by Lynde Lakes
Chapter Three
The evening sky was dark as Damon looked out the window, watching for Angela’s car headlights to brighten the driveway and lighten his heart. Finally, he heard the hum of the Camry motor. He waited and counted to fifty, trying to calm his excitement. He rushed to Angela as she entered the front door, enfolded her into his arms, and pressed his lips to the coral sweetness. It was so damn easy to melt into the soft moisture and delve into the minty cavern of her mouth. Her flowery scent wafted around him, intoxicating him. He felt himself swell with desire, and he drew her tightly against the heat of his body. With her coat open, her soft curves fit perfectly into his hardness. She didn’t have a hint of a tummy in her form-fitting red dress. But soon she would swell and make room for their unborn twin girls. That thought triggered a smidgeon of sanity. He held her away and said, “I’ve got a wild idea.”
She laughed. “Yes, I feel it pressing against my thigh.”
“That too, but first, I have to tell you my other idea. I’ve been thinking about it all day. Don’t shoot me down until you hear the whole plan.”
“Okay,” she said saucily. “I’ll shoot you down after.”
“Witty.” He took her coat and hung it in the closet, tracing his finger over the back of her slender neck. Trying to concentrate, he led her to the living room couch and sat close beside her. He lifted her hands and kissed the tips of her icy fingers slowly, one by one.
Her eyes glinted. “Great intro, but don’t keep me in suspense. What’s the idea?”
“I want to fight fire with science. My strategy is to hire top scientists with specialties in geology, anthropology, and genealogy. And are you ready for this? I want to set up a lab in the dungeon for them.”
She looked down at the empty bourbon glass on the coffee table. “How many of those did you have before I got home?”
“Funny, but I’m serious. Even though I know in my heart our girls will be perfect, I feel it’s my job as their daddy to prepare for any eventuality. I never want them to suffer the excruciating pain we suffered, or the fears. Or let them be controlled by raging desire and a need to conquer.”
Angela paled and he was glad he hadn’t said everything he was thinking—that he didn’t want some inner predator-wolf taking over their senses—nor did he want his little darlings to get desperate enough to contemplate suicide, the eventual solution of most of his family.
He pulled Angela into the circle of his arms and kissed her forehead. “Part of the science team’s job will be to inspect the inner-earth in that two mile radius, make predictions, and suggest solutions to stop any negative activity.” He paused. “Now, here’s the part that may sound like I’m delving into science fiction. In addition, their job will be to come up with a serum to control werewolf tendencies.”
She froze. Fear flickered in her eyes. Then she took a deep breath and blew it out, as though attempting to calm herself. “I love you for dreaming this up, Damon. However, delving into untested serums and performing expensive research to look for miracle drugs known only in fiction sounds a bit nutty. And I don’t want our babies mixed up in it.”
“Remember what Madam Nola said? She said to enjoy what we have now, build on it, and strengthen it, or it may not last.”
“How is that relevant?” Angela asked. “Never mind, I don’t care what she said. I don’t relish the idea of a team of mad scientists conjuring up mysterious potions in my home. Nevertheless, because I love you beyond reason, I won’t get in your way.” He stroked the line of her heart-shaped face. He loved her more in that moment than ever before.
His stomach knotted when she added, “But don’t involve our girls.”
He couldn’t promise that, so he said nothing. He hoped it would never become necessary. He gave her a passionate kiss that sealed any further discussion.
When she pressed her breasts into his chest, he felt a surge of heat in his groin. He deepened his voice and whispered into her ear. “Come with me down into the dungeon and let’s discuss my ideas further in privacy. Later, we can listen to some Straus and make love in front of the dungeon fireplace. I have a picnic set up down there. I can show you my layout and—”
She arched a naughty brow. “Based on what I’ve seen in the past of your layout, lead on, big boy.”
A week later, early in the morning, Damon—in jeans, denim jacket and boots—and his five-man team of scientists dressed in beige field-garbs and boots were barely aware of the sun rising over the purple peaks east of them.
They were too engrossed in the atypical species of rattle snake slithering on the ground toward Damon. It coiled upward, raising its two heads, and hissed. An instant before it could strike, Dr. Simon Lazar shot it with a lab stun gun and then scooped it into a net. He eased the netted unconscious snake into a clear container with air holes and started back to the lab. “No doubt about it, Mr. Lamont, weird changes are evident. Yesterday, we found a rabbit with a rat’s tale and a toad with centipede legs.”
Damon’s thoughts were still on the snake. He remembered wondering, before he knew Reeves was his half-brother and a vicious killer werewolf, why when he left the room, he often reminded him of a snake slithering into the darkness.
The chill that shot through Damon had nothing to do with the chilly breeze coming from the northeast. He made a mental note to tell Angela to stay the hell away from this area.
He blew out a gust of air. His mouth felt as dry as the hillside beyond them, yet every cell in his body hummed with anticipation. He was so keyed up he had to remind himself to breathe. “What about the other studies we discussed?”
“I’ve done a great deal of research on lycanthropes, both documented reports and folklore, and I’m confident I can develop a serum. However, please understand the process is by trial and error and may take years. To achieve our goal, I’ll need a supply of healthy wolves.”
