Mellizo Wolves

by Lynde Lakes

  She grabbed the shirt and slipped it on. It was still warm from his body heat. “Thanks,” she muttered.

  He tossed her his jacket. “Put that on, too.”

  She snuggled into it. More heat wrapped around her, along with his enticing male scent. An involuntary shiver went through her, this time not from the cold.

  He met her gaze. “What were you doing out on this road nude, anyway?”

  “You writing a book?” she quipped.

  “Nah. Just an incurably curious guy.”

  “That could land you in big trouble, friend.”

  “I’m used to trouble. But I’m glad you see me as a friend,” he said, grinning. “You can trust me.”

  She inhaled the foul scent of the hunters closing in. “All right,” she said. “But don’t even think of trying anything or your flashy Road King Classic will end up in a heap at the bottom of one of the ravines.” She was amazed how tough she sounded.

  “You know motorcycles?” he asked, amusement glinting in his eyes and his comeback as jaunty as if they were old friends.

  Her heartbeat quickened at his flirty raised brow and the deep, rich tone of his voice. “Not really. I’ve never ridden one.” If she had, she sure as heck wouldn’t have ridden nude. “But my Aunt Kat’s longtime boyfriend, Deeto, has one just like it.”

  Hearing the hunters’ voices getting closer, she said, “Look, let’s go—now! We can gab later.”

  He grinned, his eyes crinkling and his probing gaze as intimate as a kiss. “I’ll hold you to that. By the way, I’m Rick.”

  Although her heart was pounding like crazy from looking into his thickly lashed eyes, she didn’t have time for guy-crazy emotions or chitchat. “I’m Victoria. Now go!”

  “Terrific,” he said. “Another bossy chick.”

  He mounted the bike like a pro, agile, in control. Mr. Gorgeous was probably an expert at mounting all sorts of things…even females. She hiked her leg over the centerpiece and eased into the seat, wincing when her delicate genitals met icy leather. Forcing herself not to cry out, she tucked the shirt under her rump and thighs the best she could, wondering if he’d ever had a nude woman on his bike before.

  Her sense of vulnerability heightened as the powerful, high-gloss machine seemed to absorb her. It was even more frightening that the fascination and susceptible sensation she experienced extended to the bike possessor’s trim-waisted, wide-shouldered bod.

  Possessor. Interesting word choice, she thought. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like to be possessed by a wilder, more experienced guy like him.

  He handed her the helmet. “Put this on and cling tight to me.”

  She fought to ignore the heat that ignited between them as their fingers touched. Oh, God, I’m in real trouble here.

  Straddling the cycle with muscular legs, he flipped up the kick stand with a heel. He turned the key and hit the kick-start pedal.

  Victoria lowered the helmet shield and wrapped her arms tightly around his cold, bare, trim waist. It was a good thing they were only a short distance from her home for a number of reasons, including her nearly out of control desires and the fact he might freeze off his balls in the mountainous chill.

  He swerved onto the highway and hit the gas. She gasped and her knees locked tighter around the bike as an unbelievable surge of icy wind pounded her body. She pressed against him, searching for heat, excited by the in-control authority emitting from him and the power of the cycle vibrating between her thighs. She felt like an icicle with a boiling volcano about to erupt inside of her raging-hormones body.

  He glanced back. “You’re going to feel as exposed as you were while nude in the bushes, but inertia, centrifugal force and the bar behind you will hold you in place.”

  He failed to mention her steely hold on his solid middle. “I’ll be okay.”

  She clung tighter to his torso, memorizing its David-like contours and Goliath strength. She hoped she was pressing some of her warmth into his icy, exposed skin.

  In seconds, they rounded a curve and blended with the night. With her superior hearing, she caught the angry shouts of men near the edge of the road where they’d parked only moments ago. She breathed a sigh of relief. Now she only had her sister to worry about. And the exploding fireworks when Rick dropped her off at home—naked.

  Chapter Seven

  Damon paced the girls’ room while Angela stood on the terrace, staring out into the night. He didn’t just identify with her dread; he took it on and added it to his own. Often he absorbed the mirror neurons that activated her brain, sometimes without him even realizing it until his mood suddenly went through a radical change. Unfortunately, feeling the double agony didn’t ease hers.

