Fox, Morgan - Craving Silence [Cowboys and Werewolves] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (12 page)

Inhaling a deep lungful of air, she went in pursuit of her lusty lycan and prayed his libido would remain in check long enough to save both their lives.

* * * *

Lance scowled. “What’s a council?”

Walking down the narrow hallway, Silence kept her eyes looking straight ahead as they moved deeper into the council chambers. “It’s a governing body of lycans who make sure our world and the human world don’t clash.” She glanced at him from over her shoulder and said, “They also decide the punishment for lycans that don’t follow the rules and are seen as a threat to our kind.”

Lance’s brows sprung up. “They sound scary.”

For a man who was built tough as nails and who wasn’t afraid of a hard day’s work, he sure did look like an adorable little boy when he said things like that.

Stop doing that.

She shook her head, trying to keep herself from getting emotionally attached. Things between them were hard enough to handle without her actually falling for him. She barely knew him. Was that even possible?

“You should keep that in mind when you meet them.”
For both our sakes.

“Meet them. Is that where you’re taking me?”

Silence studied the room. The boardroom used to conduct council business, the one she and Walker had snuck through earlier, was dark and musty. She flipped the switch and the lights buzzed with electricity, illuminating the once shadow-filled room.

“Yes, and it looks like we’re the first to arrive.”

A sudden change in the air had Silence gripping hold of Lance’s arm to pull him back and out of the way. The room was instantly engulfed with a blurry haze of motion. Silence knew the council members were arriving in lycan fashion, moving so quickly that the human eye was unable to detect them completely. A second later, seated at the table were the council members dressed in their traditional white robes, each staring at her as if they’d caught her stripping naked and doing unspeakable things on the table.

Silence swallowed the lump in her throat. Generally, she was also seated at the table, not the one doing the talking, but the one doing the listening and assisting with problem solving. This position she found herself in was a tad overwhelming. “Silence, Councilman Dalton tells us you think we have a group of rogue lycans that want”—Councilwoman Shaw eyed Lance as if placing each detail of his face to memory—“Mr. Hickman.”

“Yes, I do believe that there is a powerful lycan among those rogue lycans that is interested in Lance for reasons I’m unsure of.”

“What is it you’d like from us?” The condescending tone in her voice sent Silence over the edge. What was going on with the council? Why didn’t they understand how dangerous this situation could be if it wasn’t handled properly?

“Isn’t it obvious?” Silence hissed. “I need your help. We were attacked last night. They used explosives to try and infiltrate the clinic.”

“Yes, but once you arrived, all was well, was it not?”

The hair on Silence’s arms stood on end. “How did you know that?”

Councilwoman Shaw arched a reddish brow. “It’s my job to know such things.” She shifted in her seat, casting a blank gaze to the rest of the council. “We’ll convene on the matter,” she said then turned back to Silence. “You’ll have our answer on what to do next before nightfall.”

A wall of unrest slammed down around her. Had they lost their minds? What the hell was going on? “Wait, that doesn’t give us much time to prepare.” Before Silence could ask another question, the council members disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. The room felt more ghostly than ever.

She stared after them, completely taken off guard by the way the council had conducted themselves. Never in all the time she’d been a part of the council had a meeting gone so…strangely.

Lance was the first to speak, asking, “What was the point of me being here? They didn’t seem to want anything from me except to stare at me. I don’t get it. Something’s very strange about this whole ordeal.”

“You got that right,” she said. “Something is very strange, and I think we’ve got more on our hands than we once thought.”

Warning tingles sprung out all over her body as she pondered what was going on in her little town. Something was very off—dangerously off.

If only my father were here to help me. He’d know what to do, and I bet he’d know who this bastard was terrorizing us.

Taking a deep breath, Silence straightened her spine, realizing once again, she was left to take matters into her own hands. Unfortunately, she had to do a little research on her own, and that meant talking to the most elder person in their community—a person who knew about the lycan situation and wouldn’t run their mouth.

Walker’s grandmother was the only woman she could trust. Grabbing Lance by the arm, she yanked him back down the hallway. She had to find a safe place to stash him while she visited Mrs. Reed. She only prayed she wouldn’t run into Walker when she did.

Chapter Nine

Walker pressed the doorbell and waited patiently. He’d come to terms with what had to be done and prayed that it wasn’t too late. He was at a loss. The one thing he did know was that leaving Silent Falls was not an option. There was too much at stake.

Handing a gift-wrapped Silence over to Lance Hickman was the last thing he intended to do. He was also not about to let the town he loved and the people he cared about fall victim to a terrorizing group of lycans. He’d fight for the woman he’d spent his life pining over, and defend the lands he loved, even if it killed him.

The white-painted wood door slowly opened, and there stood a sweet, tiny-framed, gray-haired old woman that he believed hung the moon. He smiled as best he could and said, “Nana, I need your help.”

He stared into her concerned eyes. Her voice sounded frail as she told him, “Come inside, and tell me what’s got you so upset.”

