The Keeping (15 page)

“Uh-huh.” She
winked at him. “I forgot something else, too. No panties.”

Unable to help
himself, Kane growled and picked her up. Setting her on her feet,
he made quick work of divesting both her and himself of clothing.
Clearing his desk top, he laid her on the wooden surface then
leaned over her. He nibbled on her neck and collarbone before
working his way down to her breasts and then her stomach. Pausing
there, he kissed the slightly rounded surface. His child was in
there.

Kane pressed his
ear to Elise’s belly listening intently. Sometimes, he was sure he
could hear its heartbeat, despite the fact that Nadia, their
resident nurse-practitioner, said it was way too soon. He gently
rubbed the skin and whispered “I love you” to the child within.

Feeling Elise’s
fingers combing through his hair, he looked up and flushed, feeling
slightly embarrassed. She was smiling at him tenderly. “I love how
much you love our baby already.”

He surged to his
feet and bent over her, bringing his face close to hers. “I love
his mother just as much.”

“I know.” She
barely managed to get the words out before he captured her mouth
with his.

Soon they were
lost in the throes of passion. Elise’s legs wrapped around him as
he moved within her, responding to her urgings. When he’d first
realized she was pregnant, he had tried to alter their mating,
thinking she was now too fragile for such a vigorous workout. Elise
would have none of it. Their love making, for the present, remained
as wild and as passionate as always. Her moans and sighs of
pleasure matched the rhythm of his thrusts, until they turned into
cries of release. Her body tightened around his and Kane gave a
guttural cry as he too reached his climax.

Afterwards, he
picked her up, grabbed a convenient afghan that was on an armchair,
and wrapped her in its warmth before sitting down to cuddle in his
chair. Elise nuzzled his neck. “Why were you looking so worried
when I came in?”

Kane hesitated to
tell her, but knew she’d find out one way or another. It was better
coming from him. “Someone has found Ryne and is asking about his
pictures.”

Elise stilled her
movements and pulled away, looking up at him with solemn eyes. “The
same person who was here?”

He nodded.

“It could be
totally innocent. She said she was just writing an article about
artists.”

“Would she travel
all the way to Stump River, if that’s all it was?”

Biting her lip,
Elise shook her head. “What are we going to do?”

“Nothing...yet.”
Kane sighed heavily. “Hopefully, Ryne can deal with it and it stops
there.”

“But what if it
doesn’t? What if she’s working with someone? What if they come here
looking for us?”

Kane shifted
uncomfortably, not wanting to say the words, but knowing he must.
“The Keeping is our most important law. Not just for us, but for
our people everywhere. It’s kept our kind safe from persecution and
allows everyone to live in peace. We can’t ignore it just because
it’s inconvenient.”

“Inconvenient? “
Elise pushed away from him and abruptly stood up, protectively
clutching her belly and the unborn child within. “Our lives, the
lives of the pack members...” She choked on the next words. “The
life of our child—those are more than inconveniences, Kane!”

“I know.” He got
to his feet and wrapped her in his arms, rocking her gently back
and forth. “I know. I don’t want our way of life to end. I don’t
want to be responsible for ordering the deaths of our friends and
family.” Kane put his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at
him. He offered what little reassurance there was. “If it comes to
that—if it appears that they will find us—we’ll send as many of the
young away as possible. Other packs will take them in. Just enough
of us will remain behind to make it look real. The humans will say
it was just another cult suicide, and whoever these people are that
are searching for us will be left with no evidence.” Elise
whimpered and he hugged her even more closely. “The Keeping is law.
Our existence remains secret, even if it means death.”

Chapter
11

Mel parked her car
on the main street and turned off the engine. It was Monday morning
and traffic in Stump River was light. A few vehicles were parked in
front of the various businesses; pedestrians strolled down the
sidewalks at the kind of leisurely pace you’d never encounter in
the hustle and bustle of Chicago. For a moment, Mel absorbed her
surroundings, lost in wonder at the differences between the
lifestyle before her and what she was accustomed to. There were no
exhaust fumes, no angry commuters gesturing rudely at each other,
no screeching brakes, no high rise office buildings blocking the
view of the sky. Life here appeared so simple and quiet, almost a
throwback to a different time.

