“How do you feel about this contact?” Rowena asked when she'd finished reading. “I know you spoke about finding your father when you left, but I imagine that was for our benefit?”
“I never really intended to see him,” I admitted, nibbling at my lower lip anxiously. “It seemed like a good way to convince you I'd chosen to leave.”
“Thought so,” Marianne responded.
I flicked at a piece of fluff on my dark trousers, thinking about my father's letter before I spoke. “It seems seventeen years is a long time to wait before contacting me. I barely remember him and I feel a bit resentful about his deciding to write now. It's as if he's got his life sorted into neat little boxes and now he's ready to be my father again. I'm twenty years old, for crying out loud. I needed my father when I was younger and I'm not certain I need him now.” I stopped suddenly and the two women waited patiently whilst I sorted through the complex emotions his letter had evoked. “But on the other hand, he's the only living relative I have.”
“Why don't you think about it for a while? There's no reason you need to make any decision immediately, read through the letter a few times, and think it through,” Rowena advised. “Sometimes it's better to take time over a decision, not make a rash judgment based on your first emotive response. He could genuinely regret the decisions he made in the past. Maybe he really does want to make amends. It would be a shame to make a hasty decision and live to regret it later.”
Rowena had come up with the perfect answer and I was pleased all over again that I'd met this wonderful… vampire, who'd taken over mothering me in so many distinct ways. It was amazing to have someone to talk to about things again, something I'd missed greatly in the past two years. I valued her advice and knew she would do her best to help me make the right decisions. “You're right. I'll think about it for a while.” Glancing from Rowena to Marianne and back again, I smiled tremulously. “I'd prefer to keep this between us for now. I don't want to bother Lucas with it, he'll only worry, and I need time to sort through it myself.”
“Of course,” Rowena agreed. She stood up, brushing her fingers across my hair. “Now why don't I make you a nice cup of coffee?”
She disappeared into the kitchen and I turned back to Marianne, eyeing her with interest. “These friends of yours, the shape shifters? What is that, I've never heard of it?”
Marianne placed a cushion beneath my ankle where it rested on the coffee table, then settled back against the couch. “Shape shifters are humans who are capable of transforming into animals.”
“They live here in Puckhaber?” The very idea boggled my mind; it seemed Puckhaber Falls was a hotbed of supernatural beings, although from what Lucas had told me, there were groups all over the world. I just hadn't known about them before now.
Marianne nodded. “On the other side of town. They tend to live in groups, like we do.”
“How did you meet them?”
“They arrived here about eighteen months ago, we began to see some of them in the forest, and as I'm the friendly one,” she announced with a cheeky smile, “Lucas charged me with approaching them and arranging an agreement between us.”
“Agreement?”
Rowena arrived with a cup of steaming coffee and handed it to me before sitting down on the opposite couch, clasping her hands in her lap. “When we meet other groups, it tends to be quite uncomfortable, unless some sort of truce is put in place. Shape shifters don't like vampires and vice versa as a rule. To share the same area, agreement has to be made to keep to our own areas and not interfere in each other's business.”
I sipped the hot coffee, inhaling the heady aroma as I thought. “Why don't you like one another?”
Marianne's tinkling laugh caught my attention. “You are such a novice, Charlotte, I sometimes forget about that. We are a different species to the shape shifters, just as we are a different species to humans. As with all differences amongst people, it causes suspicions and hatred to breed quickly.”
“But you've managed to make friends with these people?”
Marianne nodded vigorously, the silver streaks in her eyes flaring. “When I met with Nick and his people, I realized quickly that we could be of mutual benefit to one another. As you know, our choice to only feed on animal blood makes us somewhat of a rarity in the vampire world, a rarity which means we are small in terms of other Kisses.”
I nodded to indicate my understanding and she continued.
“Nick and his group are in a similar position. They are a small pack, only about thirty members and made up of various shape shifters who have come together through persecution by other packs. Nick is their leader, but he's very young and naturally they've had some difficulties with other packs in the past.”
