Lone Wolf (10 page)

Beck despised failure. Since his teenager years, he’d taken steps to ensure success. No matter what it took, no matter how hard the struggle, he would prevail.

So here he stood, listening to the wind, struggling to hear a tiny cry, desperately trying, and…nothing.

Nothing. Completely unacceptable. Experience had taught him if he tried hard enough, he’d achieve results.

Yet he heard only silence.

Come on, he railed silently. Give me something, he cursed, without moving his mouth. He had no magic, yet still, he dared to hope for something. Something, anything. For Marika’s sake. And his.

Instead, he got nothing. That, and the steady drumming of his heartbeat in his ears.

Damn. Hope shriveled up inside his chest. Praying his daughter was still alive, he felt like a complete and utter failure. Worse, he had to open his eyes, look the woman he loved in the face and tell her he hadn’t succeeded.

The woman he loved?
He sucked in his breath, shocked. Whoa! Where had that come from?

Rattled and hating that he’d allowed himself to become so distracted, he worked hard to slow his racing heart and even out his breathing before he gave Marika the bad news.

Then, just as he was about to concede defeat, to shut down his mind and heart and soul, he heard the softest sound, a whisper only, calling a name.

Mama.

He froze, unable to breathe. It was her. Dani. This time, crying for her mother instead of demanding he find her.

Dani. Awkwardly, he tried to comfort her with his mind. She didn’t even know him, and in his isolated former life as a Protector, he’d had zero experience with children, especially one so small. But she was his, his daughter, his baby, his child, his own flesh and blood. He loved her without even meeting her. Loved her with a desperation that both humbled and empowered him. He’d do anything for her.

“Anything, baby girl,” he said out loud.

Using every ounce of his strength, he tried to impart all that love to her, hoping she could relate to that emotion, even though to her he was only a stranger. Her daddy.

When he finally connected to her, mind to mind, he felt surprise, then a child’s innocent curiosity.

Bad man?

“No,” he assured her. “A friend.”

Silence while she considered this. Then,
Find me. Want Mama.

“She’s right here, with me.”

Apparently not believing him, she began to wail, crying for her mother over and over, the cry becoming a scream, then a shriek.

Beck struggled against her pain, fighting the urge to double over and cover his ears.

“I. Want. Mama.”

In response, the wind picked up, gusting fiercely, sending leaves and dirt spinning around them.

“Dani?” Marika cried out, letting his shoulder go and spinning in a slow circle. From the desperation on her face, he knew she couldn’t hear. Anguish deepened her voice. “Dani, it’s Mommy. Where are you, honey?”

He listened for another sound, another cry, anything. But even as the wind died as quickly as it had come, he knew. Dani was gone. His limited contact with their child had vanished.

But still, he’d been able to reach her. And having done so once, maybe he could do it again.

“What happened?” Leaning in close and peering into his face, Marika clutched at him, his T-shirt bunched in her fists.

“She didn’t—” he began.

But she didn’t want to hear that. “No. I know you heard her. I can feel it in my bones. I want to know what she said, what she’s doing, how she is. Please. Tell me.”

Though he knew the truth would hurt her, he couldn’t lie. “She’s only two. All she said was
mama.
Though she did ask me if I was a bad man.”

Fist against her mouth, Marika nodded. Tears rolled unchecked down her perfect cheeks. “Nothing else?” she managed to ask. “She didn’t give you a clue where she is?”

“No.”

She made a sound, part sob, part groan.

Consequences be damned. Chest aching, he pulled her to him. “Shh,” he whispered into her hair. Gently, he wiped away her tears. “We’ll find her, she’ll be all right, I—”

Raising her face to his, she parted her beautiful lips. “Kiss me,” she demanded. “Kiss me and give me your mind. I want to see what you saw, hear what you heard.”

“If I only could,” he began, only to be silenced by her mouth on his.

“If you can’t do that, then banish this pain,” she murmured.

Though he knew he should resist—she wanted him for all the wrong reasons—the temptation of her moist mouth proved too much. He claimed her lips, devouring her softness. Savagely, she kissed him back, her hands caressing him, making new demands without saying a word.

Ah, desire, slamming into him, roared through his aroused body, insisting he take her here and now and hard and fast and deep.

But no. He fought himself and her. If this was the way it was going to be, he refused to let her take control. Though his blood pounded in his ears, and her skillful touch had him on fire, deliberately he slowed things down.

