Virgin Wolf II

by Lynde Lakes

  Based upon the fierce way she was thrashing about on the rope, he doubted he could hold her long. Either the rope would snap or she’d wriggle loose. He spoke soothingly like Indian Joe had taught him to do when dealing with animals. When he reached Victoria, he inhaled her lupine pheromones to establish a psychic link with the wolf part of her. “It’s all right ,” he said. “I’m here to take you home.”

  She tilted her head and looked at him with turbulent brown eyes. She opened her mouth, curled her lips and growled. Her incisors looked deadly. Joe had taught him that the wolf was an intelligent, shy animal that avoided interaction with humans. He saw nothing shy in her aggressive behavior. Werewolves apparently were a more ferocious species than regular lupines. He wondered if the other two wolves were close by, waiting to pounce on him.

  * * * *

  Victoria had no fear of Rick, but she wasn’t ready to be dragged home on a leash like a naughty pup. She sucked in his seductive male scent mingled with something woodsy and wild along with the tangy scents of scrub brush and moon poppies. She tugged on the line, eager to bathe in the heat of the full moon. Its power could not be denied and no biker with a lasso could deprive her of this glorious freedom. She howled and leapt from the rock, and ran through the bushes, enjoying the damp earth beneath her paws, dragging him along. Leave me free to embrace the night and drink in the feral sensations.

  He clung to the rope, hand over hand, getting closer and slowing her. She inhaled his male scent again and remembered clinging to his bare torso, feeling his heat, his power. Fiery lust rose in her so quickly that it stole her breath away. Suddenly, she no longer wanted to escape her persuer—she wanted him. Her wolf soul craved sex, and right or wrong in her parents’ eyes, she wanted him now. Undoubtedly, Dad had proclaimed her off limits to her protector. That could heighten the excitement. Imagine, after she turned on the heat, the fun of testing this mere man’s willpower. Her charms had worked on the weak-livered hunter, but would they work on a man of integrity? Was she capable of being a great temptress, one that even a man like Rick couldn’t resist?

  She grabbed a handful of moon poppies, jammed them in her mouth and devoured them. Then she started her lupine reversing technique of mind over matter. She’d have a better chance of seducing Rick if she were more womanly and less lupine. She concentrated, counted backwards, and processed each step in reverse as she had with the hunter. When she felt no change, she concentrated harder.

  Time was running out. She leapt up on a table-boulder and lay on her back, exposing her breasts, stomach and pubic area to the glow of the moon, undulating, writhing and looking vulnerable, willing. He approached slowly. She heard his breathing accelerate. With satisfaction, she inhaled his pheromones of lustful excitement.

  “I know what you’re doing, Victoria, and it won’t work.” His voice was low, and the guttural rumble told her he could barely contain his lustful rage. When he reached for her elbow, she slid off the boulder and into his arms. She locked her limbs around his shoulders and began nibbling on his neck and kissing him while rhythmically rubbing her nude body back and forth against his torso and the hot swell of passion in his jeans. “Stop that,” he growled, and pushed her away while wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand where she’d nicked him with her incisors.

  She backed away four steps, dropped on all fours, and slinked toward him as she had done with the gullible hunter. Rick leapt forward onto her, taking her by surprise. Hey, now he was getting to it. The weight and heat of him as he rolled with her brought new waves of desire. She reveled in the coolness of the hilly grasses beneath her flaming skin and his muscles flexing against her bare belly. And his heat was—oh God, so hot, so overpowering.

  He struggled, getting her in position, and she was ready to lose her virginity to this handsome biker. When he twisted her arm behind her back and pulled her to her feet, she felt like he’d thrown ice water on her sizzling skin.

  “That’s enough, Victoria. We’re going home. And get this straight—as long I work for your Dad, this isn’t going to happen.”

  Hmmm, she thought, that means I’ll just have to get you fired.

