Roark knew they would never hurt each other. It was what brothers did. Grown or not. Tammy wouldn’t know that being an only child and a girl at that. “You are their queen. You make them stop.” He received a frown for his retort.
“Fine.” She straightened her backbone, raised her chin like he was getting accustom to seeing her do when she took control. Cautiously, she stepped beyond the safety of the tree and moved toward Stephen and Franc. “Stop it, you two.” When they didn’t immediately release each other she stepped closer. “Right now,” she stated firmly. “This is not becoming of the king’s guards.” She sounded like a mother hen chastising her chicks.
“Now,” Stephen yelled as his hand snaked out and caught Tammy by the ankle. She released a high-pitched cry of surprise, throwing her arms into the air, flailing, before landing along side of them. Franc was quick with the handful of snow he had secreted away and smashed it right into her face.
Her wide-eyed expression was priceless. But the brothers weren’t through with her. They pelted her with one snowball after another before she could crawl to her feet. She swayed, brushing away the flakes from her face. She looked like a snowman—woman, ready for Christmas.
“R-R-Roark.” She sputtered clearing the ice from her mouth, but he was caught in a fit of laughter. His mate had received her just deserts. “Ohhh…” She scowled. “You think this is funny?” He couldn’t answer her for the tears in his eyes.
When she bent low, he knew exactly what she intended. “Don’t do it, Tammy.” Before she could release the ball, two other ones smacked his jacket, knocking him off balance. He stumbled and fell the rest of the way when his mate rammed him. Roark reached out, taking her with him. Together they tumbled to the ground, Tammy face first.
For a moment, she didn’t move and Roark feared the fall had hurt her. It began only slightly, a timid movement, then her shoulders began to shake, a stream of laughter followed. Covered in snow she rolled upon her back. “I don’t remember when I’ve had so much fun.” She looked up at him and Roark thought he’d melt. “Thank you.” He was about to pull her to him, when Franc and Stephen approached. They stood over them, chuckling.
“Trouble. I tell you she’s trouble,” Stephen said staring down at Tammy. She kicked a leg out, but he avoided it by jumping aside.
“Were they like this the whole trip?” Franc asked, shaking his head.
“The whole way,” Roark confirmed.
Franc extended Roark his hand. “Must have been painful for you. Looks like I got the easy job of facing the pack.”
Roark hadn’t forgotten about that particular detail. He just hadn’t had the opportunity to speak with his guards after he and Tammy rose this evening. As he spoke to Franc, Stephen assisted Tammy to her feet. His guard raised his hand as if to brush the snow from her clothing, and then he stepped back, allowing Roark to take over. “You need to get out of those wet clothes.”
As Roark and Tammy walked hand in hand back to the cabin, Franc talked. “The pack is hesitant, but willing to accept the queen. Martin is her biggest supporter. If he can look past the death of his son, most of the pack can as well.” Snow crunched beneath their feet. “In all honesty, I’m a little surprised.” His gazed darted toward Tammy. “No disrespect, my queen.”
“Tammy,” she said.
Franc nodded.
“As you are aware, Martin has a lot of pull in the pack. It has been a long time since we have had a queen. Everyone is curious about the queen— Uh, Tammy.” Franc stumbled over her name as if he was having a problem between the formalities he felt were due her. “Yes, there is some fear—the legend has been conveyed over and over. The undead perspective is what troubles them the most. Of course, it didn’t hurt that Manny has professed her beauty and made her into a fairy princess amongst our people.”
Tammy blushed. The worry that had dulled her eyes when Franc began speaking seemed to lift with each of his words. Yet Roark knew Franc. There was something in his delivery, a piece missing he wasn’t sharing. For Tammy’s sake, Roark would wait until he and Franc were alone to uncover it.
As they entered from the back porch of his cabin, Roark stomped the snow from his boots. The rest did the same. A finger beneath Tammy’s chin, he kissed her nose. “Go upstairs and change.”
Tammy frowned. “There’s something Franc did not say?”
“You’re being paranoid. We have guests or I’d join you, that’s all,” he lied. When she hesitated, he thought she saw through him. He breathed a sigh of relief when she marched from the kitchen. They each took a seat around the large pine table. The scent of stew simmering on the stovetop made his stomach growl. Lonnie had been busy. When Roark was sure Tammy was out of earshot, he turned to Franc and raised a brow.
“Your cousin has been busy.” Franc scraped the legs of his chair across the floor as he scooted it closer to the table. “He has gathered a small following. Layton has worked throughout the night to convince the pack, especially the women, that their men will fall under the Black Widow’s spell.”
Roark’s eyes widened. “Black Widow?”
“That’s what Layton is calling her. He repeated what happened to Manny. I’m afraid the admiration Manny has shown for our queen has backfired.”
“Well shit.” Roark rubbed his hand over his damp hair. As he studied the swirling grain in the table, he pondered the situation. If he’d learned anything it was to never underestimate women. They could be more deadly than a male wolf if their children or mates were threatened. Stephen cleared his throat, bringing Roark’s head up. “There’s more?”
