by Erin Wade
##
Darke filled Eden in on the details of her meeting with Chief Canton and the rest of their team. “I have a feeling Carter wasn’t the pack leader. Someone else is calling the shots for the rogue wolves.
“I need to find their lair. It’s going to be someone successful. Someone who moves easily in our circles. But let’s talk about something more pleasant. How was your day?”
“Lonely,”—Eden tiptoed to kiss her wife—“but productive. We received all of our equipment and office furniture today. I should be set up and open for business on Monday.”
“That’s super,” Darke said as she followed Eden upstairs to their bedroom. “I can help you arrange the furniture and set up equipment tomorrow. Will that help?”
“Your presence always helps.”
Eden sat down on the love seat and patted the place beside her. “I need to discuss something with you.”
“Am I in trouble?” Darke said, flashing her dimples.
Eden laughed. “You are now. You know that look turns me on.”
“Good to know it still works.”
“Seriously, I’m considering selling the house. Do you think that would be a good idea?”
“Isn’t this your family home? I thought you loved it.”
“I do, but Margaret said it’s so big, and we just rattle around in it. And there’ll never be children, so I—”
“You don’t like children?”
“I love children,” Eden gushed. “I just didn’t think it was possible to—”
“All things are possible.” Darke pulled her wife onto her lap. “But let’s spend a few years exploring things together first, just you and me.”
“You’ll get no argument from me,” Eden said as she leaned close to kiss her sexy wife.
##
Eden looked up from her notes as her second patient of the day walked into her office.
“Mr. Vorax, please make yourself comfortable. Sit anywhere you wish. Just give me a few minutes to finish reading your information.”
Eden had read Vorax’s medical history file earlier that morning, but she wanted to see which chair he selected.
Eden had learned to place chairs in such a manner that it gave her some insight into her patients. If they selected the chair closest to her, it suggested they were eager to get to know her and accept her help. If they sat in the chair farthest from her, it meant they were scared and wouldn’t be honest in describing their problems. The person who selected the seating in between was usually noncommittal and skeptical about being helped. Mr. Vorax sat down in the chair closest to her desk and waited politely.
Eden closed the file and looked up into the most intense gray eyes she had ever seen. For a second they glanced away but then settled on her face. “You’re beautiful,” Vorax said, sighing. “I had no idea you were so beautiful.”
“I assure you, sir, my looks have no bearing on my capabilities.” She was used to people characterizing her as a beautiful dumb blonde before they got to know her.
“Oh, I didn’t mean to be so forward,” Vorax said, a sheepish look on his face. “I … I have read your credentials and books on lycanthropy. It is unusual for such a beautiful woman to be so well-educated and accomplished.”
“Thank you. Your medical report says you have delusions of being a werewolf.”
“Oh, no, ma’am. I am a werewolf.”
“Can you transform at will?” Eden asked, watching his eyes.
“Do you want me to?”
“Are you dangerous?”
“No, I have as much control over my actions in wolf form as I do in human form.”
“Then yes, if you can. Go ahead.”
Vorax bowed his head.
Eden watched closely. The man was handsome, in his midforties with a thick mane of brown, unruly hair. His full beard was neat and trimmed close to his face.
To Eden’s amazement, hair began to cover Vorax’s entire face. His nose extended into a snout, and his ears rose above his head. “Shall I continue?” a raspy voice asked.
Eden stared in stunned silence.
“Dr. Knight?” Vorax growled. “Shall I continue?”
“No, please stop.”
Within seconds, Vorax reverted to a handsome man. “I hope I didn’t scare you.”
“No! No, you didn’t scare me.” Eden tried to remove the scowl from her face but failed. She couldn’t take her eyes off the man,
“I’ve, um, I’ve treated many people with lycanthropy,” she said, “but I’ve never had anyone actually change their appearance so easily.”
“But you have had people alter their appearance,” Vorax insisted.
“Yes, but … When did you discover you were a werewolf?”