She stared around
for a few moments before focusing on the building directly across
the street—Miller’s Service Station. The low brick building was
white and had a red and blue sign that proclaimed the name of the
owner and hours of business. One set of gas pumps was in the front
and two large bays for repairing cars were located to the side. A
front office with a large plate glass window offered a view
inside—no metal bars to prevent break-ins, Mel noted idly. Someone
was moving about inside, though with the glare from the sun, she
wasn’t sure who. Was it Taylor? Lucy, the waitress, said he worked
on Mondays, so the chances were good that he was in there. Now,
what was she going to do about it? There’d been no message from him
this morning, not that she’d really expected there to be one, but
she’d hoped.

Since he hadn’t
contacted her, she assumed he was still undecided about the
interview. The question was, should she go over there and talk to
him? If she did, maybe she could convince him to agree. On the
other hand, maybe he’d get upset, thinking she was pushy, and flat
out refuse. She furrowed her brow, weighing her options.

When no clear
answer came to mind, she struck the steering wheel in frustration
and then yelped. She’d hit the horn by accident and it was
honking...continuously. Startled, Mel stared at the wheel for a
moment before her brain finally kicked in and she began frantically
jiggling the annoying feature. By the time she stopped the noise,
everyone in the entire two block expanse of downtown Stump River
was looking her way. Even Josh and Beth Kennedy were standing in
the doorway of the Gazette. Giving a shy wave at her temporary
landlords, she sunk down in her seat knowing her face was flushing
with mortification.

Hopefully, the
little incident didn’t make the front page of the paper. After all,
not much seemed to happen in a town of this size. A stuck horn on a
car could be big news. As she hid from view, Mel pictured the
headlines; Foreigner Creates Havoc in Downtown Core. She shook her
head ruefully. Damn, this never happened in a movie when the
heroine hit the steering wheel. Why did these things always happen
to her? Rubbing her sore hand—the steering wheel had been harder
than she’d expected—she reflected that the person in the movie
never hurt their hand, either.

After several
minutes of hiding out below the dashboard, Mel slowly sat up and
looked around. Everyone had gone about their business. Traffic was
moving normally and no one was staring out of their windows
wondering who the idiot in the blue car might be. Relieved to no
longer be the centre of attention, she got out of the car and
headed into the diner. There was no point in sitting outside, when
she could be inside drinking coffee and possibly eating a Danish.
Food could be such a source of comfort, she mused. Besides, since
she’d have a perfect view of the service station, she could put it
on her expense tab as ‘surveillance.’

Five minutes later
she was sitting ensconced at a table, happily munching on a fresh
cherry cheese Danish and drinking a cup of coffee. She’d ordered a
half decaf-half regular mix, since she was trying to cut back on
her caffeine habit and was feeling rather pleased with herself for
her efforts. Eyeing the thick, fresh baked Danish slathered in
icing, she wondered if she should have ordered it with half the
calories, if only such a thing were possible. Still, she had to eat
to keep her strength up, and there were cherries in the pastry, so
that must mean it had some redeeming qualities. Surely at least one
vitamin or antioxidant had survived the baking process. Mel laughed
at her own train of thought; she’d do anything to justify her
favourite foods!

Licking a stray
bit of icing off of her finger, Mel checked out her surroundings
more carefully than she had the previous day. The diner was bright
and clean, with white counters and red vinyl covered seats. Red
checked curtains hung from the large plate glass window, tied back
so as to not obstruct the view of the street. A white board had
daily specials listed on it, and a glass display case showed a
variety of homemade baked goods.

It was only
moderately busy inside the establishment, with just one waitress
and the chef on duty. Mel had inquired about Lucy when she
arrived—she’d liked the waitress when she talked to her
yesterday—but discovered that Monday was her day off. Disappointed,
but not daunted, Mel started up a random conversation with Ruth and
Al, the waitress and the chef, who turned out to be co-owners of
the business as well. Both were sitting at the nearby counter, idly
chatting with customers before the noon hour rush.

