Victoria's Cat (Daughters of the Wolf Clan Book 2)

by Maddy Barone

  The smiled faded as she watched him walk to the back of the truck. His stride was impatient, maybe irritated. He jerked the canvas up and froze, staring into the truck. “Hastings!” he shouted.

  The medic ran for the other truck. He fell back a pace before hoisting himself into the truck. The lieutenant joined him. Victoria looked at Renee.

  “That’s the truck they tossed Colby into,” Renee murmured.

  Victoria walked over to the truck. Tall enough to be able to see into the truck, which was dim, she could see two bodies on the floor of the truck, both human, both bloody. She didn’t see Colby. An impossible hope flared.

  The lieutenants crouched beside one of the bodies. “What the hell happened here?” he growled.

  The wounded man spoke feebly. “The wolf, sir.”

  “He was dead.”

  “He came back to life, sir.” The man’s hand, bloody and trembling lifted like he was swearing to something in court. “Like a demon out of hell! He tried to kill us, and then he jumped out.”

  A smile curved Victoria’s mouth. She must have made some noise, because the lieutenant’s head swung around. “Do your wolfmen do that?” he demanded. “Come back from the dead?”

  “Of course not.” She tried to tame the smile, but it grew into a joyous laugh. “He must not have been dead.” She mentally added, But you will be soon.

  Jaw clenched, the lieutenant stabbed a finger at one of the men who had approached. “Boland, take the ladies to meet the president.”

  Victoria followed the man, still smiling. She couldn’t see how Colby had survived, but he clearly had. All she had to do was sit back and wait for him to bring help. She sobered a little. Where was Marty?

  Victoria was surprised when the soldier led the way not to the largest tent in camp, but the one beside it. When the clan set up camp, the Alpha’s lodge and those of the leading families were at the center of camp, with others laid out in concentric rings around them. Here, three larger canvas tents were at the front of dozens of rows of small A-line tents all facing one direction in a block. It looked weird to Victoria. She glanced at Renee to see what she thought of the camp, but Renee was looking down at Anna McGrath. The girl was white faced, her lips visibly trembling. Poor kid.

  Two uniformed sentries with rifles held across their chests were posted on either side of the closed door flap. They stood like statues, not even looking at them. The soldier escorting them paused outside. “Mr. President,” he called. “Lady visitors to see you. Permission to enter?”

  There was a moment of silence, and then a voice spoke. “Permission granted.”

  One of the sentries pulled the door flap open, still not even glancing at them. The escort ducked under the flap. Victoria followed, grimly eager to meet her enemy face to face.

  The rectangular tent was divided into two squares, this front room with a table with a roll of paper on it surrounded by four chairs, and another room in back, probably a sleeping room. There were three people in the room, all dressed in the familiar uniform of Kansas-Missouri. Two of them sat at the table and third stood beside it as if he had just risen.

  Victoria examined them, trying to decide which one was the president. The man standing was boyish and slim, with sandy brown hair cut short, bulbous blue eyes, and a weak chin. Probably a secretary of some sort. She dismissed him and looked past him to the men at the table. The one nearest to her had a stocky build with thick, broad shoulders and a face that wasn’t precisely handsome, but she could see how the craggy features would appeal to some. His hair was black generously sprinkled with silver. A hint of curl was controlled by a close cut. He was probably her dad’s age, in his mid to late fifties. The third man had a perfectly proportioned physique that made his uniform look elegant. The gray green fabric was tailored to fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist perfectly. His dark brown hair was thick and neatly trimmed, his face dominated by large liquid brown eyes. Victoria had to suppress a sneer. He was prettier than she was. And he was about her own age, so probably too young to be the president. It must be the rugged one across the table.

  Boland, their escort, snapped a salute to the wimpy-looking guy standing by the table. “Mr. President, Lieutenant Mott asked me to conduct these ladies to you. They are from the train we stopped this morning.”

  Victoria remembered to close her sagging jaw and examined the man again. His face might appear boyish, but a closer look revealed lines around his eyes and mouth, proving that his age was closer to forty than twenty.