“Will they be hurt?” Damon couldn’t allow that.
“Just a prick,” Lazar said. “We need some of their blood. After we’ve tested a wide sample and performed the related studies, we’ll let them go.”
Damon watched the huge hole-boring machines plunge into the ground and bring out shovels of mud samples. When Lazar headed back to the lab, Damon followed him. The other scientists remained behind and continued gathering mud samples. “Do you need additional researchers to speed things along?”
“Ever hear of too many cooks spoiling the broth? We prefer to do our own research and studies. Bringing other egos into our limited space will impede the process.”
“I’m aware you’re all writing papers and competing for the Nobel Prize on your findings here and you want to be thorough, but time is of the essence. Lives are at risk.”
Lazar’s eyes brightened. “That’s what makes this project so exciting. Don’t worry. I’ll have answers for you soon.”
“Great. So where are we on this?”
“Our samples to date have revealed that the liquefaction in the area contains both evil toxins and healing properties—nature’s balance of good and evil in turmoil, if you will.” His mordant laugh snapped the morning air like a whip.
Damon glanced up and caught a glimpse of the backdrop of rocky, savage hills. The wolf who once resided within him loved them—they had given him a sense of freedom. Now their rugged austerity reminded him of the evil brewing under the surface. An icy sense of panic made it difficult to breathe. He thought of the two-headed snake intent upon sinking his fangs into flesh. Why did life have to be so violent? He ran his fingers through his hair. Why had he been so violent? Would he ever lose the bloody image of his brutal attack on his stepbrother? Perhaps his horrendous exploit had now come back to haunt him. His stomach knotted. “How will the toxins affect humans?”
“We can’t risk injecting humans with the sludge liquid to find out. But if a human comes into contact with it by accident, you can bet the outcome will be tragic.” He laughed cynically. “It’d be an interesting commentary on nature’s weighing-sca
le if the liquid affected humans according to the lives they led, a healing potion to the good and a toxic potion to the evil souls.”
A week later, Christmas rode in on a flurry of excitement and chilling breezes.
Their twenty-foot high Christmas tree filled the downstairs with the fragrance of pine, and its lights and decorations were stunning, even magical. But in spite of the festive creation that Angela, Damon, and Kyle Cooper had designed and decorated together, she felt the holiday spirit was hampered by having mad scientists with joyless, pale faces marching in and out like zombies in white sterile coats.
When Angela couldn’t stand the constant invasion of their privacy a day longer, she whirled and faced him. “Damon, having the lab in the dungeon isn’t working. You forgot to mention that wolves would be housed down there. Keeping feral animals penned up is cruel, and I hate to think of the danger if one got loose. I can’t bear their forlorn howls, and after our girls are born, I don’t want wolves anywhere around. Besides, all these weird goings-on could start up all the old rumors about the mansion and the Lamont family again.”
He stepped close and drew her into his arms. “Honey, your feelings are valid and understandable, but we can’t move the operation yet. We must operate around the clock on-site to obtain the most accurate readings. If you’ll just be patient until we gauge exactly what’s going on out there in that broiling mud, I’ll be eternally grateful.”
Fighting to hold firm, she studied his handsome, strong face and her heart did a flip-flop at the love gleaming in his eyes.
Then he moved in for the kill and kissed the lobe of her ear, sending heat along her nerve endings. “And it will greatly benefit the whole community.”
She backed up a step and narrowed her eyes. “O…Okay. How long, Damon?”
The winter sun slanted low in the window and fell at their feet. As the silence extended between them, he offered his usual answer to any complaint. He drew her close again, brought his lips hotly down on hers, kissed her until she was dizzy with wanting him, and then swept her off her feet and carried her upstairs. Damn him.
Damon inhaled. The bright sunshine streaming through the open window highlighted the king-sized bed. He glanced down at Angela and the always dependable wave of desire flared through him and stiffened his penis. Although her very enticing form-fitting jeans and sleeveless sweater that clung to her breast like second skin showed off her body in aces, he couldn’t wait to get her out of them. Her body would feel firm and fit against his, yet soft and womanly. He sought her gaze and brushed her knuckles with his lips. Her emerald eyes darkened. Her lips parted, all dewy and inviting. He cupped her face in his hands and touched her lips. She moaned and pressed against him, inviting his passion, his power.
Answering the call, he brought his mouth down gently on hers, savoring the minty flavor and losing himself in her warm softness. He slid his hands down the curve of her spine. As the scent of fresh shampoo hit his nostrils, he stroked a strand of her hair. His mouth watered, anticipating the release of the volatile energy that always rode the electrified air between them.
He slipped her sweater over her head. “Lovely,” he murmured, tracing the line of her breasts with a feather light fingertip. She kissed his fingers and then sucked the index finger, her eyes promising more.
He slowly lowered her jeans. She wriggled to help. When they were almost off, she kicked the denim to the floor and yanked at his shirt and trousers. Breathing hard, they finally faced each other in the nude. The sunshine had transformed her slender body into a golden silhouette. They crawled to the center of the bed and challenged each other, knees and thighs branding one another’s skin. He almost exploded when she stroked his bare chest and then trailed her fingers lower.
