How The Wolf Lost Her Heart

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How The Wolf Lost Her Heart Page 12

by Sarah Brownlee


  The chauffeur drove the limo up the hill and outside the huge black gates, speaking softly into the security speaker and then driving through as the gates opened. The limousine came to a stop outside the four pillars and the driver stepped out, opening the door for Skye, who could not deny the absolute excitement that was fizzing within her. She followed the chauffeur up the steps and he rang the bell.

  A tall butler opened the door.

  “Skye Archer, a friend of Master Raphael,” bowed the chauffeur.

  “Indeed,” said the butler with an incomprehensible look and glancing at Skye, who looked thoroughly nervous. “This way please, Madam.”

  He gestured Skye to follow him.

  How to describe the inside of the House of Renzo? Amazing, thought Skye. Classic paintings in rows upon the walls, an enchanting ceiling of painted winged angels and cherubs, bronze doors to the left and right, velvet carpets, and various statues of animals, tigers in particular. She had never felt more out of place.

  One painting really made her stop and stare and she couldn’t help questioning the butler on who it was as they passed it and made their way up the spiral staircase.

  “Lord Janus Renzo,” replied the butler as they both paused to gaze at the portrait. “On whom the Renzo Empire was built.”

  As Skye stared at the enormous portrait of the remarkably handsome man with bright green eyes and a rather serious expression, the man who so resembled Raphael, she knew this was the same man that had been with her ancestor in the photograph that she found in the attic.

  They came to a stop outside a door with a tiger’s face carved into the wood. The butler knocked on it and cleared his throat.

  “Master Raphael,” he said loudly. “Ms Skye Archer is here to see you.”

  The door swung open and Raphael appeared. The feeling that was now familiar to Skye whenever she thought of him, that swooping, fuzzy feeling in the pit of her stomach, expanded wildly inside her as she looked into his face and found herself mesmerized by his sheer beauty. It didn’t help that the effects of the alcohol had still not completely subsided. His penetrating green eyes stared into hers and, though he looked a little more tired and strained than when she last saw him, he smiled when he saw her.

  “Thanks Forbes,” said Raphael. The butler bowed and made his way back down the hall.

  “Er … so how you feeling?” said Raphael, scrutinizing her up and down.

  Skye, who felt nervous, flustered and still slightly tipsy, tried her best to appear cool and contained.

  “Very well, thank you,” she replied with a confident air.

  There seemed to be an amused glint somewhere in the back of those green eyes.

  “Would you like to come in?” said Raphael, opening his door wider, revealing a large room which contained various colourful posters plastered on the walls, two comfy pouffes, a keyboard, a closed bronze door to the right and the largest four poster bed she had ever seen in her life.

  “This is your bedroom?” she said as she stepped inside, half wondering for the umpteenth time what on earth she was doing here and what her mother would say if she knew she was with a man in his bedroom – even if was Raphael Renzo.

  “Yeah … colourful, right? And don’t worry – I’m a perfect gentleman. Nothing to be afraid of here.”

  “Well, that’s good, considering how I’m not afraid in the slightest.”

  Raphael grinned.

  “Sit down,” he said, gesturing to one of the chocolate-coloured pouffes. Skye obliged and sat on it, practically sinking into floor in a rather ungraceful manner. Raphael sat on the other pouffe opposite with somewhat more elegance.

  “I like your outfit,” he said, giving her an appraised look. “Where exactly did you go tonight?”

  “Just out to a bar with my friend, Daphne.”

  “It can’t have been much fun if you chose to leave?”

  “Well,” said Skye, not willing to admit that she would have much preferred seeing him than staying in the bar with the drunk couple and the perverted cousin, “the fun part diminished when her boyfriend and his cousin turned up.”

  “You don’t like them?”

  “Not particularly.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well, the boyfriend’s a bit of a possessive pig and the cousin is a bit of a sleaze.”

  Raphael raised his eyebrows.

  “Oh? Was the cousin bothering you?”