“I’ve always known. My brothers and sisters are like me. When we were young we stayed in our wolf form to run and play.”
“Were you parents wolves?”
“Yes, but they died when I was very young. Killed by hunters. That’s when my siblings and I realized it was safer to be in human form.”
“What do you hope to accomplish by working with me?” Eden asked.
“I wish to wed.” Vorax’s eyes twinkled. “I don’t know how to break this information to my prospective wife. I’d hoped you could counsel both of us and help her accept what I am.”
“Wolves rarely marry outside their own kind,” Eden said, sharing information Darke had given her.
Vorax frowned and stroked his beard. “Why not? There’s no written law that forbids it. There are many tales of offspring from werewolves and humans.”
“I realize that. I’m only saying that wolves tend to be drawn to wolves.”
“Ah, true. Well, my lady friend is very much in love with me,” Vorax said, “but she knows nothing about this side of me.”
Eden took a minute to study her calendar. “I have an opening Friday. Would you like to bring her with you?”
“I’d prefer you counsel with her alone. Don’t out me, but see how she feels about the idea of a werewolf.”
“I’d be happy to counsel with her and see if she might be receptive to the idea of werewolves in general.” Eden said, “but you need to be the one to make the actual revelation.”
“How would you feel about marrying a werewolf?” Vorax asked.
“If I truly loved someone, nothing would keep me from marrying them,” Eden confessed.
##
“Knock, knock,” Darke said as she stuck her head into Eden’s office.
“Come in, darling.” Eden beamed.
“What’s with the chairs?” Darke asked as she walked past the three chairs arranged at different distances around Eden’s desk.
Eden took a minute to explain the purpose behind the unusual seating arrangement.
“Um … and what if one sits on your desk?” Darke did just that, waggling her brows as she shot Eden a suggestive smile.
“That means they want me to stand between their legs and kiss their luscious lips.” Eden slipped between Darke’s knees and wrapped her arms around her wife’s neck. Their kiss was slow and searching as it built to a raging fire. “It may also mean they want to get me on the couch,” Eden murmured against soft lips.
“I’m pretty sure your diagnosis is perfect.” Darke kissed her again and carried her to the sofa. “Will I be the first to try out your couch?”
“The first and only,” Eden whispered.
Chapter 49
There had been no break in the case. Darke and Caz had searched every known cave in the area and found nothing. Eden’s practice was flourishing. She felt that many of her clients were just curiosity seekers. Most of them wanted to talk about Wink and what he was doing. Eden had decided to keep the house, based on Darke’s willingness to eventually have children. “I’ll carry them,” Darke had insisted. “It’ll be easier on me. I don’t want to take any chances on losing you.”
“Margaret?” Darke called out as she entered the kitchen. “As promised, you may leave early to
day. I’ll be cooking tonight.”
“What is this?” Margaret asked, holding up the bottle of wine she’d pulled from the bag of groceries she was unpacking.
“Rakia,” Darke said. “Fruit brandy. Eden loves it.”
“What are you celebrating?”
“Our reunion. While we were in Bulgaria, we had dinner at an incredible Bulgarian restaurant and got drunk on rakia.”
“And I suppose you took advantage of her,” Margaret huffed.
“Why, Miss Margaret! Sometimes I believe you consider me an animal. But just for the record, I have never taken advantage of Eden.”
“Um, but I never miss an opportunity to ravish her ,” Eden purred as she entered the room and slipped her arms around her wife’s waist.
“I think I’m going to be ill,” Margaret said, slapping one hand over her mouth as if to keep from retching. “Go! Go take your showers. I’ll get your wine into an ice bucket, and then I’m leaving.”
“Do you think she knows we run around naked when she isn’t here?” Darke whispered as they ascended the stairs.
“And have made love on every surface in the house,” Eden giggled sniffing Darke. “You smell delicious. I love the scent of you.”
“Are you in need of a shower?” Darke asked.
“No.”
