Mellizo Wolves (18 page)

* * *
*

Hugh let Valerie run free through the rough, hilly terrain
for a while to get the wildness and call of the moon out of her system. It was
a win-win situation because he was getting the wildness out of his system as
well. He had to use extra care and run deep into the hills because Valerie’s
snowy white coloring made her an easy target. Nothing would happen to his
charge on his watch. He gave a low moan of satisfaction. The mountain’s lower
foothills were dotted with a camouflage of low concealing brush and a
scattering of rocky caves—a perfect refuge for romping werewolves. When he
decided it was time to go back, she balked, so he used his bigger, stronger,
and more dominant nature and little bites to the muzzle to persuade her.

Ahead, Hugh caught the oily smell of the hunters and took a
distant path. When he and his charge finally entered the north boundary of the
Lamont Mansion, he gave a sigh of relief.

It was short lived. When he caught the scent of perfume,
sex, and death, every hair on his body stood on end. He recognized Kat’s
fragrance and prayed he was wrong. As they got closer, he saw her sprawled on a
table boulder, used and discarded, her throat torn out.

Hugh fought to hold back a mournful howl. He couldn’t
chance the hunters hearing and spotting them. His sacred job was to keep
Valerie safe. Valerie whined softly. With tear-filled eyes, he sent her a
fierce look that demanded silence. He wished he could erase this ghastly image
from her young mind.

Finding the mutilated body on the Lamont property meant one
thing—someone was setting his brother up for trouble. If he wasn’t accused of
murder outright, he’d be blamed for keeping wolves on his property and for not
protecting the community.
Or maybe someone knows about me or the girls and
the blame would fall on us.
The result would still be revenge on Damon.

Maybe he should just bury the body, wolf-style, and add
another concealed tragedy to the growing chain of Lamont secrets.

Suddenly, a bullet zinged over their heads. No more time
for indecision. His responsibility was to keep Valerie safe. He herded her
toward the mansion through the heaviest underbrush with a speed accelerated by
terror-driven fear of failure to perform his God-given duty.

Would Angela forgive him for leaving her friend to the
cruel elements? Would he ever forgive himself?

* * *
*

Safely inside the mansion, Rick waited with Victoria for
Damon Lamont to join them. Struggling to hold onto his dwindling control, he
paced the floor, his head full of dangerous memories of her undulating and
writhing on that boulder. Oh, dear lord, then when he rolled in the grass with
her, for a moment, her strong etched face loomed over him, her lupine jaw set
in determination. Sensual lips revealed terrifying protruding fangs. With her
tongue, she touched those dagger-like incisors and growled low in her throat.
It was insane, but he’d felt an exciting lust that came extremely close to
making him blow his wad.

Now, her teeth were ivory white and perfectly even. He had
to admit that, even with fangs, she’d looked sexy as hell. He couldn’t stop
looking at her. Her high cheekbones were flushed a delightful rosy pink, and
the gold flecks in her expressive almond-shaped eyes looked more enticing than
ever. The savage intensity that had glistened in them earlier was gone. But
he’d never forget the musky feral scent or his fight to overcome the attraction
and demand for passion. With all his determination, he had fought the feral
urge. Even now, God help him, he wanted her small waist between his hands,
wanted to smooth his palms down those slightly flared hips, wanted to feel the
curve of her breasts pressed against his chest.

As though Victoria felt his scrutiny, she glanced toward
him and their gazes locked and heat shot through him. “You have to stop looking
at me that way. I told you this can’t happen.” Somehow, this half-wild creature
had totally beguiled him and he didn’t know what to do about it.

Now, with her almost totally morphed back, it was tempting
to believe he’d merely experienced a nightmare. He wondered how she was able to
morph back.

When Damon entered the room, Rick said, “Sir, maybe I’m not
the man for this job. We almost got caught tonight.”

“But you didn’t and—”

Suddenly, Hugh entered with Valerie. Neither of them had
morphed back. Remaining in the room with two fierce-looking wolves took some
getting used to. Victoria had almost totally morphed back. Why hadn’t Valerie?
She was whining softly and Hugh looked ready to kill. Something bad had
happened. Hugh seemed determined to speak. But the only sound that escaped was
a growl.

“What happened?” Damon asked. “Is someone dead?”

Hugh trotted over to a row of framed pictures. He grabbed
one in his mouth and laid it at Damon’s feet. It was of a woman.

“Kat?”

Hugh moaned low in his throat.

Victoria gasped and her eyes pooled with tears.

Damon looked at Rick. “We’ll talk later. I have something
to attend to.”

“Can I help, sir?”

“Stay with my girls and don’t let them out of the house,
and don’t let anyone in.”

“Yes, sir.” Rick felt inept, but a deadly emergency had
occurred and this wasn’t the time to let Lamont down. He looked at the two
werewolves, one almost totally morphed and one still in her feral state. Two
pairs of intense, tear-filled feral eyes stared back at him. If that wasn’t
enough to unglue him, their thick, wild hair finished the job. How the hell was
he going to keep these beautiful alpha she-wolves with him?

Thank God tonight was the last full moon this month. But at
the rising of the next full moon, he’d be faced with trying to control their
lupine behavior. Curiosity had really done a number on him and it appeared even
more possible that it could
actually
kill him.

Chapter
Nine

Damon followed Hugh, still in lupine form, to where Kat had
been dumped. He almost gagged at the smell and bloody scene. He leaned a shovel
against the boulder, kneeled, and prayed for her soul. He stood again and wiped
the tears from his eyes.
Kat, I wish I could have been there for you.
But
where was
there?
Looking at the area around the body, it wasn’t here.
Someone had murdered her elsewhere and dumped her body on his property. What if
the police didn’t see it that way? Dare he trust them to ferret out the truth?
From past experience, he’d say no. It was obvious someone wanted to involve
him. No matter what, this brutal attack would affect the work going on in the
lab, and his daughters’ future. If he just buried Kat, Angela might never
forgive him. If he reported the murder to the police as he should do, the
crucial lab tests would be put on hold, if not thwarted completely, and would
stop or delay discovering a cure for his daughters.

