by Nina Croft
There must be a way around these feelings for Regan. If it was some sort of mating bond, there had to be a way to cancel it before it was irrevocable. He didn’t want to be mated, certainly not to a stroppy witch who was two thousand years older than he was and would no doubt rub his nose in it every chance she could get.
“Don’t know or just not telling?” she asked now.
He shrugged again. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever you believe, you are vulnerable to Ethan, and I don’t want you anywhere near him. My father is evil.”
“I could make him talk.”
“Maybe, but it’s not going to happen.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes. Caleb was trying to think through this, but the answer remained elusive. “Maybe if we knew what they wanted you for, we could work it out. Any ideas? What is it witches do, anyway? Apart from love potions, that is.”
“We open the gates between the worlds.”
What the hell did that even mean? “I have no clue what that means. Or why you would do it.” Or what other worlds existed. Or a thousand other questions. He really had never understood the extent of his own ignorance.
“We guide the souls of the dead from this world to the Shadowlands and then beyond. We also have the power to open other gates. We could open the gates to Hell if we wished.”
Yeah, right. He’d think about that later. “Anything else?”
“We have power over the sun and moon. We can extinguish the light and turn the world to darkness forever.”
A deep sense of foreboding washed through him at her words. She was telling the truth—he could hear it in her voice—and the idea of so much power made his stomach roil. And she wasn’t finished yet.
“We could probably stop the world turning if we so desired.”
How could she have lived with such power for so long? How did she not collapse under the weight of responsibility?
Then she smiled. “We can also do tricks.”
“Tricks?”
She whispered a word and her jeans and shirt were gone, and she was sitting before him in a black lace gown that clung to the long lean lines of her body, molded her full breasts so her dark-red nipples peeked through. It was split up the side, one slender leg bared to the thigh, and she wore four-inch stilettos on her feet.
“Caleb,” she murmured huskily, and his gaze shot to her face.
Holding his gaze, she stretched sinuously, raising her arms and leaning her head back, so her red hair hung down behind her and her breasts lifted, thrusting toward him.
The blood rushed to his groin, and the heat coiled low in his belly. He wanted nothing more than to leap on her, but he was held in place by some unseen force. Or maybe it was shock. He didn’t know. His brain had ceased to function.
She rose slowly to her feet and stalked around the desk toward him. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and probably the deadliest. His brain wanted to concentrate on that; his cock didn’t care. It throbbed inside his pants, and he shifted to ease the pressure.
Reaching toward him, she trailed one scarlet-tipped finger down over his chest. It hovered over his groin, and he held his breath, fighting the instinctive urge to thrust his hips upward.
She ran her tongue over her lower lip so it glistened with moisture, and his brain immediately filled with a vision of her kneeling before him, taking him between those succulent lips. He gritted his teeth.
“Jesus,” he muttered.
She laughed softly. Then the black gown was gone and she was back in her jeans. “Worthless tricks, glamours for show,” she said, stepping back and sinking into her seat.
He took a deep breath, willing his body under control.
“And that’s it?” His voice was hoarse, but he was impressed he could speak at all.
“Well, we sometimes get visions of the future, but that’s more Gina and Catrin’s thing than mine.”
A pulse thumped in his head, matching time with the one that pounded in his groin. He needed to be alone to try to ease some of the painful pressure in his cock.
“So,” he said, “I’ve told you what I know. It’s probably time for you to leave.”
She shook her head. “You’ve told me nothing I didn’t already know, and I’m not going anywhere until you tell me how to find your father.”
He sat back in his chair and sighed. “Then I guess you’re not going anywhere.”
***
Regan felt almost sorry for him.
No, she did feel sorry for him. She also felt sorry for herself. Her whole body throbbed, her sex swollen with need, and if she closed her eyes, she had an instant flashback to the way his body had filled hers that morning they had made love in the forest.
She knew she could have him. When she’d used the glamour, he could have been hers for the taking—she’d sensed his desperate need. But her whole being rejected the idea of using magic for her own ends. It went against everything she believed in.
On top of that, she was pissed off with him.
Caleb could help her if he wanted to. He was just being stubborn, denying he was a part of all this. She needed to find a way to make him cooperate. She picked up her coffee, drained the cup, and slammed it on the desk between them. “You need to accept what you are.”
His eyes narrowed. “You don’t know what I am.”
“And neither do you, apparently.”
A look of resignation settled on his face. “Catrin told you?”
“Yes. You say you’ve always believed you were half human; well, not any longer.”
“What did she tell you?” He had to admit he was curious. And shit-scared.
“She said you didn’t know what you were, and you weren’t interested in finding out.”
He pursed his lips. “I met your brother-in-law.”
“That must have been fun.”
“He offered to drink my blood.”
She raised a brow. “Kinky.”
“Not according to him. He said he could taste what I was. I declined the offer.”
