Greywolf

by Mary A. DeCarlo

  Michael sucked in his breath, his arms tightening around her. “He could have killed you."

  "No!” she exclaimed. “That's what I'm trying to tell you. He couldn't kill me as long as he could get away. He loved me, he wouldn't hurt me. Maybe if we were confined together ... I don't know. But I'm sure he'd take any other kill before he would harm what was his.” She forced him to look at her. “You would never willingly harm her if you loved her!"

  "Dear God, I hope you're right,” he groaned.

  "I know I am. You could never harm your mate.” She smoothed back his hair and kissed him, then turned to leave. She glanced back. He looked so forlorn standing there that her heart went out to him. “Go home, Michael. Claim what is yours. Tell her the truth.” She quietly slipped out the door, leaving him alone.

  That night Michael didn't come home till dawn. He let his nature take control. When he returned, he knew that this was a part of him he could never deny, nor did he want to. It was as much a part of him as breathing. As much a part of him as Altheia.

  That afternoon, Michael started for home.

  FOURTEEN

  Michael arrived home early Sunday afternoon. An hour later the bodyguards were dismissed and gone.

  Their reports revealed that while she had received several more calls, no one had yet approached her, either at home or elsewhere. Nor had they been able to trace the calls. She hadn't tried to call him either, so she must still be mad at him. He had to see her to assure himself that she was really all right.

  Standing before her door he almost panicked. What if she wouldn't have anything more to do with him, even before he had a chance to try and explain? God, he prayed, let her give me another chance. But Lord help him, for he had no idea what he was going to say.

  The last person Altheia expected to find on her doorstep was Michael, but he sure did look good standing there, even if she was still ticked at him for his behavior that night. She'd forgiven him for leaving town but not for running out on her at his place.

  She'd found out about the bodyguards a few days ago. Jasmine had sneaked out of the bungalow and when she chased her down, she'd caught sight of one of the guards. When she reported it to the sheriff, he tried to calm her down, then finally admitted that Michael had hired bodyguards to protect her while he was gone.

  FIFTEEN

  For a change, Michael was in a good mood. He held out some hope for Altheia and himself. Maybe in time he would figure out how to tell her the truth.

  Tonight they had a date. He could sit across from her most of the evening and gaze at her to his heart's content. He could barely wait.

  Altheia was also in an upbeat mood. She had missed Michael and was glad he had returned. She was even more glad that he wanted to try to work things out. If only she had some idea of what the problem was, maybe she could help find the solution.

  She was glad she wouldn't be home alone again tonight. Were the guards still out there, she wondered? Or had Michael dismissed them now that he was back? She had only seen the one guard that one time. They were really very good at staying undetected. If she hadn't lived in the middle of nowhere, she probably would have never noticed him.

  She contemplated what to wear. He'd said dress casual, but she really wanted to look especially nice to please Michael.

  Michael was more than pleased. She was wearing some sort of silky pantsuit in emerald green that made the red in her hair stand out. While he missed seeing her legs, it was soft and loose and swayed lightly around her figure. It would rest only briefly on any one part at a time. His hands itched to run up and down her enticing curves, to map them with his palms. Tonight wasn't going to be as relaxing as he'd thought. It was going to take all his self control to keep from touching her.

  The tavern was cozy and they enjoyed themselves over a dinner of roast veal. A definite improvement over his last night, Michael thought. A fire blazed cheerfully in a massive stone fireplace, warding off the cool, night mountain air.

  Conversation was again kept innocuous and they began to relax with each other. They sat and talked for hours over coffee and it was late when he drove her home.

  Somehow he'd managed to keep his hands to himself, but he devoured her with his eyes. She was close enough for her scent to fan his desire into a raging inferno, but he managed to find the strength to resist.

  The first thing he noticed was the lights; they were all on. Michael glanced at Altheia. She was sitting forward, apprehension showing on her face. He was sure the lights were off when they'd left. “I want you to wait in the van while I check it out."