Slowly, he let himself taste her, moving from her mouth to her skin, kissing the tip of her nose, her salty tears, and finally trailing a path down her neck to the hollow in the base of her throat.

She shuddered and moved against him, urging him with her body. The animal inside him snarled, restless. Beck fought both himself and her, his desire and animalistic nature at odds with his mind. In this he would not be hurried. He’d wanted her too long.

Another startling truth and one he wouldn’t dwell on now. Hell, he could barely even think coherently with her lush body pressed seductively against him.

He let himself touch her, sliding his hand across her silken belly, catching his breath when she writhed against him, inviting more. And hounds help him, he wanted more.

Slowly, slowly. Difficult, even excruciating, when every instinct urged him to take her now. Right now.

She stroked his arousal. Body straining at her touch, he grunted, catching her hand. “No,” he managed. “We do this my way or not at all.”

Eyes dark with desire, she stared at him, finally nodding. Then, he slid his hand down the curve of her back. She caught her breath in an audible hiss. She arched toward him, to him, tempting, so tempting.

Yet he resisted, using a strength of will he hadn’t even been aware he possessed. One glance at her, and he burned. Marika, pale skin gleaming like cream in the late-afternoon light, shivering with desire at his touch. Her perfect shape taunted him. Never had he craved anything, anyone so badly. Every instinct, ever nerve and pore and cell urged him to make love to her, to find that remembered pleasure in her body, again and again and again. Now.

Still, one single step from redemption, he held back. Perversely, he needed more. “Marika, stop.”

She looked up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire. “What?”

“I don’t want to be your escape from harsh reality or an entertaining way to blow off steam.”

“Then what do you want?” she cried, her voice echoing her frustration.

“I want it all. I want you mindless and quivering, burning for me, as desperate to feel me inside you as I am to be there,” he growled. “I want to be the center of your universe, if only for this moment, as vital to your survival as you are to mine.”

She went still, her gaze searching his. “That sounds like you want me to be your mate.”

Mate.
That word again. Over the years, the word and Marika had become synonymous, though he’d buried the thought deep inside his psyche.

“Don’t do this to me,” she cried. “I can’t handle this right now. Our little girl is missing.”

She was right. He shared her pain.

“Later, then,” he promised, and kissed her, shoving aside his aching heart so he could be what she wanted, what she needed.

Mindless passion. Maybe that’s what they both needed.

Kissing her deeply, he felt the restlessness inside him go quiet as she gave herself over to him.

So he took his time, making his touch both gentle and rough, exploring her body with his hands. Her nipples, taut beneath the soft cloth of her T-shirt, begged for his touch, his mouth.

She moaned, groaned, writhed beneath his touch. He knew how to stroke her, remembered where she liked to be touched. Head back, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire, she called his name in a broken whisper, pleading.

When her small hand closed around him, already aroused to the point of exploding, he knew he could resist no longer.

This time, when she slid her hands under his T-shirt, he helped her lift it. They both removed their clothes, both helping and hindering each other in their eagerness.

Finally, when she was naked, he took a moment to drink in the perfection of her lush, sensual body, before crushing her to him and claiming her mouth again.

This time, his kiss was urgent, hungry. And she kissed him back with a demanding eagerness that seared him.

When she climbed across his body to straddle him, he helped her, marveling at how her skin felt like both fire and ice. Then she slid her center down over him, burying him deep inside her, and he forgot how to think about anything else but her.

Marika. Her name on his lips, echoing with each beat of his heart, with each thrust of his body. Marika. Marika. His. Only his. His Mate.

She gasped, her body clenching around him. Sweet agony. He held himself back as long as he could, his soul tearing apart piece by piece until finally, he gave himself over to sensation and shattered.

He held her while their breathing quieted and his heartbeat returned to normal. Held her as if oblivion would stay with them, aware in the corner of his mind that they couldn’t escape forever.

Still, they clutched each other close, taking pleasure, taking comfort when they could, not knowing when or if they’d get to do so again.

Meanwhile, inside, his wolf clamored to break free. Sex and strong emotions did that sometimes. “I need a few minutes to change,” he told her. “My wolf needs a break.”

“Go.” She waved him away. “I need some time alone to think anyway before we get back on the road.”

As soon as he reached the first twisted set of trees, he shed his clothes, dropped to the ground and let the change rip through him.

The instant he became wolf, he took off running. He ran like the hounds of hell chased him, ran as if he could escape the past three years, part of him wishing he could stay wolf forever. Animals were free of complicated emotions and fears. They hunted, ate and slept and, when they woke, did it all over again. This wasn’t the first time he’d identified with those the Pack called Ferals and it would no doubt not be the last.

