by Jane Godman
* * *
The white marble palace shimmered in the sunlight as they crossed the gardens hand in hand. Violet’s strides matched Nate’s. There was no question about it. Shifting had empowered her. Although she was thinner than before her illness, her eyes sparkled with their old love of life and her former vitality was back. There was a spring in her step, and she appeared almost fully restored to health.
I can’t put this off any longer.
Nate paused, leading her to an ornate bench that was set to one side of the palace entrance.
Violet raised an inquiring brow. “Is this important? I’m hungry after all that activity.” There was a naughty twinkle in her eye as she clasped Nate’s thigh suggestively. “And I don’t mean the running.”
He drew a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
Her smile vanished and her eyes became wary. “This sounds serious.”
“It is...”
Before he could say any more, there was a commotion behind him as two men erupted from the main entrance to the palace. Nate recognized one of them immediately. It was Roko, the young, good-looking werewolf who had been at the party in Vermont the night Nate had rescued Violet.
The second man was tall and powerfully built, with jet-black hair swept back from a broad brow and the golden brown eyes of a thoroughbred wolf. His features were masterful, proud and uncompromising. Nate sensed, from the crawling feeling he got down his own spine, exactly who this man was. There could be no question about it. This had to be Nevan, Violet’s father and the evil, murdering bastard who had used his strength of will against Nate when he had been at his most vulnerable.
“Violet?” Roko started toward them, his eyes narrowing as they dropped to take in her hand on Nate’s thigh. “We saw you from the window.”
Cal emerged from the building in the wake of the two men. His expression was apologetic as he looked from Violet to Nate. “I’m sorry. They weren’t supposed to arrive until tomorrow. There was a mix-up over the time of our meeting. I sent one of my clerks to find you and warn you. Clearly he missed you.”
“Could someone please tell me what’s going on?” Violet’s voice, while it was confused, held a note of annoyance. “Who are these people?”
“This is no time for games, my daughter.”
Nevan’s voice drained the energy from Nate’s body, replacing it with memories of confusion and fear. It was the voice that had once invaded his head. The voice that still haunted his nightmares. That cold, calculating voice with just a hint of a lisp. That was how he’d known who Nevan was. Six years ago, when he’d described the voice to Cal, when he’d explained who was urging him to find Stella and tear out her heart, Nate had mentioned the lisp. Cal had told him back then that Nevan, who was then the werewolf rebel leader, had that distinctive sibilant slide. That was when Nate had sworn to kill this man.
Violet’s gasp brought Nate’s focus back to her. She was all that mattered. Her eyes were fixed on Nevan. “You are my father?”
“Violet has lost her memory,” Nate explained.
Nevan’s eyes flickered over him without interest. “Whoever you are, I do not remember asking for your contribution. You will move away from my daughter.”
Nate felt his temper flare. Before he could respond, Violet gripped his hand. “I will decide if that is to happen.” She turned her head to look at Nate. “And it isn’t.”
Nevan’s lips thinned. “When I give an order, I expect instant obedience.”
“Perhaps we should all go inside?” Cal intervened smoothly. “I have a room set aside for the negotiations we had planned, and I can have lunch sent in.”
Nevan made a protesting sound, but Violet forestalled him by getting to her feet. “Thank you. I’d like that.” Outwardly, she was perfectly calm. Nate was the only person who knew, by the tight grip she maintained on his hand, that it was a facade.
Cal led them inside. He entered a small conference room with a central table set up in preparation for a formal meeting. Cal took a seat at the head of the table, and Violet slid into the chair on his left. Since she still had hold of Nate’s hand, he moved into place next to her. Nevan took the seat opposite. It was clear from his manner that Roko did not feel comfortable sitting next to his sworn enemy. After a moment’s hesitation, the younger werewolf moved into position opposite Cal at the foot of the table. When two faerie waiters brought in a buffet lunch and arranged the plates of food in the center of the table, it started to feel like a very uncomfortable dinner party.
The waiters had left, and Cal took charge of the proceedings. “Since Violet has no memory, I will undertake some introductions for her benefit.” He went around the table in turn. “Nevan is the Wolf Leader and he is your father. You are his youngest child. You have two brothers and two sisters. Roko is the leader of the opposition in the Wolf Nation. They have both come here because there is considerable unrest among the werewolves and I was hoping that we could begin negotiations to bring it to an end.”
Cal turned to Nevan. “From your perspective, you must be wondering why Violet has been staying here without your knowledge. She was in the mortal realm and was rescued from an attack by a feral werewolf, during which she lost her memory. While traveling in the mortal realm, she became seriously ill. She was brought here to the palace to recuperate. The plan was to return her to her family once she was strong enough. This is Nate Zilar, the mortal who rescued her from the feral werewolf and who brought her to Otherworld in time to save her life.” Cal’s gaze was fixed on Nevan’s, clearly conveying a message. “We all owe him a debt of thanks for saving her, not once, but twice.”