  He maneuvered through the rough terrain slowly, forcing her to run behind the bike like an animal. Suddenly, she caught the scent of sweaty men—then her feral eyes detected the shapes of humans. It was the hunters! She couldn’t let Rick ride right into a trap and leave their freedom to chance. She ran and leapt onto the back of the bike, wrapped her limbs around his middle, and growled at him to hit the gas. Startled, he swerved and almost hit a barren grape vine, and then, as though he heard the approaching danger, he took off like white lightning toward the mansion.

  * * * *

  Hugh let Valerie run free through the rough, hilly terrain for a while to get the wildness and call of the moon out of her system. It was a win-win situation because he was getting the wildness out of his system as well. He had to use extra care and run deep into the hills because Valerie’s snowy white coloring made her an easy target. Nothing would happen to his charge on his watch. He gave a low moan of satisfaction. The mountain’s lower foothills were dotted with a camouflage of low concealing brush and a scattering of rocky caves—a perfect refuge for romping werewolves. When he decided it was time to go back, she balked, so he used his bigger, stronger and more dominant nature and little bites to the muzzle to persuade her.

  Ahead, Hugh caught the oily smell of the hunters and took a distant path. When he and his charge finally entered the north boundary of the Lamont Mansion, he gave a sigh of relief.

  It was short lived. When he caught the scent of perfume, sex, and death, every hair on his body stood on end. He recognized Kat’s fragrance and prayed he was wrong. As they got closer, he saw her sprawled on a table boulder, used and discarded, her throat torn out.

  Hugh fought to hold back a mournful howl. He couldn’t chance the hunters hearing and spotting them. His sacred job was to keep Valerie safe. Valerie whined softly. With tear-filled eyes, he sent her a fierce look that demanded silence. He wished he could erase this ghastly image from her young mind.

  Finding the mutilated body on the Lamont property meant one thing—someone was setting his brother up for trouble. If he wasn’t accused of murder outright, he’d be blamed for keeping wolves on his property and for not protecting the community. Or maybe someone knows about me or the girls and the blame would fall on us. The result would still be revenge on Damon.

  Maybe he should just bury the body, wolf-style, and add another concealed tragedy to the growing chain of Lamont secrets.

  Suddenly, a bullet zinged over their heads. No more time for indecision. His responsibility was to keep Valerie safe. He herded her toward the mansion through the heaviest underbrush with a speed accelerated by terror-driven fear of failure to perform his God-given duty.

  Would Angela forgive him for leaving her friend to the cruel elements? Would he ever forgive himself?

  * * * *

  Safely inside the mansion, Rick waited with Victoria for Damon Lamont to join them. He paced the floor, his head full of dangerous memories of her undulating and writhing on that boulder. Oh, dear lord, then when he rolled in the grass with her, for a moment, her strong etched face loomed over him, her lupine jaw set in determination. Sensual lips revealed terrifying protruding fangs. With her tongue, she touched those daggerlike incisors and growled low in her throat. It was insane but he’d felt an exciting lust that came extremely close to making him blow his wad.

  Now, her teeth were ivory white and perfectly even. He had to admit that, even with fangs, she’d looked sexy as hell. He couldn’t stop looking at her. Her high cheekbones were flushed a delightful rosy pink, and the gold flecks in her expressive almond-shaped eyes looked more enticing than ever. The savage intensity that had glistened in them earlier was gone. But he’d never forget the musky feral scent or his fight to overcome the attraction and demand for passion. With all his determination, he had fought the feral urge. Even now, God
help him, he wanted her small waist between his hands, wanted to smooth his palms down those slightly flared hips, wanted to feel the curve of her breasts pressed against his chest.

  As though Victoria felt his scrutiny, she glanced toward him and their gazes locked and heat shot through him. “You have to stop looking at me that way. I told you this can’t happen.” Somehow, this half-wild creature had totally beguiled him and he didn’t know what to do about it.

  Now, with her almost totally morphed back, it was tempting to believe he’d merely experienced a nightmare. He wondered how she was able to morph back.