  “Where is Lieutenant Mott?” the scrawny man asked. His voice was deep, full, and rich, utterly belying his appearance.

  Boland maintained a rigid posture of attention. “Sir, the lieutenant has been momentarily delayed, but he will be in directly to give his report.”

  “Very good, Boland, you are dismissed.”

  The soldier snapped another salute, turned briskly, and left the tent. The president stepped closer to them with a friendly smile. “Ladies, allow me to introduce myself. I am Gerald Todd, President of Kansas-Missouri.”

  Victoria almost snickered. The all mighty president of Kansas-Missouri didn’t quite come up to her chin. There was a moment that stretched a little too long before Renee replied. “I’m Mrs. Wolfe, and this is my niece, Mrs. Madison.” She pulled Anna a little closer. “And this is my niece, Miss Wolfe.”

  An almost childlike delight lit Todd’s eyes. “Wolfe?” he cried. “From the Indian tribe of werewolves?”

  Victoria clenched her back teeth together to keep herself from correcting him and allowed Renee to do the talking. “That’s right,” Renee said in cold voice.

  The door flap opened and Lieutenant Mott came in. He stood at attention and saluted. “Sir, I am ready to make my report on the taking of the Omaha train.”

  “Splendid. These ladies tell me that they are part of the werewolf tribe.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Todd turned his attention to Victoria. She had heard people talk about undressing someone with their eyes. She was fully dressed, but she would swear his protuberant eyes were seeing her without clothes. His gaze lingered on the curve of her breasts. Where was her coat? It must have been left back on the train, dammit. She drew herself up to her full height, and had to hide a wince when pain burned her side.

  The president frowned, and when he saw at the bloodstains on her blouse, the frown turned into a dark scowl. “My dear lady, have you been hurt?”

  “Yeah, when one of your men shot me.” Sarcasm was thick in her voice. She remembered an instant too late that she was supposed to be a weak, helpless woman. She put one hand over her heart and tried to flutter her eyelashes. “I was terrified. It was dreadful.”

  Victoria didn’t know how, but that weak-chinned face went cold and hard. He didn’t look boyish or secretarial now. He snapped a glare at Lieutenant Mott. “What happened?”

  “Mr. President, one of the men overreacted and fired his weapon. His target was not the lady, but she was grazed by the bullet. Private Hastings cleaned and bandaged the wound. There’s no indication that it is serious. The man who fired has been executed.”

  “Excellent.” The president stepped even closer to take Victoria’s hand. As he bowed over it she noticed a bald patch in his sandy colored hair. “I’m sure the private did his work well, but I’ll send my personal physician to attend you. I deeply regret that you were injured.”

  He brushed his lips over her knuckles and it was all she could do to not clench her hand into a fist and ram it into his weak chin. Instead she forced a smile. “Thank you. When will we be returned to our families?”

  “Not immediately, I’m afraid.” The president stepped back and gestured to the pretty young man. “Josh, will you escort the ladies to the harem and then find Doctor Penrose?”

  “Harem!”

  Victoria’s squawk was either ignored or missed when the older man stood up. He was staring intently at Anna. “What is your name, young lady?”

  The girl’s v
oice was a tiny thread when she said, “Anna.”

  Renee cut in quickly. “This is my niece, Anna Wolfe.”

  The older man’s smile was sardonic. “Really? I’m told the mayor of Omaha has a daughter named Anna, and you resemble him greatly.”

  “This is my niece,” Renee insisted.

  Todd waved a soothing hand. “We won’t worry about that now, Bill. The important thing right now is for Mrs. Madison to be looked over by Doctor Penrose. Ladies, if you will follow Major Ellis, you will be given quarters where you can rest. I will see you later for supper.”

  Lieutenant Mott, the President, and the man he’d called Bill gathered around the table, speaking softly. Renee looked like she wanted to protest more, but closed her mouth and gave Anna an encouraging smile. Dismissed, they followed the pretty man out of the tent.

  The harem was the largest tent. Victoria ground her teeth over that designation. The man had a harem? And took them along when he was ready to conquer a new city? If he expected to make her his newest wife, he was in a for a rude surprise. She was already married. And if he tried to move on her, she would twist that little shrimp into a pretzel.

