The Alpha's Mate (27 page)

Charles stood beside her and held out his
left hand, palm downward, over Marshall’s chest. It shook as badly
as Marshall’s had the night before. He stayed there for the longest
time with his brother heaving and gasping on the bed.

Elizabeth wanted to scream. How long could
Marshall go on this way? “Charles,” she said, quietly and
reasonably, “He’ll die if you don’t do this. Please, give him a
chance.”

The glow started at his fingertips and spread
to the palm of his hand. Charles closed his eyes and moved his hand
over his brother’s body. “There’s so much,” he whispered, “I don’t
know where to begin.” His voice shook and Elizabeth shared his
fear.

“His lungs, he needs to breathe.”

The glow brightened over Marshall’s chest and
his breathing was suddenly easier. Charles’ breathing was easier,
too. His hand steadied and moved to Marshall’s neck. Doc Palmer had
done the best he could to draw the ragged edges of the tear
together. Now Charles began to work his magic. Having watched
Marshall weave the same magic only a few hours ago, Elizabeth knew
he was healing from the inside out. She watched in awe as the wound
healed.

“You’re doing it,” she whispered.

“Did you ever doubt it?” Charles asked
cockily and winked at her. He used his right hand to draw the
covers down and the healing golden glow ebbed and flowed from the
palm of his hand.

It was over an hour before he finished. In
the end, Charles looked worse than Marshall. He was pale and drawn
when he finally closed his hand into a fist and the golden light
disappeared. When he turned from the bed, he swayed dangerously and
Elizabeth had to catch him before he fell. She tucked herself under
his shoulder and led him to the door.

“Your precious Alpha will recover,” he told
those waiting in the hall. “See if the horse doctor can start an
IV. He needs fluids.” He looked at Henry. “You, too.”

Elizabeth left him leaning against the door
frame and ran back to Marshall. She stroked his hair and softly
kissed his lips. “It wasn’t real. It was everything I dreamed of,
but it wasn’t real.”

Lust, like luxurious houses and expensive
jewelry, was not enough to sustain a relationship. It was another
lesson she’d learned from her mother, though it wasn’t one she’d
meant to teach. Elizabeth didn’t want power or position. She wanted
love. She wanted a man who loved her for herself and not because
some genetic quirk tied them together. She wanted to love him the
same way. With Marshall, how could she ever be sure? She would
always doubt and that doubt would destroy whatever they might have
had. Leaving now would be best for all concerned. Her broken heart
would mend, or so she’d read, and Marshall would be free to find
some other Alpha’s Mate better suited to the job.

“It wasn’t real,” she whispered again, “But
next time, I’ll know what I’m looking for and I thank you for
that.”

Elizabeth closed the door quietly behind her,
knowing there wasn’t going to be a next time. She would have to be
satisfied with the dream.

Chapter 28

The same woman was on the phone when
Elizabeth and Charles walked into the kitchen. She looked up, saw
Elizabeth, hung up without saying goodbye and scurried from the
room.

Charles looked at her and tried to keep a
straight face. “I’m impressed,” he said. He started to laugh. “I’ll
bet your library was as quiet as a tomb.”

Elizabeth laughed with him, but it sounded
false. “It’s the blood.” She lifted her lapel and wrinkled her
nose. “It works every time. Let me get you something to eat.”

She went to the refrigerator to pull out two
steaks and forgot why she was there. She stared at the icy interior
without seeing it.

Marshall was alive. She’d made her small
sacrifice, lost everything she thought she had and then found out
she never had it at all. She wished she’d never come to this
place.

“Elizabeth? What’s wrong?”

“Everything, Charles, absolutely everything.”
She took the steaks from the refrigerator. She didn’t know why. “I
can’t stay here.”

Charles nodded. “Tell me what you need to do
and where you need to be. I’ll make it happen.”

Need to do. The words clicked in her head.
She was doing again what Maggie had accused her of; wallowing in
self-pity instead of doing what needed to be done.