“Instead, you’ll carry on pretending you’re human?” She gazed blankly out of the window behind him, fighting her anger. Then she sighed, and the tension drained from her. “Well, whatever you are, for now we’re stuck with each other.”
He nodded, looking no happier with the situation. “So did you learn anything useful from this Council?”
“No. There was no one there to talk to, but I’m going back later. Catrin told me that Darius is going to look into what you might be—should be interesting.”
“Why would he do that? It’s none of his goddamn business.”
“Duh—your father is involved in a conspiracy to take over the world. I think that makes you the Council’s business.”
“Darius works for the Council?”
“Hmm, didn’t I mention that? And it’s run by his son-in-law.”
“He has a daughter? I thought he and Gina were newlyweds.”
“It’s a long story. The son-in-law is a shapeshifter.”
“Is that like a werewolf?”
She grinned. “No, and don’t let Kael hear you suggesting such a thing. The Council apparently looks on werewolves as animals.”
“What does that make you?”
“A temporary animal.”
She didn’t add that Kael had very good reason to hate her, as did his wife, Gina’s daughter. Raven had spent years of her life imprisoned in the dungeons of the fire-demons, and a lot of people considered that to be Regan’s fault. She never bothered to deny it. What was the point? Besides, she didn’t care what people thought of her. She never had.
But that wasn’t the only bad blood between her and the Council. Kael had hated her long before that. And all because she’d helped save his life once a thousand years ago. She wasn’t going to explain that either. Let them hate her.
“What’s the matter?” Caleb asked.
She glanced up to find him watching her. She shrugged. “Nothing.”
Caleb rose to his feet and stood, hands thrust into his pockets, aggression in every line of his body. “Darius has no right to investigate me.”
She frowned. “I can’t believe you don’t want to know. Aren’t you just a little bit curious?”
His expression was hard but beyond that she could sense, or rather wolf could sense, his anxiety. Caleb was scared. Scared of what he would discover. That it would forever put an end to his hopes of a normal life. She had a strange urge to wrap her arms around him, hug him, tell him it didn’t matter. That she liked him whatever he was.
Instead, she studied him closely, attempting to gauge what he could be. He certainly looked human, so whoever his mother was she must have appeared normal.
Who did Ethan Stone find to bear him a son, and how did she manage to carry the baby to term? She must have used some form of magic, so one of the magic races.
“I’m coming with you,” he said.
“What? Why? I thought you weren’t interested in knowing.”
“I never said that. And I don’t want you people discussing me behind my back.”
“You people? Don’t tie me in with the Council. Anyway, I’m not sure they’ll let you in. I don’t think they allow dogs in the building.”
“Ha ha. I’m coming.”
“Hmm, I suppose I could put you on a leash.”
“You could try.”
She shrugged. “Come along if you like, but perhaps you should have a cold shower first”—she allowed her gaze to trail down the front of his body—“to get rid of that bulge in your pants?”
His eyes narrowed, he opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment, the phone on his desk rang. He picked it up and listened, his eyes flicking to her, a frown forming on his face.
“Okay, send him in.” He put the phone down and turned back to Regan. “I’m sorry,” he said pleasantly. “I have some business to sort out first, but perhaps we can arrange to meet later.” He came around to stand beside her chair, she could almost see him twitching with the need to pull her to her feet and shove her out the door.
Something was definitely up. He wanted her out of there. Which of course made her want to stay. She sat back in her chair and rested her booted feet on the desk in front of her. “Actually, there’s no rush,” she said. “I think I’ll stick around.”
His eyes narrowed. “It’s a business meeting.”
“I’ll sit in the corner and be very quiet.”
He jammed his hands into his pockets, his whole body radiating frustration. Then he closed his eyes, and the tension drained away. When he looked at her again his lips turned up in the semblance of a smile, and she knew he was going to try to appeal to her better nature—how strange.
“Look,” he said, his tone conciliatory. “It’s one of my father’s men on his way up. He needs to speak with me, but he’s very shy, and he won’t talk in front of outsiders.”
Her smile was equally sincere. “You’re forgetting something.”
“I am?”
“I’m not exactly an outsider. I am, in fact, a werewolf.” She bared her teeth to prove the point.
Regan could almost hear the grinding of his teeth. Then he threw up his hands in an admission of defeat. “Stay then. You know, my life used to be simple.” His eyes narrowed on her. “Why the hell didn’t I just drive away that night?”
A knock sounded at the door and she grinned, then swung her legs down off the desk. “I’ll go sit in the corner then, shall I?”
Chapter Twelve
Caleb watched as she crossed the room and sat on one of the leather sofas. He took the seat behind his desk and pressed the button that would open the door.
Tom looked tired. Like all the wolves, he didn’t age, but lines of strain bracketed his face. He glanced across at Regan, his eyes widening in recognition, but he said nothing, just took the seat opposite Caleb.
Not all Caleb’s childhood had been bad, and many of the good bits were because of Tom. He’d taken him camping, taught him to fish, tended his wounds after…
Caleb shut the thought down. What was the point in rehashing the past?
