To Catch a Wolf (34 page)

think this should become one of our regular acts, don't you, Harry?”

The old man glanced in an agony of worry from one face to another. "Oh, dear. I did not

know

I did not realize that Mr. Munroe had arrived until we heard the shouting, and

Caitlin insisted—”

"It was very kind of you to come visit us," Caitlin said to Niall, smiling sweetly. "I am

sorry you are so put out, Mr. Munroe, but if you insist on entering private rooms

unannounced, you are bound to see things you don't like.”

Niall opened his mouth to answer and was held mute by the sparkle in Caitlin's blue

eyes. Dammit, how could he be thinking of her eyes at a time like this? She had always

approved of Athena's attraction to Holt. Good God, she had probably urged Athena to

abandon her principles and humanity for a night of passion in this monster's arms.

"You

you defend my sister giving herself to this

" He waved toward Morgan, sick in

his gut. "You knew what he was, you and your circus freaks. And you let Athena get

near him—”

"I think you'll find she has a mind of her own. Athena has known what he is since he

saved her life from a runaway horse in the big top." Caitlin cocked her head. "You didn't

want her near Morgan because of his act. But you couldn't have known it wasn't an act

at all. You don't look like a man who's shocked by something he's never seen before.”

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"He isn't," Athena said quietly. She stepped away from Morgan's support and stood free

on unsteady legs. "He isn't shocked because Morgan and I share the same nature. My

mother

she was a werewolf, too.”

Caitlin's eyes widened. "Of course. It explains so much—why you reacted so calmly

when you saw Morgan change, and why you have been drawn to each other." She

looked at Niall. "But that means that you must also be—”

"I am not," he snapped. "My mother was a normal woman. She was Walter Munroe's

wife.”

"Ah. I see." Caitlin's stare was so bleak that Niall had difficulty in meeting it. "Athena's

mother was his mistress, then.”

Her frankness should not have surprised him at this late date. "It doesn't matter. She is

my sister, and I promised to protect her from harm.”

"And a fine job you make of it.”

Seldom had Niall felt such anger. It was as if his skull were an overheated boiler,

blackening his vision with scalding steam. When he looked at Caitlin, he dared not loose

his rage. But Athena, and Morgan, were another matter entirely.

"I thought she needed protecting," he said, turning on his sister. "Look at her! She has

been deceiving everyone, pretending helplessness to win sympathy and support for her

charities

and for herself." He ignored Athena's horrified protest. "Did you think you

could make me dance to your tune by playing the cripple, Athena? Has that been your

game all along, just like

just like pretending you aren't exactly the same as your

mother?”

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Morgan snarled. Caitlin hopped forward on one leg. "And who do you take after, Niall

Munroe?" she demanded. "You've never been driven by fear for your sister, have you?

It's hatred—hatred of anyone different, hatred and guilt, eating you up inside because

you helped put Athena in that chair. Controlling her and calling it protection is the only

way to salve your guilt and cage what you don't understand!”

Her words echoed in the total silence that followed. Niall heard the accusation over and

over, hating Caitlin for revealing his shame, sickened by the truth.

And she knew only half of it.

He had to get out, before he disgraced himself further. But he'd be damned if he'd leave

Athena in the hands of these people, no matter what Caitlin claimed as his motive. He

had never retreated from a fight without some plan for ultimate victory.

Caitlin provided the distraction he needed. As if she had used up all her strength in

castigating him, she gave a soft moan and stumbled sideways. Niall stepped in and

caught her before anyone else moved, steadied her, and handed her over to Holt.

Morgan took her reflexively, leaving Niall free to grab Athena.

She felt almost boneless as he lifted her, and he was certain when he held her in his

arms that her legs were not those of a healthy woman. They were too thin, lacking the

full development of muscle. She might be able to stand, even hobble, but she was by no

means recovered. Perhaps her deception hadn't been quite as heinous as he had

believed.

Niall shouldered his way past Harry and the dwarf and paused in the doorway, Athena

rigid in his hold. Caitlin's presence prevented Holt from following. His yellow eyes

tracked Niall with an unspoken vow that the battle was far from over. The world

narrowed down to the two of them, a long, red tunnel of hatred that connected them as

surely as Athena bore her mother's bestial blood.

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"Listen well, Morgan Holt," Niall said. "I make you a solemn promise. If you ever touch

my sister again, I will kill you.”

Almost tenderly, Morgan passed the half-conscious Caitlin to Harry French and started

toward Niall. Athena pushed against Niall's chest, and her eyes locked with Holt's.

Niall had no explanation for what followed. Woman and beast-man gazed at each other,

and it was as if yet another tunnel linked them, excluding everyone else—a tunnel made

of light instead of hate. Athena smiled. She held out her hand, stopping Holt with a

gesture as graceful as a dancer's.

"Please stay, Morgan," she said. "Look after Caitlin. She needs you now.”

Holt blinked slowly, and the bizarre transformation that had taken him before began to

reverse itself. When it was done he was human again, though the shadows under his

cheekbones seemed more pronounced and pain pinched the corners of his mouth. Niall

hoped that the Change had been excruciating.

He turned his back on Holt, on all of them, and carried his sister out of the jaws of hell.

