“I was trying to win you, and protect you. And you made it so goddamn difficult,” Leone said.
“I had no assurances you weren’t going to use me up like before. And once I found out there was a code, I knew I was being used in some way. I just couldn’t figure out how. And by the time I did, it was far too late for me to trust you, or any of the Garouls. You should have come clean from the start.”
They were sitting opposite each other now. Arms wrapped around knees, curled in their respective corners.
“I can only tell the Garoul secret to my mate, and I didn’t have time to win back your love. If you hadn’t been replacing Connie, you would never have found out about the code. If you’d just come for a visit, I could have wooed and won you. And then told you the truth. But until I claimed you as my mate, there was no way I could let you know.”
It was a weird, circular logic, but Amy could see the dilemma. It was laughable. If she’d let herself easily fall back in love with Leone, she’d have been told about the code almost from the start. But instead she had resisted because of their history, and found the code all by herself. All that had done was seed even more distrust between them.
“Leone, are the Garouls the only werewolf family, is everyone else a rogue wolf? Like Virgil, or Elicia? Turned after an attack.”
“Usually humans don’t survive an attack. And if they do, the shock of mutation on their system normally kills them soon after. Virgil and Elicia are rare, but not unique. There are rogue werewolves out there, but not as many as the movies would make you think. The majority are born into a clan like the Garouls. There are many ancient families all over the world.” She plucked nervously at the cord around her ankle until Amy reached over and slapped her hand.
“Stop that.”
“What is it for? You’ve got one, too.” Leone pointed at Amy’s bare feet. Amy handed her the spell book.
“Look under Charms.”
It was a spell called Wander less.
A binding and a span for each year parted.
A triple knot to hold your lover close.
Bind left foot and journey’s never started.
The thread will break when spell holds fast.
“Oh, Amy. You don’t need magic for that.”
“How can I be sure you won’t hurt me? If you become a wolf and want to…mate?” This was the heart of the matter for Amy. Though she knew beyond all doubt that Leone wanted her, for Amy it had to be more than just being claimed.
She wanted to be loved, and furthermore, loved forever. She wanted to come home and to be held there, with care and comfort, and never have to go away again. The world was a cold, calculating place, but she could survive in it, and had done so easily. But she was always alone, scattered and incomplete. A half heart.
Now, in this valley of utter madness, of werewolves, and potions, and spell casting, she had discovered the ability to love again. She had traveled the world over, but here was where all the love in her life was held.
“If you were my mate that wouldn’t happen. I would always be in human form when we made love. I would never hurt you. I chased you at the river because I thought you were leaving me. I was always nervous you might not accept me once you found out what I was.”
“Now I know, and I want to understand how it might be for us.”
“My sex drive will be stronger, and some nights I’ll want you over and over. I never really get enough of you…ever. But I’ll never be wolven. I’d end up hurting you.”
“What about Connie and Marie?”
“What about them?”
“I saw scratches on Marie.”
“From Connie. A wolven mating is more…active.”
“Oh.” Amy blushed. “Have many Garoul mates crossed over to the wolven side? I know Connie had to, and Patrice wanted to for Claude. But any others?”
“It’s dangerous. I’d never ask you to. It’s something you have to want.”
Amy mulled this over. “Has a Garoul ever entered a…a life bond with any of the other wolven families?”
Leone shook her head. “I’ve never heard tell of it. Not to say it didn’t happen in old Europe.” She shrugged.
“Leone. Tell me what the code actually does?”
“But you broke it.”
“Only a line or two. What I mean is, what information does it contain that’s worth getting killed for? Is it a treasure map? Does it bestow some great supernatural power?”
Leone laughed, “No. It’s a sort of rulebook and survival guide all rolled into one. Some of the recipes and infusions help with wounds and transmutation. There’s medical advice, pack etiquette, and general news. It tells of our origins and the history of our pack. And most importantly, everything you’d need to know to pass in the human world. It’s used to educate and inform. No gold, no magic powers, just good old-fashioned knowledge. It’s just an ancient handbook.”
“So new code is hidden every year in the almanacs.”
“Yes. Since the Middle Ages, when we started to disperse from southern France. The almanacs were how the Garouls kept in touch, then and now. We have other, more modern methods now. We own Ambereye, a software development house, where we embed information in computer programs, for instance.”
“Wow. Who’s it for? Who reads it?”
“We do. All of us, from all over. The software is in games for the kids to play and learn about their heritage. Mom is the Alpha and it’s her job to maintain our historical records and information gathering, and to pass it on to the next generation. I’m in training to take over her role as her firstborn daughter. The Garouls are matriarchal, so command passes down the maternal line to females only.”
“So you’ll always be tied to Little Dip,” Amy said.
“Yes. I will spend most of my life here. If I had a mate I would want her to share the valley with me.” She looked over at Amy. “Could you do that? After all the traveling you’ve done, places you’ve been, would Little Dip ever be enough?”
“Leone, this place has always been home. I’ve struggled all these years to stay away. This is where I want to be, because the people I love are here.”
“They are?”
“They are.”
Leone thought this over. “Are the people you love in this room?”
“They are.”