“Wait – define young?” I requested, knowing that when speaking with vampires, young was a matter of conjecture when you were dealing with creatures that had lived sometimes for hundreds of years. “And what difficulties?”
“Nick is twenty five, which is remarkably young for the leader of a shape shifter pack, and they've had difficulties with other packs attacking them in the past, because of their fairly unique makeup. Packs are usually made up of one type of shape shifter, for instance they will all turn into wolves, or bears. In Nick's pack, they have come together as outcasts from other packs, so they turn into all sorts of different animals.”
Rowena leaned forward on the couch, her long hair draping across one slender shoulder. “Nick's group needed protection and assistance and Lucas felt we could use a similar sort of arrangement, so he proposed to Nick that we support one another and promise to look out for each other's groups.” She grinned, her eyes remembering a time in the past. “Initially it took a lot of work to come to an arrangement, they were as suspicious of us as we were of them, but when their pack was threatened about twelve months back, Nick requested Lucas's help and we supported them when they were attacked by a group from South Dakota. Since then, we've become quite firm friends.”
“So much so, that Katie's babysitter is Cecilia Field, one of the members of Nick's pack,” Marianne added. “And Jerome is a member of their pack, also.”
“Jerome? Doctor Harding?” I was flabbergasted.
“Yes. We haven't told you before now, because we needed Nick's permission to do so. He's given that permission now.”
“What sort of animals do they turn into,” I questioned curiously. The concept was fascinating and I wondered how it happened – did they change in an instant, or was it a slower process. It would be neat to see one of them change and I wondered if I would get to see a transformation happen.
“Nick's animal is a wolf; David's, too; Toby turns into a bear, Rafe is a lion,” Marianne reeled off, touching her fingers one after the other as she went, “Marco's is a coyote. I'm not certain of everybody's animal in the pack, some are less predatory, and for instance, Cecelia's animal is a swan. Jerome is a Newfoundland when he shifts.”
“Wait! You said one of them turns into a lion?” I glanced curiously from Marianne to Rowena, recalling the discussion I'd had with Sheriff Davies earlier.
“Yes, Rafe does,” Rowena confirmed. “Why do you ask?”
I briefly explained the conversation I'd had with the Sheriff and even before I'd finished, Rowena was up on her feet and heading towards the door. “We must warn Nick, he needs to know about this.”
Consequently, within ten minutes I was being introduced to Nick Lingard, who sat solemnly on the couch opposite me with Lucas and Ripley by his side. Wearing a faded blue t-shirt and black denims, his feet were encased in heavy boots and it was apparent from the damp dirty blonde hair curling around his collar that he'd changed quickly without bothering to dry off his hair. His skin was olive toned; his eyes gray and he had a neatly trimmed goatee, which took attention away from the jagged scar that marred his otherwise attractive features. The scar ran from just below his left eye to the corner of his mouth and it took all my willpower to avoid staring at it. Like Striker, his eyes ga
ve the notion of him being much older, suggesting he'd seen more than his share of ordeals despite his lack of years.
“What did Davis tell you?” he asked bluntly, with no preamble after the introductions had been made. There was no softness in his eyes; they were as cold as the February weather outside.
“Two groups of hunters sighted some sort of wildcat in the woods,” I began after a cautious look into Lucas's eyes and seeing his imperceptible nod.
“Where?” Nick snapped, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“I don't know.”
“What sort of cat?” He narrowed his eyes and I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, uncertain about this tall, angry man in front of me.
“I don't know—”
“How many did they see?”
“Only one, I think…”
He brushed his fingers through his hair impatiently, eyeing me with an air of contempt before he spoke again. “Probably better if I see Davis myself, not gonna get much from this one,” he muttered.