“Then let’s make love first and shower later.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
##
A sound pulled Darke from a satiated sleep. “Eden?”
There was no response, other than the soft whispers of steady breathing from her wife’s side of the bed. Darke eased from the bed and slipped down the stairs to the kitchen. The house was dark. Margaret had even turned out the night-light in the kitchen. Darke listened, sniffing the air, but could find nothing to alarm her.
She fumbled for the light switch and squinted as bright light filled the room. She found a full apron, slipped it over her head, and tied the back. Eden loves it when I cook wearing only this.
In a little over an hour Darke had set the table, plated their food, and was carrying it to the small dining room when soft hands cupped her buttocks from behind. “My, my, little maid, what a nice round derrière you have.” Eden giggled as she wrapped her arms around her wife’s waist and placed kisses up her back.
Darke caught her breath and leaned into the fondling. “If you’re hungry, m’lady, you’d best stop groping the hired help.”
Eden threw back her head and howled with laughter. “I think I’ll eat first. I don’t want my food to get cold. But I have a feeling my maid will only get hotter before we finish our meal.”
“What? I’ve married a clairvoyant!”
“Rakia!” Eden’s smile made Darke glad she had gone the extra mile to find the Bulgarian brandy. “And you’ve already opened both bottles.”
“Margaret iced them and opened them before she left,” Darke said.
Eden raised her class. “To a lifetime together.”
##
Darke struggled to open her eyes, and her head hurt like hell. She was still naked but wasn’t in the soft warm bed she expected. Eden wasn’t at her side. She lay still for a long time and heard nothing. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she realized that she was in a cage. Ignoring her jackhammering headache, she sat up and looked around. She was in a basement. Dim light filtered through a filthy window above her.
She noticed a pile of clothes in the corner and realized it was Eden. We’ve been drugged, she thought. “Eden? Honey, are you okay? Eden!”
“She can’t hear you.” The deep baritone voice shook the cage. “She doesn’t tolerate strong drugs as well as you do.”
“Don’t toy with her,” Margaret said, her voice harsh and filled with hatred. “Kill her now. Then you can take Eden.”
“Why, Mother Winthrop, I believe you hate Darke Knight.”
“You’re damn right I do. She murdered my son.” Margaret spit through the bars. Darke wiped the slime from her cheek.
“Who are you?” She glared at the man.
“Surely Eden has told you about me. I’m Darwin Vorax, the werewolf.”
“Yes.” Darke squinted to see the man. “She said you are the real thing. I guess she was right.”
“I expected you to come after me,” Vorax said with feigned disappointment. “Why didn’t you?”
Darke struggled to her feet. “Eden liked you.”
“So you thought I was harmless,” Vorax taunted.
“Something like that.”
Darke stepped forward and wrapped her hands around the bars of the cage. She screamed and jumped back as high-voltage electricity shot through her.
Vorax laughed. “I thought you’d avoid sparks and flames and that sort of thing. Your last experience with fire wasn’t so great, was it?”
Darke paced the cage. The top and bottom were solid steel plates. She had never been caged before. She reached up and touched the top of the cage. She was surprised when electricity didn’t run through her.
“You! You put drugs in our brandy,” Darke said, glaring at Margaret. “You’re Margaret Winthrop. Carter was your son. That’s how he knew our every move. You provided him information.”
“Yes,” Margaret hissed. Saliva ran from the corners of her mouth.
Darke looked around the basement. “Carter had over twenty thugs backing him up,” she taunted. “Surely you don’t expect to kill me with one old man.”
“I expect to burn you alive,” Margaret howled as she gestured to cans of gasoline along the basement wall. “I expect to applaud your screams and pleas for mercy.”
Darke turned her attention to Vorax. “Where are we?”
“The basement of your home,” the man said. “You didn’t even know you had a basement, did you?”
“It’s huge.” Darke walked the length of the cage, examining the walls. “Why kill me here?”