  There were two guards at the door flap of the harem tent. They wore uniforms instead of lionskin loincloths like the eunuchs that guarded the sultan’s harem in a book she had read. The interior of the harem tent was just as prosaic as the guards. No silken pillows over thick carpets or embroidered hangings separating the rooms. No divans with lounging sultanas. The ground was covered by a plain khaki tarp, and the hangings dividing the tent were of that same material. And the inmates weren’t wearing sheer flowing silks.

  Victoria almost bumped into Renee when she stopped. The six women gathered around a table wore jeans and blouses, and the expressions on their faces ranged from mild interest to something that looked like hate. Hate? Before Victoria could follow up on that thought, Gina Summer leaped up from her chair and hurried toward them.

  “I’m so sorry about Colby,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry about all of this.” She looked past them and her eyes went cool. “Major Ellis.”

  Vitoria thought it was a curse word rather than a greeting.

  “Miss Todd.”

  The major was certainly handsome. Not as handsome as Marty, but his smile lit his already handsome features and turned him into a living work of art. His voice lowered to a seductive purr. Gina’s cool expression didn’t change but she put her hand behind her back, away from his reach. The young major continued to smile. It reminded Victoria of Lieutenant Mott and his persistent, slimy smile.

  “Dear Miss Todd, I’m so pleased to see you safely returned to us.”

  A woman at the table rose. She was a little prettier than Gina, but there was a definite family resemblance. She didn’t look old enough to be Gina’s mother.

  “Major Ellis, won’t you please join us? We were just planning a dinner to celebrate my daughter’s return.”

  “I would be delighted, Second Mrs. Todd, but the president requires my attendance at other meetings this afternoon.” He nodded briefly to Renee, Victoria, and Anna. “These ladies will be the President’s guests. The president and his staff will be joining you for supper.” He sketched a salute that was almost a bow. “Until then.”

  Gina shot his back one poisonous look and turned back to Victoria. “I suppose I should introduce you around.”

  Victoria exchanged a glance with Renee, and they walked to the table. Anna clung to Renee like a leech.

  “This is my mom, Ellen Summer Todd.” Gina pointed to the woman who had invited Major Ellis to join them. The woman gave them a friendly smile and nod. “The woman on the far end is Suzanne Smith Todd, the president’s fifth wife.”

  That woman had a beautiful face surrounded by a waterfall of golden hair and a voluptuous body. Her beauty was spoiled by the scowl on her face. She didn’t nod or smile, just glared at them.

  “The woman next to her is Shelley Parkhouse Todd, the president’s fourth wife.”

  That woman was just as beautiful but somehow more human. Her brown hair was a riot of curls, her smile warm.

  Gina indicated a woman of petite stature, a pretty pixie face, and dark brown hair. “Mrs. Tamra Todd Mayo, the president’s recently widowed sister. And her companion, Janelle Cass.”

  This lovely, slender woman was the president’s sister? She looked too nice to be the president’s sister. Victoria returned her friendly smile.

  Suzanne sniffed. “Companion? She’s a servant.”

  Janelle, blonde and middle-aged, didn’t react, but the president’s sister did. “Janelle is not a servant.” She spoke quietly but firmly, her voice shaded by a Southern accent. “I’ve known her since I was a baby. She’s my friend.”

  Suzanne sneered. “You would think a woman in your position would choose her friends more carefully.”

  Tamra laid her hands flat on the table and leaned forward to meet Suzanne’s sneer. “A woman in my position can choose the friends she wants. Be careful, Suzanne. My brother’s wives can come and go depending on his whim. You are his wife at the moment, but that can change in a second. I was born his sister. That won’t change. Think about that.”

  An uncomfortable silence was broken by Gina’s mom. “Ladies, what kind of an impression are we giving our guests?”

  “Guests?” Suzanne surged to her feet. She jabbed a finger in Victoria’s direction. “Look at her. With that figure, you know he’ll want her to be Sixth Mrs. Todd.”

  Victoria stilled. “Over my dead body.”