  Skye shrugged.

  “A little.”

  Raphael was silent for a moment.

  “Want me to transform and eat him?” he said.

  Skye stifled a laugh.

  “No thanks, I could probably do that myself.”

  There was another brief pause and Skye’s eyes scanned the room some more, noting the various posters on the wall; there were a lot of jungle ones.

  “Did our driver offer you coffee?” Raphael questioned her.

  “Yes … but I declined. I’m not really a coffee fan, remember?”

  “Oh, I know. Just figured you might want some.”

  “And why would I?” said Skye challengingly, but going rather hot around the collar.

  “Maybe because you were drunk?”

  “I assure you I was not!” she retaliated, feeling whole-heartedly embarrassed now.

  Raphael pulled a mock pose which – though it was with the intent of poking fun at her – she could not deny made him look irritatingly adorable.

  “Hmmm, well, let’s see. You don’t call me for a whole week and when you do it’s in a bar with lots of loud, drunk people surrounding you and you seem slightly more, erm, forward than usual.” He chuckled. “Forgive me, I just assumed …”

  “Well, you assumed wrong!” snapped Skye. “I am not – was not – drunk! I just wanted to see how you were, that’s all; just checking if you were still alive. Besides, I only had a couple of cocktails – hardly enough to get me slaughtered off my face!”

  “Yes, but you were stumbling around a bit when I was talking to you on the tag device,” said Raphael innocently.

  “I was not!”

  “You were.”

  “I wasn’t!”

  “Skye, you really were. Don’t worry about it, we all get a little drunk every now and then, especially when we’re feeling upset …”

  “Who said I was upset?”

  “Well, not seeing me for a whole week. I can imagine anyone being upset by that …”

  Skye jumped up from her pouffe, a great snarl marring her features.

  “I can assure you that not seeing you has had no effect on me whatsoever,” she growled. “I am not sure where you are going with this and I hate to burst your fat egotistical head, but I am afraid you are wrong. I am not entirely sure why I am here. Like you said, I must have been completely drunk to accept your invitation. I think I should go.”

  Raphael burst out laughing.

  “Skye, you are so easy to wind up! I’m only joking with you … Sit back down. Please?”

  Shooting him a filthy look, Skye relented. He moved his pouffe nearer to hers, smiling.

  “I’m glad you came. All jokes aside, that night we spent … you know, on the Heath … it really meant a lot to me.”

  “Me too,” said Skye grudgingly.

  “I know you’re probably wondering why I haven’t called. I would ask you the same thing actually, except I guess you’re not really the type of person to call someone else. Still, I thought … Never mind. Anyway, I’ve had my reasons. The main one being that I’ve had to keep a low profile lately.”

  “How come?” said Skye.

  That tired, strained look that had been on his face when she first saw him that evening seemed to grow more prominent and when he spoke next there was a rigid edge to his voice.

  “Did you hear about that girl who was found in an abandoned warehouse in East London a week ago?”

  “The one who was killed by a wild animal?”

  Raphael’s face hardened.

  “She wasn’t
killed by a wild animal. She was murdered by Pearson and his gang. And they're trying to pin it on me.”

  Skye stared at him in shock.

  “What?” she gasped.

  Raphael nodded, his eyes staring in the direction of his keyboard, a fiery glow around his pupils.

  “Pearson and his lot know I’m a Morpher … But you already know this. You were there when he backed off. The reason he backed off is because all the thugs automatically respect any Morpher – plus, when we were kids I attacked him in tiger form. It was me who gave him that scar on his face. He and his little friends ganged up on me. I transformed, I didn’t know what else to do. I would never get away with that now, of course. I’d be put to death in an instant. Crazy, isn’t it? Pearson and his boys can assault, rape and murder innocent people and get away with it … but if you or me transformed to attack one of them, we’d be executed. What a wonderful justice system.”

  He laughed bitterly.

  Skye was thoroughly disturbed.

  “How do you know that they’re trying to pin this on you?” she said.

