Unquenchable Desire

by Lynde Lakes

  Mom’s eyes were red and swollen, Dad’s mouth was set in a grim line, and Uncle

  Hugh had deep worry lines in his face and a slew of new bandages. “I’m sorry I was out all night and worried you, but I smelled wolves and took refuge in a cave. I was afraid to come out until daylight.

  Dad frowned and glared at Brian. “What’s your story?”

  Before her wolf man could mess up her fabrication, she said, “I met Brian on his daily jog and he gave me his shirt and insisted upon seeing me home safely.”

  Dad’s narrow-eyed expression suggested he wasn’t totally buying her trumped-up story, but rather than press her further, he said, “You can’t run loose anymore. A crazed, blood-thirsty wolf attacked Hugh last night and the devil is still out there. Until he’s caught, you’re grounded, even if I have to lock you in the lab.” She had an urge to tell him he couldn’t ground a grown woman of twenty-one, but Uncle Hugh’s injuries smacked of a subject too serious and dangerous to give her dad a hassle. Besides, she suspected they were talking about Reaves, but with Brian here, they didn’t want to spell out family secrets.

  Chapter Five

  Brian had mixed feelings about Valerie’s dad locking her away somewhere. He wanted her out of harm’s way but felt confident now that he knew she was cursed with lycanthropic impulses that he could keep her safe. How could her dad get away with locking a grown woman away? Good God, how old is she? Her youthful looks told him she could be as young as eighteen, but her edgy quips and intelligence suggested she was in her twenties. Geez. I might be in deep doo doo for making love to her. Dear Lord, don’t let her be a minor.

  Why am I getting so involved anyway? Memo to myself: Hang onto your slipping detachment and belief that emotions are dangerous. His stomach knotted. He suspected things were out of balance in his spiritual warp. From experience, he knew this jumbled, upside-down turmoil usually happened during a full moon like the one last night.

  He had to play things smart and keep his mouth shut.

  When he and the Lamont family rounded the mansion to the front entrance, he spied a cool, primed Volkswagen Bug parked in the driveway. A blond guy a little older than himself with a styled, every-strand-in-place haircut was about to ring the doorbell. Hmm. Clearly a rich college boy. The guy had wrapped a jaunty red scarf around his neck and tucked it into the neckline of his long-sleeved white shirt. Even more suspicious on such a hot July morning was his letterman sweater. Guess he wore the heavy knit to flaunt his athletic achievements. The guy’s tailored gray trousers didn’t have a wrinkle. Did Valerie like his type? Brian arched a brow as another interesting question popped into his mind—why had Mr. Fastidious worn garments that covered every inch of his body? What the dickens was Mr. F hiding on this sweltering morning under all those hot clothes? And why the hell do I care?

  Valerie introduced the guy as Rory Mansell. Mansell’s eyes glinted with wary recognition. Brian touched the filigree cross around his neck. He felt sure they’d never met before, yet there was something about this Rory dude that prickled the hairs on the back of his neck.

  Valerie’s family seemed to know him.

  Rory flashed a grin and shoved a dozen roses toward Valerie. “I dropped by to see if you’d go to lunch with me.”

  The grin didn’t reach his eyes and his hard, unblinking stare suggested it wasn’t sincere.

  Valerie’s dad frowned. “Valerie’s been out all night and needs a nourishing breakfast and rest.”

  Brian smiled. Although his new employer sounded like a dictator, at the moment, he liked that about him. He sure as hell didn’t want this college lothario sniffing around Valerie.

  He frowned when Damon added, “But, you’re welcome to stay and eat with us, if you like.”

  Damon glanced at Brian, in what looked like an after-thought. “You’re welcome to stay as well and thanks for seeing Valerie home.” Damon raked a disapproving, icy gaze over Valerie’s near nudity. “Why don’t you march upstairs and change into something more appropriate for receiving guests?” His sharp tone sounded more like an order than a request.

  He turned away as though certain she’d comply without argument. “Come with me, gentlemen.”

