Rafe grinned at her, still full of mirth. “What, you hang out with a shifter, but you don’t believe vampires exist?”
She had seldom resented her upbringing this much. “Of course I know they exist. It’s just that by insisting that I only hang out with humans, my parents didn’t prepare me for the reality of our society at all.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, vampires hold themselves to be above society too.” He got amused again. “Or, at least, this particular vampire does.”
“So who is he then?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“Alexander Hamilton, Lord Foley, is the most important, powerful, and dangerous vampire in the country, if not the whole world. He’s the leader of the Crimson Circle.”
It sounded like a secret society, so she wasn’t embarrassed that she hadn’t heard about it before. “And that would be?”
“It’s a group of elite vampire warriors. It was founded in France during the first Crusade to protect all two-natureds against humans, but these days they concentrate solely on defending vampires against their own enemies. However, luckily for us, its current base of operations is in Epsom too.”
She hadn’t been far off with the secret society notion then. “I take it that people like him don’t exactly grant audiences.”
He nodded. “Not just to anyone. But since our clan has lived close to the Circle Manor for centuries, we’ve established a working relationship.”
“Saves time in diplomacy,” she remarked dryly.
He laughed. “Exactly. But we still can’t simply march in there. Jamie has to handle this.” When she lifted her brows questioningly, he continued. “He’s my brother and the leader of our clan.”
So she would get to meet the family. A nervous flutter went through her.
They didn’t drive to Epsom proper but to the countryside surrounding it, along ever narrowing lanes, until they came to a long, old stone wall that clearly marked the boundaries of a larger estate. There was a modern electric gate in the wall, and a guard checked their identities before allowing them to drive through onto a private lane that continued for two more miles before they reached the Greenwood clan manor.
Charly stared at the beautiful building in awe. It was a three stories high, c-shaped Queen Anne style redbrick manor with white trimmings in its corners and around its many windows. A wide sweep of steps led to the front door from a formal courtyard.
To her disappointment, Rafe didn’t drive to the front door but continued to a low building a little away from the house that must have been a stable at one time, but which was now a garage. They got out and he put Bob on a leash before leading them to a side entrance. “Dogs don’t react well to having this many shifters around,” he explained.
“Is this your ancestral home?” Her family was third generation wealthy, which impressed her mother greatly, but they couldn’t lay claim to a property like this.
He smiled at her. “After a fashion. My father had it built for the clan in the early eighteenth century, but my family had been running the clan even before that, and we’ve always lived here.”
Of course, other members of the family would be long-living too. “Is he still around?”
His face got serious. “No, he died in the Second World War.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you.” He sounded grateful for her condolences, even though the loss had happened seventy years ago. He hadn’t lied when he’d said that when you lived long you had time to mourn longer too. Perhaps she should reconsider her need to try to force him into that position.
The side door opened to a huge kitchen that had been remodelled recently, now filled with modern appliances that fit surprisingly well with the old surroundings. It was full of hustle and bustle, and judging by the amount of food, the staff was preparing for a party of some kind. “The full moon feast,” Rafe explained her, snatching a couple of pastries from a cooling rack as he passed it, evading the swat the cook served him with a laugh. “It’s my lunch,” he said to the round woman, who immediately promised to make them something proper to eat.
“How many people are coming to your feast?” Charly asked as they exited the kitchen, still marvelling at all the food.
“The entire clan, some sixty people, including children yet unable to shift.” Charly nodded, glad that she knew at least something about shifters: the first shift happened around the time they hit puberty. “Tonight we’re also celebrating; a cub made her first shift a couple of days ago.”
That didn’t sound like a teenager. “She’s a cub?” she asked, amused, thinking about the human teenagers who all wanted to be treated like adults.
Rafe smiled too. “When you live as long as we do, childhood stretches longer too. And although the human half is growing up already, the wolf is truly only a cub. A shifter has to learn everything anew in their second form, so it’s convenient that the beast emerges as a cub at first. They cause less damage to themselves and the environment that way.”