  When Damon entered the room, Rick said, “Sir, maybe I’m not the man for this job. We almost got caught tonight.”

  “But you didn’t and—”

  Suddenly, Hugh entered with Valerie. Neither of them had morphed back. Remaining in the room with two fierce-looking wolves took some getting used to. Victoria had almost totally morphed back. Why hadn’t Valerie? She was whining softly and Hugh looked ready to kill. Something bad had happened. Hugh seemed determined to speak. But the only sound that escaped was a growl.

  “What happened?” Damon asked. “Is someone dead?”

  Hugh trotted over to a row of framed pictures. He grabbed one in his mouth and laid it at Damon’s feet. It was of a woman.

  “Kat?”

  Hugh moaned low in his throat.

  Victoria gasped and her eyes pooled with tears.

  Damon looked at Rick. “We’ll talk later. I have something to attend to.”

  “Can I help, sir?”

  “Stay with my girls and don’t let them out of the house, and don’t let anyone in.”

  “Yes, sir.” Rick felt inept, but a deadly emergency had occurred and this wasn’t the time to let Lamont down. He looked at the two werewolves, one almost totally morphed and one still in her feral state. Two pairs of intense, tear-filled feral eyes stared back at him. If that wasn’t enough to unglue him, their thick, wild hair finished the job. How the hell was he going to keep these beautiful alpha she-wolves with him?

  Thank God tonight was the last full moon this month. But at the rising of the next full moon, he’d be faced with trying to control their lupine behavior. Curiosity had really done a number on him and it appeared even more possible that it could actually kill him.

  Chapter Nine

  Damon followed Hugh, still in lupine form, to where Kat had been dumped. He almost gagged at the smell and bloody scene. He leaned a shovel against the boulder, kneeled, and prayed for her soul. He stood again and wiped the tears from his eyes. Kat, I wish I could have been there for you. But where was there? Looking at the area around the body, it wasn’t here. Someone had murdered her elsewhere and dumped her body on his property. What if the police didn’t see it that way? Dare he trust them to ferret out the truth? From past experience, he’d say no. It was obvious that someone wanted to involve him. No matter what, this brutal attack would affect the work going on in the lab, and his daughters’ future. If he just buried Kat, Angela might never forgive him. If he reported the murder to the police as he should do, the crucial lab tests would be put on hold, if not thwarted completely, and would stop or delay discovering a cure for his daughters.

  On the other hand, if he didn’t report the murder to the police and buried Kat, it would destroy possible evidence and the killer would go free. He wished he had taken time to discuss this with Angela. But he’d feared if someone else found Kat on the Lamont grounds, the blame would fall on him and the wolves housed in his lab.

  His throat constricted. What about Kat’s longtime just for now lover, Deeto, the guy she called her Italian stallion? He’d cared for her enough to propose several times. A hasty burial like this might make the poor guy go off the deep end. This vicious attack will touch so many lives.

  He heard a soft, mournful moan and looked down at his werewolf half-brother and wondered what he was thinking. He, too, had been a friend to Kat. And he, too, would be affected by this decision. Hunters would swarm into the area to kill all wolves, not just the werewolf who did this. With strong values battling with his relentless determination to save his daughters, Damon began to dig.

  Years ago, he’d buried Hugo doggie-style after his other werewolf-half brother had killed him. Was Hugh thinking about that day, or was his heart too heavy about this current loss? Hugh had risen from the dead. Had Reeves risen, too? He’d tried to kill Kat in another life. Had he finished the job in this one? And was the revenge aimed at Kat or him? He gripped the shovel so tightly his hands ached. If the killer was Reeves, it was probably both.

  If Reeves had risen from the dead, he was not only a cunning predator, but a supernatural monster bent on destroying all that was good and pure. Damon thought of his virgin daughters. Whatever the cost, he had to protect them.

  So many secrets were harbored within the walls of the mansion. Anyone living or working in the house had to know, or at least suspect that the household operated on secrets. How did he keep this latest tragedy under wraps?