Nevan cast a look in Nate’s direction. Nate tried to categorize the look in those eyes that were not only unlike Violet’s in color, but which also lacked the warmth and sparkle of his daughter’s. Was it hatred he saw? Anger? Possibly even the threat of retribution? Nevan’s gaze certainly didn’t contain any gratitude. “Since Violet is now returned to her family, this mortal may go.”
“Nate is not leaving.” Violet’s anger was tangible, snapping through the air as she spoke.
“There is no place for a stranger in this conversation.” Nevan’s voice was equally heated.
“Violet, it’s not often I agree with your father—” Roko spoke for the first time since they had entered the room “—but he is right. This mortal may have assisted you, but his usefulness is at an end.”
“Your opinion on my daughter’s welfare is neither required nor welcome.” Nevan’s lips drew back as he addressed Roko.
“I have many more opinions about your family, most of them gleaned during my stay in the cellars beneath your home. Would you like me to air them now?” Roko pressed his palms flat on the table and sprang to his feet, every part of his body tense and prepared for a challenge. “I think the leader of the Alliance would be interested to hear the details.”
“May I remind you of our agreement that this meeting would be conducted in a nonthreatening manner?” Cal’s calm tones cut across the sizzling atmosphere. While his intervention may not have diffused the tension, it did provide a timely reminder that the palace was not the place for a wolf fight.
Violet stood. Her voice was steady as she spoke directly to Nevan. “I’ll take your word for it that you are my father. I don’t know what the purpose of this meeting is if what you want me to do is sit in silence and listen while you toss orders around and snarl. I know you have other business to discuss, so if you have nothing else to say to me, I’d rather be elsewhere.”
Nevan’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Nate. “Are you responsible for brainwashing my daughter?”
“Brainwashing.” Violet, who had been on her way to the door, halted in her tracks, repeating the word slowly. She turned to stare at Nate, who was just behind her, her eyes widening in horror. Her complexion blanched several shades as she looked from him to Neva
n and back again.
“Stella said the voice you heard inside your head six years ago—the one that compelled you to find her and rip her heart from her body—had a lisp.” Violet raised a shaking hand to her throat. “It was him, wasn’t it? The werewolf who bullied and tormented you, the person you never forgot, the person you swore you would one day take revenge against...that person was my father.”
Chapter 17
Violet wasn’t sure where she was going; she only knew she had to get out of that room with its crackling atmosphere of anger and oppression. Once she ran out of the palace, she kept on running until the edge of the cliff stopped her from going any farther.
The view across the bay was blurred by the tears in her eyes. It was a metaphor for her memory, but she felt something stirring. It wasn’t anything precise. More feelings than actual recollections. She knew Nevan’s autocratic behavior just now had been typical of his approach to her throughout her life. The mounting frustration and annoyance she had felt at his refusal to listen to her—to even acknowledge that she might have an opinion about her own life—were so familiar she sensed they were a regular feature of every encounter she had ever had with her father.
A movement behind her made her turn her head, but Nate’s arms were wrapped around her waist before she could fully face him. She gripped his wrists tightly, leaning back and using his warmth and strength to anchor herself.
“I should have told you.” His voice was anguished. “But I was scared of what harm it might do when you were still so weak.”
Violet choked on a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “I think I’d have been happy never to have known the truth of my identity. If you and I could have gone away somewhere together and I had never found out.” She turned in his arms, resting her forehead against his chest. “That makes me a coward, doesn’t it?”
“After what I just saw, I’d say it means you have a healthy self-defense mechanism.”
She sniffed back another sob, lifting her head. “I’m a werewolf. I guess self-protection is part of my DNA. But so is the protection of my species.” Her eyes were troubled as she gazed up at him. “You have sworn to kill my father, Nate. Is that vow still in place?”
“I won’t do anything that harms you.”
“That’s not quite an answer.” Peeping over his shoulder, she frowned. “Oh, hell.”
Stepping out of the circle of Nate’s arms, but remaining close to him, she turned to face Roko. He was striding toward them, a frown marring his features. “Violet, I understand that your father’s conduct may have angered you, but walking out on me—and with another man—is childish and beneath you.”
“Why?” Unlike her feelings about Nevan, her sensory memory of this man was nonexistent. He stirred no feelings in her, meant nothing to her, left her cold and unmoved.
“Because of our relationship.” He took a step closer, stopping short when Violet held up a hand to forestall him. “You must remember. We were in the mortal realm together because we love each other.”
Violet scanned his face. His handsome features projected an image of hurt. With a flash of intuition, she knew it was a mask with nothing behind it. His facial expressions were the practiced artistry of a professional politician. He was lying because it suited him to do so.
“That isn’t true.”
Roko’s veneer slipped slightly. A brief flash of impatience showed through. “Your memory—”
“I don’t need my memory to tell me my feelings. I know I don’t love you. I never have.”
He shook his head sadly. “When you recover from this amnesia, you will remember why you were in the mortal realm.” His eyes traveled over Nate with an air of superiority. “Why you chose me. Meanwhile, Merlin Caledonius has requested that you return to the palace. He has asked me to give you his guarantee that further conversations will be conducted in a reasonable manner.”
“Maybe you should hear the rest of what Nevan has to say,” Nate said quietly.