  "No.” She wasn't about to wait outside alone. “I want to stay with you."

  Michael looked at her closely. She was too upset to leave alone. Besides, she probably would be safer with him. “All right,” he reluctantly agreed, “but stay close."

  Someone had forced the kitchen door, probably with a crowbar. You could see the gouges on the molding. The light from the kitchen spilled out into the yard. Cautiously they let themselves into the bungalow. He hoped whoever had broken in was long gone. He didn't want any chance that Altheia would be hurt. Rage threatened to consume him. If he hadn't come back from Canada, she would have been here without him.

  The kitchen was empty. Nothing looked like it had been touched. Slowly he stepped into the living room. Except for all the lights being on, nothing seemed out of place. The bedroom door was closed.

  As he started towards the door, Michael experienced a gut reaction to the feeling of evil in the air. One hand reached out and pushed Altheia behind him as the other turned the door knob. As the door clicked open, he drew a deep breath in preparation for what might greet them beyond the doorway, then froze for a heartbeat.

  Quickly he turned, trying to lead Altheia away. Sensing something was wrong, she fought him. “No,” he said. “You don't want to go in there. Wait here, let me look first."

  She continued to fight him. Taking her in his arms, he held her close. “Please. I'll just be a minute.” He sat her on the sofa. “Stay here."

  He had to steel himself to enter the bedroom. The blood smell was strong. He was sure of what he would find; he already knew the blood wasn't human. He figured it was the cat, but he didn't want Altheia to see just yet. He wanted to protect her if he could. Slowly he stepped into the room.

  The cat had been strung upside down on a rope attached to a light fixture on the ceiling. Someone had slit its throat and apparently as an afterthought, gutted it. There was blood all over. The smell of blood and carrion made him bare his teeth, a low growl erupting from his throat. He wanted to kill whoever had done this. Then he heard her.

  Spinning around, he saw Altheia. She was standing in the doorway, her eyes glazed as she stared at her cat. An eerie keening sound came from her throat. With two steps, he crossed to her, sweeping her up into his arms just as her eyes rolled back in her head and she started to collapse to the floor.

  Thinking rapidly, he decided it would be best to get her away from here as quickly as possible. He wanted to take her to his place but he knew that wouldn't be a good idea. Gently he tucked her in the van, belted her in and took her back to town. After renting her a room at a boarding house near his garage, he called Doc Anderson.

  When she had regained consciousness on the way into town, all she could do was cry. He couldn't get her to talk to him or acknowledge him in any way. Doc said it was just shock, not to worry. After giving her a sedative, he left.

  Michael sat holding her until she fell asleep, rocking her in his arms. He left her sleeping in the bed. The landlady, Mrs. Steven, would keep an eye on her. She knew where to find him if necessary. He then went to see John Howland.

  "I'm telling you, John, this guy's a psychopath. He's been calling and harassing her for weeks, and now he breaks in and kills the cat. Altheia could have been there alone!” Michael was pacing the small office, trying to talk some sense into the Sheriff. “What do you need? For him to try and kill her next?"

  "Calm
down, Michael. You know this is a small town. I just don't have the manpower to watch her place 24 hours a day. You know that. You're being unreasonable.” Sheriff Howland was as frustrated as Michael. “You know my hands are tied."

  "Damn!” Michael's fist shot out and slammed into the door. Seconds later, two deputies burst into the room with their guns drawn.

  John waved them away. Eyeing Michael warily, they backed out. John knew they would not be far from the door now. “Look, what about those bodyguards you hired?"

  Michael raked his fingers through his hair. “I haven't got any more money,” he answered tersely.

  "I thought your grandfather was some sort of millionaire. Can't you go to him for help?"

  "My grandfather disowned me until I get married. He won't help.” Michael threw himself down in the chair.

  "So marry her and take her home to New Orleans."

