around while her aunt assumed she was
napping. She would start by talking with
the servants, because of all the people at
the manor, no one knew more about what
was going on than they did. She hoped she
could trust them enough to keep her aunt
from guessing she knew about her
superfluous expenditure of Maralee’s
inheritance.
Maralee opened the door and checked
to make sure the corridor was empty.
Upon finding it vacant, she took the
servant’s stairs down to the kitchen. She
peeked into the kitchen and found the cook
and his helper working on their evening
meal. She knew the cook, his name was
Jean Bastille and he had become their
cook soon after the Decatur family
massacre. The younger man, who seemed
to be an apprentice of sorts, was not
familiar to Maralee. She paused in the
stairway to listen to their conversation
unobserved.
“…has been gone for over six years.
I’m sure things would have turned out
differently if she’d been around,” Jean
was telling the younger man.
“It is probably too late for her to
recover any of her wealth now, don’t you
think?” the younger man said.
“Watch what you’re doing, David.
Your heat is too high,” Jean chastised him.
After David had corrected his error, Jean
continued. “I doubt she even realizes what
her aunt has done. I don’t want to be the
one to tell her.”
“Well, I’m not going to tell her. I’ve
never even seen her before,” David said.
“Does she really travel around killing
those gigantic Wolves?”
“She does.”
“She must be some burly, hairy woman
with forearms like hams and nerves of
steel.”
Maralee was unable to stifle a giggle.
Jean heard her and came to investigate.
“Ah, here is our burly, hairy mistress
with forearms like hams,” the cook said,
smiling down at her as she sat perched on
the second stair.
“How are you, Jean?” Maralee asked.
“Forearms like hams?” She glanced down
at her arms appraisingly. “Surely I’m not
that burly.”
Jean chuckled and tugged her to her
feet so he could give her a proper hug.
“Now just how long have you been
eavesdropping?”
“Long enough,” Maralee said.
“Oh,” he said. “Well, then let me
introduce you to my chef in training,
David Caraway.”
David flushed. He was just beginning
to show the signs of manhood. Maralee
guessed his age to be fourteen or fifteen.
His dark brown hair was long but tied
back in a neat ponytail at the nape of his
neck. Maralee couldn’t determine the
color of his eyes because he couldn’t
seem
to
meet
her
gaze
out
of
embarrassment. She suspected the flush
staining his cheeks had very little to do
with the heat in the kitchen.
“Hello, David. I’m Maralee Decatur.
It’s nice to see Jean has someone new to
torture.”
“Bah!” Jean said in pretense anger.
“Don’t tell him that. I wanted him to think
he was special.”
“Hello,
Miss
Decatur,”
David
murmured.
“Do you still think I’m burly and
hairy?”
Maralee
asked
him
good-
naturedly.
David shook his head vigorously. “I’m
sorry, ma’am. I should never have
speculated such a thing.”
“Don’t worry David, Maralee won’t
send the Wolves after you,” Jean said,
pounding his apprentice on the back. “She
isn’t like her aunt at all.”
Maralee grabbed Jean by the arm and
spoke to him in her most serious tone. “I
need to know everything that is going on
around here,” she said in a low voice. “I
already know Aunt Bailey has cleaned out
my bank account and has amassed a large
debt in my name, but I don’t think that’s
even half of what’s been happening in my
absence.”
Jean looked grimmer than she had ever
seen him. “She entertains these two men
on occasion,” Jean said. “They have some
connection with the local man-eating
Wolves. You know the sort I’m talking
about. The variety you hunt.”
Maralee nodded. “These men, do they
have gold-colored eyes?”
Jean looked surprised. “How did you
know?”
“Lucky guess,” she said absently. So,
her aunt was actually in league with
Wolves in their human forms. She
wondered if Aunt Bailey realized the true
nature of her associates. “What sort of
things do they discuss?”
Jean glanced over his shoulder to
make sure no one had entered the room. “It
depends,” he whispered. “Trayburn says
she usually gives them a list. He says the
only things written on the list are names.”
“Names?”
“The names on the list turn up dead
without fail. David’s parents were both on
that list.”
David nodded slightly. “They were
killed by Wolves over a year ago.”