Charles had done what she asked him to and
she would be forever grateful for it, but there was more he had to
answer for. She needed those answers. Elizabeth looked around the
kitchen and thought of the people milling about in the next room no
doubt listening to every word that was said. She headed to the
mudroom and the back door.

“We need to go to the Home Place,” she said,
“We’ll take my truck.”

“Uh, Elizabeth?” Charles was following her
without question, though he’d grabbed the pile of steaks and a
bottle of something that was sitting on the counter. “I saw your
truck. I don’t know what you did to it, but I wouldn’t be caught
dead riding in it. I have my standards.”

“Then give me your keys,” she said
impatiently, “You’re in no shape to drive.”

“Did you not hear me, love? I saw your truck.
As much as I adore you, I will never, ever let you drive my car.
Besides, you’re in no better shape than I am.” He caught the back
of her jacket before she rounded the corner of the house. “Seeing
us leave in the same car as me might not be a good idea.”

“Worried about the rumor mill? My reputation?
You’re way too late. They’ve already drawn their own conclusions.”
She was done with these people. They couldn’t hurt her more than
they already had.

“No sense adding fuel to the fire.” He
dangled his keys in front of her. “I’ll see you there.”

Max and Gwenna caught up with her by the
truck.

“I told you I’d screw it up and I did,” Max
told her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You’ve got to let us explain.” It
was clear she’d been crying.

“Max, it’s okay.” It wasn’t. “I understand
the process.” She didn’t. “But I can’t live with the results.” That
was true. Regardless of the circumstances, these women had been
kind to her and she didn’t want to hurt them. It was a culture
clash, pure and simple, but one she couldn’t live with.

“Don’t hold this against Marshall,” Gwenna
said. She was crying openly. “It isn’t his fault. It was ours. We
called Mr. Begley. We asked him to bring you here. Marshall didn’t
want a Mate, but he needed one. We needed one.”

It was another slap in the face and they were
only proving her point. They were at the root of this betrayal and
Marshall was as much a victim as she was. It wasn’t real.

“I have to go,” she said. Elizabeth pulled
her seatbelt into place and closed the door.

“Where?” Max cried.

“Home,” she said and put the truck in
reverse.

“What the hell happened here,” was Charles’
greeting when she pulled up next to the Mercedes.

“Marshall happened here. This is where he was
almost killed. Saving me.”
And I suspect it’s your
fault.

Elizabeth pushed past him into the kitchen,
noting the screen door hanging from a single hinge and the broken
door frame behind it. She pushed the overturned chair with her hip
until she had enough room to right it and move it into the other
room.

Charles put the steaks and bottle on the
counter and began to sweep up the broken glass with the broom that
sat in the corner. It was the same broom she used to kill mice and
fight off snakes; a symbol of her new life and new independence. It
was a stupid thought and a stupid broom. She had all she could do
not to cry.

“We need to eat,” she said. She had to keep
her mind on the business at hand. They both were exhausted and
needed food; Charles more than she, because he’d expended so much
energy healing his brother.

While she was at the other house, away from
all this, Marshall had been her first priority and she had divorced
her mind from everything else that happened here. Now, looking at
the mess, remembering her terrifying escape and the ultimate
consequences that were its results, she wanted to vent her anger on
the man most likely responsible for it. She clenched her fists and
counted to ten and then counted to fifty for good measure.
Screaming at Charles that this was all his fault would not get her
the answers she needed.

She put on a pot of coffee. There were two
bottles of wine rolling around somewhere on the floor of her truck
and she desperately wanted a glass to soothe her nerves, but she
was too overtired and overwrought and she feared the least bit of
alcohol would make her drowsy and she needed to keep a clear
head.

Charles, however, had no such qualms. He’d
poured himself a glass of the amber liquid from the bottle he’d
stolen. He toasted her with it before he drank. “Roman’s Applejack.
It’s almost as powerful as Ruby’s lightning, but smoother on the
tongue. You want some?”

“No. Thank you. Coffee is what I need, what
we both need,” she said meaningfully. “Set the table would you? The
dishes are up there.” She pointed with her chin.

“Are you going to tell me what this is all
about?”

