“Funenko, I want to have the woman. Before you kill her, let me have her, just once.”
“Shut up, Golubev. Stop whining. If she lives when I’m finished with her, you can have a turn.”
Grigori clearly heard Funenko and Golubev. He felt his rage rush forward. Claws ripped through his fingertips. The urge to tear and shred was upon him. His vision started to blur. Grigori used all his strength of character to push his wolf down. Melisande would need him to carry her out of here. He couldn’t do that in his wolf form.
Grigori finally reached the guard and did a quick search of the man’s pockets. He found a ring of keys that hopefully included the lock to the door. He looked at the three choices and at the lock, then down to where Funenko and the other man talked. He needed to do this as silently as possible.
Grigori carefully inserted the first key, but the tumblers wouldn’t budge. He tried the next key. All the time he was worrying that Funenko would hear a noise and come to investigate. Grigori turned the key, and this time the lock moved. Thanking his luck, Grigori slipped into the room, happy to note the door didn’t squeak. He closed it behind him, leaving only a small crack.
This room was completely dark. Grigori hated to think of Melisande opening her eyes to pitch darkness. He rushed over to the cot on the far wall. Melisande’s hair hung off the edge of the thin mattress. Her body looked like a lifeless doll. He felt for her pulse. It was there, but it felt slow and weak. Her chest barely moved with each breath she took. One of her wrists was handcuffed to the metal framework of the cot.
Grigori looked at the key ring, but none of the keys were for a pair of handcuffs. He could try to break them open, but feared injuring Melisande in the process. He must confront Funenko to get the key. Between the darts and guns, he was in trouble. Pulling his cell phone from his pocket, he dialed 999 and placed the phone next to Melisande’s free hand. Whatever happened, Melisande would be saved. He leaned down and kissed her still lips.
“Together forever, lyubov moya. In this world or the next.”
Grigori then sent his thoughts through space and time.
Brencis, I’ve called the police. Don’t let them catch you in wolf form.
Are you all right? Is it over? came Brencis’ mental questions.
No, it’s just getting interesting.
Grigori! Let us help you. We are almost there.
“How touching . . . I see you decided to accept my invitation for this evening. I am surprised you found me so quickly. What did you do to poor Bogdanov?” came Funenko’s voice from the door.
Grigori’s blood chilled. He turned to see Funenko holding a gun on him. His man stood behind him in the doorway. Funenko was an insane killer. How was he going to save Melisande before Funenko killed them? Time was of the essence. He would need to stall. One way or another, help would be arriving soon. Grigori glanced down and gladly noted Melisande’s arm hid the cell phone. He positioned himself to protect her as much as he could from taking a bullet.
“He’s asleep. He’ll wake up when the time is right,” Grigori answered, standing in front of Melisande.
“That time being after your escape, I assume.” Funenko said.
Grigori shrugged his shoulders. He smelled Funenko’s excitement with the underlying tone of arousal. This was fun for Funenko. He was enjoying himself.
“Golubev, find Zaytsev and get the car. We must once again find a new place to have our fun. You have been a constant thorn in my side, Solovyov. The bosses in Moscow are crying for your death. Though they like the thought of my revenge, they are getting impatient. And I must say, so am I. Here, undo the handcuff on your woman. We will take her with us as soon as the car gets here.”
Grigori watched the light gleam off the small key Funenko threw to him. With the only light in the room coming from the door, the room was still quite dark. There was a chance Grigori could grab the gun he put in his pocket without Funenko noticing. Now, since Golubev was going for the car, Grigori had only one person to worry about. And Funenko had given him the only thing keeping him stuck here, Melisande’s freedom.
Grigori caught the key and leaned over to unlock the cuff. Once finished, he positioned himself so Funenko wouldn’t see him slip his hand into his pocket. A low growl came from the hallway. Funenko glanced back, and Grigori took his chance. He pulled out the gun and shot. Crimson blood started flowing out of the hole in Funenko’s chest. Funenko looked down in bewilderment, then slowly fell to the ground.