  Suzanne cast a venomous look at Shelley, jumped up and ran down the narrow corridor formed by canvas dividers, ducking under one. Muffled sobs sounded. Victoria looked at Renee. Her aunt looked surprised, confused, and slightly disgusted.

  Gina’s mom sighed. “Please, pay no attention to Suzanne. She’s having a difficult time right now. You know who we all are. Come sit down and introduce yourselves.”

  Renee pulled Anna over to the table. Gina came with them and sat beside her mother. Tamra and Janelle carried over two more folding chairs. Renee and Victoria sat and stared at the ladies. After a long silence, the president’s sister bounced in her chair. “Well? Who are you, and where did you come from?”

  Renee answered. “I am Renee Wolfe. This is my niece, Anna Wolfe, and another niece, Victoria Wolfe Madison.”

  Another pause. Mrs. Mayo did not give up easily. “And where did you come from? How did you come here?”

  Victoria kept her mouth shut, not sure how much to say. Renee answered for them again. “We were on a train going home when the Presidents men stopped the train, boarded it, shot the men, and brought us here. I don’t know why we’re here. I don’t know what will happen to us. We are innocent noncombatants in this conflict and we want to go home.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Victoria. “Why are we even here?”

  Mrs. Mayo tapped her fingertips together. “I don’t know. My brother doesn’t discuss political things with me.”

  Gina made a rude noise. “You’re here because my mother’s husband — who is not my father, by the way – is a control freak. I ran away from him. I thought I’d be safe in a place where he didn’t rule, but I was wrong. The reason he took over the train was because I was on it.” Her voice broke and she covered her face with her hands. “I’m the reason those men are dead. It’s my fault.”

  A wave of anger tried to claw its way up Victoria’s throat when she remembered blood in Marty’s hair, but she pushed it back down. Renee shook her head. “It’s not your fault. It’s the fault of that lieutenant, and the men who pulled the triggers, and the president.”

  Gina dropped her hands and her face twisted. “I hate him. He’s not my father. He’s the man who murdered my father so he could marry my mother. Now he wants me to marry one of his flunkies. That’s why I ran away. I won’t do it.” She turned to her mother. “I won’t.”

  “Georgina, hush.” Her mother’s voice was stern. “You don’t know how good we have it now.
I don’t have to worry about seeing you go hungry or wondering how I can protect you. Gerald takes good care of us. You have beautiful clothes, a wonderful home, and everyone knows who you are and respects you. There are a hundred girls who wish they were you. No,” she said when Gina opened her mouth with obvious protest. “He’ll see to it that you have a fine husband. Major Ellis is young and handsome, and has a position of power and wealth. You are a lucky girl.”

  “I am an unlucky girl,” Gina countered. “Gerald Todd is a monster. And that major is even worse.”

  The slap of her mother’s palm across Gina’s cheek was loud. Victoria was so shocked her arms dropped. “That is enough,” Second Mrs. Todd said coldly. “Go and make the guest room ready for our visitors. Janelle, would you please help her?”

  With a murmur of agreement, the blonde got up and ushered Gina out. Second Mrs. Todd turned to Renee and Victoria. “I’m very sorry you had to hear my daughter’s hysterics. She’s at that age where everything is life-and-death. I promise you my husband is not a monster. He’s a powerful man, a decisive man who knows what he wants and gets what he wants. He’s also generous and loving and respectful of women. I have never regretted becoming his wife.”

  “Uh-huh.” Victoria folded her arms and leaned back in her chair. The movement hurt. “I’m not about to become his wife. I already have a husband.”

  Gina’s mom just smiled. “I’m sure you’ll change your mind in time.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.” Victoria waved at the quiet wife, Fourth Mrs. Todd. “You don’t mind sharing a husband? I’ve heard of women with more than one husband but never a man with more than one wife.”

  Shelley Todd shook her head. “I don’t mind at all. I have a wonderful, comfortable life, and I don’t have to bear the burden of all the housework and entertaining myself. I get to share the work with other women.” A faint note of pride colored her voice. “It’s a relief, especially now that I am expecting. I like the other wives, and I like spending time with them. I don’t see anything wrong with that.”