Maralee’s
brow
knotted
with
confusion. “I don’t understand why the
Wolves would do Aunt Bailey’s bidding
in the first place,” she murmured. “Is she
paying them or something?”
Jean shrugged. “I don’t know, but
everyone knows she controls them animals
somehow. Everyone is too afraid to do
anything to stop her. Any who have tried
have been listed.”
“You know how to kill the Wolves
though, don’t you Miss Decatur?” David
asked hopefully.
“Yes,” she said guardedly. “I know
how to kill them, but I’m not a Hunter
anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Jean asked
loudly. “You’ve always followed the
ways of the Decaturs. Why would you
stop now, when we need you most?”
“Shh,” Maralee warned, glancing
around the room to make sure no one had
ventured in while they had been talking.
“I’ll think of something,” she promised,
“but I don’t plan on killing anyone.
Besides, I lost my sword.”
“You make it sound like Wolves are
people,” David said, scowling angrily.
“They deserve to die. Every last one of
them. If you tell me the secret to killing
them, I’ll gladly take care of this prob
lem
myself.”
Maralee shook her head. “It’s a
guarded secret. Everyone knows that. The
next time the two men come to meet with
Aunt Bailey, make sure I am informed.”
“What do you plan to do, Maralee?”
Jean asked, glancing around nervously.
“I’m not sure yet,” she admitted, “but
things are going to change around here. I
guarantee it.”
“Don’t
get yourself killed,” Jean
demanded, taking her by both arms and
fixing her gaze with an intent stare.
“You’re the last of the Decaturs and
without you we don’t stand a chance
against the Wolves.”
“We would if she’d just tell us the
secret,” David mumbled irritably.
“Don’t you talk that way to the young
miss,” Jean demanded, releasing Maralee
and threatening David with both balled-up
fists.
“Will the two of you just stop it?”
Maralee spat. “I said I would do
something and I will. You know I never
back down, Jean.”
Jean nodded curtly. David still looked
unconvinced.
“I’m going out for a while,” Maralee
said. “I should be back in time for
dinner.”
Jean smiled. “You can expect the meal
to be spectacular in any case. I’m not so
sure about the company.”
Maralee smiled and let herself out the
back door. She went to the stables and
found Billy had already come back from
returning the horse.
“Miss Decatur,” he greeted gleefully.
“Do you desire a ride before dinner?”
“Yes,” she said, feeling a bit
embarrassed by his obvious delight in
seeing her.
“Would you like some company?” he
asked, moving to the nearest stall to start
putting tack on one of the horses.
“Well…” she murmured. She didn’t
want to give him the wrong idea, but knew
he would be useful in showing her around
the countryside. She wasn’t sure if the
same families occupied the smaller family
homes that peppered the vast estate.
“Sure,” she agreed.
“Great! I’ll take you through the
woods. There’s this spectacular waterfall
few people know about. I’d like to show it
to you.”
“Actually,” she said, feeling somewhat
guilty for bursting his bubble of happiness.
“I was going to go talk to some of the
sharecroppers and their families. I want to
hear what has been going on since I left
from them directly.”
“Oh,” he said glumly, and then
brightened seconds later. “I can introduce
you to everyone.”
“Thanks, Billy,” she said, offering him
an appreciative smile.
He flushed. “Would you mind not
calling me Billy?” he asked her. “No one
calls me that anymore. It’s William.”
She laughed, feeling more at ease with
this jovial young man. “I’ll try to
remember.”
“This
is Becca,” he told her,
introducing her to the sleek bay filly as he
handed over the reins. “She’s only two,
but she’s really gentle and easy to handle.
I picked her out for you, even though I
wasn’t sure you’d ever ride her.” He bit
his lip. “I’ll hurry and get my horse.”
Within minutes, the pair of them were
mounted and headed west to the closest
house. Its roof was just visible over the
shallow slope in the distance.
CHAPTER 45
“What do you mean, she’s gone?” Nash
shouted at his calm mother.
“She left the day before yesterday. Just
as soon as you went searching for
Carsha.”
Nash couldn’t believe what she was
saying. “But why would she leave?” he
questioned, not really expecting an
answer.
“Because she finally realized the two
of you are too different to be together. She
told me to tell you that you were right not
to believe.”
