First Bite (The Dark Wolf Series)

by Dani Harper

There didn’t seem to be anyone occupying the cells on this end. Baker was casting his nose back and forth like a bloodhound, occasionally standing on his hind legs and peering into cell windows. They detected nothing until they rounded a corner and entered an entirely different wing. Baker was just ahead of her when he suddenly broke into a gallop.

  Riley! Hey man, are you okay?

  Stop broadcasting! Dammit, I’m going to make you a tinfoil hat and glue it to your—

  Neva stopped abruptly, drawing air along her palate, trying to sift a sudden mix of scents. Travis! She could smell Travis, that unmistakable all-male blend of earthen elements—mountain trails and high lakes, summer days and sex-filled nights. He was here!

  She knew it was better to stay in character, at least until she got a better look at the situation. Couldn’t she just walk very briskly? But there was no holding back her inner wolf. It was determined to get to Travis no matter what she had to say about it. Neva managed to hold back from shifting to her animal form by her fingernails, but she couldn’t stop herself from racing down the bleak, white corridor at top speed. Her heart pounded in her ears; her boots pounded on the tile until she couldn’t hear anything else.

  Which was probably why Neva collided with a small Latino woman wearing a white lab coat.

  The impact of the collision sent the women careening against opposite walls of the corridor, even cracking a couple of the stark-white tiles before they both landed in heaps on the cold floor. Neva recovered first, getting to her knees and shaking her head to clear it. It felt like she’d hit a granite pillar, not another human being. Correction, she’d hit another werewolf. No wonder she’d gotten her bell rung. She held onto the wall as she got to her feet, and had to take a couple of breaths before she could spare a glance at whom she had run into.

  Recognition made her heart sink to the very soles of her expensive boots. Meredith’s doctor, Zarita, lay unmoving, and Neva could see that her lip was split and bleeding badly. A red plastic tote had burst open, and she scooped up some of the gauze pads, tearing open packages until she had a thick bundle to press against the injury. “Are you okay?” she asked, leaning over and gently shaking the woman’s shoulder. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  Zarita’s dark eyes flew open and then widened considerably. The worst of all possible words spilled from her bleeding lips. “You are not Ms. Meredith!”

  Crap. Neva had forgotten to stay in character—obviously she should have kicked the woman when she was down or something. Looking to save the situation, she adopted Meredith’s trademark smile. “Of course I am, Zarita, darling. You poor thing, you’ve hit your head. Now you know I simply can’t do without you, so please tell me you’re all right.”

  Slowly, Zarita took over holding the gauze pad to her lip, staring at Neva’s face the entire time. Gradually she sat up and leaned against the wall, but suspicion still flickered in her eyes. “Are you all right, Ms. Meredith? I checked on you not long ago and you were sound asleep. You asked not to be disturbed until nightfall.”

  Play along, play along. “I remember dreaming that I was looking for something.” Neva put a hand to her head. “But I just found myself walking and walking along all these hallways, and I didn’t know where I was going. I don’t even know what I was looking for. It was very strange.”

  “It is indeed very strange, miss. You never come to this floor. Ever.”

  Great time to find that out. Well, it might be out of character to show concern for anyone else, but it was totally like Meredith to be worried to the point of hypochondria about herself. Neva turned it on full. “Oh, Zarita, dear, I’m not sleepwalking, am I? I’m so glad I met you before anyone else saw me like this. Please take me back to my suite now.”

  To her surprise, Zarita shook her head. “You are very good. But you are not Ms. Meredith.”

  Neva promptly folded her arms and mimicked one of Travis’s custom frowns. “You bet I’m good. I’m her bodyguard, lady. She pays me to act as her double.”

  “I have seen that movie. Twice. You are the sister.”

  Neva was getting damn tired of this “the sister” crap, but now was not the time to complain about it. Baker! She focused her thoughts for him only, not wanting to give away his presence to Zarita.

  I’m trying to get into Riley’s cell. He’s in bad shape, but he’s alive.

