“Where does Clinton live?” Scott asked. “I’ll need a few hours of sleep before I go, but I’ll go to him first thing in the morning.”
“I’ll show you.”
At first, Scott didn’t think he had heard her correctly. It almost sounded as if she thought she would be coming with him. That was impossible for countless reasons, chief among them the fact that Clara, whoever she was, could be a danger to Madison, although Scott’s own feelings came in at a close second. Being around her made him hope for things that could never be. Keeping his distance from Madison these past months had become a matter of self-protection.
“I’m coming with you,” Madison clarified.
“The hell you are!”
She shrank back into her chair, but before he had a chance to think he had won, she did something that she had never done in his memory. She looked him straight in the eyes. Her scent had shifted slightly with the gesture, the tang of fear not gone but offset by something else. Determination?
“This is pack business,” Scott said.
Didn’t she understand? He couldn’t be alone with her. At first, after that terrible night, he’d thought she just needed time. That she would eventually forgive him, if for no other reason than because he’d had no other choice and he had saved her life. But instead she’d gone straight into the arms of another man and every time she saw Scott, every time she looked at him as if he were the devil himself, he died a little more inside.
“He’s my brother, and he’s afraid. I need to be there for him.”
Her brother would go well beyond fear by the time this was all over; having someone he loved alongside him would help, but only if she had the strength to stay with him. “You do understand that if he pulls through this, it’s going to be as a werewolf?”
“Y-yes.” She looked away for a moment, then seemed to realize what she had done and looked right back. Her eyes contained determination and that loyalty he so admired. “I’ll pay you.”
“I don’t need money.”
Madison glanced around his tiny, two-bedroom house dubiously. He couldn’t blame her for her analysis; many saw the size of his holdings and believed as she did, but he had little need for material goods. He lived simply because he chose to, not because he had to, and therein lay a world of difference.
“Something else then,” Madison said, leaning forward. The new position gave him a better view of the cleavage just visible above the neckline of her t-shirt, a sight that was all the more alluring because he knew she hadn’t done it intentionally. She probably didn’t even realize how those words and that posture would affect him.
“You’re not safe with me.” He could feel himself caving, though. He wasn’t that worried about his ability to keep her safe, and he knew from experience that new wolves transitioned better if the people they had loved in their former lives didn’t reject them.
“If you were going to kill me, you’d have done it two years ago.”
“Then maybe I’m not safe with you,” Scott said.
She just stared at him, like she didn’t have a clue how she affected him. Was it possible, after all this time, that she didn’t know? That fear had blinded her so completely? Then again, he had been keeping her at arm’s length, knowing how she felt about him. Knowing he didn’t deserve her.
Not for the first time, Scott wished his intuition would help him where Madison was concerned. It was a powerful gift most of the time, but it had never been good with emotions which were, after all, somewhat unpredictable and illogical. The only thing his intuition had ever consistently told him about Madison was that she would be an ideal mate for him; it had not assured him that he would be half as good for her.
“Look,” Scott said, “I’m not saying you can’t help your brother. He’s going to be terrified, but he’s also going to be a werewolf. Like me.”
“I know.”
“If you abandon him halfway, it’ll make things worse.”
She actually scowled at him. “Clinton is the only family I have left. I’ll love him no matter what.”
Looking into her eyes right then, he thought maybe she would. Or maybe he just wanted to believe that, for Clinton’s sake if not his own. The truth was, her fears about werewolves weren’t unjustified. Scott was a killer; she’d seen that with her own eyes, and she didn’t know the half of it.
“Fine, you can come.” He only hoped he wouldn’t end up regretting it.
Chapter 3
MADISON WAS ALONE WITH SCOTT, AND the full moon would rise in just under twelve hours, at 6:56 pm. She’d looked it up before leaving, and she had a mental countdown going in the back of her mind. Springfield was two hours away, so a four-hour round trip, plus however long it took to collect Clinton... There was plenty of time. Really.
She still couldn’t believe her daring, both in going to see Scott in the first place and in forcing him to take her along on this trip. Cassie had once told her that she had an “inner core of courage” that surfaced when something really mattered, but even Cassie had to admit that most of the time Madison was a mouse. She had never stood up for herself when her peers had bullied her in school, when her adoptive father had betrayed her, nor when her fiancé had abandoned her.
But Madison had defied her adoptive father. She had embraced singing, even though it had cost her so much.
As for the man sitting beside her, she had no idea how to handle her tangled fears and desires where he was concerned. She had managed for the past two years by avoiding him whenever possible. That had been difficult at first, but it had grown easier after her engagement and easier still in the last year or so, ever since Madison had learned that Evan Blackwood, Scott’s best friend, was also her half brother. Madison knew that Evan had “settled the debt” she owed Scott, but Evan remained stubbornly tight-lipped about the details of the settlement, and she had never had the courage to ask Scott.
Would avoidance be possible now? Clinton was going to become a werewolf tonight. The reality still had not fully sunk in, though it was beginning to. She remembered Clinton’s voice on the phone, and his fear when he thought she would reject him. She hated that he’d believed it of her, but what else was he supposed to think? He knew more about the night David had tried to steal her soul than anyone else. Not everything – she hadn’t told him that before that night she’d imagined Scott as some kind of romantic hero and had even half fallen in love with him – but all the rest.