“So when do they stop being cubs?” The topic fascinated her. Shifter life was so alien to her.
“They stay cubs for quite a long time, actually. The human half is over twenty before the wolf is mature, and closer to thirty before they start thinking about mating.”
Rafe led her and Bob through a maze of corridors towards the other end of the house, and Charly studied everything with great interest. The interior matched the outside. The walls had dark hardwood panelling and the wooden floors were covered with well-worn runners. The corridors, and the few rooms she got a glimpse into, were decorated with antique furniture that were a mismatch of styles from centuries past, but everything had a lived-in feeling to it. This was a home, not a museum.
Then they passed through a section of the house that had a more polished feel to it and she guessed it was the official side, where the clan business was conducted. “How many people live here?”
“All the unmarried males live in the manor, ten at the moment besides me and my brother. And Harry, of course. For the married, we have family cottages around the estate. Unmarried girls live with their families unless they move out on their own. They can do that these days,” he added with mock horror.
Charly smiled. She wondered briefly who Harry was to merit a special mention, but before she had a chance to ask they arrived at their destination, a pair of narrow doors. Rafe gave the wooden pane a quick knock. If there was an answer, Charly didn’t hear it. Rafe opened the doors and they entered into a very traditional, masculine study with heavy furniture of gleaming hardwood and antique leather. There was a fire crackling in an open fireplace on the right to banish the dampness, ceiling-high bookshelves with glass doors full of books to the left, and at the other end, by the French windows that opened to a huge park, sat a big desk.
Seated behind the desk was a man who was a carbon copy of Rafe, only his colouring was fairer and he was a bit more heavily built, with steely muscles. He got up when they entered, rounded the desk to Rafe, and pulled him into a hug as if they hadn’t seen each other in ages. Charly found that closeness almost as alien as everything else about shifters that she’d learned so far. There had been no hugs in her family. Rafe answered the embrace with ease, so it was probably normal behaviour here. To her surprise, she found herself feeling envious of it.
Close up, Charly could detect a couple more differences in the other man. His eyes were amber instead of blue, and there were a few more lines around his eyes when he smiled at Rafe. Then he turned his eyes at her and she had to struggle to meet them. The power in his gaze seemed almost physical. He cocked a wheat-blond brow and suddenly she couldn’t take it anymore. She simply had to avert her eyes.
Rafe laughed. “I told you she’s strong. Jamie, meet Charlotte Thornton. Charly, this is my brother, James Green, the leader of Greenwood clan and the toughest alpha in the country. Don’t feel bad that you couldn’t meet his gaze. Humans don’t normally do half as well as you did.”
Jamie smiled too, and w
hen Charly looked at him again she was able to meet his eyes. She felt like she had been tested. She didn’t know if she had passed the test, but she refused to be cowed. She straightened her spine and Jamie nodded, as if approving. Then he greeted Bob with a rub behind its ears, the dog definitely subdued by his presence, before turning to Rafe.
“Are you all right? Kieran called and said he got the scent. He’ll call when he’s tracked his prey.”
“We’re fine, but we need your help with another matter,” Rafe told his brother. “Charly tracked the owner of the land, and you’ll never guess who it is.” Jamie cocked his brow again, in question this time, and Rafe smiled. “Foley.”
Jamie blinked once. Then, like Rafe earlier, he burst out laughing. “Those poor sods in the village won’t know what hit them when he learns about this. Mind you,” he continued more sober once he had laughed enough, “it rubs me the wrong way to let the bloodsuckers do our dirty work.”
Rafe nodded. “Let’s worry about that when we find out who’s behind this. Right now, we need to set a meeting with him.”
Jamie smiled, the expression as wolfish as Rafe’s. “Leave it to me.”