Finally, he killed a wild hare and ate, using a small, running stream to wash the blood from his fur.

Then, exhausted, he padded back to the spot where he’d left his clothing. Changing back to human, he dressed silently, wishing his changing to wolf had been able to ease the knot in his stomach.

Man again, he still had to face what he’d done. Now what? Dragging his hands through his hair for what felt like the hundredth time, he mentally gave himself a kick in the butt. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Things were complicated enough. What had he been thinking, making love to Marika?

Thinking? Right. Problem was, neither of them had been doing much rational thinking at the time.

Returning, he found Marika where he’d left her. As he walked up to her, the cell phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number showing in caller ID.

Opening it, he struggled to sound normal as he said hello.

It was Brigid.

“What do you want?” he snarled, every fiber of his being going on instant alert.

“I’ve had a vision and I now know where Dani is,” she said. “If you want to find her, you’ll do exactly as I say.”

S
tretching languidly, Marika watched rage flash across Beck’s chiseled face as he listened for what seemed like an eternity.

“Go to hell,” he finally said, then closed the phone, disconnecting the call.

“That was Brigid,” he said. “She claims to know where we can find Dani.”

Though instant hope leaped inside her at his words, she shared his skepticism. “Now she suddenly knows? How?”

“She claims to have had a vision.”

“Since the gathering? If that’s true, why’d she only talk to you? You’d think she’d ask for me.”

His gaze searched her face. “Could you sense if she was lying?”

Sitting up, she lifted one shoulder. “Who knows. I’m not as certain that I have as much magical ability as you think I have. What did she want us to do?”

“That’s just it. She’s still playing games. She also said she has Addie’s sister, so she told me not to waste time going to Alpine. She wants us to go back to her temple.”

“She doesn’t want us to go to Alpine. There must be a reason.”

“Yeah. And she knew we’d talked to Dani.”

Marika gasped. “How?”

“I don’t know. She must be able to tap into it somehow.”

“No.” She got to her feet, her naked body a glorious sight. “She can’t. If she could, she wouldn’t need to capture the parents. Come on, let’s get going. Let’s get to Alpine before she does, assuming she hasn’t gotten Addie’s sister yet.”

“I agree.” Silently, she dressed. As they walked back to the truck and got in, he asked the question that had been on his mind since they’d made love. “Do you think anything will come of this?”

“Come of…you mean, of us making love?”

“Having sex,” he corrected. “Yes, that’s what I meant.”

His insistence on changing the phrase was telling. Three years ago, he’d been the one who’d insisted on keeping things casual. Now, without actually saying the words, he was telling her not to take things too seriously. She supposed she couldn’t blame him. After all, she’d kept the existence of their child secret from him for two years.

“Are you worried I’ll get pregnant again?”

He shot her a glance. “Are you?”

Forcing a laugh, she shook her head. “No. I’m a vampire. I think that what happened before was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

“Do you? Biology being what it is, if it happened once, it can happen again. I think we’d be foolish to think otherwise.”

The thought of another child with Beck made her dizzy. She took a deep breath, willing her voice steady. “True, I guess. If we, er, do that again, maybe you’d better use protection.”

He lifted a brow but didn’t comment.

“Oh, and Beck, about the other,” she rushed on, feeling slightly foolish. “Don’t worry. Just because I said we made love doesn’t mean I suddenly think I’m in love with you.”

He blinked. “I wasn’t worried.” He sounded supremely confident. “I know you, even after all this time apart. You’re like me. You don’t believe there’s any such animal.”

Again he’d managed to shock her. “You don’t believe in love?”

“Nope.”

“You’ve never been in love, not even once?”

An inelegant snort escaped him. “No. I told you, I don’t believe in it.”

He was lying. She knew it in her bones. And, though she also knew she should leave it alone, she persisted. “Juliet told me all shifters have a mate. It’s just a matter of finding the right one. Maybe you haven’t met her yet.” As she spoke, she felt a pang of grief at the idea that someone else could be his mate.

“Soul mates? So they say.”

“Is that a note of cynicism?”

“Definitely,” he said, unapologetic.

Falling silent, she listened to the faint sound of him breathing, wishing she could find the right words. But then, he’d think she was a fool. Hell, maybe she was.

“What about you?” he asked. “Have you ever been in love?”