Nash’s heart twisted with anguish.
“How could she say that after…after…”
“After what?”
He wasn’t about to tell his mother that
he had accepted himself as a half human.
He could only imagine how she would
react.
“Nothing,” he murmured. “I think I
need to be alone now.”
“Of course,” Stacia agreed, hiding a
smile. Sure her son was broken hearted
now, but when he gave up on that
worthless human woman and took Rella as
his mate, everything would turn out for the
best. She just knew that it would. She was
eternally grateful that Rella had agreed
with her plan. It had been a bit ruthless to
use Nash’s protective feelings for Carsha
as bait, but sometimes a mother had to be
ruthless to ensure the family stayed
together. And now the rest was up to
Rella. Stacia knew she would do her part.
“I’m going after her,” he said.
Stacia forced herself not to express
her anger. “If that’s what you feel you
must do, Nash, but wait until morning at
least. You must be exhausted from your
search for Carsha.”
“We were lucky she made it home on
her own without getting hurt,” he said,
sitting down on his sofa wearily. He knew
he wasn’t thinking straight. He’d gone
without sleep for over forty-eight hours.
Stacia felt marginally guilty for
sending Nash on a wild goose chase when
Carsha had been safe at home the entire
time. But she wouldn’t change the
outcome. That human whore was finally
out of her son’s life forever.
“Carsha’s lucky to have a caring father
like you to look after her,” Stacia said,
patting his shoulder.
Nash looked up at her in disbelief.
“Uncle, not father.”
“Well, you’re like her father now,
aren’t you? She depends on you and so do
the twins.”
“Stop confusing things, mother,” he
demanded angrily. He was tired of her
stupid head games. He was well aware of
Cort’s loss without her constantly
reminding him. He was likewise aware
Maralee had killed Cort. He was even
aware the sword he recovered from the
human village was the weapon that had
done the deed. None of those things
changed how he felt about Maralee. He
doubted anything ever would.
“Get some sleep, Nash,” she said
gently, pulling a blanket over him so he
would lie down on the overstuffed sofa.
“Things might seem clearer in the
morning.”
He was too weary to travel any further
<
br /> tonight. An unfortunate fact. He promised
himself he would wake up early and start
his search for Maralee. He hoped she had
only traveled as far as Sarbough, but he
knew she could be anywhere. He wasn’t
giving up on her though, and if she really
had given up on him then she should at
least have the decency to tell him to his
face. The image of her staring up at him
with love in her eyes as they shared their
bodies only two nights before was still in
his mind when he settled into sleep.
Several hours later, she returned to
him, curling her warm nude body up
against him on the sofa. She didn’t offer
him a reason for her sudden return, only an
apology in her tender caress. Her touch
was teasing and intoxicating. He didn’t
dare open his eyes for fear that he was
dreaming her unexpected return. When he
began to tremble from wanting her, he
shifted her beneath him and settled
between her thighs, kissing her throat, her
softly pointed chin, her firm lips.
It was in that hazy moment that reality
caught up with him. Maralee’s lips were
soft and yielding and she smelled like the
fragrance in her shampoo. The woman
beneath him was not Maralee. He tore his
mouth away from the woman and looked
down at her, shocked to see Rella staring
up at him with passion glazed, amber
eyes.
“Don’t stop, Nash,” she pleaded
softly. “You don’t know how long I’ve
waited for this.”
“Rella?”
“I know you want me,” she purred
arching her back so that her bare belly
brushed against his. “Make me yours,
Nash. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
He moved away from her as if she was
infected with some horribly contagious
disease. “What do you think you’re
doing?”
She giggled. “Seducing you, silly.
What does it look like I’m doing? I know
once we’ve been together you’ll have to
admit you love me.”
Her words shocked him to his very
core. “But I love Maralee,” he said. “And
you. You love Cort.”
She sighed heavily. “Maybe I did at
first,” she agreed, “but the more I got to
know you, the more I realized that you
were the real catch, Nash. Your human
side is really sexy, you know. You’re
smart, strong and caring, quiet and
understanding. Cort was always so busy
trying to get attention for himself that he
never bothered to ensure my happiness.
Stacia thinks I’m here to keep the family
together, but I’m really here because I
Defying Destiny Page 39