He took two plates from the cupboard and
opened drawers until he found the mismatched flatware.

“Yes,” she said, “But I need to get my
thoughts in order as well as my house. Let me get some food on the
table and then we’ll talk.”

While she cooked the steaks, with a twinge of
regret that they were meant for Marshall, she could hear Charles
moving around the living room, putting things to rights. She said
nothing when he came and got the broom and returned a few minutes
later with a dustpan full of glass and ceramic. It seemed her few
bits of memories had been shattered along with her life.

She brought the steaks, bread and sliced
tomatoes to the table and poured them both coffees though Charles
had refilled his glass. The meat tasted like sawdust in her mouth,
but she knew she needed nourishment so she ate it along with the
tomatoes and bread. They ate in silence and she was halfway through
her meal before she spoke.

“Why,” she asked, “Did the feelings I had for
you go away? What made them go away? And can I make them go away
with, ah, someone else?”

Charles’ fork stopped halfway to his mouth.
This was not what he was expecting. He set the fork down and stared
at her for a moment.

“Do you know what you are?” he asked
cautiously.

Elizabeth nodded. “An Alpha’s Mate. I’m
genetically preprogrammed to react sexually to an Alpha’s touch. I
don’t have to like him.” She thought of Creepy Eyes and she
swallowed down the urge to run from the room and vomit. “He doesn’t
have to like me. It just happens. We’re puppets dancing on a
chromosomal string.”

And this was the lemon juice poured over the
open wounds of her heart. She hadn’t changed at all. She cut the
strings of one puppet master only to find herself attached to
another.

“Did Maggie tell you this?” he asked and when
she shook her head no, said, “I didn’t think so.” He took a drink
from his glass and blew out his breath. “I shouldn’t be the one to
explain this to you.”

“I’m getting tired of hearing that,” she
said. “Right now, you’re the only one available. Explain.”

He shook his head. “It’s more complicated
than that.”

She could tell he was struggling for words.
“First, it’s only unmated Alphas. Once an Alpha is mated, he has no
interest in anyone else. Second, think of yourself as the
receptacle of the Alpha’s lus… feelings. No sexual innuendo
intended.” He thought for a second. “Although it does seem to
apply.” He grinned.

“Not funny,” she said. His bad boy charm had
its allure, but not here, not now. “Get on with it.”

“Okay, bossy woman. The strength of your
reaction is in proportion to his need or want for a Mate.” He
waited for her to digest the information.

“So it has nothing to do with the power or
the strength of the Alpha.” She was thinking of Marshall versus
Creepy Eyes.

“Certainly not.”

Charles looked offended and she almost
smiled. She’d questioned his manhood or wolfhood. Whatever. At this
point, his feelings weren’t relevant.

“You didn’t really want me, or I should say
an Alpha’s Mate. That’s why I didn’t feel it as strongly from you
as I did from… others. Right?”

“Others? Who else besides…?”

“I ask the questions. You answer them. You
didn’t really want me. Right?”

“All right, guilty as charged.” He cut
another piece of meat, chewed and swallowed, before he continued.
“I ran into Eugene. Quite by accident, at least on my part. He said
he thought he’d found my brother a Mate and then he told me about
you, about your background and where you were from. He said the
chances were slim, but you might not be able to adapt to life in
Rabbit Creek. If that were the case, would I be interested in
meeting you?”

He looked a little guilty, like the boy
caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. “I’m not really
looking for a Mate right now. None of my pack are mated, so there’s
no real reason to settle down and I enjoy the clubs and the
company…”

“The single life. I get it. If you weren’t
interested, why did I get those feelings from you and why did they
stop? Why did you seek me out in the first place?”

“Curiosity?” He grinned and when Elizabeth
didn’t respond, his face fell. “All right. I came down here to
wreak a little havoc in my perfect brother’s life.” He took another
swig from his glass. “But then I found that I liked you. I was a
little interested. You were cute. And then I found out that you
were smart…” Charles looked away from her. “… and wise. And I
realized it wasn’t a game and I was going to hurt you as much as
Marshall. So I decided to stop.”