The Keeping (45 page)

Ryne tested the
door knob only to find it locked. He considered his options then
decided to just force his way in—at this stage, subtlety wasn’t a
consideration anymore. A glance up and down the hall revealed no
prying eyes, so he grabbed the knob and rammed the door jam with
his shoulder. Not surprisingly, the wood quickly gave way and he
entered her home.

Melody’s scent
surrounded him the minute he stepped inside. He paused and closed
his eyes, inhaling deeply. A low rumble emitted from his chest as
the delicious smell filled his nostrils and nourished his spirit.
His wolf stirred with excitement.
The female! Where is
she?

I don’t know where
she is, he answered himself, just be quiet. He peeked in the
bedroom and bathroom, noting that Lucy had obviously been there at
one point, her scattered clothing, as well as her scent betraying
her presence. A few papers were scattered on the kitchen counter
and he flipped through them. Mostly junk mail, a few bills, nothing
of importance, but...ah ha! On a nearby table, her laptop was open
and still on. He sat down in front of the machine and checked the
start menu for recent activity.

His name leapt off
the screen, as did a certain picture file, which he knew he’d
deleted. Why that little bitch! She’d somehow managed to get more
copies of his pictures. Anger flared as he moved the mouse to open
the file with his name on it. Quickly he scanned the document,
amazed at how much she’d managed to piece together. The more he
read, the more he scowled and by time he reached the final
paragraphs, he was ready to hurl the machine across the room. There
it was in black and white. She knew he’d taken the pictures in
Oregon.

Ryne felt the
colour drain from his face. How many connections and assumptions
had her agile brain come up with? If she knew about Oregon, did she
know about Kane? Did she know that the wolf in the picture was
actually a werewolf? And was she, at this moment, off telling her
boss, Aldrich, that not only was Ryne Taylor a werewolf, but that a
whole pack resided in Smythston? His mind filled with images;
hordes of scientists and TV crews, men with tranquillizers and
guns, gawkers and protestors, all descending on Kane’s pack.

They’d surround
the territory; breach the perimeter, possibly wondering why there
was no resistance. The invaders would approach the deathly quiet
houses, cautiously entering, only to find bodies. Dead bodies.
Strewn about the house. In the bedrooms. In the kitchen. In the
games room where the pack used to gather... Cold lifeless bodies
that would stare with unseeing eyes at the invaders who had
unknowingly precipitated the massacre.

All identifying
papers would have been destroyed. Kane would see to that. The
nameless corpses would be studied to no avail and then buried in
unmarked graves, their identities forever lost amid the swirl of
rumours that would arise. Words such as cult, brainwashing, and
mass suicide would be bandied about. Pictures and stories would be
plastered in newspapers and magazines, across TV and computer
screens around the world...

Ryne’s mind
focused on one image; Kane and Elise lying dead in each other’s
arms, their hands on the small mound that would have been their
first born. He shook his head. Surely Kane wouldn’t allow Elise to
stay; he’d send her away...yet would she go? Not likely. Elise was
devoted to her mate. She’d refuse to leave.

A feeling of fury
and terror such as he’d never known washed over Ryne. This was all
Melody’s fault and he’d make sure she would pay. Pay for each life
that was lost, each pup left orphaned. When his wolf howled in
protest, he ruthlessly crushed it. He was icy cold, his mouth dry.
His brain could barely function. Feeling detached from his body, he
watched as his hand reached for the phone, dialled a familiar
number and brought the receiver up to his ear. His lips barely
responded to his command to speak.

“Kane? Start the
dispersal.”

Chapter
32

After speaking
with Kane, Ryne had searched Melody’s computer, ruthlessly deleting
information. When he came upon Aldrich’s address and the name
Greyson Inc., he made note of it before erasing the rest of the
relevant files. Melody was probably with her co-conspirator at this
very moment. With any luck he’d catch them together. He would deal
with both of them at the same time. Filled with ruthless
determination, he pushed away from the computer, wiping his prints
from the keys before exiting her apartment. In a similar manner, he
cleaned the door handle, just in case. His finger prints weren’t on
file anywhere, but you could never be too careful.