He was right, of course. She couldn’t stay here at the palace forever, no matter how much she might want to. Shutting herself away from reality wasn’t an option. She had a life, even if it might not be the one she wanted. Now she had a duty to find out all she could about it before doing what she could to pick up the shattered pieces of the past. Only then would she be able to set her feet on the road to any kind of future.
“I will be there in a few minutes.”
Roko gave a curt nod before turning away and striding back in the direction of the palace. Violet watched him go, trying to figure out his place in her life. Why had she been in the mortal realm with him? What did he mean to her? When she looked up, Nate’s eyes were fixed on her face. It was obvious that he was following the train of her thoughts.
“You were with him.” His tone was carefully neutral.
“I don’t care what he said.” She tilted her chin stubbornly. “I have never been in love until I met you.”
His smile, the one that always knocked her sideways with love and lust in equal measures, dawned. “I can see how that would be. How you would bypass the handsome, young werewolf with the movie-star looks in favor of the cynical, care-worn wolf hunter.”
Violet moved closer, pressing herself up against him. “I have a confession to make.”
“You do?” Nate’s voice was husky as he gripped her hips.
“I’m just a groupie at heart...with a thing for the bass guitarist.” She pressed a kiss on his lips before breaking away with a sigh. “I guess we should go back.”
“Is it such a good idea for me to be there?” Nate asked as they walked between the formal gardens and the lake. “My presence seems to inflame the situation.”
“I want you with me.” How could she explain that the only thing getting her through this nightmare was his closeness? Somehow, his quiet strength could communicate itself to her, even when he didn’t speak. If that was withdrawn, she felt as if her world would implode.
“Then that’s all that matters.”
When they reached the conference room, Nevan, Roko and Cal were waiting in the places they had occupied when they left. Violet and Nate resumed their seats. Violet realized with surprise that she was starving. She must be on the road to recovery if, even at a time of such stress, food was uppermost in her mind. As Cal started talking, she reached for a plate and piled it high with cold meat.
“Nevan has agreed that our conversation should focus on your return to the Wolf Nation.”
“That sounds like a good idea.”
She met Nevan’s eyes and wondered what her memories of this man would be. Had they ever laughed together? Done father-daughter things together? She thought back to the scene earlier today, and pictured Cal, Jethro and Lorcan with their children. Had this man ever looked at her with the same love in his eyes? Listened to her with the same attention? Played with her as though he didn’t have anything else in his life that mattered? Why did she sense that wasn’t the case? Instead, she felt there were soul-deep divisions between them, fundamental differences that might never be bridged.
“Since I have no memory, before we discuss anything else, perhaps you could help me out by telling me why I chose to go to the mortal realm?”
Roko made a protesting sound. “I have already explained—”
Nevan ignored him. “You were angry with me over some trivial matter. I forget what it was. You always were hotheaded. Running away from home was your way of punishing me for what you saw as my inflexibility.”
Violet frowned. That explanation didn’t sound any more realistic than Roko’s. It made her sound like a rebellious child. One man was telling her she had traveled to the mortal realm because she was in love with him, the other was saying she was a spoiled brat. Maybe the truth falls somewhere between the two, but I don’t like the versions of myself I am being offered. Somehow, she just didn’t feel
either was the case. Frustratingly, she sensed the real reason she had been in the mortal realm was being hidden from her both by her wayward memory and by these men who wanted to claim her for their own purposes.
When she didn’t respond, Nevan proceeded to discuss his plans for returning home. “I will be leaving early tomorrow morning.” Clearly he didn’t believe he needed to set aside much time for his discussions with Roko. Did that mean diplomacy and the peace talks about the future of the Wolf Nation were unimportant to him? “That will give you time to prepare.”
Violet paused in the act of raising a chicken leg to her mouth. Prepare? She realized Nevan’s gaze was on Nate and that there was a hint of triumph in his eyes. “We’ll be ready.”
“We?” Nevan’s head swung around to her so fast he must have cricked his neck.
She nodded. “Nate and I will be ready with you.”
Her father’s lip curled. “It will not be possible for a mortal to enter werewolf territory.”
“Then I’ll stay here.” Violet turned to look at Cal, willing him to support her. “That will be okay, won’t it?”
He nodded, his silver eyes alight with sympathy and something more. It might have been admiration. “Of course. You are welcome to remain here at the palace as long as you need to.”
“This is nonsense. Your home is with your own kind, with the werewolves,” Nevan growled.
“I agree. But unless Nate comes with me, I’m not going anywhere.” Violet gave her father a regretful smile.
“I could not guarantee his safety in the Wolf Nation.” Nevan was reduced to blustering. “Once my pack gets the aroma of a mortal in their midst...” He shrugged in a gesture of helplessness.
“Perhaps I could offer a reassurance on that score?” Cal, ever the diplomat, intervened. “Nate is here under my protection. In other words, he is here under my spell. He doesn’t have the aura of a mortal. You will know that already, having been in his company for an extended period of time.” He glanced from Nevan to Roko. Violet was relieved Cal didn’t go further and reveal Nate’s werewolf hunting activities. To do so in this company would be to ensure his instant death.
