by Bonnie Vanak
Megan slept by his side, her arms wrapped around the girls. His heart turned over at her sweet, innocent expression.
He needed to find them a place to lie low while he regained his strength and found out what the hell was going on.
Gabriel slipped from beneath the blanket.
Megan and the girls slept on.
He looked at her, his mate, the one he would mark for his own, a female of great courage and strength. Thought of how she’d suffered, the indignities and the injustices and the hurts. Gabriel tilted back his head to release a roaring shout.
It came out as a low, mournful howl.
Giving one last glance at the sleeping trio, he ran off into the woods.
Gabriel was gone.
Using water from a small creek, the twins had washed up. Megan bathed and washed her hair. The black dye ran out, leaving the strands their natural honey blond. The twins sat quietly. Hunger pinched their faces. The stale gas station store sandwiches had done little last night to ease their rumbling bellies.
They needed to find food.
A soft rustling in the undergrowth sent her heart racing. A branch snapped as a large gray wolf entered their small compound. Its amber eyes glowed with a fierce light, but it approached with hesitation, as if uncertain of welcome.
“It’s okay, girls. It’s only Gabriel,” she told them softly.
Wonder replaced fear as the twins regarded the monster wolf padding toward them. The wolf opened its jaws and dropped a dead rabbit at Megan’s feet. He looked up at her expectantly, then trotted off, as if he thought he didn’t belong here.
She called softly to him, but the wolf still edged away.
“Gabriel, where are you going?” Jennifer and Jillian called out, as well.
Megan squatted down on her haunches, held out her hand.
I’m here, Gabriel, and I’m not afraid and neither are the twins. Thank you for the rabbit. The girls are so hungry. Have you eaten well? Are you still hurting? Please come back. I’m worried and we need you here with us in case something happens.
The wolf turned back to her. It was important, she realized. The wolf’s first instinct was to protect and defend.
Gabriel loped over to the girls. Jennifer and Jillian rubbed his ears, coaxing out a low, pleasurable whine from the wolf. He sank to his haunches, watching her with amber eyes as she set about preparing the rabbit. After it was spitted and cooking over a small fire, she settled near him, stroking the back of his head.
The wolf watched the girls poke at the fire with long sticks. Even though he clearly enjoyed Megan caressing his gray fur with the pads of her fingers, his eyes did not close and he remained vigilant.
Do you think we can move out by tomorrow?
We must, ma petite chou. I don’t dare risk any more time here. It’s too dangerous.
What about your strength?
The wolf softly growled. I can handle myself.
Okay, she’d hit a sensitive nerve. Megan’s hand stilled on his soft fur as she remembered what she’d discovered yesterday.
There’s something I forgot to tell you. It’s important. When I found the real Angie’s body…
A gust of anguish swept into her mind, sharp and clear. Megan felt his pain over losing someone close.
I should have insisted she stay in New Orleans when she begged to come help in the Shadow network. Why the hell did I let her? She would still be alive.
The wolf’s thoughts, unlike Gabriel in human form, were pure and honest and stark. Megan seized the chance to gain his trust.
I’m sorry, I’m so sorry about what happened to Angie. But it’s not your fault, understand? You are not responsible. It was a decision she made and we can’t be responsible for other people’s decisions.
While caressing behind his ears, she telepathically praised his courage, strength and loyalty. Gradually he relaxed and the icy tide of anguish faded. The wolf finally laid his head between his paws.
Megan, you were saying something about finding Angie’s body. What else did you find?
Despite the hot, sultry Florida air, cold dread curdled in her stomach.
The Morph wasn’t working alone. I found a few Draicon hairs.
Suddenly alert, the wolf sat up. Tell me. What color?
Silver.
Chapter 11
By midafternoon the following day, they were on the move again.
Gabriel had found a cottage to rent by a small lake. The community was quiet, and their closest neighbor was a half-mile away. Best of all, the cabin’s perimeter was surrounded by fenced-off woods, even if Megan doubted it would keep away Morphs.
They ditched the van for an abandoned Chevy at a closed gas station. The Chevy belched blue smoke and its engine wheezed. Springs stuck through the torn upholstery and Megan had to shift her bottom to avoid getting poked. Gabriel was concerned the van had a tracking device in it. She felt safer in the Chevy than the van, which was like “waving the scent of fresh meat before a bayou gator,” as he put it.
“The van has our scent stamped all over it. I’m not taking chances,” he told her.
He’d used a credit card with a fake name to rent the house. Gabriel was like an international spy, she realized. He had more means of identification than the average person. The network for helping Shadows had been well secured. Until now.
Driving west on Highway 60, he turned on a long stretch of two-lane road flanked by pastures and woods. Sugar sand spilled down an embankment.
“We’ll stay here only a couple of days, chère. I just need a base to work from until I find out how many in the network have been compromised, and where to go from here.” He grimaced and held a hand to his side.
“And rest,” she urged. “You must rest, Gabriel.”
“I will, ma petite chou.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s Cajun for ‘my little cabbage.”’
At her outraged look, he grinned. “Translated into ‘sweetheart.’ An endearment.”
Shortly before dusk, he pulled into a dirt road flanked by sprawling trees.