Should anyone have
cared, it was a reasonable pleasant day for early spring. The sun
was shining, pollution levels were low, and the noise—for a large
city at least—was moderate. A gentle breeze was drifting down the
street. As he stepped outside of the apartment building, Ryne froze
and sniffed the air. Melody! She was nearby. He stepped back into
the shadows of the doorway and searched the street for her. There
she was, about half a block away, walking quickly towards his
location.

Making a
split-second decision, Ryne decided to let her come to him. If he
confronted her on the street, a passer-by might notice, but the
building’s foyer was relatively more private. He strongly suspected
that her neighbours were not members of the Good Samaritan club and
would probably turn a blind eye to anything that happened rather
than getting involved. In other circumstances, he might have found
such callousness disturbing, but right now it worked in well with
his plans.

As she got closer,
he noted that something was off about her appearance, though he
couldn’t put his finger on it. She was moving differently and he
was sure he detected slight shivers wracking her body. Now what
could that be about? His wolf whined in concern and he had to
restrain himself from stepping forward and going to her.

Instead, he backed
farther into a corner close to the stairwell. Once she was
completely inside, he’d have her. The outer door opened. A sliver
of bright sunlight fell across the dull terrazzo floor and for a
moment, her profile was perfectly silhouetted. He could see the
curve of her cheekbone, the fullness of her lips, her cute nose...
His wolf slipped through his defences once again and rumbled in
approval at her proximity.
Yes! We are together again!

“Melody.” Ryne
stepped out of the shadows. She started and stared at him in
shock.

“Ryne! What are
you doing here?” Her voice sounded raspy, but he didn’t have to
time to wonder why; she was already backing towards the door.

He moved quickly,
grabbing her arm and dragging her towards the stairs before she
could reach the doorway. She gave a cry of pain and struggled
against him.

“Let me go!”
Melody tried to kick him, but he was prepared for the move by now
and pulled her flush against him, wrapping one arm around her. She
wriggled in an attempt to free herself and Ryne heard her inhaling
in preparation for a scream. He clamped a hand over her mouth and
manoeuvred so that she was pressed between him and the wall. Her
struggles had her body rubbing against his, causing his body to
become aroused. Without meaning to, he nuzzled against her,
inhaling deeply. Her scent was heavenly, but... He frowned.
Something was different. Sniffing again, he tried to place what it
was.

Suddenly he gave a
muffled cry of pain. She’d bit his palm! Jerking his hand away he
opened his mouth to chastise her, but she spoke first.

“What are you
doing? And why are you sniffing me? What are you, some kind of a
dog?” Melody was pressing hard against his chest. She was breathing
rapidly, heat radiating from her, yet at the same time she was
shivering, her voice quavering as she spoke.

Grabbing her upper
arms, Ryne held her away from him, studying her curiously, his
earlier anger momentarily put aside by the new information coming
at him from his senses. Her skin was pale, her eyes glassy and
slightly unfocused. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she
was...

Melody stiffened,
gave a cry of pain, and went limp. Ryne reacted without thinking,
scooping her up and running up the stairs to her apartment.
Shouldering the door open, he laid her down on the couch and then
stared at her nonplussed. What was going on? She was unconscious
and convulsing slightly. He sniffed again and swore. Damned if she
didn’t smell almost like a werewolf, but how?

Not knowing what
else to do, he picked up the phone and dialled the number for
Kane’s nurse practitioner, Nadia.

“Nadia? Ryne here.
I have a question for you.”

The woman was a
no-nonsense sort who revelled in the knowledge that she could make
even the fiercest Lycan put its tail between its legs. She answered
in clipped, impatient tones. “Ryne, I don’t have time for your
nonsense. Kane’s just put everyone on high alert and I’m too
busy—”

“Too bad.” Ryne
wasn’t in the mood for her attitude and had no compunction about
throwing his authority around. “Listen to these stats. Female.
About twenty-five years old. Unconscious. Giving off heat like a
blast furnace. Slight convulsions. Eyes were glassy and unfocused
before she collapsed and she seemed to be in some sort of
pain.”