On the other hand, if he didn’t report the murder to the
police and buried Kat, it would destroy possible evidence and the killer would
go free. He wished he had taken time to discuss this with Angela. But he’d
feared if someone else found Kat on the Lamont grounds, the blame would fall on
him and the wolves housed in his lab.

His throat constricted. What about Kat’s longtime
just
for now lover,
Deeto, the guy she called her Italian stallion? He’d cared
for her enough to propose several times. A hasty burial like this might make
the poor guy go off the deep end.
This vicious attack will touch so many lives.

He heard a soft, mournful moan and looked down at his
werewolf half-brother and wondered what he was thinking. He, too, had been a
friend to Kat. And he, too, would be affected by this decision. Hunters would
swarm into the area to kill all wolves, not just the werewolf who did this.
With strong values battling with his relentless determination to save his
daughters, Damon began to dig.

Years ago, he’d buried Hugo while in wolf form after his
other werewolf half-brother had killed him. Was Hugh thinking about that day,
or was his heart too heavy over this current loss? Hugh had risen from the
dead. Had Reeves risen, too? He’d tried to kill Kat in another life. Had he
finished the job in this one? And was the revenge aimed at Kat or him? He
gripped the shovel so tightly his hands ached. If the killer was Reeves, it was
probably both.

If Reeves had risen from the dead, he was not only a
cunning predator, but a supernatural monster bent on destroying all that was
good and pure. Damon thought of his virgin daughters. Whatever the cost, he had
to protect them.

So many secrets were harbored within the walls of the
mansion. Anyone living or working in the house had to know, or at least suspect
that the household operated on secrets. How did he keep this latest tragedy
under wraps?

* * *
*

Angela heard the front door slam and rushed downstairs.
Damon strode into the room like the devil was on his tail. His jeans and boots
were dirt smudged and he carried the dirty white shirt over his arm. His wide
chest glistened with sweat. In two quick moves, he drew her into his arms and
hugged her so tightly she could scarcely breathe. “Damon, what is it?”

He grabbed her arm. “We can’t talk here. Upstairs.”

Fear shot through her. “Is it about the girls?”

He shook his head, as if whatever he had to say was too
painful to utter out loud. But if their girls were all right, what else could
have him this upset?

Once inside the master bedroom, he closed the door and
faced her. “Is Hugh all right?” she asked.

“He’s fine.” He pulled her into his arms again. “Please,
Angela, no more questions until I get this said.”

She heard the agony in his voice and her heart went out to
him. She nodded, reached up, and massaged his neck. Then it hit her. “There’s
been another wolf attack, right?”

His tight, grief-stricken expression revealed his torment.
Tears glistened in his eyes. “Honey, Kat’s dead.”

The room spun around and Angela’s knees buckled. All that
kept her on her feet was Damon’s strong arms. He led her to the bed. “I want to
go to her,” she managed to mutter.

“I buried her.”

She stiffened. “You did what? How dare you make a decision
like that? She deserves a fine funeral and beautiful rites. Deeto will probably
kill you.”

“I considered all that, I swear, but I weighed everything
against the best interests of our girls. We can give Kat a beautiful wake. But
it will have to be kept a secret.”

“More secrets? How can you believe you can keep something
like that a secret anyway?”

“It’s up to you and the girls to understand and cooperate.
I’m doing the best I can with a devastating situation. I cared about Kat, too.”

“Then how could you just bury her like garbage?”

“It wasn’t like that. I got down on my knees and prayed for
her soul, wishing her joy as she passes through the pearly gates. Given the
emergency situation, I buried her with all the humanity and dignity possible.
When I finished, I rolled a huge boulder over the grave to protect it from
invaders. It was the best I could do under pressure.”

Angela sat quietly, glaring at him, unable to accept his
rationalizations for the quick burial. “Damon, this is just another example of
you controlling everything, other people’s feelings be damned.” She wanted to
get away from him, but tonight, she only had strength enough to bury her head
in a pillow and cry her heart out. Kat was gone, brutally, brutally gone.

Damon tried to gather her into his arms, but she pushed him
away. He stroked her back and kissed her hair. “Leave me alone, Damon,” she said
through her tears.

“I’ll go check on our girls. Remember, I did this for them.
They were out there tonight. Someone could have seen one or both of them and
they could have been linked to the attack.”

He rose and left the room, leaving her with a resentment
that had never been completely extinguished and a heart-wrenching sorrow that
seeped through her like spilled acid.

* * *
*

Damon winced as his thoughts threatened to sink deeper into
the emptiness his life would become if he lost Angela over this. What caused
most gaps between them was his need to win in every situation. That’s what made
him a great businessman, but not a great husband. But this time, it had nothing
to do with winning. It had to do with keeping his family safe. Facing death
when he fought Reeves was nothing compared to this dark moment of his soul. A
sharp pain shot straight to his heart.
God help me. I know I acted rashly,
but the thought of exposing my daughters’ affliction to the world and trapping
them in a cursed existence is unacceptable. Lord, help me make Angela see that.

He tightened his jaw against the agony and then opened the
door to the girls’ bedroom. Rick was sitting on a window seat with one leg up,
his eyes masked. Behind him was the golden glow of dawn, finally bringing
blessed relief to Hugh and Valerie. Victoria, already morphed to her human
state except for her wild onyx mane, sat on the bed cross-legged in her red
cotton pajamas with white hearts on them. His heart warmed at her look of sweet
innocence.