  * * * *

  Angela heard the front door slam and rushed downstairs. Damon strode into the room like the devil was on his tail. His jeans and boots were dirt smudged and he carried the dirty white shirt over his arm. His wide chest glistened with sweat. In two quick moves, he drew her into his arms and hugged her so tightly she could scarcely breathe. “Damon, what is it?”

  He grabbed her arm. “We can’t talk here. Upstairs.”

  Fear shot through her. “Is it about the girls?”

  He shook his head, as if whatever he had to say was too painful to utter out loud. But if their girls were all right, what else could have him this upset?

  Once inside the master bedroom, he closed the door and faced her. “Is Hugh all right?” she asked.

  “He’s fine.” He pulled her into his arms again. “Please, Angela, no more questions until I get this said.”

  She heard the agony in his voice and her heart went out to him. She nodded, reached up and massaged his neck. Then it hit her. “There’s been another wolf attack, right?”

  His tight, grief-stricken expression revealed his torment. Tears glistened in his eyes. “Honey, Kat’s dead.”

  The room spun around and Angela’s knees buckled. All that kept her on her feet was Damon’s strong arms. He led her to the bed. “I want to go to her,” she managed to mutter.

  “I buried her.”

  She stiffened. “You did what? How dare you make a decision like that? She deserves a fine funeral and beautiful rites. Deeto will probably kill you.”

  “I considered all that, I swear, but I weighed everything against the best interests of our girls. We can give Kat a beautiful wake. But it will have to be kept a secret.”

  “More secrets? How can you believe you can keep something like that a secret anyway?”

  “It’s up to you and the girls to understand and cooperate. I’m doing the best I can with a devastating situation. I cared about Kat, too.”

  “Then how could you just bury her like garbage?”

  “It wasn’t like that. I got down on my knees and prayed for her soul, wishing her joy as she passes through the pearly gates. Given the emergency situation, I buried her with all the humanity and dignity possible. When I finished, I rolled a huge boulder over the grave to protect it from invaders. It was the best I could do under pressure.”

  Angela sat quietly, glaring at him, unable to accept his rationalizations for the quick burial. “Damon, this is just another example of you controlling everything, other people’s feelings be damned.” She wanted to get away from him, but tonight, she only had strength enough to bury her head in a pillow and cry her heart out. Kat was gone, brutally, brutally gone.

  Damon tried to gather her into his arms, but she pushed him away. He stroked her back and kissed her hair. “Leave me alone, Damon,” she muttered through her tears.

  “I’ll go check on our girls. Remember, I did this for them. They were out there tonight. Someone could have se
en one or both of them and they could have been linked to the attack.”

  He rose and left the room, leaving her with a resentment that had never been completely extinguished and a heart-wrenching sorrow that seeped through her like spilled acid.

  * * * *

  Damon winced as his thoughts threatened to sink deeper into the emptiness his life would become if he lost Angela over this. What caused most gaps between them was his need to win in every situation. That’s what made him a great businessman, but not a great husband. But this time, it had nothing to do with winning. It had to do with keeping his family safe. Facing death when he fought Reeves was nothing compared to this dark moment of his soul. A sharp pain shot straight to his heart. God help me. I know I acted rashly, but the thought of exposing my daughters’ affliction to the world and trapping them in a cursed existence is unacceptable. Lord, help me make Angela see that.

  He tightened his jaw against the agony and then opened the door to the girls’ bedroom. Rick was sitting on a window seat with one leg up, his eyes masked. Behind him was the golden glow of dawn, finally bringing blessed relief to Hugh and Valerie. Victoria, already morphed to her human state except for her wild onyx mane, sat on the bed cross-legged in her red cotton pajamas with white hearts on them. His heart warmed at her look of sweet innocence.

  Valerie and Hugh were on the exercise mats on the floor, softly growling at the painful twitches of morphing. They clung to the sheets over them as their half-lupine bodies jerked and their muscles convulsed. Finally, glistening with sweat and wailing, they morphed into their human states.