“A town meeting tonight.” Stephen glanced toward the microwave glowing eight forty-five “It starts in fifteen minutes.”
Roark pushed from the table and stood. “Let me change clothes, talk to Tammy, and then we’ll go.” He stopped at the door leading into the front room. “One of you must stay with her. Stephen?”
“Of course. I’ll just run over to my place and change.”
“Okay, be back in ten.” Roark heard the back door slam as he headed for the stairs taking them two at a time. At the top he paused. What the hell was he going to say to her? Drawing closer to their bedroom door, he could scent her perfume—and orchids? He pushed the door open hearing water splash. He followed the sound into the bathroom. There amongst a million bubbles lay his mate. A tranquil expression softened her face as she soaked in the large Jacuzzi tub.
Without opening her eyes, she said, “Joignez-moi?” She exhaled softly. “Join me?” Her hair was pinned atop her head. She was a vision of seduction.
Roark wanted nothing more, but it wasn’t in the cards. “Baby, there’s a town meeting shortly. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Stephen will be down stairs if you need him.” Okay, that wasn’t too bad.
Slowly her eyes opened. She eased into a sitting position. Bubbles hid her delectable breasts from his sight. “I’m going with you.”
“It’s better if you don’t.” He kicked off his shoes and started to strip out of his coat, jeans and sweater. “Truth is Layton, my cousin, has stirred up several of the folk. I just want to put their minds to ease. Relax, baby, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He disappeared into the walk-in closet off the bathroom and grabbed some clean clothes. When he returned to the bathroom she was still sitting in the tub.
Tammy swallowed hard. “You don’t want me go?”
He jerked on his pants, leaning against the counter to roll a sock on one foot, before switching feet and donning the other sock. “It’s not that. I don’t want you hurt by his comments. Layton can be cruel.” Roark stood and pulled a sweater over his head.
“You don’t think I know what they’re saying?” Her broken laughter made him stop midway of pulling on his boot. “Do you think your people are any kinder than Marcellus’s? I’m a freak in their eyes. Wouldn’t it be better if they saw firsthand the demon that I am?” She stood. Soap slithered down her body.
He slid his foot all the way into his boot and the
n went to her and cupped her cheeks. “Please. Wait for me. I won’t be long.” A knock on the bedroom door put him into action. He grabbed his other shoe and headed for the door. When he opened it and stepped into the hallway Stephen met him.
“Franc and Manny are waiting downstairs. Creighton and Bryant are with them.” Two more of Roark’s guards. “I hear it’ll be a full house. Good luck.” Stephen shook Roark’s hand.
Roark pulled the bedroom door closed before tugging on his boot. “No matter what happens keep her safe. Get her to Donne immediately if— Just get her to Donne.” Stephen gave him a friendly pat on the back and they both turned toward the stairs.
Roark was not looking forward to the night ahead.
Chapter Sixteen
“This is bullshit.” Tammy paced the length of the bedroom again. Her ankle boots clicked across the wooden floor. She started toward the door to join Roark and then pulled to a halt. His guard dog would stop her. “He’d have to catch me first.” Well, that was smart. Even if she made it past Stephen she had no idea where to go. She had yet to take in the town. In fact, this evening Roark pretty much hid her from the very people that were supposed to call her their queen.
Tammy glanced at the clock above the fireplace for the hundredth time. Ten o’clock. Roark had been gone for an hour. Even the garland draping the mantel didn’t cheer her up. She tugged nervously at the cowl neckline of her oversized red sweater.
The sudden ring of the telephone startled her and she pressed a palm to her chest. As the ringing continued, she moved toward the telephone and picked up the receiver. “Hello.”
“My pet, how’s it going?”
As if all bone mass in her legs deteriorated, Tammy plopped down on the bed. “Marcellus?” She clutched the receiver. “Oh, Marcellus, I wish you were here.” It was the truth. She missed him horribly.
“What’s the matter?” His anxiety bled through the line.
Her chin quivered and she fought to hold it together. “Roark is at a town meeting.”
“That can’t be good. Where are you?”
“In Roark’s cabin.”
“Alone?”
“No. Stephen is downstairs.”
“Tamanen, I know this is tough on you, but Lanier knows what he’s doing. If he thought it best for you to remain behind, there is a reason. Trust him.”
“I do, but—”
“But what, my pet?”
“I hate this.”
“I know. Sit tight. I hope to join you tomorrow night.”
The click on other end of the telephone was deafening. Tammy set the telephone back in its cradle and rose from the bed. Maybe she could convince Stephen to take her to Roark. Reaching for the door, she heard a crash and then another. She swung open the door and raced toward the stairs coming to a screeching halt at the first step. The scent of blood filled her nose and awakened her hunger. She had fed upon rising, but there was something more that gnawed at her gut. Tammy didn’t need to see to know that violence had made a visit. It hung heavy in the air.
“Stephen,” Tammy cried, as she flew down the stairs. He lay unconscious on the floor beside the couch. Blood oozed from a gash to the back of his head pooling around him. She kneeled beside him and pressed two fingers to the pulse in his neck. It beat, but sluggish. She needed to get help.