  Damon pointed out where the guest bathroom was in case he and Rory cared to use the facility. Next he led them to a classy formal dining room the likes of which Brian had never seen before. He wasn’t sure how to behave in such a swell place. It had high ceilings and the swag drapes went clear to the dome top. It was nothing like the cave he’d lived in or Maggie’s shack with cardboard in the windows to keep out the rain. The rectangular table was beautifully set with sterling silver and classy gold-rimmed china.

  When Brian smelled the faint scent of Jasmine, he turned toward the double oak doors. His breath caught. He stared in awe, unable to stop lusting after Valerie up with hungry eyes. Seeing the sensational, beautiful creature in the yellow, mid-thigh length sundress with her long, lemony hair with golden highlights dusting her shoulders was enough to drive any man to ogle. He had to get a grip on himself and remember his rule about remaining detached.

  Valerie locked gazes with him and he felt like she might be sending him a frantic, desperate signal from deep within the soul of her Bermuda Triangle. He couldn’t read the message but it lifted his spirits that, even for an ninth of time, she bestowed her attention on his lonely heart. He winked, hoping to give support to whatever was going on in her head. Maybe he had a chance in spite of the presence of the richer, better dressed college boy.

  “Wow, Valerie, you look sensational,” Rory said.

  Brian groaned internally. Why didn’t I say that? I was definitely thinking it.

  When the servant rolled a cart into the room loaded with a bounty of steaming food, Brian felt he’d stepped into a forbidden world of plenty where a man raised by wolves and a lonely, bitter recluse definitely didn’t belong. But I’m here now. And Valerie is smiling at me.

  Valerie’s Dad introduced the servant as his houseman, Kyle Cooper. He was a carrot-top with the spiky hair and pale, water-blue eyes. After Kyle served everyone, he reached into the lower level of his serving cart, withdrew a box of chocolates with a big red bow and an envelope, and handed them to Valerie. “From Chuck Nichols, the delivery man. Nichols said he’d wait at the back door for five minutes in case you want to say hi or anything.”

  Brian frowned. Just how many suitors are swarming around? Based on the present number alone, my chances just dipped. And, with her looks and intelligence there are probably more about to crawl out of the woodwork like hungry roaches.

  Valerie gave a small smile, set the candy aside, and read the note. When she finished reading, she said, “Excuse, me, please. I’d better handle this.”

  “Don’t leave the house,” Damon growled. “And come right back; we have guests, you know.”

  She sent him a narrowed-eyed, sidelong glance. “I know, Daddy.”

  Brian stifled a laugh at the sarcastic tone in her voice. You tell him, Val.

  ****

  Valerie sighed. With her issues out of sight, she heard her dad go into financial concepts with Uncle Hugh like diversification and dollar-cost-averaging, terms she’d heard since childhood and was learning to appreciate, but it was probably boring their guests to death. Or maybe not, what did she really know about them? Maybe they found time horizons, risk tolerance, and available funds to invest just too exciting for words. She doubted that Brian caught all that gibberish, but maybe Rory did. He looked like the stiff-collar type who was more into money than people. Thank God her dad could balance those things. In fact, he was so into family that sometimes he drove her crazy, like today.

  Pressured by her confused emotions, Valerie slipped through the huge, spotless kitchen to the back door to talk to the candy-bearing deliveryman, Chuck. It was weird to suddenly find herself dealing with three men who all wanted a piece of her. Her dad would say they all wanted the same thing, but she wasn’t so sure. She forced a grin. “Thank you, Chuck. I c
an only talk a few minutes. Dad’s on a rampage.”

  Chuck looked down at the floor. “I thought maybe we could go to a movie tonight.”

  She winced. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t go out while the moon was still full. She crossed her fingers behind her back. “I’m sort of going with someone.”

  Somehow after seeing the three men, more or less at the same time, she realized Rory and Chuck didn’t really ring her chimes. Should I return the candy? Maybe that would only add insult to injury and make it look like I thought he had ulterior motives for giving me the gift. Which of course, I do. But he doesn’t need to know that.

  Why had Chuck and Rory lost their appeal to her? Was it because her wolf connection with Brian ignited a fire and strengthened a common bond that was impossible to sever? Was that special tie the beginning of love?

