Читать книгу The Shadow Wolf - Bonnie Vanak - Страница 8

A monster stalked her dreams, a snarling beast on two legs with red eyes and fur dark as midnight. “Trust me, Megan,” it grated out as blood dripped from its sharp fangs. “I won’t hurt you.” But she was terrified because she knew it would drag her back to the island prison and laugh as it raked its claws across her cold skin so she would die slowly in agony.

Megan awoke with a small cry. Just a dream. It’s just the same dream you’ve had for years. Snap out of it.

Someone wanted her dead. The threat lingered in the air like wood smoke. A dark-haired, handsome stranger with eyes that flashed amber; a walking, talking epicenter of lethal grace.

Gabriel Robichaux.

Cringing, she took a deep breath, expecting to be tied to a cold steel table, a metal tray of sharp instruments nearby.

But the surface beneath her was soft. Megan lifted her legs. No restraints. She was lying on a bed facing a bank of windows overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. Fingers of crisp white clouds streaked the sharp blue sky.

No purple tunic and matching pants, either.

Delicious smells of frying bacon came from downstairs. It enticed and cajoled. Food, she needed food, her head ached from hunger, the hollow pit in her stomach demanded energy.

She looked around. The cheerful powder-blue-and-lilac bedroom had a white bamboo dresser, glass-topped table and two chairs with floral prints. Megan touched her head, trying to get her thoughts squared.

“You never ate your breakfast, so I fried eggs. I advise you not to skip another meal or you’ll fade into nothing, and not just because you’re a Shadow Wolf,” came a deep, laconic voice from the doorway.

Tensing, she sat up, fists ready to strike. Now she remembered. Gabriel had hypnotized her into sleeping. Panic squeezed her insides.

“Where are they?” she demanded.

He leaned against the doorjamb, thumbs hooked through the belt loops of faded jeans. Rolled up at the sleeves, a blue chambray work shirt displayed his strong, tanned forearms. His feet were bare. A black cowboy hat tilted over his brow. “On the table, getting cold.” In his deep Louisiana drawl, “table” was pronounced “tay-bull.”

She threw back the thick duvet, swung her legs over the bed’s side. Her feet touched soft carpeting. For a moment, she wriggled her toes, basking in the luxury. Megan struggled to fight the dizziness. “My cousins. What did you do with them, you bastard?”

“They’re fine.”

“If you hurt them, I’ll …” The threat was empty, and they both knew it.

“Is this part of your torture technique? Keep us separated, make me think the worst? Why not just kill us and get it over with?”

A frown dented his forehead. “I don’t torture Shadows,” he said mildly.

“Cousin Megan!” Two miniature tornadoes flew into the room and bounded on the bed. They crashed against her.

Hiding a wince at her sore arms, she held them tight. “Are you okay?” She smoothed back their hair, studied their expressions.

“Gabriel made us bacon and eggs and sausage,” Jenny said, glancing shyly at him.

“And toast with orange marmalade.” Jilly burped. “‘Cuse me.”

Gabriel made a sound suspiciously like a chuckle, but looked indifferent. Masking her anxiety, Megan smiled at the girls. They wore identical pairs of bright pink shorts and pink scoop-necked shirts. On their feet were new cuffed socks and sneakers.

Megan touched a corner of Jenny’s shirt. “Where did you get these?”

“Gabriel had his housekeeper buy these for us. No more purple uniforms,” Jenny told her.

“Gabriel took us here to his island to keep us safe,” Jilly told her.

Megan tightened her grip on her niece. How could she tell her that Gabriel had abducted them? In some ways, her young nieces were still innocent, despite the island’s harsh living conditions. She didn’t want to scare them.

Instead, she gave a reassuring smile and changed the subject. “Did you get outside and see the Gulf of Mexico?”

If the girls had explored the island, she could figure out how to access the mainland and formulate an escape plan.

“Gabriel took us to the beach and we found some seashells by the water, but he didn’t want us to go far,” Jenny piped up.

She hid her disappointment.

“I wanted to check on Megan. We can go out later, Jenny,” Gabriel said.

Jenny beamed. Megan studied her enemy, shocked he had discerned the difference between the girls. Few could tell them apart.

She had to regain her strength. Somehow, there was a way off this island, and she would find it. Megan braced her hands on the bed. Going to do this, must do this. She managed to stand, but her knees gave way. With an involuntary cry, she fell back onto the bed. Oh this was bad, so very bad.

Eyes wide with fright, the twins stared. “Cousin Megan?” Jilly’s voice trembled.

Gabriel detached himself from the doorway. He flashed a winsome smile at the girls. “Jenny, Jillian, why don’t you go into the playroom while I have a little chat with your cousin?”

Dread pooled in her chest as the girls scrambled away.

He gave her a critical once-over. “When did you last eat?”

Her stomach growled a protest. “I’m fine.”

