by C. L. Bevill
Epilogue
In a cat’s eyes, all things belong to the cat. – English Proverb
“Why is there a brand new Jeep in my spot?” Emma asked cautiously. She was sitting on her balcony looking out at the mountain. Once the silver bullet had been removed from her shoulder and fluids introduced to her body, she had begun to regenerate quickly. But a full day later and she was still tired. She figured that it was mental exhaustion more than anything else. Not that she’d had to lift a finger for anything. Wheeler had even wanted to carry her into the bathroom, but Emma had drawn the line.
Wheeler stood at the balcony’s door with a decidedly blank expression. “Your other Jeep had, uh, a little problem.”
A frown knitted Emma’s face. “A problem?”
“We found it in the parking lot of the park,” Wheeler admitted. “The door got torn off.”
“The door can be replaced,” she said faintly. She was trying to understand what had happened. Wheeler had been angry with her disappearance. That angry? she thought. Why tear off a door?
“And part of the frame,” he added. “I might have bent the axle, too.”
“Oh-kay,” she said slowly. Too bad, I liked that Jeep. But I’ve got something better and it ain’t a vehicle.
“So I bought you a new one,” he finished. “It’s your favorite color.”
“I do like yellow,” Emma said. They were dancing around each other. She had a blurry memory about Wheeler saying some very interesting things to her when she had been shot for the second time. But he hadn’t said anything else and the other weres had kept their distance. Killian had laughingly ruffled her hair as Wheeler carried her to a military helicopter with humans who stared at them as if they were from Mars. What had those guys seen? It wasn’t the naked woman wrapped in a blanket that had been freaking them out.
“I smell strange weres in the mansion,” she said.
Wheeler’s expression turned slightly satisfied. “We have…guests from Mexico.”
“Mexico?” Emma repeated.
“They’re related to Martinez,” he said simply.
Not really guests. Emma tensed in the chair. “You didn’t find Sage Ingram, did you?”
“She wasn’t in the Wyoming facility,” Wheeler said quietly. “There were no records of her.” He paused. “Not that any records exist anymore now.”
There had been a massive explosion and fire at the former military base. Many men were dead. Others were missing and presumed dead. A billionaire, a state senator, and his brother had all happened to be at the facility when the incident occurred. They were among the missing. Between the New York Clan and the Colorado Clan the place was going to become an odd urban legend.
“There was a doctor there who helped me,” Emma said. “His name was Anton.”
“The Council will decide what happens to the humans who are left,” Wheeler said ruthlessly. “You can speak for the man, if you want.”
“He said they used his family against him,” she said, thinking of the Mexican weres in the mansion.
Wheeler read her correctly. “The Mexican weres won’t be harmed in this house or on Clan properties.”
“You’re going to keep them until you can get Martinez,” Emma said.
“Until he releases the girl,” Wheeler corrected reluctantly.
“Why?” Emma knew that Sage Ingram wasn’t one of the Clan and that she didn’t mean anything to Wheeler.
“Because that’s what you would want,” Wheeler said carefully.
Emma bit her lip. It was true. She wanted Sage to have her freedom. She didn’t know the college student very well, but the girl didn’t deserve to be forced into Martinez’s company. The frightened expression on Sage’s face as she stood handcuffed next to Martinez while he stroked her face would haunt Emma. It smacked of Emma’s initiation into the world of shifters and it made her sick inside.
“Martinez called before. He told me where you were in exchange for an agreement not to hunt him.” Emma’s head lifted at Wheeler’s words. His eyes glittered with unspoken rage. “I agreed because I wanted you back at any cost. But the New York Clan and the others who had Clan members didn’t make any type of agreement with him. They’ll find him. Or he’ll find out that I have his family here. He’ll call me again. We’ll get your little college student back.”
Emma nodded. They fell into an uncomfortable silence.
Then Wheeler asked, “Do you remember what I said yesterday?”
“It’s fuzzy,” she disclosed. You said you loved me. You said I was yours. And I don’t know exactly what to do next.
Wheeler made an odd little noise. Then he was kneeling next to her chair and his hands took hers. He stared down at her fingers for a moment. He said, “Our society takes things for granted. I thought you understood that we had a connection.”
Emma swallowed. “I didn’t understand what we had…have.”
His eyes slowly traveled up her figure and locked on hers. “It’s called mating instinct. It doesn’t happen to all of us. Sometimes we never find the one that we’re meant to be with. But from the moment the wind blew in your scent in New Mexico, I knew. I followed you to the restaurant, and I waited for you outside. When you went home, I followed you there. I had people watching you from that time on.”
Her mouth opened and then closed. He was waiting for her to process the information. “It’s all…instinct. You didn’t really get to choose who you wanted.”
One large hand stroked her flesh and he chuckled. “I waited for you to adjust. You were so young and so…”
“Broken,” she supplied immediately.
“Hurting,” he said instead.
There was another moment of silence. Wheeler said, “Instead of the instant mate, I got something much better.”
Emma wanted to ask what, but her tongue was tied.
He reached up and touched the curve of her cheek, running his finger down to her lips. The smile on his face was content. “And you won’t ask what, will you?” But it wasn’t really a question. “I got to know you. Every part of you. The irritable Emma. The Emma who won’t take no for an answer. The Emma who is brash and defends those she thinks are weaker. The Emma who stole every part of my heart. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Emma stared at those wonderful leonine eyes and suddenly grinned. Every last feeling of tiredness had precipitously vanished with the joy that she felt. She threw her arms around his neck and they went down on the floor of the balcony in an undignified sprawl. Wheeler didn’t really care. She murmured, “I love you, too.”
Everything else pretty much became a moot point.
The End
About the Author
C.L. Bevill has lived in Texas, Virginia, Arizona, and Oregon. She once was in the US Army and a graphic illustrator. She holds degrees in social-psychology and counseling. She is the author of Bubba and the Dead Woman, Bubba and the 12 Deadly Days of Christmas, Bayou Moon, and Shadow People, among others. Presently she lives with her husband and her daughter and continues to constantly write. She can be reached at www.clbevill.com or you can read her blog at www.carwoo.blogspot.com
Other Novels by C.L. Bevill
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Mysteries:
Bubba and the Dead Woman
Bubba and the 12 Deadly Days of Christmas
Bayou Moon
Paranormal Romance:
Veiled Eyes (Lake People)
Disembodied Bones (Lake People)
The Moon Trilogy (Novellas):
Black Moon (The Moon Trilogy 1)
Amber Moon (The Moon Trilogy 2)
Silver Moon (The Moon Trilogy 3)
Cat Clan Novella:
Harvest Moon
Shadow People
Sea of Dreams
Suspense:
The Flight of the Scarlet Tanager
Black Comedy:
The Life and Death of Bayou Billy
Missile Rats
Chicklet:
Dial ‘M’
For Mascara