While their kisses grew more frantic, he traced her thigh and then moved higher between her legs and found her silky vagina heated to a shivery liquid. His trusty male member throbbed and without any conscious thought on his part, reacting to her signals.
Wild with fever, she arched her back and thrust her hips forward; leaving no doubt that she was inviting him to love her. Now!
She inhaled and released a moan of ecstasy as he explored the smooth contour of her belly and the moist triangle of curly hair with his hands, his lips.
“I want you now.” She moaned, arching her hips even higher to meet his seeking fingers.
He slid on top of her. She clung to him as he gently entered her and began the feral dance of rising passion. She slid her hand down his chest and around his waist…then lower…and dug her fingers into his buttocks and cried out. Her cries of pleasure increased his own and together they exploded again and again. Then he convulsed inside her and together they plunged over the edge, clinging to one another.
Damon lay still until her breathing evened out then he rolled off her and they lay side-by-side.
Angela traced a prominent tendon in his hand. “Damon, I’m trusting you to protect us.”
“I know.” His afterglow faded fast and worry filled its place. He scooted down in bed, taking her with him. He placed her head on his shoulder. “Close your eyes.” He stroked her hair and felt her relax. But he couldn’t unwind. So many things were out of his control. He decided the least he could do was to hire a crew to build an outside entrance to the dungeon. Maybe if he could make her understand the importance of the work she’d accept that compromise for now.
In Angela’s office, in her sixth month of pregnancy, Dudley Knox, the cowboy toad, cornered Louise the bookkeeper again and berated her until she cried. He shouted so loud Kat came running to help. Angela waved her back. “I’ll handle this, Kat,” she said, and then leveled her gaze at Dudley. “Look, Napoleon, Louise is the best bookkeeper we’ve ever had and she deserves praise, not your constant insults.”
Dudley glared at Angela with fire in his eyes. “I’ll let you get away with your smart-mouthed insubordination because I know PG women have all those bitchy hormones charging around inside them.”
Angela bristled but broke eye contact when she sensed Kat start forward. Again, she waved her back. No sense getting both of us canned.
Before she could let loose on him, he growled on, “But don’t get lippy again. Or I’ll fire your expanding ass.”
Angela clenched her hands into fists. But rather than smack Dudley in the mouth like he deserved, she clamped them at her side. “Don’t bother, I quit. And I plan to tell the big bosses exactly why. And why two of our best accountants quit since they put you in charge.”
“If you know what’s good for you,” Dudley said, “you’ll keep your mouth shut just like they did.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Is that a threat?”
“I don’t make threats. But be careful of stairs from now on. Be a shame to fall at this stage of your pregnancy.”
Thirty minutes later when she stormed into the house, Damon met her at the door.
“I heard your car in the driveway. Is something wrong?” He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close.
In spite of the comfort his warm embrace provided, she was unable to stop trembling. She looked up at him. “I finally got enough of Dudley and quit. And then, the toad threatened me and our precious unborn babies—he said to watch out for stairs,” she muttered against a sob.
Damon released her, his eyes ablaze. “The bastard.” He balled his hands into fists. “He won’t give you any more trouble, that’s a guarantee.”
“No. Please, don’t do anything. I don’t want to escalate the animosity. I said some things maybe I shouldn’t have said. Just hold me for a few minutes.”
He drew her back into his arms. “I’m going to talk to him,” he said into her hair. “Afterwards, if he comes within a mile of you, I’ll kill him.”
She stiffened. “No! Don’t even say such a thing.” She meant it, but the fact that he felt so strongly about keeping her safe sent a surge of love to her heart.
Unfortunately, as evidence by the pulse throbbing angrily in his jaw, she’d a
wakened a murderous emotion that would only get him in trouble. She stroked the pulsing line until it evened out and disappeared.
As though nothing had ruffled him, he bent and kissed her nose. “I’m glad you quit. It’ll give us more time together.”
“And it’ll give me more time to fix up the nursery. I want it to be perfect for our little girls’ arrival into the world. I want to decorate the room adjoining ours.
His expression darkened again. “My sister’s room?”
“No.” Her heart speeded. She didn’t want the room his sister was murdered in for their girls. “I meant the room on the other side that adjoins ours. Although it’s a bit smaller, I like the layout better.”
His expression lost its tension. “Let’s go take a look,” he said, and swept her from her feet and started up the stairway.
She shivered, remembering Dudley’s words about steps.
Damon lowered her to her feet and opened the door. The room smelled musty, and he opened a window. An air mattress lay on the floor.
“Isn’t that the mattress you kept in the dungeon?” she asked. It hadn’t been here yesterday when she looked at the room.
“I brought it up here last night.”
“Why?”
“I promised myself we’d christen every room in the mansion with our love,” he said, getting a glint in his eyes that she knew so well.
She shook her head and laughed. “Not the nursery.”
“Definitely the nursery. Best we do it now before you start your big decorating project. Wouldn’t want to mess things up once you get the room the way you want it.”