“You’re weak and dangerously low on energy,” he countered, his gaze sweeping over her. “Where were you hiding out?”

“Rio. You know, de Janeiro in Brazil. I had a hankering for a mojito,” she shot back.

He rubbed his temple. “Tell me.”

The command was soft, threaded with steel. She felt compelled to obey. “Couldn’t get here right away, had to diffuse the trail. Spent three days in the Bahamas first … lived off fish, the girls did … I gave them my share, couldn’t catch much, had to lie low. Hitched a ride with a fisherman headed to Florida.”

“Then how did you use up all your energy?”

Gabriel was a mind manipulator, able to coax hidden thoughts from reluctant victims. Horrified at how easily she’d confessed, she mustered her strength and bolted for the door. He hooked her around the waist. “Easy,” he muttered. “Relax, chère, I’m not going to hurt you. But I will have answers.”

Megan sagged in his arms. Her trembling hands couldn’t grasp the doorknob. Pain throbbed from the rail spike hammering into her skull. Oh, the hunger was bad now, so bad, the craving for protein screaming its need.

Gabriel helped her sit on the bed. He picked up the cordless phone on the nightstand and dialed. He gave a crisp order for bacon, sausage and eggs and hung up, giving Megan a thoughtful look.

“Food first, then a hot shower. I’ll ask Mrs. Hemmings to find clothing that fits.” His heated gaze swept over her again, making her shiver. “You’re a size twelve, right?”

Outraged, she glared. “I’m a size eight.”

A smile tugged the corners of his mouth. He’d tricked her. Again.

“How the hell did you let yourself get this bad?” he demanded. “Didn’t you make plans, have supplies?”

Megan looked out the window.

“The truth, Megan. Why haven’t you eaten?”

With all her might, she shuttered her thoughts. Instead of invading her mind, Gabriel ran a thumb across her palm. The electrical contact sizzled, creating a shiver of erotic awareness. Megan stared at his strong, tanned fingers. He turned over her hand, frowned at the reddened scratches on the back.

“You got jumped. Someone stole your money,” he guessed.

“The fisherman smuggling us off Shadow Wolf island demanded more money than we’d planned.” Megan yanked her hand away.

“You’re a Shadow. Why didn’t you just steal money when you got to the States?”

“I’m no thief.”

“Then I suppose the car with your scent all over it is a rental?” he drawled.

Color ignited her cheeks. “I put an envelope filled with money and a note in the door of the owner’s home. It’s worth more than the price of the Ford, which has leaky oil gaskets, bald tires and finicky brakes. I might be a Shadow—” she spit out the word “—but we have integrity. Unlike you Normals, who turn in your own people for money. Because we are Draicon, like you. Like it or not, that’s a fact.”

“Normals?”

“Stop acting as if you have no idea what I’m talking about. Normals. What you ordinary Draicon call yourself, what you insist we call you. You think you’re normal and we’re not just because we can perform magick before puberty, unlike you, and we can shift and become invisible, unlike you.”

She gave him a pointed look. “With our gifts, I’d say we’re superior to Normals. Except I’m not racist. Unlike you.”

Amber glowed in his eyes. His wolf was emerging. As he raised his hand, Megan braced herself for the slap. Instead, he dropped his hand to her forehead, ran a thumb over the bruise.

“Some of us are anything but normal,” he muttered.

A brisk knock at the door announced the arrival of a cheerful, rounded woman bearing a wood tray. On the tray was a large china plate piled with food, silverware, a napkin and a tall glass of orange juice. Megan nearly moaned at the savory smells of bacon, sausage and fried eggs. The woman set down the tray on the nightstand, accepted Gabriel’s thanks and left.

Megan picked up the fork. Plastic, she noticed ruefully. Not much use as a weapon. This Draicon wasn’t a fool. She poked at the eggs.

“It’s not poisoned.”

His voice, close to her ear, made her jump. Megan speared a sausage, turned it over. “Sure, right.”

“If I wanted to drug you, chère, I’d merely put you to sleep with a mind suggestion, like I did back at the restaurant.” Amusement laced his tone. His gaze grew stern. “Now eat.”

Her hands shook so much she could barely bring the fork to her mouth. Eggs spilled onto the tray. Embarrassed, she shuffled the food around the plate. Gabriel paced over to the window and stood before it. Megan quickly ate, then wiped her mouth with a paper napkin. She drank the orange juice, feeling the throbbing hunger ease.

“Thanks for the food,” she managed to say.

Gabriel turned around. Shafts of yellow sunlight angled into the room, falling on him like a spotlight. Breath caught in her lungs. Denim jealously hugged every inch of his hard, muscled legs. He was gorgeous, with the face of a fallen angel, secrets lurking in those swamp-dark eyes. The sheer sexuality felt like a blast of heat in the air-conditioned room.