In love. Suddenly flustered, she looked down at her hands. “You have to realize, I’ve been alive for centuries.”

“Are you stalling?”

“Maybe.”

He flashed a grin, dazzling her. “It’s okay. I’m sure there must have been several over the years.”

Several? She’d believed herself in love many times, and when she tried to remember their faces, all she could see was one man. Beck. She’d never met anyone who made her feel the way he did. Nor would she now. He was the father of her child.

The silence stretched out while she pondered.

“Answer the question.”

“I’ve thought I was in love, yes.” With him.

His expression was suddenly serious. “Then what happened?”

“Life got in the way.”

Realizing that, for whatever reason, how she answered was important to him, she thought long and hard about the rest of what she’d say. There wasn’t any way he’d realize she was talking about him. “We went our separate ways. I think we always sort of thought we’d get back together, but it never happened.”

He nodded, then concentrated on the road.

“Brigid’s dangerous,” he said, changing the subject. “You need to understand that. Whether you perceive her as a threat or not is beside the point. After that scene back there at her meeting, there’s no way we can even remotely believe she wants to help us.”

Swallowing, she pushed away the hurt. Forcing her self to return to reality was necessary. “I did warn you.”

“You did.” He gave a grim nod. “But this is more than that. I’m not sure what happened, why she told you that she couldn’t train you, but you had the power to deflect her spell.”

Since she couldn’t disagree with this, she nodded. “I’m not sure how I did that, but it worked out.”

“And Brigid will not have liked it. I think she’s running scared, afraid of losing the iron grip she seems to have over all the vamps. I don’t think she’s ever come up against someone with as much power as you before.”

Here he went again. She sighed. “Beck, while I’d love to believe I’m some superpowerful vampire witch, I’m not. Brigid herself did the assessment. I came out subpar on all categories. I had so little magical strength that she couldn’t train me.”

Though the words were painful, she went on. “That was a moment of great shame to me. Brigid rarely refuses anyone.”

“Surely you must consider that Brigid wasn’t telling the truth. Especially now. I saw what you can do. If you feel like you have to hide it, then fine, but not from me.”

“There’s nothing to hide. At least that I know of.” He’d given her much to think about.

“Right.” He glanced at her. His dark gaze searched her face, sending a frisson of pleasure through her before he returned his attention to driving. “Marika, from now on, I don’t want there to be any secrets between us, okay?”

Thinking of her feelings for him, emotions that had never really vanished but now grew stronger every second they spent together, she knew she shouldn’t agree.

“Okay,” she said and nodded. “No secrets.”

A yellow road sign flashed past. Alpine, twenty miles. One of the things she loved about this area was the way the burnt grasslands seemed to stretch on forever. And the complete and utter lack of traffic on the wide, well-maintained road.

Just when she thought the silence had grown comfortable, he broke it.

“You know,” he said, his casual tone at war with his serious expression, “when you vanished right after Juliet was killed, I couldn’t help but wonder if you had something to do with her death.”

Shocked and momentarily speechless, she could only stare. “You knew me, know me. How could you even say such a thing?”

“I thought I knew you, but then you were gone.” A shadow crossed his face. “You were the one person who understood how I felt, the single other who might have been able to grieve as intensely as I did. I thought we were…close.”

“We were,” she protested, heart sinking.

His hard stare never wavered from the road. “But you disappeared. No message, nothing. You didn’t even send flowers to her funeral, for hounds’ sake. It was almost as if, as far as you were concerned, Juliet never existed.”

Though she deserved them, his words cut her deeply.

No secrets.

“I wanted to go to Juliet’s funeral. I intended to, actually, but I was busy trying to stay alive. The night Juliet was murdered, when we separated and you went to the bar to meet her, someone broke into our room and tried to kill me.”

He went very still, his eyes narrow. “You’ve never mentioned this before.”

“No.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “It was another reason to be wary of everyone. Plus, I didn’t think you’d believe me. I mean, come on. Why would anyone want to kill me? At first, I thought it was because we’d broken the big taboo and had an interracial relationship.”

“They’re not expressly forbidden,” he protested, steering them smoothly around a wide curve.

“No, but they’re not looked upon favorably, either. You know that as well as I do.”

“Still, that doesn’t explain why you thought I wouldn’t believe you.”

No lies.

“When I learned I was pregnant, I didn’t know how to face you, what I’d say.”

“Then after you’d had our baby, you were too busy avoiding me.” Bitterness colored his voice.