Grigori wiped his prints off the gun and left it lying next to Funenko’s body. A young wolf slipped in the door. Grigori looked up in surprise. He had thought the growl was from Brencis.
“Well done, Seth. Your timing was perfect. But if you listen, you can hear the sirens coming closer. You need to get out of here and hide yourself.”
The young wolf wagged his tail and turned, then ran out the door. Grigori shook his head. That child was going to be a handful. He scooped up his cell phone and turned if off before slipping his arms around Melisande’s slight form. Holding her close to his chest, he stepped over Funenko’s body and escaped into the night.
§
Grigori sat next to the bed in the master bedroom of the townhome, holding Melisande’s hand. The medics called to the scene at the warehouse had checked her vitals and suggested she stay overnight in the hospital. But Grigori couldn’t let her out of his sight. He needed to take her home.
Inspector Lewis had shouted at Grigori for over an hour. But when he finally wound down, he thanked Grigori and apologized for Kincaid’s duplicity. Evidence was found indicating Officer Kincaid accepted money from Funenko to spy on Grigori and Melisande. Kincaid also was the one who shot Rosie and Melisande with darts before turning Melisande over to Funenko. Grigori thought that if the man had lived, he would have thanked him. Funenko wouldn’t have thought twice about killing Rosie and the two guard dogs. Because of Kincaid’s conscience, Rosie, Brencis and Valerii were unhurt.
Now if Melisande would wake up, his life would return to normal. Until she did, however, his gut still churned with fear.
“She’ll be okay. Let her sleep it off,” Brencis said, bringing Grigori a cup of tea.
“I can’t release the fear of almost losing her tonight. I’ve got to see her open her eyes and look at me.”
“You love her that deeply?”
“More, she is my life. I wouldn’t want to live without her,” Grigori explained.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so difficult. I’ll try to be more supportive,” Brencis said. “Get in bed. Even if you can’t sleep, you can rest. It’s very late. The children will be up early, and Rosie is back in the hospital for the night. We’ll have our hands full in the morning.”
“I guess you’re right. Carly will howl for breakfast when she wakes up. She is such a princess,” Grigori said, chuckling.
“Yeah, but she’s a cutie. I hope we can find her parents.”
“We will. And then I want to know what’s going on here in England. Why are lycan children being orphaned and forgotten?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Melisande opened her eyes to see Grigori asleep in the chair next to the bed, his hand clutching hers. He still wore the clothes from last night, now wrinkled and disheveled. A shadow of whiskers darkened his cheeks and jaw. The sun shone in the window and across the bed she lay on. Her head was killing her, and she reached up to rub her temples. What happened? How did she get here? She remembered going out into the garden and Rosie coming out to join her.
“Melika,” came Carly’s screech from the hallway.
Grigori jumped as Carly opened the bedroom door and ran into the room. He looked tired and worried. He squeezed Melisande’s hand, and she tried to give him a weak smile, but groaned instead. Carly headed right to the bed and tried to climb up to get to Melisande.
“Joe says I have to eat eggs, and I want pancakes. But Rosie is sick, and no one knows how to make them. Can you make them?” Carly said, still trying to get onto the
bed.
Grigori took pity on her and lifted her up to lie next to Meli on the bed.
“Joe said not to wake you, that you were sick too, but I felt you wake up, so I came up to ask you. Are you sick?” she said, patting Meli’s cheek and then snuggling down next to her.
Melisande wanted to reassure the little girl, but her head felt ready to explode, and she wasn’t sure she could get up. “Maybe a little, Carly, honey. How about you eat eggs right now, and I’ll make us a special pancake dinner?”
“Okay,” Carly said. She lay beside Melisande as if she felt the pain shooting through her head.
Melisande was afraid to move. The sun shining in the window hurt her eyes. She just wanted to lie still.
“Come, Carly. Go back to the kitchen and eat. Your eggs will get cold,” Grigori suggested, taking the child off the bed and turning her toward the door.
“Melika needs medicine if she’s sick,” Carly said seriously while taking Grigori’s hand. “My mommy always gave me medicine, the grape kind.