  "I'm never getting married,” he growled.

  "Yeah, sure. What's the matter? You got some sort of communicable disease or something?” the Sheriff chuckled.

  Michael's head shot up and he glared at him. The chuckle died in John's throat as he looked into the feral gleam that flared in Michael's eyes. “All right,” he acquiesced, “marriage is not an option."

  Michael shut his eyes and tried to get himself under control before he did anything else stupid.

  "Just tell me one thing, Michael. If you don't love this woman, how in God's name did you get so involved?"

  Michael slowly stood and walked away. Pausing at the door, he glanced back. “I wish I knew, John,” he said softly, and then was gone.

  SIXTEEN

  Things had been hectic since Monday. The police had been in and torn the place apart looking for clues with no luck. The guy must have been wearing gloves. They had been frustrated in every attempt to solve this case. Michael was acting like a caged animal whose home had been threatened. He was impossible to be around and everyone was avoiding him as much as possible.

  Michael knew he was being unreasonable, but he couldn't help himself. The full moon was approaching and his nerves were raw. He wanted to tear something or someone limb from limb. The only thing that calmed him down was Altheia. He couldn't get enough of her.

  He made her stay in town till Friday, while he spent the nights at her place. He'd spend time with her every night, not talking much. All he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and look at her. It was difficult to let her out of his sight long enough to go to work, much less to her place. But he kept hoping the guy would try to return while he was there waiting for him.

  Mrs. Steven's’ hovering presence kept him from losing control, for which he was thankful. His lust was increasing rapidly with the fullness of the moon. And this month, there would be no relief. Nothing would force him away from her and leave her unprotected. He'd do whatever he must to slake his libido, but he wouldn't leave.

  Nights in her bungalow were torture. After roaming around for hours, he would find himself in her bedroom. Cleaned now, the blood smell was gone. But her scent permeated the room. The agony and the pleasure threatened to madden him.

  Her pillow held her sweet musky aroma and he would bury his face in it for hours. He wished it were her hair, her body he held. Then, when the hardness refused to abate, he would find himself unable to resist from masturbating in an almost futile attempt at release.

  He knew he could not continue like this. If he couldn't find a way to resolve this attraction to her, it was just a matter of time before his body would no longer allow his mind to resist her. Then he would take her as his and they would both be doomed.

  Once they mated, he knew he would belong to her and she to him. If she rejected him then, his life would be over. His nature would not allow his mate to leave ... ever. Only death would be allowed to separate them.

  * * * *

  He brought her home on Friday night. He'd had the locks changed and the door reinforced. And he'd thought to have all of Jasmine's things packed up before she returned. He stored them in a closet for when she was better prepared to accept them. Tomorrow, he told her, they would take Jasmine's remains out into the forest and bury them. He decided to take her to the meadow by the small pool. It was now carpeted with spring wildflowers and he was sure it would please her.

  It was the first time they had been alone since Monday. Michael was happy that she seemed to accept him back in her life.

  He refused to leave her alone that night though. Even if there had been no calls, he wouldn't leave her alone. He told her he would either sleep on the sofa or he'd sleep on the porch, but rest assured, he was staying.

  She finally relented and let him sleep on the sofa, but the soft click of the lock on the bedroom door was like a knife in his heart.

  * * * *

  Their hike to the meadow was pleasant enough considering their mission. Michael helped her pick a sunny spot near the pond and later gathered a pile of smooth stones from the stream to cover the grave and to deter scavengers. Altheia gathered an armful of wildflowers and spread them over the grave.

  She was heartbroken and scared. Pulling her down to the ground with him, he held her tenderly while she sobbed against his shoulder. It tore him apart that he didn't know how to ease her pain. He would have loved to lay her back in this sun-splashed meadow and take her as his mate, to make her forget everything but him and how much he loved her. But he sensed that her emotions were still too fragile. It was not the right time or place to tell her what she needed to know before he could make her his own. Though how much longer he would be able to resist the rampant lust that was devouring his soul, he could not know. With the full moon but days away, the animal in him was threatening to override his common sense.