Walker stalked into the den, his shoulders slumped forward as if the weight of the world was pressing down upon him, and he actually felt like it was. He hoped, more than anything, that his grandmother had the answers to his questions. He prayed she could reverse the spell.

“Nana, I want my wolf back.”

The door closed with a solid thud. “You what?” she breathed.

He twisted his hands together as if wringing them out like a towel. “I want to be who I was always meant to be. I want to be like my grandfather—a wolf.”

For a long moment, his grandmother gawked at him. Her eyes fixed on his like deep, penetrating thorns. Then she moved around him, shouldering her way past him, and settled into a chair at the head of the dining table. Slowly, she sipped a cup of something steaming. Walker held his breath as he waited for her response. He’d had a deep suspicion that his grandmother would not be pleased that he wanted to be a wolf like his grandfather. Nana had long ago made it clear that she never thought much of the lycan ways. She never said why exactly, but he had a feeling it had everything to do with his grandfather’s passing.

The cup she held clinked against the saucer as she placed it down. Gazing up at him, she questioned, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain sheriff, would it?”

Walker could never in a million years lie to his grandmother. She’d been his world even before his mother died. She might be the mother of his rotten-ass father, a man who cared more about his alcohol consumption than his family, but Annabel Reed was still a decent and good woman with a heart that swelled around him.

He nodded with a smile and said, “At first maybe, but—“

His words froze in his mouth. They simply wouldn’t come out. He didn’t know how to explain what was going on inside him. Since the moment he’d made love to Silence, he felt different, like there was something burning inside his chest and it was screaming to be unleashed—a flaming energy that consumed every fiber within his body.

He placed his cowboy hat on the wall hook in the foyer and ran a stiff hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to describe it. I feel altered in some way, like I’m not myself.” He groaned, frustrated with his lack of understanding over his own body. “Nana, I’ve claimed my mate, and since that time—”

“You have fire in your belly?” The words moved from her mouth like she was the one experiencing the sensation.

A chill washed over every inch of him. The words his grandmother had chosen to use were the exact ones he was prepared to say. He nodded again, and his mouth hung open just a little. Finally, he asked, “How did you know?”

She waved her hand through the air. “Oh, Walker, the first time I was with your grandfather, I felt the same way.”

He sighed, suddenly no longer intrigued by his grandmother’s words. She was a romantic at heart, but he thought of all people she would understand him best. “Nana, it’s not love in my gut I’m feeling. I mean, yes, I’m in love with Silence, but it’s different than that.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of what it is, my boy.” She tapped the tabletop, beckoning him to sit beside her. “You might want to have a seat for this.”

Walker pulled out the chair and sat down as instructed. His grandmother may have suggested he find a seat, but really what she was telling him was he had no choice. Annabel Reed may have looked tiny, but there was all spunk and spirit in the meek, little frame.

“You’ve found your mate as both a lycan and a witch, Walker.”

The palms of his hands were sweaty, and his stomach fluttered with nerves. “Come again.”

Leaning her folded arms on the table, she said, “Darling, I’ve never kept secrets from you. I’ve always been honest about what I am and what your grandfather was. Did it ever occur to you that even though your parents weren’t lycans that they could’ve been like me?”

He sucked in a breath. “My parents were witches?”

“Yes, and I believe that you are not just a werewolf, but a witch as well. You are a hybrid in so many ways, Walker. The powers you could harness would be unstoppable and very dangerous if the wrong person every found out.” She reached to take his hand in hers, and the connection left a warm tingle gliding up his arm. “Witchcraft is not like anything else supernatural. Vampires and werewolves know who and what they are pretty much right off the bat, but witches…they come into their powers at any given time.” She smiled softly. “Walker, your mating with Silence drew out your magic, and that is the fire you feel in your gut.”

He gawked at his grandmother, waiting for her expression to shift to humor, but when it didn’t, he rasped, “Holy shit.”

His grandmother scoffed and said, “Exactly.”

Walker grasped his grandmother’s delicate hand a little tighter. “I’m sorry, Nana. I didn’t mean to speak like that in front of you.”

She patted his hand in a comforting gesture and then said, “No apologies needed, Walker. I bet you’d fall off your chair if you heard what shot out of my mouth when my mother sat me down for a talk just like you and I are having now. When I found out I was a witch, I accidently set fire to the drapes in the kitchen.” She covered her mouth and giggled. “Needless to say, your great-grandmother wasn’t very happy with me.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “No, I’m sure she wasn’t.”

The joy-filled expression she’d just had faded as she asked him, “Walker, are you sure this is what you want? The power you harness inside you would be so intoxicating. Managing those powers will be difficult and would require a lot of practice and patience. You would have to learn how to use them and not allow the power to rule over you.” She instantly looked worried. “It’s addictive, the power that comes from being a witch. I’ve seen many get lost to its allure, and they were never the same.”

“That won’t happen to me, Nana. I have you to teach me.”

She kissed his hand. “So this is what you want?”

“Yes, Nana, it is.”

“Before I undo the spell that is keeping your lycan and most likely your true witch powers bonded, there is something you should know.” She swallowed hard. “Walker, your mother was once—“