The Keeping (52 page)

As soon as Ryne
said to not think about it, her traitorous mind began to
concentrate on nothing else. The strange feelings slowly began to
build inside her. Her limbs began to tremble.

“Melody!” Ryne
gave her a shake. “I said don’t think about it!”

“I’m trying, but I
need a distraction! When you say
don’t
think about, I can’t
help
but
think about it.”

“Fine.” He made a
rumbling sound and the next thing Mel knew, she was in his arms,
his lips locked on hers. At first, she stiffened in surprise, but
then as he slid his tongue over hers, she began to relax, kissing
him in return. The sensations that had been crawling up her arms
and legs faded from awareness as Ryne caressed her back.

Mmm, it felt so
good to have his warm, hard body pressed close, to have his tongue
stroking hers while his hand cupped her breast. She inhaled the
scent of him, the taste of him, the rumbling sound in his chest...
Mel popped her eyes open. Rumbling, growling... The wolf by the
river... The paw prints around her cabin...!

She pulled her
mouth from his and pushed him away. “You’re a wolf!”

“Yeah. I’m a
werewolf. That’s what I’ve been telling you.” He moved to pull her
close again, but she braced her hands on his chest.

“No. I mean you
really are
a wolf
; a furry, four legged, howling-at-the-moon
wolf!”

“So?”

“I saw you. At the
river. And those were your paw prints around my cabin. And... Oh my
God! You snuck into my cabin one night, didn’t you?” When he looked
away, she shrieked and hit him. “Pervert!”

Ryne winced and
covered his ears. “Hey! No screaming. My ears are sensitive.”

“But you molested
me in my sleep.” She smacked him again and he caught her hands
holding them to his chest.

“I just stopped by
to check on you because you’d hit your head. I didn’t like the idea
of you being by yourself, but when I arrived, you were having a bad
dream. My wolf sort of took over and tried to offer you some
comfort.”

“Comfort! Is that
what you call it?” She struggled against him, glaring. “I could
have you arrested! And don’t give me any of that ‘he made me do it’
stuff. That’s so juvenile.”

“When your wolf is
fully formed, you’ll be amazed at what it can do, if you don’t keep
it under control.”

“So control
it!”

“I’ve been trying,
but you have me so twisted into knots that it hasn’t been
easy.”

“I do?” She
stilled her struggles and studied him.

He gave a half
smile.

Mel pursed her
lips as if considering the information, then shook her head. “No.
You’re trying to distract me from the main point which is you
invaded my room while I was sleeping and...and...touched me!”

Ryne zoomed in and
planted a kiss on her lips. “You liked it. You had an orgasm. Don’t
deny it.”

“Well, yes.
But—”

He silenced her
with a long, slow kiss. When he finally moved back, he whispered
against her ear. “When we get out of here, I promise to give you a
lot more orgasms.”

Mel shivered at
the wickedly erotic images that his words brought to mind. “But
back in Stump River you said—”

“Shh...” He laid
his finger over her lips. “I said lots of stupid stuff, trying to
get you to go away so you wouldn’t get caught up in the
Keeping.”

The statement
quickly sobered her mood as she recalled parts of his earlier
lecture. She shifted away from him. “Is it really that serious? You
have to kill people if they find out your secret?” He nodded.
“So...what about me? I know. Are you going to kill me?”

“Well, we do let a
select few know of our existence, if it benefits the whole pack.
And we screen those people very carefully.”

She gulped. “Do I
qualify?”

“In normal
circumstances, probably not. But given the fact that you’re
transforming into one of us—”

Mel started to
protest that there was absolutely no way she was becoming a
werewolf, but then stopped. If he believed she was transforming,
then that meant she was safe. Okay, she’d deny it in her head, but
outwardly... She pasted a smile on her face. “So I’m immune to the
law.”

“Unless you refuse
to accept your transformation and start telling everyone or go
rogue, letting others see you changing, things like that.”

“Nope. Not me. I
promise to keep mum.” She put her hand up as if making an oath and
then mimed zipping her lip. After all, even if she told people, who
would believe her? “So what happens again, if Aldrich and Greyson
tell other people?”