“It’s sacred to us,” Margaret growled. “This home was in our family for over two hundred years. Then Eden’s grandfather cheated my father out of it.”
“How did he do that?”
“He promised his firstborn granddaughter to my son in exchange for the estate. We needed a fresh infusion of blood into our pack.”
“That would have been Sharon,” Darke said.
“Yes, but she refused Carter, and her father didn’t force her to marry him.”
“So, you murdered him and Sharon.”
“Yes, and our plan was working until you showed up with your fancy car and killer wolf. Eden had agreed to marry Carter. Can you imagine the wonderful children they would have produced? So blonde, so gloriously beautiful.”
“She was terrified,” Darke said, doing her best to keep the woman talking as she studied the electrical hookup to her cage. “She didn’t love him. She was just marrying him to have a family. She had no way of knowing you were the family from hell.”
“Enough!” Margaret screamed as she grabbed a can of gas and ran to the cage. She made the mistake of underestimating Darke’s speed.
Darke reached through the bars and grabbed Margaret, pulling her against the electrified metal. The bars burned into Darke’s chest, but she held Margaret tight as the electricity fried the woman. She shriveled in Darke’s hands. Darke released her, and the form of an old gray wolf fell to the floor.
“Poor Margaret,” Vorax said, clicking his tongue. “She has always been too emotional, too careless.”
“Why Eden?” Darke knew Vorax would be a formidable adversary.
“Don’t you know?” Vorax mocked her. “Look at her. She’s gorgeous. I plan to make her my mate.”
“She’s mine!” Darke bared her teeth.
“Not for long.” Vorax began to empty the gasoline cans around the cage. “I won’t make the same mistake stupid Margaret did. I won’t come close to you.”
Darke knew her time was running out. “What did I do to you? Why do you hate me so?”
“We were this close,” Vorax said, holding his thumb and ind
ex finger half an inch apart. “This close to overthrowing Raven. Then we would have overrun your mother’s village and had everything we needed to take over Europe. But you had to step in. You crippled Lycan. He’s a pitiful, whining patch of fur, thanks to you. Do you know he sleeps in his own defecation and urine because he can’t walk? You did that to him. Why didn’t you kill him?”
“It wasn’t my place to kill him. He was of Raven’s pack. She decided whether he lived or died.”
“She will pay. They will all pay. Our son will rise up to rule over all of them.” Vorax searched his jacket pocket. Then he jammed his hands into the pockets of his slacks and pulled out the key to the cage. He threw it against the wall.
“Lose your matches?” Darke snarled.
Vorax emptied the last of the gas cans and then picked Eden up in his arms.
“If you hurt her, I swear I’ll—”
“What?” Vorax’s shrill, evil laughter echoed through the basement. “Burn in hell?
“Don’t go anywhere,” he jeered as he started up the stairs. “I’m gonna throw a candle down to you.”
Darke noticed that the gasoline had pooled around her cage. In a matter of seconds, it would burst into flames.
Suddenly, a scream rang out through the ancestral home, and a vicious battle ensued above her. Furniture crashed and lamps broke. Walls shook and growls that rivaled thunder echoed throughout the house. Apparently Vorax had reverted to his wolf form to do battle. And then everything was quiet. Darke steeled herself to die.
She held her breath as she sensed movement on the stairs. Something, or someone, was inching toward her. When it stood outside her cage, Darke gasped. Eden was right. Vorax was a perfect wolf specimen: thick, beautiful coat; small, perfectly positioned ears; eyes as blue as the sky. He was almost mesmerizing. Then he began to transform. His head first. Long, flowing blonde hair shook out as the angles of a perfect face took shape. Then eyes one could lose their soul in and lips that always begged to be kissed.
“Eden?” Darke stared in a stupor. “The key’s against the wall over there, but the cage is charged with electricity. Can you see to trip the breaker?”
Eden crossed to the breaker box, avoiding as much of the gasoline as possible. She flinched as she threw the switch, expecting it to shoot fire and send them both up in flames, but it didn’t.