At times like these, Athena thought, it would have made perfect sense to weep. But her

eyes remained stubbornly dry, though the twisting pain in her legs was a constant

reminder that the worst was yet to come.

Niall all but ran down the stairs, charging blindly away from the terrible danger that

existed in his mind. At the foot of the stairs he paused, irresolute, and carried her down

the hall to the door of Walter Munroe's study.

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The room had been closed up ever since Papa had died. It was dark inside, and

smelled of mildew and old books. Athena's throat ached with the memories stacked on

the shelves and in every corner.

Niall deposited her on the dusty leather-padded chair behind Papa's desk and stood

back as if she might somehow corrupt him if he touched her any longer than necessary.

That hurt, too, but all the hurts had blended together so that it was difficult to tell one

from another.

If she had been able, she would have stood up and marched right back up the stairs to

Morgan. But her legs had been pressed beyond their limits, the atrophied muscles

seized with spasms, and they would not have carried her as far as the door.

"Are you happy now?" Niall demanded.

He looked drained, ill—not the vital, confident man she knew, but a stranger more

terrifying than Morgan in his half-wolf shape. He had threatened to kill Morgan, and

Athena believed him. He would try, at the risk of his own life, if Morgan came near her

again.

Unless she could make him understand.

"I didn't lie to you about my legs, Niall," she began, gathering the words slowly. "I only

just learned that I was able to stand. I didn't think it was possible. I believed the doctors,

just as you did.”

He flung back his head and gave a harsh laugh. "A miracle, is that it? A miracle that just

happens to come when you lie with Morgan Holt?”

She let the cutting remark pass. "I know that you have felt responsible all these years. I

didn't want you to. That was why I tried to make a life for myself, as much as I could,

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and a place in society that wasn't dependent upon you. I succeeded, Niall. But you

never saw it as success.”

"Is this success, Athena?" he asked. "Choosing these

people over the life our father

worked to build for the family? Animal instinct instead of the civilized behavior my

mother tried to teach you? Instinct to follow after your own kind?”

"It's what you were afraid of, wasn't it? When you learned of Morgan's act—”

"I didn't guess what he was. I only thought he would remind you of what you should

forget. I hoped and prayed that your confinement and your social activities would make

you give up any idea of ever

changing again.”

"Then Caitlin was right," she said. "It was fear that made you try to protect me from the

world. Fear, and guilt." She swallowed. "Did you ever love me, Niall? Or have you

always hated?”

"I hated what you were. I hated Gwenyth Desbois, because of what she did to Mother.”

Athena closed her eyes. "I always suspected, but

I tried not to believe it.”

He leaned over the desk. "Do you know what life was like before that whore seduced

Father

before she convinced him that rutting with an animal was better than staying

faithful to his wife?”

"My mother

Morgan is not an animal," she whispered.

"I hoped you would be different. I did my best to make it so." His face was the color of

chalk, or the gently falling snow beyond the windows. "I was glad when you were hurt.

Glad, Athena. I could have not asked for a better way to

keep you from turning into

something like her. But I wasn't careful enough.”

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She stared at him, filled with such anger and pity that no answer would come. He

pushed away from the desk and walked about the study, aimlessly touching the spine of

one book and then another without seeing the titles.

"You can't fight what you are," he said in a dull voice. "There is too much of that animal

in you, Athena. And it's because I love you that I can't let you give in to it.”

"Because you love me, or hated my mother? I know your mother was hurt, Niall. I am

sorry for that. But she never loved me, either. I always sensed her resentment, even

though she didn't let our father see how she felt. If Papa hadn't insisted that you and I

be treated the same, I don't know what—”

"Our father." He snorted. "He doted on you. You were always special. After the whore

was gone, you reminded him of her. He would have given you anything.”

Athena fell back, remembering something Morgan had said not so long ago. "Did you

envy me, Niall? Were you jealous that Papa could love me? Or was it because I could

do things that no ordinary person could? Did you want to be like me?”

He laughed. "The very idea disgusts me. I could never understand how our father could

touch that woman. But I thought you should be considered innocent of her stain,

because you didn't choose to be born. Now you have to choose." He faced her again,

haggard and wan. "You boasted of the life you've made, all the people you have helped.

Everyone in society respects you. That life must be important to you, Athena. Now you

will have to decide how important it is.”

A dreadful foreboding spilled like acid into Athena's stomach. Cramps seized her thighs,

and she fought down a cry. She could not be weak, not now.

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"You pride yourself on being unselfish, don't you?" he said, taunting her like the cruel

stranger he had become. "Athena Munroe never thinks of herself. She is the most

generous, the most noble lady in Denver. So noble that she will sacrifice what she

wants for the sake of others." He sat on the edge of the desk, one leg swinging as if

they were having a friendly chat. "I have a proposition for you, dear sister. I could send

the circus away, as soon as the weather clears—pay them for the one performance and

nothing more. Your Caitlin seems able to walk, so there's no further need to pamper

her.”

"Caitlin—”

"Be quiet, unless you wish me to throw them all out in the snow right now." He studied

his manicured fingers. "I can make them leave, and I can tell the sheriff that they've