She should talk to Scott, open her mind and really learn about werewolves in a way she hadn’t let herself before. But the silence pressing between them felt too solid, and every time she tried to open her mouth to say something, her throat felt impossibly dry.
“You do realize that I’m a werewolf, not a vampire,” Scott said after a time. He sounded agitated.
Madison glanced down. Her fingers, she realized, had been toying with the crucifix she wore tucked beneath her shirt. She had bought the necklace after a series of local vampire attacks and had been wearing it ever since. Now, toying with the pendant was just another in a long line of nervous habits she couldn’t seem to break. Or if she did, another bad habit would take its place. She had spent a year learning not to bite her nails, only to discover she had nearly chewed her bottom lip off in the process. She stopped doing that, and started twisting her hair, breaking the once beautiful strands. She’d cut her hair short and now she was back to chewing her nails, figuring they were at least a less prominent feature than her hair and lips.
“Sorry.” Madison dropped the pendant, then had to talk herself down from chewing on a nail. This was going to be a long trip.
“It wasn’t an accusation. I was trying to start a conversation.”
“Oh,” Madison said. Well, she’d wanted to start a conversation, too. She should follow his lead, but all she could think to say was, “Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing for everything. It’s annoying.”
“Sorry.” Oh God, had she really just said that? If she were Cassie, she
would have played it off like a joke. That sounded like a good idea, so she forced a small smile.
Scott smiled back. “Cheeky.”
It had worked. Madison’s smile grew wider. “Sorry.”
This time, he laughed. He looked so much more human when he laughed. Had she ever seen him do that before?
“It is made of silver,” Madison said. “Doesn’t that count for something?”
“Only if you melt it into a bullet.”
“Telling me your weaknesses? Isn’t that risky?”
“No. Because first of all, it isn’t true, and second of all, you won’t tell anyone it isn’t.”
“What makes you so sure I won’t tell anyone?”
His smile disappeared, replaced by his usual brooding expression. His green eyes grew dark and impenetrable, reminding her of how little she knew about this man. “You wouldn’t do anything to hurt Clinton, would you?”
“No. Of course not.” Madison looked away. So much for her attempt at levity. She shivered, and returned her gaze to the window.
“You know, I’m actually trying to help you. I didn’t have to take you along. Do you think you could try not to be afraid of me, at least until moon-rise?”
Madison’s head snapped back around. “It bothers you that I’m afraid of you?”
“Yes, it bothers me. I-it bothers me.”
Madison stared at Scott’s profile for a long minute, trying to figure out what to make of him. She had tried to see things from his point of view before. Countless times, as a matter of fact. Intellectually she knew he had done nothing to her that hadn’t directly led to his saving her life and even her soul. Emotionally, on the other hand...
There remained so many unanswered questions about that night. She couldn’t bring herself to ask them, but they floated through her mind nonetheless: How had he even known she needed help? Why was he so far from his usual forest so close to the full moon? And why had he stayed away from her afterward? She wanted to understand that most of all, because there were moments when she swore she thought he wanted her. She could be wrong – she had little experience with men and she wasn’t exactly a leggy bombshell like that woman he’d been with earlier in the night – but the way he often looked at her... She didn’t want him to look at her like that; it terrified her, but he had saved her life. And sometimes, she was almost afraid to admit to herself, she liked the way he looked at her.
“Why does it bother you that I’m afraid?” Madison asked instead.
“Why does it-?” Scott turned his head slightly, scowling at her. “What kind of question is that?”
Madison pushed away her instinctive reaction to his scowl. He wasn’t going to hurt her. The wolf inside him wasn’t Scott, he’d said so himself minutes before she’d seen the truth for herself in the beast’s eyes. And Evan had assured her that wolves could only shift at the full moon. It was the only assurance he had ever given her about Scott; mostly, Evan liked to unnecessarily reinforce her fears.
“You’re scowling,” Madison said.
Scott’s lips straightened and he turned back to the road. “I was?”
“You do that a lot.”
“I didn’t realize that.” He frowned. “Maybe I’ve gotten hard. I didn’t used to be that way, but dealing with a pack of werewolves all the time... I guess it’s my turn to apologize.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not.” Scott sighed. “And no, I never wanted you afraid. I just didn’t think there was any other choice.” He paused before adding, “Is there?”
“Yesterday, I’d have said no.”
“And today?”
Madison hesitated. “Today, there’s a werewolf out there who I love and need to find a way to support no matter what.”
“Okay,” Scott said slowly. Then again, “Okay.”
“Maybe we could get to know each other a little better.”
“Okay,” he said again. “Why are you wearing the cross?”
Madison looked down at the cross, which she was once again twisting between her fingers. “I bought it after the vampire attacks a while back, but I like wearing it anyway. I am Catholic.”
“You are?”
“Go to mass every Sunday. Sing in the choir.”
“Huh. I wouldn’t have expected that from Evan’s sister.”
“Half sister,” Madison corrected. “As in long lost and not raised together. My parents were both Catholic. I mean, my mom and my adoptive dad.”