  He glanced at the clothes on the floor. There was no doubt the curse had hit full-bore. Now his twins would be tormented by the same secrets that had kept him a prisoner for so long. Unless he found a cure, the girls’ agony would repeat at every full moon. Dear God, where were they? He had to find them before they harmed themselves or someone else. What if the wolf hunters were out tonight? He couldn’t even seek help. It would be dangerous for anyone to know about his girls’ affliction. Finding them rested solely on his shoulders. To save time, he had to figure out which direction they might have headed. He paused when he heard a motorcycle coming up his driveway. He rushed downstairs and glanced out the window. The full moon highlighted a bare-chested man and a scantily dressed girl wearing a helmet. His gut knotted. Although not in lupine form, the slender body gave him hope it was one of his girls.

  Victoria felt a stab of fear as Rick steered his bike up the curved driveway to the mansion. It was a bad sign that all the lights were on. As Rick eased to a stop, her dad tore out of the house like an enraged bull, her mother following, her face tearstained.

  “Where’s your sister?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know.” She wished she did.

  “Do you see that full moon? Did you forget you girls were confined to your room?” She figured he’d seen their clothing shredded on the floor and that was the reason he hadn’t asked why she was wearing just a man’s shirt and leather jacket.

  “Get off that bike now!”

  There was no graceful way to comply with his demand. She balanced herself with her left foot on the ground and hiked her right leg up and over the rear storage compartment that rested over the fender area.

  Her mother gasped.

  Dad glanced at Mom, transmitting one of their secret messages with his look. Then, in a no nonsense tone, he growled, “Victoria, go inside with your mother and try to explain your way out of this situation. And be prepared for a second grilling when I come in.”

  She squared her shoulders and stood firm. “First, I need to thank Rick for the ride and give him his shirt and jacket back.”

  “I’ll take care of this biker. You go inside. Now. You can send his clothes out with Kyle.” He pressed the remote control to the single door of the triple car garage. “Rick, is it? Follow me. We have some things to discuss.”

  Victoria grabbed her dad’s arm. “Dad, no. Please don’t embarrass me. This guy is just an innocent bystander.”

  “It’s all right,” Rick said. “If I were your father, I’d have a few questions, too.”

  Inside the garage, Victoria’s father introduced himself. Rick had heard of Damon Lamont and knew the man could play hardball. He felt a tic at the corner of his eyelid and wondered if Lamont noticed. What the hell was he worried about? As long as he dealt straight with this concerned father, they shouldn’t come to blows.

  Lamont got down two bar stools hanging from the wall. “Have a seat. So, what’s your last name, Rick? Ricardo?”

  “No, sir, it’s Tanner. I’m half Indian.”

  “An Indian biker. My daughter can sure pick ‘em.”

  Rick felt Lamont sizing him up. He knew standing there, bare-chested, in biker boots with a diamond stud in his earlobe, he looked like every father’s worst nightmare. />
  “How old are you, Rick?”

  “Twenty, sir.”

  “My daughter is only eighteen.”

  Rick felt heat crawl up his neck. He wanted to point out that eighteen was the age of consent in California. But it wasn’t the kind of thing to say to an angry father. “I didn’t ask her age. When a nude woman is in distress on a dark mountain road, my only goal is to get her home safely.”

  “You didn’t touch her, did you?” Lamont’s words sounded more like a threat than a question.

  “No, sir. She told me if I even thought of trying anything, my Road King would end up in a heap at the bottom of one of the ravines. Your daughter is one tough cookie.” Rick fought the admiration in his voice.

  Lamont almost smiled. “So tell me your side of what happened?”

  “Not much to tell. Your daughter was nude and vulnerable in the bushes and I brought her home. I think someone might have been chasing her. She was in a hurry to get out of there.”

  A redheaded carrot-top with spiky hair and pale, water-blue eyes slipped out of the mansion like a phantom and handed Rick his shirt and jacket.