Lucas opened his mouth as if to speak, but I got in first, irritated enough by this stranger's attitude to overcome my natural shyness. “If you'd give me half a chance, instead of interrupting so rudely every two seconds, I could tell you what 'this one' does know! Are you always such an arrogant pig?”
For a few seconds there was absolute silence in the room, and then Lucas smirked a little, eyeing me with approval, whilst Marianne just laughed aloud. “She's right, Nick. You are being an arrogant pig. I thought you'd gotten over this attitude – or perhaps you're just cranky because I made you stand out in the rain for six hours, putting the marquee together?”
For a moment Nick Lingard remained silent, eyeing me coldly before he relaxed a little and his lips formed a small half smile. “Guess I deserved that.”
“You certainly did,” I announced, still smarting from his arrogant attitude.
“Sorry. I don't trust strangers easily,” Nick admitted huskily, his entire demeanor relaxing a smidgeon. “Would you tell me what you heard from Davis?”
“Will you promise not to interrupt?” I eyed him coolly, arching one eyebrow in question.
His eyes widened and for a moment I thought he was going to hurl further abuse, but just before I cringed in preparation, he chuckled throatily, glancing at Lucas. “I can see why you've fallen for this one; she's a real little hellcat.”
“She has her moments,” Lucas agreed, gold swirling in his eyes when he winked at me. “Go ahead, Charlotte. Tell our grumpy friend what you were told by the Sheriff.”
This time, Nick remained stoically silent whilst I retold the story, including everything Sheriff Davis had said.
When I'd finished, Ripley spoke. “So nobody got a good look at the wildcat?”
“Apparently not, Sheriff Davis said both the description of the color and size of the cat was pretty confused. Any color from golden brown through to black and bigger than a bobcat or cougar.”
“But the guys who saw it were full of booze,” Nick said quietly. His brow was furrowed and he seemed deep in concentration as he spoke.
“What do you think, Nick? Could it be someone from your pack?” Lucas questioned.
“The golden brown could be how they would describe Rafe, but it would surprise me if they were describing a wildcat, if they'd actually seen a lion,” Nick answered uncertainly. “Black – well that could be José.”
“José?” Ripley questioned. “I don't believe we've met him.”
Nick shook his head resolutely. “He's new. Black panther. Came to the pack after he ran from his own.”
“Reason?” Lucas questioned.
“They were using him for fights, says he didn't want to do it anymore,” Nick supplied. “He joined us about two months back.”
“Is he proving to be a problem?”
Nick's eyebrows lifted. “Hasn't been. Up until now.” Abruptly he stood up, offering Marianne a radiant smiled. “Sorry, Marianne. Have to go and sort this out. We'll have to take a rain check on dinner.”
“You will be here on Saturday, won't you?” Marianne questioned as she reached on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
“Wouldn't miss it for the world.”
“Would you like us to assist?” Lucas questioned.
Nick inclined his head. “Thanks for the offer, but this is pack business. I'll handle it.”
Without saying another word, Nick strode towards the door and Lucas saw him out before returning to my side, dropping down onto the seat beside me.
“What did you think of Nick?” he asked softly, pressing his cool lips against my neck.
“I think he's arrogant, rude, and full of himself.”
Lucas chuckled softly, brushing his lips across mine in a tender kiss. “You'll like him, once you get to know him.”
“Somehow, I very much doubt that,” I announced primly.
Chapter 32: Gerard DuBonet
Saturday morning dawned with a dramatic change in the weather – after days of incessantly raining, the day was dry. Although the sky was still cloudy and heavily overcast, it appeared the rain might hold off for Marianne and Striker's special day.
When I woke, Lucas wasn't anywhere to be seen and the reassuring presence of his arms wrapped around me was missing. I rolled over, discovering a velvety scarlet red rose on the pillow, a small note attached to the stem.
My Charlotte,
I decided to let you sleep this morning and I've headed out with the family to hunt. We will be back in a few hours to prepare for the wedding this afternoon.