“Don’t worry, Malyshka. I will give Melika her medicine,” Grigori said, walking the child to the door and closing it quietly behind her.
Melisande closed her eyes, hoping she could sleep for a while. She heard Grigori moving around the room. Every noise seemed to be large and extreme in her brain. She heard bumping noises from upstairs and thought it must be Rosie’s children playing in their room. Then soft murmurs in the hallway let her know Brencis had found Carly and was taking her downstairs.
Melisande’s head hurt so badly tears started coming from her eyes. A hand tenderly wiped a tear from her face. She cracked her eyes open to see Grigori holding a glass of water and some pills.
“The doctor left these for you,” Grigori said as he gently lifted her up and helped her drink the medicine down. “He said you might wake up with a headache. It’s a result of the drug in your system.”
“Drug?” Melisande asked, trying hard to remember. What happened that she was drugged?
“It was Funenko, Melika. He kidnapped you last night. But he is now dead, and you are safe. Rest now, and I will explain later,” Grigori said, placing the glass on the nightstand and moving to close the drapes over the window.
Melisande wanted to ask for more information. She really did, but her head hurt so much. She sighed with relief when the room went dark. Grigori moved back to the bed and leaned down to kiss her gently on the forehead.
“Sleep, Lyubov moya. You will feel better when you wake,” he murmured to her.
Melisande let herself go into the blessed peace of sleep.
Grigori looked down on his mate and felt his heart lighten. She was going to be okay. The doctor warned him last night she would wake with a headache. Thankfully, the medicine seemed to be working, and Melisande slept again. The pain in her mind faded, and he breathed through it. Melisande’s pain radiated off her like heat radiating from the sun. He could barely think as he shared it with her. He rubbed his head in remembered agony.
He wanted more than anything to climb into the bed and hold his mate close. She didn’t know about the kidnapping, but the thought of letting her out of his sight caused his wolf to surge to the surface. If there were a safe place to run, he would have changed and given his wolf some time to go out and play. But now that it was light, even the yard wasn’t a safe place to be a wolf.
Grigori heard the children moving through the house. Valerii and Brencis must have their hands full. He should go down to help, but his steps faltered, and he felt torn between being with his mate and helping with his pack.
Intellectually, he knew Melisande would be fine and just needed some time to feel better. But the fear of losing her still lay close to the surface, and he felt it churning in his stomach. He sighed with indecision when a loud crash came from below, and Carly’s wail followed. Grigori ran from the room and down the stairs toward the child’s cry.
What met his eyes as he entered the kitchen looked like a scene from a television comedy series. Valerii stood near the stove, a red apron around his waist and raw egg dripping down his front. He appeared slightly dazed as a drop fell from his blond braids and landed on his nose. Little Joe held and rocked a crying Carly, while Brencis was on his hands and knees on the floor, gingerly picking up pieces of broken crockery.
“I see there has been an accident,” Grigori commented, trying not to laugh. “Is anyone hurt?”
Both Valerii and Brencis looked at him and scowled.
“Everyone is fine,” Brencis answered. “But if you would like to help, we wouldn’t say no.”
Grigori smiled as love for his pack flooded his senses. He quickly moved to the closet to retrieve a mop.
“That’s enough now, Carly. It was an accident. No one is blaming you.” Grigori reassured the still-crying child as he pulled a bucket out of the closet. “Valerii, you might want to go up and shower. It might be quicker than trying to wipe the egg off.”
“I see your point,” Valerii said, looking down at himself and then starting to chuckle.
Soon everyone laughed. The sound drew the other children to the room, and Grigori happily saw them pitch in to finish cleaning up the mess. Then, as the children set the table, Grigori pulled more eggs and bacon from the refrigerator and started cooking.
As he prepared food for his pack, he realized how content he felt. He loved having his own little pack to care for. His life had become very solitary in Siberia, but now his family surrounded him. Life was good.
A short time later, as Grigori finished wiping the last plate after sending the children into the backyard to play, a timid knock sounded at the front door.