  Zarita looked startled. Baker had once again completely failed at shielding his mindspeak. That wasn’t surprising, but the woman’s next question was. “You are trying to help Riley?” More surprising was the sudden hope that lit the doctor’s face.

  “Yeah, we are. And Travis, too. Why?”

  “I can help you. Riley will die if he doesn’t get out of here soon, and—and I do not want that to happen.” Zarita set her lips—gingerly—into a small, thin line, as if to prevent any more details from spilling out.

  “And Travis?”

  “I do not know his name. There was a big blond man in a cell near Riley who calls himself Trouble. Blue eyes, frown here.” Zarita pointed to a spot between her brows.

  Neva almost laughed until she reran the words through her brain. “Wait, was here? But I can smell him…” Her senses told her the truth then: the scent was a leftover, and it had already faded slightly in the small amount of time she’d been here. “Where is he now?”

  “I was too late. He was taken upstairs before I came back here.” Zarita hung her head. “I was going to help him escape if he would take Riley with him.”

  Upstairs was not good. Downstairs was undoubtedly a death sentence, but upstairs was her twin and that could be worse. “Where upstairs?” She knelt and gripped the small woman by the shoulders. “Please tell me where!”

  “Your Travis has been placed in a guest room on the third floor. Meredith has been sleeping for many hours in her penthouse, and she will be ravenous when she wakes. She finds his blood appealing.”

  Horror gripped Neva by the throat and squeezed hard. She stepped back until she could feel the cold wall behind her. “Is—is she a vampire?” If there was such a thing, she was certain that her crazed sister would aspire to become one.

  “Not in the physical sense of the word. But blood has many, many uses in dark magic. Your man’s blood is particularly rare and powerful, and she will make use of it as long as she can, for anything she can think of. Perhaps it is a small comfort, but I don’t think she will kill him very soon. I just do not know when—or if—he will be returned to his cell.”

  “You’re sure giving me a lot of information. Why?” Neva narrowed her eyes at the woman. “You’re her personal physician, and I’ll bet she pays you plenty. Why should I trust anything you say?”

  Zarita stood with a curious dignity. “Meredith does not pay me in money. She knows where my children are, and she allows them to live. To keep them safe, I would have served her my entire life.”

  Which was worse, Neva wondered—being kidnapped yourself, or having your family held hostage? If the doctor’s story was true, she wouldn’t want to be in her shoes. “But?”

  “But lately…her madness has been growing in leaps and bounds. She has always been selfish and cruel, but careful and calculating. Something has changed. She kills on impulse, even when she does not want to, even when it ruins her own plans. She loses control and destroys the very things she likes, and weeps over them afterward. Most of all, she does great damage to her own pack, the pack she is trying to build. Many were slaughtered simply because Meredith was angry that you had escaped.”

  Neva felt the color leave her face. People died because of me.

  “See? You feel pain because of this. You are nothing like your twin. Nothing. I was afraid at first when I saw your golden hair, the way you are dressed, that you were trying to be like her. I was afraid that I could not trust you.”

  Jesus. “Look, when I left this place…well, I tried to make sure that Meredith couldn’t use me to hurt anyone. Travis saved me. And I need to go find him now. Please help Baker and Riley ge
t out of here, and for heaven’s sake, get yourself out, too. Go to your children and hide them.”

  “They are grown, and they will not hide. They do not believe in werewolves and magic. But I will help Riley and your friend.”

  Zarita could be lying and her offer might be nothing but a trap, but Neva’s instincts and those of her wolf detected nothing amiss. She was just going to have to take a chance and trust her. Baker, I found you some help! I’m going after Travis.

  Impulsively, she hugged the small woman, then ran back the way she had come, all the way to the private elevator. She didn’t care how out of character it looked or sounded. On this floor, at least, it no longer mattered. If Travis was on the third floor, then that was where she had to go, and fast.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  The soft stroke of a hand across his forehead roused Travis at last. Had the doctor come back? “Don’t take any more out,” he said muzzily. “It makes me too tired.” He must have been out for a long time…there was a glow on the horizon, but the rest of the sky was dark and the room with it. The feminine shadow by the side of his bed, however, was familiar. He knew that scent, that shape, that—

  “Neva?” he whispered, then came fully awake. “Neva, what the hell are you doing here? I told you not to come here. I told you to stay away!”