“Ryne, I
don’t—”

“And she smells
like a wolf.”

His last statement
stopped the woman’s protests. “Twenty-five, you say? Hmm... Rather
old for undergoing her first change... What’s her family
background?”

“How the hell
should I know?” He ran his free hand through his hair. “Nadia, up
until five minutes ago, I thought she was a pure-blooded human, but
for some reason her scent’s changed since I last saw her and now
it’s distinctly werewolf.”

The woman snorted.
“Well obviously, she wasn’t fully human. There must be some
recessive were-genes in her background and something triggered
them. Did you bite her during sex?”

“No! I didn’t bite
her.”

“Was she having
sex with another were?”

Ryne thought of
Bryan and Daniel, but knew they hadn’t been near her. Hell, if they
had, he’d rip their throats out. “No. Just me.”

“Well, something
happened. It would take a combination of at least two bodily fluids
and sometimes three to activate latent genes.” She listed them off.
“You’d need semen, saliva, and or blood; are you sure you didn’t
nip each other by accident?”

Thinking back to
the last time they’d had sex, Ryne replayed the scene. He’d dragged
her into Armand’s office. She’d been drunk, almost playful at first
before they’d started to argue. When Melody had tried to leave, his
wolf had taken over. He’d pulled her back and they’d struggled
before... A groan escaped his lips when he realized he hadn’t used
a condom.

“We had sex and I
didn’t use a condom, but I’m sure I didn’t bite her.”

“What about in the
period following? Could there have been an accidental blood
exchange in, oh, say—the next twelve hours? As long as there were
traces of semen in her body, a blood exchange could still trigger
her recessive genes even without saliva.

Accident? The word
had Ryne swearing under his breath as he thought about the bar
fight. He recalled falling and landing on top of Melody. His nose
had gushed blood everywhere and later on, hadn’t he noticed Melody
with a bloody cloth on her arm? Was it possible that his blood had
seeped into her wound? Picking up her arm, he pushed her sleeve out
of the way. A faint scar marred the creamy surface of her forearm.
When he sniffed the area, he had his answer. Damn!

“Nadia, the
mystery is solved. I know how it happened, now what the hell do I
do about it?”

“It sounds like
her body is trying to adapt to the cellular and chemical changes
it’s experiencing. That’s tough on anyone, but since it’s the full
moon tonight, her body is also trying to undergo its first
transformation and she’s not ready for it.”

He tightened his
grip on the phone. “So what’s going to happen?”

“She’ll have bad
spells like this, interspersed with moments when she feels
relatively fine, but in the end she’ll either live or die,
depending on how much her body can handle. There’s nothing you can
really do about it. If anyone were to ask before attempting this
type of thing, medical advice would strongly discourage any genetic
changes during a full moon. It’s way too risky.”

“Yeah, well, this
wasn’t exactly planned.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “So I
just watch her and twiddle my thumbs? That’s the best advice you
can give?” Ryne stared down at Melody’s pale face, hating the
helpless feeling that was washing over him.

“Pretty much. Try
to keep her calm. Cool cloths for the fever. Aspirin not
Tylenol—that stuff’s going to be deadly to her from now on.”

“How long before I
know if she’s going to make it?”

“It depends on the
individual and how many generations back the connection is. Best
guess is between two to five days from the initial introduction of
the triggering agents.”

Ryne did the
mental math. The fight had been Wednesday night. It was now
Saturday morning. About two and half days. He sighed heavily. “All
right. Thanks, Nadia.”

Nadia’s voice
softened slightly. “I hope it goes well for your friend. Does she
have anything to do with the alert Kane has placed us under?”

“Yeah. Sort of.”
He hung up the phone without further explanation and started to
pace the room. Shit! Now what was he supposed to do? Melody was
turning into one of his kind, but how would she react to the news?
Ryne knew of instances when those recently changed embraced their
new life while others refused to accept it, eventually going rogue
and having to be terminated for the good of the pack. What category
would Melody fall into? And did it really matter? She’d already
betrayed them.