“If it appears the
secret has been spread to others, the pack that has been discovered
enters into something akin to a suicide pact.”

Mel shuddered as
the import of what was going on finally sunk in. “So basically,
I’ve endangered your whole family by interviewing you?”

Ryne stood up and
began to pace again. “I started it by taking that photo of Kane in
his wolf form and then not guarding the picture closely enough.
When Greyson bought it, he must have examined it closely and
discovered certain anomalies between Kane’s wolf form and that of a
real wolf.”

“But Greyson must
have suspected that werewolves existed ahead of time. Most people
don’t look at an unusual picture of a wolf and say ‘Hey, there’s
something different about this one. It must be a werewolf.’ Normal
people don’t think that way.”

“Well apparently
Greyson does because that’s the only reason I can think of for him
to be searching for me. My pictures are good, but not that good.
Not good enough to spend thousands of dollars on finding me just to
interview me.”

Mel stared at the
floor, thinking for a moment before speaking. “Aldrich was really
insistent that Greyson wanted to know where you took your
pictures.” She looked up at Ryne. “He must want to find more
werewolves!”

Ryne nodded
grimly. “That’s what I’m thinking, too. And if we can’t stop him,
my brother and his whole pack will self-destruct rather than let
Greyson find them.”

Chapter
37

Kane drummed his
fingers on his desk, checked his watch, then stared at the phone,
willing it to ring. Why hadn’t Ryne called yet? Surely, if he’d
taken care of the leak, it would be over and done with by now. A
burning knot of fear settled in his gut. Something was wrong, he
knew it. Had Ryne been unable to find the girl? Or had she already
told others of her discovery? Possibly she’d arranged for Ryne to
be captured? Kane sensed Ryne had an affection for the girl, even
if he was unwilling to admit it. But did the girl return those
feelings or was she merely playing him for a dupe? Had she lured
him into a trap where he was, even now, fighting to escape and warn
the others of impending doom?

His expression
became stony as he firmed his resolve. He was Alpha. It was his job
to ensure the safety of his pack; waiting would only heighten the
danger. Picking up the phone, he punched in the needed numbers and
waited impatiently for his Beta to answer.

“John? Ryne missed
his check-in. We’re not waiting any longer. Contact the group
leaders and have them gather those assigned to them ... No ... No
exceptions. I want everyone on the dispersal lists packed and out
of here within the hour ... Yeah ... We’ll hold on as long as
possible back here. I won’t make the final decision lightly ...
I’ll break the news to Elise and make sure she’s in front of the
house waiting for the van ... Yeah, good luck to you, too.”

He hung up the
phone and walked wearily to the door. His hand rested on the knob
as he paused, contemplating what he’d say to his mate. She didn’t
want to leave, but there was no way he was endangering her life and
that of his unborn child by letting her stay, despite her pleas.
But how do you begin to convince someone you love to leave you
behind to face almost certain death? And how did you bid that
person farewell, when you knew it would be forever?

For a moment he
gave his emotions free rein. Surprisingly enough, it was anger that
came to the fore. Anger at Melody Greene for her snooping; for
searching out Ryne and asking questions. Anger at Ryne for not
dealing with her swiftly and ruthlessly. He was angry that he’d
never see his unborn child. And that he’d never hold Elise again or
feel the incredible oneness that occurred when he slid his body
into hers and they gently rocked together...

His breathing
hitched as he imagined the loss of that deep connection. It was
like a knife, cutting into his very soul. He wondered how his death
would affect her. Would she know the moment he died? Feel an aching
emptiness in her heart? If only there was a way to spare her that
pain, he would take it; but as his life force seeped away, would he
be strong enough to maintain a shield between their minds? He hoped
so...

With a heavy
heart, he exited the office and went in search of Elise.