  “Sources mainly,” replied Raphael. “My father’s got spies all over the city. But I would have known anyway. The girl they killed … They had completely mutilated her. Normally they just kill – a blow to a head, a knife to the chest; but this time … this time, after they did terrible things to her, they cut her up into bits. To make it look like a vicious animal had ripped her to pieces.”

  He bowed his head, clasping his hands together.

  “But they’ve known that you’re a Morpher for ages. Why would they suddenly try and frame you for this now?” said Skye worriedly.

  Raphael raised his eyes to look at her, his face sombre.

  “That day I met you, Skye. When I jumped in. He didn’t like that. He doesn’t like it if someone gets the better of him – especially me, he hates me with a passion. That was the first time I’d actually seen him in action – with a lone girl, that is. I’d heard of it, but never been there. Every time I’d met him in the past, it was always just him and his gang, me and a few of my boys. Usually we’d have a fight, but nothing serious. But if he and his gang are trying it with a girl, that’s different. He was furious that I stepped in. An envoy of Lord Pearson even travelled here to speak to my father about it. That’s how angry he was. And still is. But there’s another reason he wants revenge on me.”

  He inhaled deeply.

  “I haven’t told anyone this. No one knows – except my father. And he only knows because he guessed. But I trust you. I’m responsible for a lot of Pearson’s men going missing. I’ll transform at night. I’ll hunt them, sniff them out … It’s not hard to find them. All you have to do is listen out for screams of terror and you know where to find them because they’ll be hurting someone. I’ll find them and I’ll kill them, one by one. So I guess that makes me a killer.”

  Skye had a fleeting memory of several weeks back when she was on her way home from the French restaurant. She recalled the screams, the raucous laughter and the great roar. She now knew who that roar belonged to.

  “I don’t regret any of it,” continued Raphael, his tone harsh. “Some people might think it’s extreme, killing them. But I don’t think it’s extreme for one moment. They kill people. Good, decent people. They kill them and they laugh about it in the open; they laugh at the suffering of others. There’s no one to protect these people. The only way to protect them is to eliminate the ones who are causing them harm. And that’s what I do. Am I wrong for doing so?”

  The fire blazed in his eyes. Skye gazed at him. Raphael was a vigilante, one of the last few warriors who sought to make right what was wrong in a city that so often seemed forsaken and abandoned by all that was good and pure. There was no judgement or condemnation in her heart at hearing these words; only admiration for him and, truthfully, shame towards herself. Didn’t she also have the power to help and protect innocent people? How many times had she heard screams of terror in the night, knowing full well that someone was in trouble, and yet she had done nothing? Why hadn’t she acted? For so many reasons … The fear of execution, the fear of persecution, not wanting to involve herself in other people’s business … Reasons, she suddenly realized, that seemed completely stupid, trivial and selfish. Her fear of people’s opinions, her suffering at the hands of those who mocked Morphers, her own insecurities, putting her own safety before other people’s … These paled in comparison with the innocent citizens who didn’t have the physical power to transform into a wild beast and protect themselves. The self-mortification that flooded through her at this unexpected awakening distressed her. Her father had stood up to thugs and lost his life. Raphael stood up to them and put his life on the line for doing so. How, then, could she just stand by and do nothing? In that moment, she could not recall a time when she had felt more ashamed.

  “You’re not wrong,” she said quietly, and she found she could hardly look him in the eye. “You’re not wrong at all … You’re right. Everything you’ve said and done is right. I – I want to help you.”

  The surprise that registered on Raphael’s face rendered him speechless for a good few moments.

  “Help me?” he said eventually.

  She nodded.

  “I wouldn’t want to put you in any danger,” said Raphael, his gaze intense.

  Skye’s familiar fiery temper wrestled itself out among the guilt and self-reproval.

  “I am a wolf, Raphael, not a mouse!”

  “It would be better if you were a mouse,” was his response. “At least then no one would see you in action.”

  He moved off his pouffe and knelt before her.