  Lamont introduced the man as his houseman and friend, Kyle Cooper. He shook Cooper’s icy hand, thanked him, and then Cooper slipped away, silent as a ghost, and disappeared into the house. Rick had heard that everyone who lived or worked at this place was odd. He was beginning to believe the rumors.

  “Are you in school, Rick?” Lamont asked.

  “S.B.V.C. Night classes.”

  “Employed?”

  “I’m head security officer at Mt. Baldy Resorts.” Rick felt his body stiffening at the barrage of questions.

  Lamont’s eyes widened. “You’re in security? And part Indian?” Rick could see the wheels turning in Lamont’s head. “Any tracking experience?”

  “I was raised in the desert near an Indian reservation. My Uncle, Indian Joe, taught me a lot about tracking. And my brother Al has a detective agency in Palm Springs. I helped him out during the summers when I was in high school.”

  “Intriguing background. Maybe we can do some business. I have a missing daughter. I’ll pay you five hundred dollars if you find her tonight. She might be on the same road where you found Victoria, or wandering the hills at the foot of Mt. Baldy.”

  “I’d be glad to help, sir, but as a fellow human being, not a paid tracker. What does she look like?”

  Lamont pulled out his wallet and handed him a photo. “She’s Victoria’s identical twin. The only difference between the girls is Valerie is blonde, a little quieter, and more vulnerable.”

  Rick handed the picture back, headed for his Harley, and called over his shoulder, “I’ll cruise the Baldy highway and adjacent area. If I don’t find her along the road, I’ll head into the hills. This Harley can go almost anywhere. And my boots can go where it can’t. If she’s out there, I’ll find her.

  Valerie felt trapped. For hours, the dominant black wolf paced in front of her, imprisoning her. Her growls of displeasure hadn’t fazed him. Finally, exhausted, she’d lain down and watched him pace back and forth until her eyes grew heavy. Maybe if she feigned sleep, he’d get sleepy, too, and then she could escape.

  Instead, she’d fallen asleep, slept through the night and awoke to a blaze of dawn next to her hairy captor who was writhing in the throws of morphing. Good God, she’d been captured by a werewolf! Her urge to run was thwarted by her own debilitating act of morphing. The gigantic wolf’s morphing process seemed faster than hers. Holy cow, if he gained control of his mind and body before she did, he’d gain the upper hand again.

  Last night, she’d lost her bearings and wasn’t sure where they’d ended up. Now they were in a circle of boulders under the shadow of the daunting Mt. Baldy. She knew the area. It was dotted with a camouflage of low, concealing brush and a scattering of rocky caves—a perfect refuge for wolves—and throat-ripping werewolves. Why hadn’t he forced her into one of the caves and attacked her?

  The black hair evaporated from his face and body. He managed to cover his nudity with leafy limbs from the underbrush. It was then she realized she was nude, too. With effort, she managed to crawl to a bush. She used her girl scout training to strip limbs and twist leaves around it. The process was time-consuming so she just covered her breasts and pubic area. Her creation looked like Eve’s first leafy whack at bikini fashion. The prickly foliage itched, but that was preferable to remaining exposed. She didn’t want to give this werewolf any ideas.

  When she looked at him again, her mouth dropped open. It was the construction boss—her dad’s friend—the man she called Uncle Hugh—the gentle man who’d watched over her and her sister for years. “Uncle Hugh!”

  “Don’t be afraid, Valerie. I’m here to protect you and help you get home safely.”

  Rick cruised the road to Mt. Baldy until daylight, then he headed his bike into the rough hills. He drove slowly, searching for tracks. He found a set of small prints that led to the road where he’d picked up Victoria, followed by bigger and heavier prints. The heavy prints proceeded to the road and then circled back into the hills. As he continued into the rough, hilly terrain, around boulders and prickly brush, he failed to find a second set of female prints. Fine tracker he was. He couldn’t even find the missing girl’s tracks.

  When he discovered three sets of wolf prints, one set belonging to a very large wolf, his neck prickled. A pack of wolves was a bad sign with a young woman roaming the hills lost and perhaps injured or disoriented. Maybe he was worrying about nothing. Shoot, maybe by now Lamont’s search party had found the wayward chick.