Chapter Seventeen
Rafe and Charly left Jamie to his negotiations with vampires, and Bob to sleep on a rug by the fireplace. Not even an alpha wolf-shifter fazed Bob for long. They headed to the breakfast room at the back of the house near the kitchen, a cheery room decorated in yellow that enjoyed daylight most of the day, that feature still as important as it had been when the house was built, even with modern electricity. Most of the space was taken up by a long oaken table that seated twenty, the maximum number of clan members that could be in residence at one time. In contrast, the huge dining room in the west wing had room for the entire clan to sit down together, and then some. Floor to ceiling windows offered a beautiful view over the park and, opposite them, a long side-table was laden with platters of food. Since there would be a feast that evening, lunch was served cold, but Rafe was hungry and food was food.
Lunch was never formal in the house. There were already three men at the table enjoying their meal, and the rest would drop in before long. Food was a serious matter to them and they wouldn’t have paused for more than a nod at Rafe if they hadn’t noticed Charly by his side. One by one, they ceased eating, put down their utensils, and straightened their spines in curious bewilderment. They then remembered that they actually had manners and got up, their chairs scraping against the wooden floor. All their wolves peeked out too, sniffing the air with interest.
Rafe grinned at them. “At ease, boys. This is Charlotte Thornton, the solicitor I hired for the Betchworth case.” Then he turned to Charly. “These are some of the unmarried males living in the house. Soldiers, mostly.”
She lifted her expressive black brows. “Soldiers?”
Rafe shrugged. “Shifters aren’t exactly universally liked. We’ve had to adopt practices that keep our cubs safe.”
She nodded at him in understanding before turning to smile at the blokes. It was a polite smile, but suddenly he got an overwhelming urge to step between her and the men so that they couldn’t gawp at her. She was his.
Matt, the oldest of the men present, noticed his tension. If Rafe’s possessive behaviour amused him, considering Rafe had never shown such tendencies before, he didn’t let it show. He just nodded at Charly, keeping his body language neutral and his wolf deferent so as not to agitate Rafe; his ability to read situations was one of the reasons he was high up in the clan hierarchy. Rafe was actually glad that Matt understood him so well, for the new situation he found himself in was unsettling him and he didn’t need additional provocation.
Matt seemed to realise too, that Rafe did not intend to introduce the blokes to her. “How do you do, Miss Thornton. I’m Matthew Collins, but you can call me Matt. These two are Jonathan and Kenneth.” The two younger men were barely out of their adolescence with their fifty odd years apiece, although they looked about twenty. Nate and Ken nodded too, but they weren’t quite as good at hiding their curiosity as Matt was; they kept studying Charly with eager smiles on their faces. Human females weren’t invited to a lunch in the manor all that often, and not once since Jamie’s divorce.
Controlling his urge to snarl at the men for daring to cast their eyes at his woman, Rafe guided Charly to the side table to fill their plates before taking seats at the opposite end of the long table from the others.
Nate frowned. “She doesn’t smell scared. Why are you sitting over there?”
Ken, who was obviously faster to pick up on clues, cuffed him at the back of his head. “Twat.” Then he flashed Charly a smile. “Please, ignore my friend,” he drawled. “He was raised by wolves.”
Charly burst out laughing and, delighted with his success, Ken spent the rest of the meal trying to amuse her with silly anecdotes about shifter life. She responded with ease, teasing the men in return, making Rafe both delighted and aggravated. He liked that she wasn’t scared or appalled by his people, but he didn’t want her to smile at anyone but him. Recognising the dangerously possessive thought pattern, he didn’t intervene like he wanted to. Consequently, he didn’t enjoy the meal as much as usual.
A timely arrival by Kieran saved him from doing anything stupid, like throwing Charly over his shoulder and carrying her to his bedroom and locking her there – with him in there too, of course. Kieran was a few years younger than him and looked about thirty, like most adult shifters. Tall and lithe, his physique was ideal for the stealth needed for tracking, even if his auburn hair tended to be noticeable no matter how well he hid himself.