“Yes.” Amazing how much truth hurt. Taking a deep breath, she continued. “Even if I had gotten the courage to find you, to tell you about Dani, I didn’t think you’d believe me. Or, quite frankly, give a damn. After all I’d done to you—disappearing, birthing our child and raising her without you knowing—I didn’t think you’d care.”

Holding her breath, she waited for his reply. And waited. And waited.

Finally, he nodded. “Fair enough. Now, tell me what happened.”

Ignoring the ache inside her, she answered as best she could. “That night, after we made love, you went to Addie’s Bar to meet Juliet, and I took a shower in our hotel room.”

He nodded, his expression emotionless.

“Someone broke into the room. They were waiting for me when I got out of the shower. I fought him, naked. At first, I thought he wanted to rape me.”

“Shifter? Or vampire?”

“Neither. The intruder was human. And, once he began struggling with me, it was plain he hadn’t been told I was a vampire.”

“You killed him?” Toneless, he spoke without inflection.

“No. As odd as it sounds now, I let him live. I drank enough of his blood to satisfy me, and then I let him go.”

Now she saw she’d shocked him. “You made another vampire?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “He couldn’t hurt me, his maker. I never saw him again. So I don’t know what became of him.”

“Why? Why’d you set him free? He tried to kill you.”

Hesitating, she studied her hands.

“Tell the truth,” he urged her. “I’m trying to understand.”

“I don’t know if you will.” Lifting her head, she straightened her shoulders. “After what we’d shared that night, I didn’t want a human’s death on my conscience. Killing him would have sullied our lovemaking somehow. So I fed, then I let him go.”

“Just like that. You turned him and let him go.”

“Yes.”

His dark gaze searched her face. “Then what happened? How did you learn of Juliet’s death?”

“When you didn’t return, I called her cell.”

He went very still. “That cell phone disappeared when she died. No one has ever been able to find it. Who answered?”

“I don’t know. A man. He’s the one who told me, and he laughed when he did. ‘Juliet is dead,’ he said.” Remembered fury and pain clogged her throat. “He laughed, Beck. As if Juliet’s death was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. I knew then I’d find him and kill him.”

“You should have come to me. Let me help you.”

“I intended to. But I’m a Huntress, remember. It’s what I do. So first, I went hunting.”

“And then?” His cold voice matched the chill in his eyes. “Did you find him?”

“I searched for two months without pause, stopping only to feed. Finally, I realized with so little to go on, I needed the help of someone more powerful than me. I went to Brigid, asked for her assistance. Instead, she questioned me about my pregnancy.”

“Brigid knew? Did you tell her?”

“No.” She bit her lip. How to explain what she’d felt, finally sharing the news with one of her own kind? The absolute shock had given way, finally, to joy. For the first time in hundreds of years, she’d felt blissfully alive. Finally fulfilled as a woman.

She was to be a mother, to carry a child in a womb that should have been dead, to nourish it through her own blood, her own body.

A vampire carrying a living child. Hope had blossomed inside her, a miracle on a par with a virgin birth.

She’d quietly rejoiced, and uncertain who to trust, who to turn to, she’d trusted no one. No one would have believed her anyway.

The only thing ruining this complete and utter happiness were the two loose ends.

“Brigid helped me find the man who’d killed Juliet. We ripped him apart limb by limb.”

He went still. “Are you sure? Absolutely, without a shadow of a doubt, positive you got the right man?”

This gave her pause. “I went by what Brigid told me,” she finally said. “I was certain then. Now, I’m not so sure.”

Another silence fell while he digested this. Then, he raised his head and gave her a look so intent, so piercing, she gasped.

“How do you feel about possibly tearing an innocent man apart limb by limb?”

He’d asked for honesty, so she gave him that. “It’s haunted me for a long time. It probably always will.”

“Still, why’d you never try to find me?”

“I did,” she told him, her voice steady. “But Addie said you’d gone underground because of a dispute with the Protectors.”

“That didn’t last forever.”

“I know. Addie’d promised to notify me when you resurfaced. But before she could, Brigid warned me about you. She claimed to have seen a vision of you killing Dani.”

“And you believed her?” His tone harsh, he glared at her. “You actually believed her?”

“Yes.” Bowing her head, she felt ashamed. “I had no reason to doubt her.” Though she ached for his arms around her, this time, he made no move to comfort her, not even a hand on her knee.

When she finally composed herself, Marika finished, telling her story in a voice as flat and emotionless as his had been earlier.