“What is it, Tom?”
Tom answered with a question of his own. “How did it go with your father yesterday?”
“How does it ever go? We piss each other off and agree to go our separate ways.”
“Do you think he’s changed?”
Caleb frowned at the question. “I don’t see him often enough to tell, but he seemed his normal megalomaniac self. Why?”
“You know, he wasn’t always like that. He was a good leader once, before he became obsessed with gaining power.” He paused and looked at Caleb. “And with the idea of having a son to follow him.”
A wave of bitterness washed through Caleb. “So now this is my fault?”
“Not your fault, no. But you could have a lot of influence on him if you wanted.”
Caleb laughed, but the sound held not even a hint of amusement. “Why would I want that? I walked out when I was sixteen with no intention of ever going back, and nothing has happened since to change my mind.”
He stood up and walked to the window, staring out, unseeing.
“What if your father was no longer around?” Tom asked quietly.
At the question, Caleb swung back to face him. “What do you mean?”
Tom licked his lips and his gaze shifted back toward Regan.
“You can talk in front of her,” Caleb said.
Tom looked unsure, but then nodded. “There are some of us in the pack who would like to see Ethan no longer leader.”
Caleb stared at him. The only way to depose the alpha male from the pack was to kill him. Were they really thinking about killing Ethan? He searched his mind for a reaction, but it remained blank.
“Good luck,” he said. “I won’t stand in your way.”
“We’d like you to consider coming back as pack leader.”
Shock flared in his mind at the words. “Why the hell would you want that?” he asked. “I’ve had nothing to do with the pack for over twenty years, and besides—”
“And besides,” Tom finished for him, “you hate us all.”
Caleb sighed and ran a hand through his hair, then pressed his fingers to his temples. Tom spoke quickly into the silence. “There’s no one left in the pack strong enough to rule. No alphas. Ethan has seen to that. He’s killed any wolf that’s come even close. We need you, Caleb.”
Anger flashed through him then. They needed him? What about when he had needed them? Had anyone been willing to stand up to Ethan back then? Now they expected him to come back and sort out their problems.
“But thankfully, I don’t need you. Not any longer.”
A weary expression of acceptance passed across Tom’s face. “I told them that would be your answer, and I don’t really blame you, but I said I’d try.” He shook his head. “You have to let go of the bitterness, Caleb. You can pretend you’re human all you like, but you’re not, and one day you’ll wake up and realize that. Just don’t leave it too late.”
“I’m as much human as I am wolf.” But even as he said the words, he realized they were no longer true.
Tom snorted. “You’re more wolf than anyone I’ve ever met. Why do you think the pack is willing to follow you?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I won’t say any more, I can see it’s pointless. But one thing—will you consider helping Sarah get away?”
Caleb frowned. “Why?”
“I believe Ethan is losing his sanity, and I think she could get hurt.”
“Ethan would never harm his mate, and Sarah would never leave him.”
“She would if you offered to help.”
“I can’t do that. If she wants to leave Ethan, then she’s going to have to stand up to him.”
Tom shook his head. “You’ve grown into a hard man, Caleb.”
“I’m what my father made me. What you all made me.”
Tom sighed. “You’re right. We all let you down. Maybe—” he p
inched the bridge of his nose. “Never mind—it’s too late to change the past now.” He rose to his feet. “I promised I’d try, and I’ve done that. I hope everything works out for you and you get the life you wish.”
He nodded once to Regan and trudged from the room.
As the door shut behind him, Caleb slammed his fist into the wall. Why the hell was he feeling guilty?
“Well, that was fascinating,” Regan murmured.
He turned to face her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
She looked into his eyes for a brief moment and must have seen something there because she shrugged. “Okay. Let’s go see the Council then.”
He’d forgotten all about the Council, but perhaps that’s what he needed. A meeting with a whole load of people even weirder than he was.
***
Poor Caleb, it seemed as if the supernatural world was unwilling to let him go.
Clearly, the pack weren’t happy with Ethan and wanted Caleb to take over. Regan wasn’t surprised. She’d seen Caleb as both human and wolf, and in either form, he was formidable. He’d refused the offer, but despite his words, it was obviously not a decision he made easily. Now, she watched as he turned away from her and took off his suit jacket, tossing it onto the back of his chair. Crossing the room, he opened a cabinet and pulled out a shoulder holster, shrugged into it, and then slotted in a wicked looking pistol. He came back and picked up his jacket, slipping it on over the top.
“Ready?” he asked.
She raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think you’re going to have to shoot anyone.”
“You never know.”
“You’re nervous.”
“No, I’m not. I’m just taking sensible precautions. So where are we going?”
She pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her back pocket and handed it to him. He glanced down at it. “This is just around the corner.”
“Well, isn’t that amazing? All the time you’ve been almost right on top of the very things you’ve been trying to avoid. So how do we go there?”