“Lost the bastard,” he said upon seeing Rafe at the table. If he found Charly’s presence curious, he didn’t react in any way. “He got into a car. But I’m planning to go around the village tomorrow to try and recognise the scent there.”
Rafe paused in his eating. “Good work. Any news about the wolves from yesterday?”
Kieran nodded, heading to gather a heaping plate of food. “The building security got the footage from the CCTV cameras at the car park. They didn’t recognise their faces and neither did the local clan leaders, but they got the licence number for the car – rental.”
What a surprise. “Will they be able to find out who hired the car?”
“I should think so, but not until Monday.”
Since the strange wolves had dared to frighten Charly, Rafe wouldn’t have wanted to wait even that long. But they would get the bastards eventually, and in the meantime he would keep her safe. However, with humans getting their guns out, it would be a challenge, unless he took up his earlier notion and locked her up. The thought held some potential. Then he smiled to himself as he imagined how well it would go down with Charly.
To prove to himself that he was not overprotective or possessive of a human woman he had no intention of keeping, Rafe didn’t say anything when Matt suggested he show Charly around the house after lunch. He stayed to have a chat with Jamie who had arrived in the breakfast room too. But when Nate and Ken showed signs of joining their tour, he put an end to it, sending the insolent whelps outside to help assemble tables for the banquet in the park.
Jamie waited until the room was empty before speaking. “So, she’s the one then?” A smile quirked his mouth.
Rafe growled, aggravated. “I don’t want her to be.”
His outburst genuinely baffled Jamie. “Why not? She’s amazing. Beautiful, intelligent, and strong. She’d make a wonderful spouse for you.”
Of all people, Rafe would have thought Jamie understood him. “She’s human.”
“So? Your wolf doesn’t seem to care.”
It most definitely didn’t. It hadn’t put out the call yet, but only because Rafe had managed to prevent it. “She’ll die.”
Jamie gave him an admonishing look. “We all die eventually. You can’t stop living because of that.” Then he relented a little and leaned towards Rafe to emphasise his words. “And you cannot base your decisions on my life either.
Yes, my wolf chose a human who wouldn’t stay, but that doesn’t mean it was a wrong choice. If I hadn’t married her, I wouldn’t have Harry now. You two can have children too, and they’ll be there for you after she’s gone.”
Rafe hadn’t come to think of that. He wanted children, and suddenly he knew with clarity that he wanted them with Charly. His heart started beating faster for the mere thought. Perhaps having a human spouse wouldn’t be such a disaster after all.
“But what if she doesn’t like living with wolves?”
Jamie shrugged. “Who says you have to live here? She’s a city girl and might be happier living in London, so you could live there just as well. But she seemed to be getting along with our boys just fine.”
His fears put in perspective by Jamie, Rafe’s heart eased. He stopped struggling with his wolf and they were finally of one mind. They would make Charly theirs. “I’ll talk to her after the feast. It’ll give her a chance to experience that side of shifter life first.”
Jamie nodded. “You do that. And may I say, brother, I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. But she’s a stubborn woman. She might not want me after all.” The thought felt like a knife through his heart now that he had made up his mind. If he couldn’t have her, his life wouldn’t be worth living.
Charlotte found her tour with Matt both informative and interesting. The house was beautiful and he had anecdotes to share about every room; it made the place seem more alive, and shed light on shifter life too. Most of his stories were about Raphael and gave her a charming picture of the boy he had been, mischievous and a bit wilful, but above all, strong.
Matt began yet another anecdote, and she paused in her study of old portraits depicting clan members from past centuries. “This here window was once broken when Rafe and Jamie got into a wrestling match. Rafe had just learned to shift and he was full of himself, like a future alpha should be. Jamie’s a century older, but he wasn’t above teaching the cub a lesson. He won, of course, when Rafe crashed through the window. He would have fallen if Jamie hadn’t been fast enough to grab his arm.”
The Wolf's Call (Two-Natured London) Page 9