for the car keys. “Take these and crawl back to the car. And this time, stay there.” It was a command, but he let her see the worry in his eyes and she nodded and took the keys.
He waited only to see her halfway up the path, briefly distracted by the shape of her butt as she advanced on her belly, then he shed his clothes as fast as he could in the awkward crouched position. Naked, he turned to look at her once again and saw that she had paused to watch him. He could have urged her on, but he knew she wanted to see this and so he let her.
The shift was fast, urgency and the nearness of the full moon speeding up the process. His wolf aura grew to its full size, something she couldn’t see, covering his body and then growing beyond its limits. Then the image simply filled from the inside outwards, the wolf in him coming out. It hurt, but not much, as his human half took the backseat at the same time, hiding within the wolf.
In a matter of moments, the wolf was standing on the footpath. They shook themselves to adjust their fur and then they shot a glance at their female. They didn’t like how she hadn’t moved so they snarled to make her know she should go. She nodded, not looking as frightened as they had thought she would, which pleased them. Then they turned around to head towards the direction they had smelled the attack coming from, staying low in the long grass.
They smelled dog and turned to look at the black canine following them, crawling too. They growled and the dog paused, but when they moved on, it followed again. Telepathy didn’t work between shifters and natural animals, but there were other ways to communicate. It took some effort to make Bob understand them, but finally it turned around and headed after Charly, eager to fulfil the command it had been given: protect her.
It took them a while to reach the place from where the shots had come from, but the human was already gone. There were footprints and a good scent trail to follow, but the wolf and the man agreed. They had to return to protect their female. The shooter might be heading to her already.
Ten minutes later, Rafe was back in human form and clothed. He made a quick call to Jamie, who promised to send Kieran, their best tracker, to study the place. Then he returned to the car, walking low just in case the shooter still had them in his sights.
Charly was crouching on the front seat with Bob, her arms wrapped around it to press it low too, looking frightened. She smiled, relieved, when she saw him and would have gotten out of the car if he hadn’t indicated that she should stay put. He moved Bob to the back before getting in the car, where he was instantly pulled into a tight embrace. He revelled in it for a moment. She definitely cared for him. “I was worried,” Charly
explained unnecessarily.
He gave her a quick kiss, not wanting to risk anything more thorough before he got her to safety. Starting the car, he told her what he had found. “It was a human, so there’s a good chance it was the man we’re looking for.” It wasn’t anyone from the pub, which was what he had suspected, but someone there had probably directed the shooter after them. Had they guessed who he was, or were they that hostile towards everyone asking about the creek?
She looked shaken still, so he searched his mind for something with which to distract her that didn’t involve kissing her. If the previous rushes of lust were anything to go by, they would end up naked even before he had the car pulled over.
“So what revelation did you have before I became all distracting?”
It took her a moment to remember what they had been talking about, but then she smiled the same satisfied smile. “The person behind this was able to fake his ownership of the land because there are no recorded owners for it after 1783, when it was sold. There was no mention of it being sold or inherited since then, no matter how close I looked. But it occurred to me that there wouldn’t be if the same person owned the land still. So methinks it is a shifter.”
Rafe smiled too, more because she was looking so happy. “Of course. Although, it can’t be a shifter, because we would know about it. But it does confirm that humans are behind this. They would have tried to find the owner and made the same conclusion than you did when they couldn’t find any mention of them after the last sale. It would never occur to humans that the same person would still own it. So who was it that bought the land back then?”
“Someone called Alexander Hamilton.”
Rafe burst out laughing. “Foley. Bloody vampires. I should have known.”
Chapter Sixteen
Charly’s learning curve about the two-natured people clearly hadn’t peaked yet. “Vampires?”
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