By time she was
done with her Danish, she'd learned that the citizens of Stump
River liked Ryne, Bryan, and Daniel. Ruth reported that the local
women drooled over them.

"All three are
definite hunks and very talented lovers, if even half the rumours
can be believed.” Ruth told her in a stage whisper, the thin knob
of hair on top of her head bobbing up and down as she nodded
emphatically. The woman's cheeks were stained pink as if uttering
the words alone were enough to turn her on and she was dramatically
pressing her hand to her meagre bosom.

Al had scoffed at
Ruth's description. "Quit all that foolish talk, Ruth. They're all
'real men,' not like those sissies you watch on your soap operas.”
Al rubbed his bristly chin and leaned back, his elbows propped on
the counter. "Those three fellows are honest, hard-workers. I've
seen them hauling supplies at the lumber yard and they barely break
a sweat. More important, they know the value of silence and don't
go around talking your ear off, like some folks do.” He stared
pointedly at Ruth as he made that last comment. She responded by
hitting him on the shoulder and shooing him into the kitchen to
start heating up the soup for lunch. He complied but not before
pinching Ruth's bottom.

Mel laughed softly
to herself as she listened to the banter between the husband and
wife team. It seemed to be a relationship of opposites. Al was
short, well-rounded and a man of few words while Ruth was tall, on
the thin side and appeared to love a good gossip. They seemed to
bicker quite a bit, but she could tell by the looks they exchanged,
that they cared deeply for each other. Stump River seemed to be the
place to find solid marriages. Josh and Beth, Al and Ruth... She
wondered how many other such couples were in town. Ryne and Lucy?
Were they close to tying the knot? Mel frowned wondering why that
idea had popped into her head.

Probably because
the man in question was right across the street from her, she
decided. He was putting gas in a car for a little old lady. From
her vantage point in the diner, she watched him chatting away to
the customer while providing basic service to her vehicle.

It was hard to
miss how his black t-shirt clung to his torso, giving an excellent
view of his muscles as he moved his arm back and forth while
cleaning the windshield. When he bent over to check the oil, Mel
saw how his tight rear-end filled out his low-slung jeans—no
plumber’s crack there, she chuckled to herself.

He stood up and
laughed at something the woman said. The whiteness of his teeth was
apparent even from across the street and Mel was sure she could see
a twinkle in his amazingly blue eyes. An unexpected wave of desire
hit her and she blinked, realizing that she was actually leaning
forward, as if trying to get closer to the man. Possibly sensing
someone was watching him, he looked up, staring straight across the
street at her.

Mel drew back and
snatched up the menu from the table, pretending rapt interest in
its contents. Surely, he hadn’t seen her ogling him? She peeked
over the edge of the menu, and then hid again. He was still looking
her way! Mortified at being caught acting like a school girl with a
secret crush, she wondered why she was so intent on checking out
his physical attributes. Yes, he was good looking, but she was here
to do a job, and it didn’t include lusting over the man. Perhaps,
it was all hormonal. It had been quite a while since she’d been
with someone, so of course, a hot looking guy would seem even more
appealing than usual, regardless of his personality.

Briefly glancing
across the road, she experienced a mixture of relief and
disappointment, when she noted that the customer had left, and
Taylor was no longer outside. She exhaled, blowing a stream of air
upwards, causing her bangs to ruffle in the breeze. Fanning herself
with the menu, she regained control of her wayward thoughts and
focused on her real purpose—surveillance.

Sitting up
straighter in her seat, she took a calming breath, straightened her
clothes, and then casually glanced across the street. Darn! He was
still inside and she’d wanted one more peek... No! Stop that. He
was the next best thing to an interviewee, and getting involved was
never a good idea. It skewed your perception of what the person
told you during the interview. Besides, Taylor was involved with
Lucy and Mel didn’t poach on another woman’s territory.