  Impossible. She barely knew Brian. She recalled Dad telling her there were two kinds of werewolves—those who embrace wolf tendencies of their free will and those like her family who’d inherited the condition and were merely victims of their birth. If what Brian told her was true, it sounded like he’d been thrust into the same category and perhaps that made their bond even more unbreakable.

  She headed back to the dining room, determined to shut down any interest Rory had in her.

  Kyle had kept her plate warm and she ate quickly. When she finished, she wiped her mouth and said, “May I be excused, everyone? Dad’s right. I’m exhausted and need to hit the sheets for a while.”

  “Good idea,” Rory said. “But later, how about going out to an early dinner with me, say around five-ish?”

  She leaned back in her chair. “Thanks for the invite, but I promised Mom I’d go to the library with her and afterwards Dad wants me to stay in tonight and help him with his account books.”

  Mom looked at Dad. He shrugged.

  Rory narrowed his eyes and curled his massive fists into a tight ball. “But you have to eat.”

  “Right, but I promised Brian I’d personally cook him some lasagna for dinner in thanks for seeing me home.”

  The surprised grin on Brian’s face was priceless.

  The tension in the room soared. Everyone’s eyes shifted to her. Brian’s long, piercing look worried her. It was too early in their friendship to know his expressions. But even though she didn’t know Rory any better, his hard, unblinking stare and tight expression verified he was getting her kiss-off message loud and clear. So why didn’t he back off? Dare she push this tightly-strung guy a little more?

  Rory frowned and folded his arms across his chest. “I thought inviting him for breakfast was supposed to take care of that.”

  “That was Dad’s thank you, not mine.”

  She hated lying and wasn’t very good at it. But she didn’t care as long as the excuse discouraged Rory.

  His gray eyes raked over her like a razor-sharp tongs. “What about brunch tomorrow?”

  She blew out a gust of air and massaged the stiffness at the back of her neck. “I’m going to stay close to home for a couple of weeks.”

  Rory stood. He was silent a moment then asked, “Can we talk outside for a few minutes?”

  Dad stood as well and squared his shoulders. “She’s talked enough. She needs her rest.”

  Rory smirked. “Yes, Sir.”

  Valerie wanted to kiss her interfering father. Thank you, Daddy, she mouthed.

  Rory stood, hesitated, and then said, “Thanks for the breakfast. It was—” Without finishing his sentence, he turned and left the house. Valerie expected the front door to slam, but she barely heard it whisper closed.

  Brian’s eyes glinted. “Are you really fixing Lasagna for me?”

  “Good heavens, no!” she said, feeling exasperated.

  His disappointed expression made her add, “But, after you finish the yard, I’ll give you another sandwich.”

  He grinned. “That’s cool.”

  ****

  Damon swore to himself. The glint of fire in his wife’s eyes told him he was in deep hot water. He’d better explain quickly. He followed Angela as she hurried up the long, winding stairway to their bedroom. Inside, as the door clicked closed, he drew her toward him. Her intoxicating flowery scent wafted around him. He swelled with desire and drew her closer. He lifted her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers, slowly one by one. Then he caressed her ring finger. “Wearing a wedding ring on the fourth finger of the left hand dates back to ancient Egypt.” He kissed her knuckle. “It was believed the vein of love ran from this finger directly to the heart. And seeing you wearing it close to that specific blood flow always excites me.” Had he laid it on too thick? He enfolded her into his arms and pulled her tightly against the heat of his body and tried to kiss her neck.

  She pulled away. “That won’t work this time. What did you think you were doing down there? You can’t order our grown daughter around like that. I want to lock her away, too, but she’s twenty-one and has to learn to handle the curse and men herself.”

  “She too sweet, too polite, and needed help. How many ways did the poor kid have to say no before that jerk took the hint? He kept pressing her until I wanted to punch him.” Damon pulled Angela into the circle of his arms again and kissed her forehead.

  Again, she pulled away. “First you ordered her to get dressed and later you wouldn’t give her a chance to decide if she wanted to talk to Rory outside. A young woman her age deserves the opportunity to prove she can handle herself.”