  “You don’t know how much it means to me to hear you say this,” he said softly, taking her hand, his face inches from hers. Skye’s heart skipped a beat and she almost felt herself melt into the hypnotizing green within his irises.

  “I won’t forget you saying this. I am touched. And I know you have your reasons for wanting to do so. I know you want to kill those filthy thugs as much as I do. But for now it’s not an option. I’ve taken out too many in the past year – to the point where Pearson and his men are getting suspicious. That’s the other reason he wants revenge on me, to punish me for destroying some of his clan. They have no proof, but it seems they’re on to me. My father has ordered me to lie low for a while; he strongly disapproves. He is doing what he can to protect the city, but I can’t sit by and watch while innocent people are murdered. I just can’t. I had promised him that I wouldn’t put myself in danger a few weeks back and I have kept that promise. But by then, Pearson was already on to me. And a young girl suffered horribly for it …” He closed his eyes, as if in pain. “If I resume this, I will have to be extra vigilant.”

  He squeezed her hand and his expression softened.

  “There’s another reason why I haven’t called you. I didn’t want to meet up with you in public. Just in case they saw you with me. If they’re focussed on targeting me, they might target anyone I’m seen with … and I wouldn’t forgive myself if they came after you.”

  He stared at her and that connection they had felt the night they ran through Hampstead Heath was conspicuous once more. Skye now felt guilty for the paranoia and resentment she had felt towards him during the past week; his silence had been his way of protecting her and a beautiful feeling sailed through her. The knowledge that he had such concern for her well-being touched her deeply.

  “Well,” said Skye with a gulp, “at least you know that if they did come after me, I’d stand a good chance of defending myself, or at least take a few of them down with me.”

  She gave him a small smile, which he returned, smiles that were only inches from one another …

  At that moment, there were several knocks on the door and they both snapped their eyes away and towards the rapping sound; Raphael rose from his knees and Skye pulled her hand back onto her lap, feeling that magical moment vanishing.

  “Master Raphael, are you ready for supper?” c
ame Forbes’s voice through the doorway. “Your father has requested that you and your lady friend dine with him.”

  Raphael turned to Skye, a grin breaking out on his face.

  “Want to meet my dad?”

  Skye’s eyes widened. Even though she had not even heard of the Renzo family prior to meeting Raphael (her lack of socializing was the main reason for this) ever since their acquaintance she had heard a great deal about Lord Renzo from her mother, Daphne and from her own research which she had undertaken in previous weeks. She had to admit that she was rather in awe of the man who had led the rebellion against the Pearson uprising during the riots, the man who ruled over the majority of West London and the man who, by all accounts, was the leader of the morally good that resisted the tyranny of thugs and scoundrels.

  “Oh – erm – I hadn’t expected to be invited to dinner,” she said, a little nervously.

  “Come on, I’ve met your mum, it’s only fair you meet my dad. Besides, he wants to meet you.”

  “He does?” said Skye, amazed. “Why?”

  “I told him you’re a new friend of mine. Plus the fact that you can transform. He’s a Morpher too, you know.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. So – how about it?”

  “Well … OK then …”

  “Excellent.” Raphael raised his voice and called through the door.

  “Thanks, Forbes, we’ll be down in a moment.”

  He turned to Skye and held out a hand to her so she could rise from her pouffe without running the risk of falling back into it.

  “Two tigers and a wolf, eh?” he said, opening the door and beckoning her to follow him. “You can only guess what we’ll be eating tonight – this will be interesting!”

  Chapter Eleven

  True to Raphael’s implications, dinner was served in carnivorous-style extravagance. The dining room consisted of one long twelve-seat table which sported several candelabras, each flickering a gentle flame. A plush red velvet carpet lined the floor and more paintings hung on the walls. The table was heaving with a number of dishes including sirloin steak, pork chops, duck, chicken breast, venison, lamb cutlets, leg of lamb, Yorkshire puddings and a few vegetables thrown in for good measure.

 

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