  “I couldn’t leave you here,” she said, leaning close. “Besides, the wolf wouldn’t let me.”

  His night vision made use of the ambient light to study her, mentally checking off her features. Her soft dark hair was in its usual careless ponytail, the scattering of freckles across her nose and cheekbones in all the right places. Most of all, her golden-brown eyes were warm and kind. Did he dare believe it was really her?

  Before he could decide, she knelt and began untying the cords. “Are you okay? Can you walk?” she asked.

  “For Christ’s sake, Meredith will kill you!” he protested. Shit, shit, shit! He cursed his wolf, cursed it for taking over and claiming Neva without the approval of either one of them. The terrible consequence was plain—Neva couldn’t help herself from coming here, might even think it was her own idea at first. Her wolf would drive her here to be with its mate. In his head, he shouted at his lupine self: You put her in danger! And cursed it again when there was still no frickin’ response.

  “I doubt it. She doesn’t want me dead,” said Neva. “Besides, Meredith’s not even here. She flew off to go shopping for a couple days. Now get up, we have to hurry. The guards are drunk off their asses, but somebody might still be awake.”

  He sat up and rubbed his wrists. Every inch of skin the cord had touched was now throbbing with pain, as if it had been burned with acid. He grabbed a silken red loop of the stuff and stared at it, as trying to discern its secrets. “I should have been able to break this.”

  She simply took it from him and began gathering it into a neat coil, gradually pulling it from under the bed where it had been crisscrossed in order to reach all four bedposts. “Fenrir’s Cord,” she said simply, winding the end around the bundle and hanging the whole thing on her arm like an oversize bracelet. “In Norse mythology, Fenrir was a giant wolf whose destiny was to kill Odin. The gods—”

  “The gods bound him with a silken cord,” finished Travis. “It was enchanted so he couldn’t break it.”

  “Everyone thinks that’s a myth. But I’m finding out that nothing is just a story, not where Meredith is concerned. Either she found the real cord or she made one like it. So I’m taking this with us in case we need it.” Neva tugged at his sleeve and tried to pull him toward the door. “Get a move on, will you? We have to get going.”

  He was all for leaving, but he wasn’t going to be fooled again. He seized Neva’s hand and yanked her hard against him. She felt like Neva. Smelled like her. Thumped him with her fists and glared at him just like Neva.

  “Hey, we don’t have time for this crap right now!”

  She sure sounded like Neva, but Meredith would know how her sister smelled, how she acted, how she talked. In fact, Meredith would have an entire lifetime of knowing almost everything about her twin. There was one thing she wasn’t likely to be aware of, however. He cupped her head with his big hands and tipped it up so he could press his mouth to hers. He took his time with the kiss, deepening it, needing to be certain beyond all doubt.

  And there it was—or rather, there it wasn’t.

  She doesn’t taste like Neva! That unique hint of apple wine and warm spice was completely missing. And oh, by the way, his body’s natural reaction to Neva was missing, too. He should be trying to hold himself in check, yet his physical self couldn’t be less interested if he’d been kissing a cold bronze statue in the park. The thing in his arms was neither woman nor statue—it was a monster, and its name was Meredith.

  His first instinct was to throw her away from him like a rattlesnake and spit as if he’d been poisoned. Instead he drew out the kiss as if she was made of honey, slid his arms around her and pressed those round breasts tight against his chest, even grabbed her ass. Whatever it took to convince the crazy bitch that her disguise had completely fooled him, because it was his one and only chance to get the hell out of here.

  Christ, he hoped he didn’t throw up…

  Neva made use of the mirrored walls of the elevator, straightening her clothes and adjusting her hair, until the car stopped at the third floor. She strode out confidently, startling a young housekeeper into dropping a small stack of towels. “You,” she said, pointing at the girl, who was trying to refold them with shaking hands. “I want to inspect the guest rooms on this floor. I’m thinking of redecorating. Open them up for me.”