Leone made a play of looking around her. “There’s only me in this room.”
“There is.”
Leone gave the brightest smile and reached for Amy, pulling them prone on the couch. She winced and wriggled into the cushions for comfort.
“You’re still sore.” Amy eased her weight off Leone, concerned she was hurting her.
“Not much. Maybe you could kiss me better. Somebody shot me, don’t ya know.”
“Somebody grazed you in a firearm accident that you initiated. Where’s my lucky bullet, by the way?”
“Paulie dug it out of a tree. If you kiss me better it could be my lucky bullet, too.”
In response Amy pushed Leone flat and carefully straddled her waist. Gently, she opened the buttons of Leone’s shirt and laid bare the bright red scars that crisscrossed her breasts and stomach.
“Oh, Leone. It looks so painful.”
“Nah. I’m healing really well. Look, the bastard nearly got a nipple.” Leone pointed in outrage.
“Poor baby. Maybe I should kiss it all better.” Delicately Amy dropped butterfly kisses along each and every scar line. Beginning at Leone’s belly, she worked her way up to the crinkled nipple. She nuzzled it into a hardened nub, caressing it with her tongue. Breaking away with a playful nose rub on the pouting tip, she said, “Is that enough medicine?”
Leone looked up at her in consternation. The game had ended much too soon.
“What about this one?” She pointed to her other nipple.
“It wasn’t injured.”
“But it was scared. It needs reassurance.”
“You are such a chancer, Garoul.” But Amy dropped her head and
drew the tip into her mouth, gently sucking it to a firm point. She teased until Leone squirmed under her.
“You have the most beautiful body I’ve ever seen,” Amy whispered into the scars.
Leone awkwardly drew her into her arms. They lay face-toface.
“You seen many naked women, then?” Leone tried to sound casual.
“Some. A few.” Amy realized she was being asked about her former sex life.
“Oh.”
“It’s been seven years, Leone. We’ve both had our share of lovers. Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”
“No, no. I’m not. I was just wondering. It was a stupid question.”
“It’s okay.”
They lay looking into each other’s eyes.
“Was there ever anyone special for you?” Now Amy was curious.
“No,” Leone reassured her quickly. “Never. No one.”
“No one?” Amy found it hard to believe this woman had not been snapped up a hundred times over. Was Oregon myopic?
“No one.”
“What. You were just a player? Big Stud Runamok?”
Leone laughed at the moniker. “I’m only amok for you. There’s been no one. No one at all.” She swallowed anxiously. Her eyes locked with Amy’s. “No one. Just you…Only you.”
Leone lay there, totally exposed. Her breath stilled. She looked into the depths of Amy Fortune’s soul, trying to read it. Would she be any less for her confession?
There were many ways to say, “I love you,” to say, “There has only ever been you,” or “I will wait for you forever”…and Leone had said it the only way she knew how. Year after year, alone and waiting. Cradling her half a heart, until now, when the missing half had at last returned. Her wait was finally over.
Amy was mute, stricken at the magnitude of these two little words. No one.
Leone had waited for her all this time—and no one. All the pain, rejection and humiliation she had carried for years—and no one? Two words. Five letters. Five stupid little letters. No one. All this time…
“Does that make me someone?” she whispered.
Hours later, Amy’s eyes eventually drooped. She had been loved and adored, her body satisfied to the edge of distraction. Her heart was full and content. And now she begged Leone for sleep.
Leone lay beside her and watched until she knew Amy was in deep slumber. Only then did she slip away from their bed and walked naked out onto the porch. The night breeze was sharp and chill, and it thrilled her heated skin.
The full moon was coming around again, ripening in its cycle to the point when it would pour preternatural energy down upon this planet. Then all the dark creatures of the night would honor their golden, lunar goddess.
Leone’s blood stirred and her flesh tightened. Energy flowed through her like quicksilver. She would hunt tonight, the first time since her kill. Since ridding the valley of rogues.
She left the shadows of the porch and moved to the central clearing. There she stood and looked to the stars, and the heavy crescent moon. Silently she thanked her lunar mother for her wolven heart, for her loving family, and for Amy Fortune, her one true mate.
Then she flung back her head and howled her heart out.
About the Author
Gill McKnight currently lives in Greece alongside snakes, scorpions, and spiders bigger than her head. When not scribbling in a notebook or pecking away at her laptop, Gill tries to learn Greek and survive riding on her rattly, secondhand scooter. She has secret fantasies about growing lavender and hanging straight shelves in a crooked house.
Books Available From Bold Strokes Books
The Seduction of Moxie by Colette Moody. When 1930s Broadway actress Violet London meets speakeasy singer Moxie Valette, she is instantly attracted and her Hollywood trip takes an unexpected turn. (978-1-60282-114-9)
Goldenseal by Gill McKnight. When Amy Fortune returns to her childhood home, she discovers something sinister in the air— but is former lover Leone Garoul stalking her or protecting her? (978-1-60282-115-6)
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The Reluctant daughter by Lesléa Newman. Heartwarming, heartbreaking, and ultimately triumphant—the story every daughter recognizes of the lifelong struggle for our mothers to really see us. (978-1-60282-118-7)
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