Without thinking, she sprung to her feet and raced for the door, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw Lonnie. The woman who had taken care of her and made her feel welcome lay in a puddle of blood. Her neck ripped open, her body covered in cuts and scrapes. Nauseated, Tammy knelt to feel for a pulse—one that didn’t exist.
Tammy gagged, cupping her mouth, even as the blood and violence called to her like it had when Roark fought the wolf. She pushed to her feet, slipping in the blood, falling only to rise and stagger forward. Her beast raged inside, itching to be set free. It raised its head, sniffed the air. She recognized a scent. The unusual aroma ran through her memory banks, but she didn’t come up with a face to go with it. Or maybe she just didn’t know enough to understand what she scented, because she would have sworn she detected a vampire amongst the lycanthrope.
Trying to figure out who was to blame was wasting time. There was no hope for Lonnie, but she could save Stephen—had to.
Tammy jerked the door open, nearly pulling it from its hinges with her preternatural strength and ran out into the street. Snow was lightly falling as she trudged through its depths. Tears blurred the Christmas lights on each of the homes she passed. She didn’t know where she was going, until she heard the sounds of people shouting. In the distance, lights from a large building in the center of town glowed brightly. As she drew closer, Tammy could hear arguing. The words weren’t clear as her mind became hazy. She couldn’t shake the scent of blood that intensified her thirst. She needed to feed, but not before she saved Stephen.
Someone screamed, but she ignored them, focusing on the door—on getting to Roark. Just as she reached for the doorknob, the door flung open and Tammy stumbled and fell to her hands and knees. It was then she realized her hands were covered in blood. When she looked up she stared into condemning eyes. There were all around her.
“Tammy.” She heard Roark’s voice as he pushed his way through the crowd. “What happened?” He pulled her into his arms and began to smooth his hands over her.
“Not me. Stephen. He’s hurt.” She licked her lips tasting blood and her vision blurred. Spasms clenched her belly. She barely got the words out, “Lonnie’s dead,” before another spasm twisted her abdomen. “Help me,” she whispered holding on to him. “I don’t know how much longer I can control it.”
“Black widow,” someone yelled from the back. “She’s killed again.” The low rumble of the crowd built into a roar.
“No.” Tammy grasped the sides of Roark’s jacket. “I didn’t do it.” Oh God. She hadn’t even thought that this would be blamed on her, which made her a complete idiot. Of course, they would believe she was guilty.
“Franc, take Manny and check on Stephen. Creighton, determine who is missing amongst us.” The tall, lanky man with sable began to look around the room as Roark issued orders one after the other and then turned to her. “Tell me what happened.” His expression was cold as he pinned her with a glare.
“I didn’t do it,” Tammy repeated frantically. “Please make them believe me.” She shuddered as hunger gnawed at her belly.
“I know, baby. Just tell me what happened.” All color drained from his face. “It’s bad. I can feel it.” He pulled her arms from around him, stood, and leaned down to pick her up. “Try to hold on.”
Held in Roark’s embrace was both heaven and hell. The swish of his blood flowing freely through his veins caused her to snuggle up to his neck. But the penetrating eyes that followed them made her cling tighter to her control. Her mouth salivated. Twice she almost gave in as he moved through the snow that began to fall harder all around them.
His boots were loud against the porch as he made his way through the already opened door of his home. There were several people Tammy didn’t know standing around Lonnie. A woman who was the spitting image of Lonnie, only twenty years her senior, was crying softly. When Lonnie’s mother raised her tear-stained face to Tammy everything inside her died. She didn’t need to hear the words to see the accusation in those red-rimmed eyes.
For once Tammy wished she could just disappear, and she did—vanish—right before everyone’s eyes. The next thing Tammy knew she was standing knee-deep in snow at the back of Roark’s cabin. She heard him scream her name as the change swept over her. She shook off her clothing and ran.
In her wolf form, Tammy bounded over fallen trees and other obstacles, the desire to turn back around and go to Roark strong. The need to set him free was even stronger. No one would believe that she hadn’t attacked Stephen and killed Lonnie. Roark was the leader of the lycanthrope pack. Like the vampires, the wolves would never accept her. They saw her as the ultimate Black Widow. Death rode beside he
r.
The wind kicked up and bit cruelly at her ears as she headed south, down the mountain. Reality was slow in coming as she covered one mile and then another. Hunger and now desire wreak havoc inside her.
Seeking Marcellus would only start another set of problems. If the pack didn’t catch her in Phoenix, Marcellus’s people would see to her demise.
Tammy had nowhere to run—nowhere to hide.
The knowledge felt like an anchor around her neck. Her footsteps leaden, she trudged through the deep snow. Her eyes stung. Ice crusted her fur. The snow was falling faster, thicker. The only saving grace was that her footprints and scent would be carried away. There would be no chance of either Roark or Marcellus finding her—if she lived the night. Soon it would be morning. The vampire within would perish, ending the monster she had become.
Mackenzie McKade Page 18