  * * * *

  That afternoon, they went to a small local fair in a nearby town. Trying to lighten her mood, he took her on some rides, bought her a candied apple when he noticed her eyeing them and won her a stuffed bear at a dart game.

  While watching a puppet show, she laughed delightedly and he couldn't resist kissing her. As his tongue slid into her mouth, he thanked the gods they were in a crowd of people. When her sweetness, candy apple and honey, coated his tongue, he nearly lost control. Had they been alone, nothing would have been able to stop him from making her his.

  Later, as they were getting ready to leave, they passed a fortune teller's booth and Altheia insisted they stop. Dread swept through him but Altheia would not be denied. And he could deny her nothing, save himself.

  Michael sat next to her, barely able to breathe. As Altheia placed her hand in that of the fortune teller's, he tensed. This was not the way he wanted her to find out, but he was helpless to stop her.

  The woman looked at the hand lying in hers and then stroked the palm lightly with her other. “I see great loss and sorrow. You have lost all that was dear to you."

  Altheia gasped as tears sprang to her eyes. Michael reached for her, intending to take her out of there, but she waved him away.

  "But there is also a great love. One to last a lifetime and beyond. I can't see him clearly.” She frowned. “He seems to keep fading away."

  "No matter, he loves you as no other. Be warned, someone tries to bring you harm. Someone you know."

  Michael was getting extremely agitated. He could no longer sit quietly and he rose to pace the small enclosure. He had not really thought to find someone with true sight in someplace like this, but her words were striking terror in his heart.

  "Michael?” He looked at her. He had been so distracted he hadn't heard her get up. “You're next,” she said.

  "No!” Panic made him back away. Her hand reached out to stay him. His shoulders slumped in defeat. She asked; he obeyed.

  Sitting down, Altheia stood behind him. Her hands on his shoulders were like a lifeline anchoring them together. Hesitantly, he put his hand out and laid it palm up in the fortune teller's hand. He felt her start at the contact and her eyes shot up and locked with his.

  He could feel her
surprise and confusion. What did she see, he wondered? “The Moon,” she whispered, and Michael froze. No, he thought, not like this. Anger surged through him. He felt his lips peel back from his teeth as the animal in him gained control. Then a tremor ripped through his body to his fingertips. The fortune teller's eyes widened with horror as she began to shake her head in denial.

  With a growl, Michael ripped his hand from hers and surged to his feet. Throwing several bills on the table, he grabbed Altheia and pulled her out of there. He needed to put as much distance between them and the fortune teller as quickly as possible.

  "Michael!” Altheia was having trouble keeping up with him as he practically dragged her behind him. She stumbled and almost fell. But then he quickly turned and caught her in his arms. Squeezing her so tightly she could barely breathe, he kept whispering in her ear. “I'll never let anything hurt you. I promise. No one will ever touch you. I promise.” She knew he was concerned for her safety, but suddenly his intensity frightened her.

  Carefully she pulled away. His hands reached up and, capturing her head, he kissed her. His kisses were savage, bruising her mouth beneath his. He was scaring her with his attack. She began to fight him, trying to pull away.

  Suddenly, he released her and stepped away, but grasped her hands in his. “I'm sorry. It's crazy, but she made me so frightened for you. I don't want to lose you."

  Altheia stared at him as she sought to compose herself. That was the closest he'd come to admitting the depths of his feelings for her. But she was still scared. She would have to be careful to see that they maintained a distance while Michael dealt with whatever was haunting him.

  "Fine. I'd just like to go now,” she said calmly. Tonight she would send him home. She needed some time to think.

  After a light dinner, she insisted that he go home. She said she felt fine and she promised to call if she needed him. After making her promise to keep on the security lights he'd installed in the yard, he agreed to go home.