  The girl half walked, half ran ahead of her. Neva knew from experience that all nine rooms were kept locked—including the one at the far end in which she’d spent her captivity. She had no idea which one held Travis, though. But she was certain it would arouse suspicion if Meredith was to wander the hallways, trying doorknob after doorknob.

  The girl drew her keys from her apron pocket, dropping them twice before opening the room closest to them and reaching in to switch on the lights.

  Biting her tongue to keep from saying thank you, Neva entered the room as regally as if she was a queen inspecting her troops. Recessed lighting revealed the room to be pale grayish white, with all the hues of the ocean gathered in the carpets and the bedding—but this was no cottage. The colorful paintings of seashells were O’Keeffe, and undoubtedly authentic. “I think I’ll move those,” she pretended to muse, tapping her red lips with the tip of her finger. Crap. I haven’t got time to go through eight more rooms. How can I cut to the chase?

  She had no idea if more than one room was in use at present, but she took a chance. “Take me to the bedroom that’s occupied. I think I might switch these paintings with something in there.”

  The girl led the way without hesitation. Neva was relieved to see that they were passing several rooms along the broad hallway—now she was getting somewhere! Best of all, she passed a large reception room that opened out to a terrace. Was it the one that Sonje and Nathan had used?

  At the second-to-last door, the girl was about to put the key in the lock when the knob began to turn in her hand. “Oh, it’s not locked,” she said in surprise.

  “I’ll take it from here,” Neva said quickly. “I need some time to study the decor, and I require absolute silence in which to concentrate. Take your towels and leave this floor.”

  “Right away, Ms. de la Ronde.” The relief in the housekeeper’s voice was undeniable, and she wasted no time leaving.

  As the light footsteps died away, Neva took a breath and opened the elegant door. Reaching for the light switch proved unnecessary. The light from the hallway behind her spilled into the room and illuminated Travis Williamson—

  And the brunette in his arms he was currently lip-locked with.

  Travis’s eyes were closed, not in bliss, but in an effort to distance himself from the creature he was kissing. The sudden change in light made h
im crack open a lid, however—and then both eyes shot wide. Meredith! Her long blonde hair tumbled to her waist, and her red, red lips were open in a perfect O as she stared at him from the open door. He froze, unable to make sense of the rabbit hole he’d just fallen down.

  “Travis, what the hell are you doing?” she demanded, and it was Neva’s voice.

  In his arms, the creature/woman/monster/whatever sprang behind him and tugged hard at his arm. “She’s found us! Run!” She had Neva’s voice, too—but not her taste.

  For Christ’s sake, did he have to go around kissing everyone to figure out who was who?

  Travis cursed the absence of his alter ego, knowing that his wolf would recognize the real Neva no matter what, because it knew her wolf. And maybe neither one of these women was Neva. But there was something about the blonde at the door, some elusive quality that called to him in spite of the fact that she looked like their worst enemy. Suddenly his shocked brain kicked into gear. Travis! She called me Travis! He hadn’t revealed his name to anyone in this house, especially Meredith. Immediately he leaped for the door—

  And was yanked almost off his feet by something around his neck. He clawed at it, his fingertips identifying the silken thread as Fenrir’s Cord. High-pitched laughter behind him chilled him to the bone, and he glanced back to see exactly what he had seen in the forest bower—Neva’s face bearing Meredith’s mocking expression.

  “Oh, my goodness!” She giggled, and it reminded him of her delight over the demons she’d conjured. “I simply can’t keep up the charade any longer. You should see your faces! Too, too funny.” She was holding the other end of the scarlet cord in her hands, but only loosely—it was moving on its own like a live thing. As Travis choked, the rest of the cord undulated around him like a python, squeezing until he was brought crashing to the floor.

  “No!” shouted the real Neva. She ran toward him, but she was knocked back by some invisible force just as his vision started to gray at the edges.