While Gabriel prowled the property’s perimeter to shield the boundaries against Morphs, the twins explored the house. With their typical efficiency, they had found a room to sleep in, hauled in all the luggage and discovered a bag of cookies in the pantry.
They were sitting at the oaken kitchen table, eating, when she walked in.
“There’s only two bedrooms so guess you and Gabriel will have the big one. Jilly and me already claimed the one with the two small beds,” Jenny crowed.
Megan turned to hide her telltale flush. “Jilly and I.”
“I like Gabriel,” Jillian chimed in. “I was so afraid he would die, but when Jenny pulled the bullet out of him, I felt his pain ease. And then you sang, Megan, and it really helped him. He’s not dreaming of fire anymore.” She reached for a chocolate chip cookie.
Jenny looked solemn. “He needs you, Megan. I feel it, too. When can we have dinner? I’m hungry.”
She kissed the top of her cousin’s head. “Me, too, sweetie. Stay here, I’m going to unpack.”
The larger bedroom had a king-sized bed covered with a bright blue homespun quilt. A pleasurable shiver skated down her spine as she thought of Gabriel’s big body covering hers while they rolled between the sheets. Megan tossed her backpack on the bed and removed the dirty laundry. She found a washing machine and tossed in a load with the girls’ soiled clothing, then returned to the bedroom. With some hesitation, she removed the tiny china figurine from her knapsack. It was her most precious item.
The house felt warm and welcoming. The pine chest of drawers was empty. She set the figurine on top.
“Now it looks like home,” she whispered. “Will I ever have a real home again?”
Gabriel came in through the kitchen’s back door, stomping mud off his boots. “Good property. No scents, except a few animals and boar. Small game adequate for you to hunt later, Megan. I need a shower and then I�
�ll go into town to get supplies. We’ll hole up here for at least three days.”
He peeled off his damp shirt.
Her breath sucked in at the magnificent sight of his bare chest. His torso was flat and studded with muscle. A line of hair marched downward, vanishing into the waistband of his faded jeans.
She studied the bullet scars, marveling at how well he’d healed.
When she drew back, sexual heat flared in his eyes. Gabriel ran a finger down her cheek.
“Tomorrow night,” he murmured. “By then I’ll be at full strength. And then I’ll make you mine.”
Anticipation shivered through her.
After lunch the following day, Gabriel vanished.
He’d spent the night on the sofa to “avoid temptation,” as he had put it. The easy atmosphere had eased them into a relaxed routine. It was possible to imagine they were a family, and this was their cozy cottage.
Looking up from a home and country magazine, she glanced at the window. In the backyard, the twins played on the swing.
Megan went to find Gabriel.
The front yard was large and grassy and sloped down toward the lake. Gabriel stood at the wooden dock.
She watched him for a moment, a different kind of hunger growing inside her. What would it finally feel like to be in his arms, having him hold her close as they made love?
She shivered as she remembered other males who’d wanted her for another, more sinister reason.
Gabriel glanced over his shoulder and cracked an encouraging smile. “Chère. You all right? You look like there’s a gator chasing you.”
“Better an alligator than what is chasing us.” She stood beside him, feeling the sexual tension thicken between them. Megan breathed in his enticing scent of pine and leather and man. “Sometimes I wonder if I can ever stop moving from place to place. It’s so unsettling.”
“I know.” His gaze hardened as he stared at the lake. “I’ve never lived anywhere longer than three years. Not since I was nineteen. My parents asked me to find my own place. Said it was best for everyone.”
The quiet, rare admission touched her. “What about your pack? They’re your family, your life’s blood.”
“They thought it was a good idea, too.”
She wanted to ask more, but he tensed. “We need to talk. I’ve put off telling you this because you needed to rest and so did the girls. I don’t know who is chasing us, how they found out the one safe house I’ve kept secret for so long. That Morph wasn’t there by chance. Someone set us up.”
“The silver-haired man.”
His jaw clenched as he braced his palms on the wood railing. “He’s good. Too good. Like a bounty hunter, he’s learned to tamp down his scent and use any means at hand to catch and kill his prey.”
“What about other safe houses?”
“Too risky. By now the entire network’s been compromised. Someone’s been leaking information about the locations.”
She sucked in a trembling breath. “Why is the silver-haired man chasing us? What does he want? The twins. Or me? I’ve had trouble before with men….”
Gabriel turned and placed his warm palms on her shoulders. “What kind of trouble, Megan?”
Embarrassed, she could not meet his gaze. He tipped up her chin with one finger. “Hey, you can tell me, darling. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”
Megan finally met his gaze. “Men…they’ve started to steal away female Shadows. For sex. There are Draicon mercenaries kidnapping Shadows for pleasure houses on Shadow Island.”
Anger dawned in his dark chocolate eyes. “Forced prostitution.”
Words stuck in her throat. She forced them out. “Draicon believe that sex with a female Shadow is the ultimate aphrodisiac. They especially like the untouched, because it’s said virgins enhance a male’s own magick. It’s one reason Gram kept moving us, to try to keep me hidden. Six, maybe eight times in the past year. I lost track. Once, twice, we were homeless and had to sleep on the beach.”