Grigori went down the hall and opened the front entrance. A small woman who appeared to be very young stood wringing her hands. One whiff of her scent assured him this was a lycan and possibly Carly’s mother. Her scent was almost overwhelmed with the acerbic smell of fear and panic. The woman’s nostrils flared, her eyes widened, and her fear increased until she stood trembling. Grigori knew she recognized him as a lycanthrope.
“I won’t hurt you. You are completely safe here,” Grigori quickly assured her. “Please come in. I’m glad you found us.”
The woman visibly pulled herself together as she stepped into the front hall. “It was the ad in the paper. I took a chance.”
“You are Carly’s mother?”
“Yes, is she here? Is she all right?” the woman asked, becoming frantic again.
“She’s outside playing. Before we call her in, I’d like to speak with you,” Grigori said as the woman bit her lower lip and wrung her hands. “Where is your mate?”
“Please, you must take Carly and run. The Alpha is mad. He imprisoned my mate. He will kill him, and take Carly for his mate. She’s just a baby.”
The woman shook so hard, Grigori feared she would injure herself. He reached for her mind. You will calm yourself. You are safe here, he sent into her thoughts as he gently took her arm and led her into the parlor. Once she was seated, he sat down across from her.
Grigori’s mind reeled. Another lycan pack still survived? But it sounded like they were in trouble. He needed more information. Should he take the memories from the woman? He hated to invade her privacy, but she was so distraught he wasn’t sure she could answer his questions.
He looked closely at her, noticing her worn clothing and too-thin frame. Carly had been very thin as well, but he assumed it was from the kidnappers not feeding her enough. Keeping a light touch on her mind to calm this woman, he decided that whatever was going on, he needed to help her and her family.
“Are you hungry? May I offer you something?” he asked the woman.
“I’m not sure I can eat right now.”
“I need to ask you some questions. But why don’t you explain to me what you meant earlier. You said the Alpha is insane?”
The woman nodded her head, and the story flowed out of her. The Alpha took over the pack when his father died. He was older than most newAlphas, and some w
ondered why his father had not turned the pack over to him sooner. They noticed female children were becoming non-existent, and at that time all the females were mated.
The Alpha grew angry that there was no one to mate with, and he demanded that the females in the pack have children. Many of them complied, but only boy children were born. The Alpha got angrier and angrier with the pack members until he actually killed several women when they presented the pack with boy children.
Many of the pack members decided to leave England and find another place to live. But there were a few who stayed for one reason or another. Now there were only ten lycans left in the pack. One older couple tried to help the younger members and soften the Alpha’s rule. Two Betas enjoyed living on the Alpha’s estate and bullying the rest of the pack members. There were three single males who tried to stay out of the Alpha’s way and Carly’s parents. Carly’s father was the Alpha’s younger brother.
Carly’s mother explained how the Alpha withdrew pack support to punish pack members. The male children whose parents were killed were left on the doorsteps of orphanages. According to rumors, some were sold to a zoo or circus while in their wolf form and would never be able to turn back into their human form. She put her face in her hands.
“We thought we were safe. We thought that because my mate was his heir, the Alpha wouldn’t hurt us. But he imprisoned my husband at the estate and told me to retrieve Carly and bring her to him. He knows we don’t want that. We want Carly to have a normal life and find her heartmate as we did. But he is determined to mate her, whether she belongs with him or not. He plans to raise her and touch her. Oh God, he’s going to rape my baby. Please save her. Take her far away. You can’t help us, but you can save Carly.”
“You said the Alpha has two Betas. If forced, would they fight for him?”
“I don’t think so. They aren’t very smart. They like to use their muscle to hurt others. But they are loyal only to get themselves easy lives.”
Grigori thought she might be wrong. If these men realized Grigori wouldn’t continue their support, they might be forced to fight for their Alpha. If only he had found them sooner. How many other lycans were out there in the world, alone without a pack? Lycans were pack animals. They needed to live in a group. But then he remembered how happy he had been at breakfast. It was possible to live in small family packs and be happy.
AMAZON KINDLE VERSION A Siberian Werewolf In London EDITED 3 9 2012 Page 14