There are numerous people working around the house, so I know you are perfectly safe. You may want to dress before you head downstairs.
Rowena has left pancakes for you, they are keeping warm in the oven.
My heart is yours,
Lucas
A tiny smile played against my lips as I ran my fingers over the exquisite copperplate script. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why they'd all gone out this morning, with the house literally filling with humans this afternoon, every precaution had to be taken to ensure there would be no 'accidents'. It was difficult to equate Marianne hunting in the forest with the beautiful bride she would be later this afternoon.
Shrugging the covers off, I glanced out the window and did a double take when I saw dozens of people milling around on the grass outside. Some were carrying tables and chairs into the marquee and enormous pots of lush greenery were being towed on trolleys by others. One group were carrying cartons of alcohol and trays full of glasses and there were two women standing by the side of the marquee, surrounded by buckets filled with thousands of freshly cut flowers which they were arranging into huge urns. Shaking my head incredulously, I grabbed clothes and headed towards the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, I was downstairs, finding the ground floor filled with people. A middle-aged man with a balding head and wearing a chic grey suit spied me and approached, holding his hand out.
“You must be Miss Duncan. I'm Gerard DuBonet, the wedding planner. Mr. and Mrs. Becket explained you were still sleeping upstairs before they headed off to brunch. I was informed you're recuperating from recent surgery, and required extra rest before the wedding this afternoon.
Struck dumb, all I could do was nod as he shook my hand. I realized with a shock that his hand was cold. Very cold. He released my fingers and put his palm lightly against the small of my back when he steered me towards the couch. “Mr. Becket told me you'd be hungry when you came down. I'm afraid we have rather taken over the kitchen with preparations for this evening, so if you would sit here in the living room, I'll have someone bring your breakfast out to you. Would you like coffee?”
I nodded, having the impression I'd stepped into some bizarre fantasy. “Thank you. Cream and one sugar.”
To my amusement, Gerard DuBonet clapped his hands and a young woman of my age immediately ran to his side. “Please get Miss Duncan's breakfast tray and serve her here in the living room. She would like coffee w
ith cream and one sugar please.”
The young woman disappeared towards the kitchen and I flopped down onto the couch, trying to get my head around the morning. Presumably Lucas knew Gerard DuBonet was a vampire – how could he not? But a vampire who was a wedding planner? Each time I thought I might be getting a handle on this strange new life, something came along which turned my confidence on its ear.
Breakfast was delicious, freshly cooked pancakes with maple syrup and whipped butter. I picked at the pancakes as I watched the crowds of people milling around. For curiosity's sake, I began to count heads and gave up around eighty. The whole house was a hive of industry and everyone apparently had a purpose.
Gerard DuBonet appeared at my side, cool and unflappable against the tide of movement surrounding him. “May I take your tray, Miss Duncan?”
“Thank you.”
“More coffee?”
“Please.” I handed the empty cup to him and he smiled warmly. Curiosity nearly got the better of me, but I decided it was crazy to ask this man if he was a vampire. What if he wasn't? What if he really didn't know about the reality in this house? It would be a stupid move on my part and besides, he'd talked about the family going to brunch – if he was a vampire, wouldn't he know they were doing something altogether different to sitting in a restaurant together?
“Is there anything else?”
“No, thank you.” I watched him stride towards the kitchen, tray in hand and just before he went through the doorway, he spied something and handed the tray off to a young woman. Seconds later, he strode past with half a dozen bags of ice balanced in his hands and I grinned with relief. Clearly, his hands were cold because he'd been handling bags of ice – my hands would be just as chilly if I did the same thing.
A girl in her late teens provided me with another steaming hot cup of coffee and I accepted it gratefully, settling back to watch everyone rushing around. Feeling rather relaxed and lazy, I came the conclusion I was actually enjoying myself, although I'd been nervous about attending the wedding, it all seemed quite exciting at this point in time.
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