The horror of those times sliced into her mind. Leering faces of the mercenaries chasing them, taunting her with the things they wanted to do. The rain dripping on her neck from the palm trees. Damp cold biting into her grandmother’s ancient bones, despite the blankets Megan heaped on her. The brave front of the twins as they ignored the constant grumbling of their empty stomachs.
“The governor is in on the scheme. His staff tattooed me. They said it was to keep track of the Shadows on the island, but only the younger females get them. I’m number 00-44. I found out the ink had a special tracking device so I had Gram…cut it out.”
The agonized pain of that crude surgery was still fresh. Men saw her only for her body. They didn’t care about her as an individual, how she liked to hunt for shells at low tide, or how seeing photos of the twins’ mother made her weepy and reminded her of losing her own parents ten years ago. How her favorite pastime had been teaching the Shadow children about their world, trying to expand their visions and give them hope for a better tomorrow.
Gabriel gave her a tender, searching look. “Megan, you are much more than what they think of you. You’re safe now, and no one will ever force you against your will. Understand?”
He slid a hand around the back of her neck, his strong fingers curling around her nape. Gabriel began a soothing massage. “You’re Megan, not a number. You’re exceptional and unique and no one can ever take that away from you. Never let them. You have so much more to offer the world.”
His thumb stroked over the scarred flesh on her nape, assuaging her fears and painful past. Megan closed her eyes, savoring the heat from Gabriel’s gentle touch as it chased away bitterly cold memories.
When he pressed his mouth against hers, touched the corner of her mouth with his, his kiss was a reassurance.
Hot tears stung her eyes. She blinked them away furiously, and turned aside. Being this vulnerable caught her off guard. It was oh so tempting to lean against his strength, let him absorb her pain, but he shared little in return. She wanted more than a man who would hold her when she cried.
She needed one who allowed her to hold him when he cried, as well.
“I ran away to save myself, but the girls are my first priority. I have to get them to New Orleans.”
“Why?” The question was stark, demanding.
“I have a sealed letter from my grandmother that I’m supposed to deliver to someone who will help them.”
Gabriel’s expression grew wary. “The letter may explain why this man is so intent on finding you. He’s become a damn Morph to gain more power, he’s that desperate or that evil. This kind, I know him. He won’t quit until he has what he wants.”
A shiver went through her at the dangerous glow in his eyes. Gabriel was equally ruthless. He would not relent, either.
“Who’s getting the letter?”
Her hands gripped the wood railing. “Someone you know quite well.” It was time to tell him. “Your brother, Alexandre Robichaux. The man who’s known to all Shadows as the one who helps them gain new identities.”
A frown creased his brow. “I know what Alex does, it’s the system we both set up to aid Shadows. But why would your grandmother write him? All you need are the correct code words and those are always memorized.”
“It’s a letter to Alexandre asking for a favor. Gram wants him to try to find the twins’ real father.”
“I don’t get it.”
A gust of wind skated across the lake. She rubbed her suddenly chilled hands. “The twins have never known their father. They were left on Shadow Island by their mother shortly after she gave birth, and Sissy gave them to our grandmother to raise. She said it was safer for them on the island. This was before the council made it into a prison. Sissy, my cousin, said that the world outside was cold and heartless to Shadows. She’d experienced it even among her mate’s family; his parents kept trying to keep her from using her Shadow powers, to fit into their world instead.”
“Megan, we need to open t
hat letter. It could be the reason the silver-haired man has followed you.”
“Do you think he’s the twins’ father? He’s trying to kill them so no one knows he fathered Shadows?”
Her racing heart slowed as Gabriel stroked her hair. “No, chère. I didn’t sense that when I picked up his trail back on my island. It almost seemed like he wasn’t even after the girls.”
“Me? Could he be another Draicon mercenary?”
“Maybe.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You’re blond.” Amusement threaded through his deep voice. “Guess your disguise washed out.”
“So are the girls. They look a little like their mother. This beautiful shade of white-blond that catches the light and tosses it back like diamonds on water.”
Gabriel went still. “Not many Draicon or Shadows have that color. I knew someone…”
“What?”
“Later. I’m going to patrol the property. We’ll open the letter when they’re in bed, in case the news is something that might upset them. Let the girls get into a normal routine, chère. They know you best and it will be good for them. These kids have been under too much stress, seen too much. It will be good for you, as well. I don’t want them using their powers. The spectral trail they may leave could attract the wrong attention.”
“The girls never use their powers without permission. We teach our children when they are young Shadows to curb their impulses, and discipline them when they use their magick without our permission. They’re only allowed it to save themselves or others from extreme danger. And the trail they leave is so faint, it takes a lot of power to flush it out.”
“If only Draicon knew, maybe they wouldn’t fear Shadows as much. They fear what they don’t understand. Some day, maybe they will.” He curled his hands into tight fists. “This new governor, he’s worse than I heard. Females should be revered and protected, not abused.”
She gave a sad smile. “If only other Draicon thought as you did. Shadows I knew were captured as sex slaves. I cried when they tattooed me, thinking I’d suffer their fate, too.”