  He was about to turn around when he spied a young blonde who looked identical to Victoria and a man about Lamont’s age coming down path wearing nothing but leafy brush over their privates. Who was the older guy and why was he tromping around in the bushes with the girl who clearly had to be Valerie?

  “Hey, you, what the hell are you doing with Lamont’s daughter?”

  “It’s okay,” Valerie said. “He’s my Uncle Hugh. He kept me safe all night.”

  Rick wasn’t convinced. He eased his bike closer. “Why are you both naked?”

  “Look, young man,” Hugh said. “We don’t know you and don’t owe you any explanations.”

  Rick took off his jacket and shirt and handed them to Valerie. “Put these on and get on my bike. Your dad sent me to bring you home.”

  “I won’t turn my niece over to some earring-wearing, half-baked biker.”

  Rick flashed his Mt. Baldy security badge. “This should convince you I’m not one of those hunters.” He didn’t know why the Lamont girls were afraid of the hunters, but the story he saw in the prints and Victoria’s eagerness to escape the area told him they were. He turned his attention back to Valerie and said, “Valerie, your parents have had search parties out all night. They’re worried sick. Now get on.”

  “His badge looks legit,” she said, “and it sounds like something Dad would do. I’d better go.”

  As she climbed on behind him, Rick called over his shoulder. “Hang loose, sir, and I’ll be back to get you as soon as I can. And I’ll bring some clothes.” He didn’t want a nearly nude man hugging his waist. But having a second nude twin hugging his waist within eight hours was a memory he’d smile about for years.

  Rick decided it would take more time to return to the road than to head in a somewhat direct line toward the mansion with its imposing towers. He might luck out and meet Lamont’s search party—and the sooner he eased Lamont’s mind, the better. He rode slowly through the bumpy terrain, cursing silently as the bushes scratched his once shiny Harley and protruding rocks chewed at his tires. When they were halfway to the Lamont place, he met the unnerved daddy and his search party.

  “You found her,” Lamont said in a choked voice. “Thank God.” He handed Valerie some clothes. “Go behind that boulder and put these on.” He met Rick’s gaze. “I can’t thank you enough.”

  “I didn’t really do much. She was already under he
r uncle’s protective care and heading home.”

  Lamont frowned. “Uncle?”

  “Your daughter called him Uncle Hugh.”

  “Oh, him. He’s not really related, but the girls love him and he adores them like they were his own.”

  “Well, sir, I think maybe you should know that they were both naked.”

  Lamont’s eyes widened. “What?”

  Valerie came around the boulder at that moment and said, “Dad, I can explain that—in private. Trust me. It’s all good, I swear.”

  “I don’t know how it could be,” Damon said. “But because I do trust you, I’ll wait until I have the whole story to tear Hugh limb from limb. And it better be damned good.”

  Valerie handed Rick his shirt and jacket. “Thanks, Mr. Trouble Maker.”

  Rick fought his traitorous feelings. “I’ll go back and get Hugh and you can all sort this out.” He believed even more firmly that the Lamonts, their staff, and friends were a bunch of weird ducks.

  “Fine,” Lamont said. “Afterwards, I want to have a little talk with you.”

  “Sir, I was up all night looking for your daughter and my shift at the resort starts in about twenty minutes. Soon as I get Hugh, I have to check in for work. I’ll be late as it is, but they’ll understand when I tell them I was helping to rescue your daughter. I can catch an hour or two of shut-eye at the end of my shift and drop by after.”

  “It’s a deal,” Lamont said, squeezing his shoulder. “And thanks again.”

  Hugo, now Hugh, blinked in surprise when he saw the biker returning. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go back and face Damon and his questions. But it would be cowardly not to—and he was no coward.

  “Thanks for coming back,” Hugh said. “Did you bring clothes?”

  “There weren’t any available. I met the search party on the way up here. You’ll have to be satisfied with my jacket.” He tossed it to him. “Climb on.”

  The ride was short and Hugh thanked the young biker. He decided to enter through the hidden access in the tunnels he’d retained for his use alone. He came out in his room. He wondered if Damon would revoke his generosity when he found out the truth. He pulled on some clothes and went in search of his half-brother. He found him in the den.