  “Maybe in a world without the walking dead. Reeves could’ve morphed into anyone, even Rory. Besides, she didn’t want to be alone with him. I saw her mouth the words, thank you, Daddy.”

  Angela took a deep breath and blew it out. “Damon, you can be extremely aggravating. I thought you’d curbed your controlling ways, but after today—He threw his hands in the air. “I don’t need therapy. I’m just worried as hell about our girls, especially Valerie and—”

  “All right, but I think you owe Valerie an apology and a promise to soft-pedal being a dictator dad.”

  He drew Angela back into his arms and gave her a passionate kiss. When he didn’t receive her usual enthusiasm in return, he dropped his hands from around her. “I guess neither of us will feel squared until I go apologize. But keep those luscious lips puckered. I’d like to finish what we’ve started.”

  She laughed and arched a naughty brow. “Don’t I always?”

  ****

  Damon tapped lightly on Valerie’s door. “Are you still awake, Honey?”

  “Come on in, Daddy.” She sounded younger than her twenty-one years and very vulnerable. He remembered how frantic he’d been when she was kidnapped as a little girl and the horror of seeing Lazar shoving her into his car five years ago—and the heart-stopping instant when the car lunged over the cliff and exploded.

  Blinking back the moisture that rushed to his eyes, he opened the door and hurried toward her. He drew his grown baby into his arms. “I’m sorry I over-stepped my bounds during breakfast, and I apologize for not letting you handle Rory, but I don’t like the guy. I think he has an agenda for dating you. Besides, he doesn’t know how to take no for an answer. It’s a man like that who ends up raping women.”

  “Perhaps you’re going a little overboard in your conclusions about him. But I can see why it was so easy for Victoria to dump Mr. Obnoxious.” Valerie gave Damon one of her adorable, dimpled smiles. “Don’t fret, Daddy, you don’t need to worry about me going out with him again.”

  “Who do I have to worry about?”

  She tilted her head and sent him another saucy grin. “I don’t know, Daddy. But I’m sure you’ll think of someone.”

  He winced. She had him down pat. “What’s going on with you and Brian?”

  “Nothing much. But I like him. We can talk about anything.”

  “Anything?” His throat felt dry. “What have you told him about our family?”

  “Nothing that your dictorial ways didn’t give away.”

  “All righ
t. I deserved that. But don’t get in over your head with that young man. He isn’t like us.”

  Valerie laughed. “He’s more like us than you know. He’s a hard worker, and has goals and dreams just like we do. Don’t even try to mess up our friendship, or I’ll go live with Grandma. And don’t even thinking of locking me away like some monster.”

  Damon felt like she’d slapped him. His once timid little girl was threatening him, and the worst part was he believed she had the spunk to follow through. One daughter had flown the coop and he sure as hell wasn’t ready for the other one to leave the nest so soon.

  “Just be careful, Baby, we don’t know much about him.”

  “Don’t worry, Daddy. I’m good at finding out what I need to know about a person. And I promise, he’s one of the good guys.”

  “He’d better be. I plan to keep an eye on him and ask Hugh to do the same.”

  ****

  Reeves fumed all the way back to the college dorm where he lived as Rory Mansell. He lit up a reefer and surfed the internet until he found some arousing porn. The girl had long blonde hair like his niece. What the hell did I do to turn off Valerie’s interest in Rory? The kid, his host-body, was exceptionally well built and his features fantastically good-looking, and he’d mostly controlled his temper. Surely the other two males sniffing after her couldn’t hold a candle to Rory in any category.

  Damn the whole family. It was a double whammy that both twins discarded him. But he’d get even—get even with both of them and the men they’d chosen over him.

  Damon hadn’t changed. He still ordered people around and tried to control everything. But he can’t control me.

  As Reeves watched the naked girl on the screen touch herself, violent images swirled in his mind—blood and the ripped out throats of his past women. Overpowering hatred ate at him like a cancer, and he lusted for revenge. He wanted the Lamont family and everyone connected to them, especially Damon, to suffer a million deaths. Then after everyone suffered to the max, he’d tear out his half-brother’s throat while looking into his eyes.