*****

Greyson eased
himself into his favourite chair and sighed. He seldom allowed
himself the luxury of feeling tired, but his concern over Cassandra
was slowly wearing away at him. The girl was beginning to ask
questions and he wasn’t sure how he would answer them. For so long
he’d shielded her from the truth; once she learned of it, would she
accept it? Perhaps he should have told her years ago, but the
danger had been too real; she’d been too young to be trusted not to
tell someone.

Reaching into his
pocket, he withdrew a key and unlocked the drawer in the table to
his right. He eased it open and lifted out an envelope and a
picture from within. The envelope was his Last Will and Testament
and left everything to Cassandra. He’d written it himself using
sufficient legal mumbo jumbo to make it legal and unbreakable. Only
a few people knew this copy existed. Another sealed version was at
Aldrich’s office, but even the lawyer didn’t know it’s true
contents. Greyson had never told the lawyer about the girl, and if
he had his way, her existence was going to be kept a secret as long
as possible. His life and business associates would not be allowed
to taint her as long as he was alive. He put the will back in the
drawer and focused on the picture. His gnarled fingers trembled
slightly as he traced the features of the woman in the
photograph.

“Ah Luisa, you’d
be proud of the girl. She looks just like you and has your fighting
spirit, too.” He cleared his throat as emotion overcame him. “I
wish you were here to see her, to guide her. You left her in my
care and I’ve done my best, but now... I’m not sure what to do
anymore.”

He stared intently
at the picture as memories unfolded...

*****

Spain. Eighteen
years ago...

He usually didn’t
walk home, preferring the luxury of his limousine, but he’d wanted
time by himself to dwell on his most recent success. Taking over
the small Spanish import-export business gave him another toe-hold
in the country. It was part of his master plan to get his hands on
the parent company--a large conglomerate with connections in
several European nations. If done carefully enough, with little
fanfare, no one would realize that he had a controlling interest in
the voting stock until it was too late to stop him.

The streets were
mostly deserted which wasn’t surprising given the late hour. His
driver was tailing him, a respectful two blocks away, ready to pick
him up when he tired of his solitary stroll. Noise drifted out of
small establishments as people laughed and sang, enjoying
friendship and frivolity. He firmed his jaw. What a waste of time.
So what if it’s New Year’s Eve? Transactions needed to be done,
fortunes built; commerce waited for no one. A small voice insisted
that commerce also made a cold friend, but Greyson pushed the
thought aside. If he needed companionship, he could find it. The
flash of diamonds and a bottle of champagne would have women
hanging off of him, should he so desire.

Shoving his hands
in his pocket, he hunched his shoulder against the cool wind and
walked on. A scuffling sound from an alley caught his attention and
he turned to stare into the murky depths. Nothing moved and he
turned to go when a soft cry sounded. He wasn’t usually one to get
involved, so he had no idea what inspired him to walk down the
alleyway.

His steps echoed
off the pavement; the stench of garbage causing him to curl his
lip. He searched the shadows and then he saw it. A face, pale and
battered, blood smeared across the cheek, one eye swollen shut, the
other filled with fear. It was a young girl and she shrank back as
he approached.

Greyson stared
around, looking for signs of her attackers, suspicious that this
could be a set up. What better way to distract a wealthy victim,
than to present him with a helpless female and then attack when he
was otherwise occupied. However, there were no signs of movement,
no sounds except the girl’s laboured breathing.

He crouched beside
her, murmuring reassurances in Spanish while assessing the damage.
Her arm hung limply at her side and her leg was twisted
grotesquely, both obviously broken. Greyson considered himself a
hard man, the suffering of others didn’t bother him, but when he
observed the girl protectively clutch her good arm around the
swelling at her waist, even he was moved. What kind of bastard
would beat up a pregnant woman?

“Who did this to
you?” His voice was harsher than he intended and she cringed. With
effort, he forced himself to speak in a gentler tone. “Who hurt
you? I’ll call the police and ensure the villains are dealt
with.”

Panic flared in
her eyes. “No! No police! Please, tell no one. Just help me up.”
She struggled to move and he firmly held her in place.

“Don’t be
ridiculous girl. Your leg’s broken. You can’t move.”

She raised her
chin. “Yes, I can. I got myself this far—”