“I’d just think being Catholic would make you think magic was evil or something.”
Madison shuddered. It wasn’t the religion at all, it was entirely Phillip Carter. Father Owen had even said that her voice was a gift from God. Of course her gift wasn’t exactly magic, but Father Owen didn’t know that. Madison still had trouble grasping the difference some days.
“You do have a problem with it,” Scott said. “Is that why you and Evan have been having problems?”
“We’re not having problems, exactly, and no, it’s not the reason.” Madison had never thought of magic as being evil in other people, only in herself. When she thought about the logic there – or lack thereof – it made her head hurt, but didn’t change her feelings.
“Interesting,” Scott said, as if she’d just told him a lot more than she had.
“This is getting awfully personal,” Madison said. “If you’re going to ask me about all this, you should tell me something personal about yourself.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Madison cast about for a subject that wasn’t related to his monthly transformations. She wasn’t ready for that yet, though she knew she would have to be soon. Unfortunately, the only other subject she could think of was almost as difficult to bring up. “Tell me about that woman who was with you tonight. Jessica?”
Scott’s jaw tightened, but he kept his eyes on the road ahead of him. “She’s a bitch.”
“A werewolf, you mean?”
“That too.”
Madison almost laughed. Almost. But she saw from the fixed expression on his face that he was absolutely serious. “You really don’t like her?”
“She’s one of the most selfish women I’ve ever known. She’s not attracted to me, she’s attracted to power. She’s constantly asking me to work magic for her, and she’s in love with my position as alpha. In the few months we’ve been together, she’s already lorded it over the other females in the pack. I’ve had to intercede a couple of times.”
Madison looked straight ahead into the sunrise, trying to figure out why someone like Scott would be with a woman like that if he hated her. It must be the legs. Men went crazy for long, thin legs.
“She’s pretty,” Madison said after a long pause.
Scott snorted. “Not my type.”
“What’s your type?”
He glanced at her, his eyes raking her face and torso, settling for a few extra seconds on her chest before returning to the road. “I like curves.”
Madison’s cheeks went red. Before she could stop herself, she had glanced down at her own chest, which she’d always thought was too big, much like the rest of her body. But Scott couldn’t mean it. He’d only said that to unsettle her. And it was working.
“Anything else you want to know?” Scott asked.
“Why are you with her if she’s not a nice person?”
“I’m not a nice person.” He paused then added, quietly. “I’m not even a person.”
“Oh, Scott.” And for the first time in his presence, Madison didn’t feel afraid. She felt something else entirely.
* * *
She was looking at him as if there were something inside him that wasn’t completely horrible. Damn. He should be thrilled; he’d been waiting for her to look at him like that for years but now that she was, it didn’t feel right.
He took a minute to try to figure out why he felt so unsettled. Since his intuition had never helped him much where Madison was concerned, all he had were hopes an
d wild guesses. He wanted to think Madison had asked about Jessica because she felt jealous, but how could he think so when Madison kept trying to chew her bottom lip off?
If she didn’t stop biting her lip soon he might lose his senses completely and offer to bite it for her. He imagined pulling it into his mouth and soothing away the sting while his hands explored her soft curves. She had the most exquisite body he’d ever seen. Too bad she didn’t know it. If he ever got the chance, he would show her just how beautiful she was.
She shifted under his regard, somehow sensing it even though he kept one eye on the road. She didn’t smell as afraid as usual, more nervous. It wasn’t much, but...
It wasn’t anything. He shouldn’t have started the conversation. He should have been content with uncomfortable, brooding silence. Or turned on the radio. He should do that now, but he didn’t. He definitely needed to change the subject, though, and he was still curious about some of the things she’d said before Jessica had come up.
“Evan said you refused to learn more magic from him, after you mastered the basics,” Scott said.
Madison shrugged. “I don’t have much potential.”
“There are ways to make the most of it. Are you afraid it’s evil?”
Madison started twisting the cross again. “Yes,” she said finally. “Father Owen thinks my singing is a gift from God, but my dad always said singing was from the devil.”
Scott felt his hands tightening on the steering wheel. Everyone in Eagle Rock knew what Phillip Carter had done to the daughter he’d raised. There were few secrets in a small town. “That bastard who sold you out?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you care what he says about you?”
“I suppose I don’t anymore.”
She was lying. He didn’t need his gift of intuition to tell him that, nor did he need it to tell him why. He had asked a stupid question, borne out of the anger he felt for a man who could have betrayed Madison. He didn’t know all the details, but he knew that in the midst of a dangerous feud between two powerful families, the Scots and the Blackwoods, Phillip Carter had told Nicolas Scot that she was the biological daughter of Victor Blackwood. According to Evan, who heard it from Cassie, Phillip even insinuated that Madison had known who her biological father was all along, and that she had been spying. Hot-headed Nicolas, engaged to Madison when it all came out, had been eager to believe that Madison was an enemy; he’d actually held her hostage until his sister, Cassie, had interceded. Scott had felt plenty of anger for Nicolas at the time as well, but a part of him had been too relieved that the engagement had ended to hold onto that anger.
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