She wondered what it would feel like to run her hands over his firm muscles, splay her fingers on that hard chest, feeling his heart race with the same anticipation she felt.

He’s a cold, soulless killer, she sternly reminded herself. Megan drew in a breath, inhaling a spicy, rich aroma, like expensive men’s cologne. Instinct told her it was his own natural scent. Damn, he smelled good.

His knowing smile warned he knew she’d checked him out. Megan squashed her irritation.

“Can I take a shower alone, or are you playing guard dog outside the bathroom, too?”

“Through there is the main guest bath.” He pointed at a closed door. “Need help getting undressed?”

“I can manage.”

“I can wash your back,” he offered in a deep, laconic drawl.

Shivers raced through her. Megan envisioned herself in the shower, Gabriel running the soap down her back, gently caressing her slippery skin with his big hands, cupping her hips, pulling her against his naked body….

Not in this lifetime. “I always watch my own back,” she muttered.

“Watch or wash?” he asked softly.

“Both. Because I never know when someone’s going to stick a knife in it.”

His gaze grew thoughtful. “I’ll get the clothing for you. There are fresh towels and everything else you need in the bathroom.”

When she didn’t move, Gabriel sighed. “Come on, I’ll help you.”

As he grabbed her upper arm, Megan flinched. His gaze narrowed as she went to her feet.

“Take off your shirt,” he ordered.

A violent trembling seized her. This was it, then. After all she’d gone through, constantly moving to avoid the sexual threats, keeping herself pure because she had vowed never to give herself to a man unless it was done with love, it came down to this.

“Do you always molest your captives?” she bit out.

He was far stronger and bigger, but she’d go down kicking and screaming. And biting.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, more gently this time. “Take off your shirt.”

Color flooded her cheeks. She struggled to lift the threadbare green polo shirt over her head. He helped.

In her faded bra, she hugged herself, feeling cold and exposed and vulnerable. But anger, not lust, glinted his dark eyes. His mouth compressed to a thin slash as he traced one of the purpling bruises on her arms.

“Who did this?”

“I fell down the stairs.”

“Megan, who hit you?”

Rather than have him yank it from her mind, she settled for the truth. “The fisherman on the boat that smuggled us to the Bahamas. Said he’d heard Shadow females were incredible in bed, and he planned to find out. He beat me and threatened to hit the girls unless I cooperated.”

Gabriel’s breath eased out in a violent hiss.

“I made a deal with him. Said sex was better when Shadows weren’t in physical form. If he could catch me while I was in shadow, I was all his. He liked the chase.”

“That’s why you were low on energy. You were invisible the entire trip to the Bahamas.”

“I escaped at a cost. I thought I could make up for it by catching fish when we landed at the Bahamas, but the fishing was lousy and the girls were hungry. In addition to trying to molest me, the fisherman fed us only scraps.”

“You haven’t eaten properly for five days. Damn,” he muttered.

Suddenly she felt drained beyond words. “Is show and tell over with now? Can I get dressed?”

Gabriel didn’t say anything. He continued tracing the ugly bruises on her arms. His touch was gentle and oddly soothing, as if he wanted to erase her pain.

“What’s his name?” His gaze was hard, but his voice was as soft as his touch.

She saw no reason to protect the man, since he was taking advantage of helpless Shadows. “He calls himself Devin Andrews, but we know him as Grouper. He likes deep-sea fishing, and uses that as his cover. His boat name, too.”

“Good.” He jerked his hand away, as if touching her scorched him. Gabriel turned his back. “Take your shower, and after, I have liniment for those bruises to help them heal faster. You’re still too weak for your body to effectively heal itself.”

“Is this your modus operandi?”

A half smile touched his full mouth as he glanced at her over his shoulder. “My what?”

“Being solicitous toward your victims before you kill them and collect the bounty on their heads.”

Gabriel’s expression softened. “I won’t hurt you, chère.”

Right. She wouldn’t gamble on that.

“I do have a few rules. Just as I told the twins. Any problems or concerns, you bring them directly to me. You can’t escape this island, so forget trying. You will eat and you will maintain your energy. No one will hurt you here, you’re perfectly safe. But you aren’t leaving.”

Feeling his gaze burn into her back, Megan opened the door and walked into the bathroom. She closed the door firmly and found a fluffy white robe hanging on a peg behind it. She carefully shrugged into it.

The bathroom was larger than her bedroom at home, and the opulence made her feel shabby in comparison. Lilac rugs scattered over gleaming white marble floors. Wrinkling her nose at the color, she sidestepped them. In the corner was a glass shower with a window overlooking the beach.

Curious, she pulled open a cabinet drawer. Inside was an assortment of child’s bath toys, including a well-worn rubber duck. A reluctant smile touched her face as she took out the duck and closed the drawer. Gabriel’s guests included children. Nieces and nephews?

What was it like to be indulged, spoiled and pampered by a male as powerful as Gabriel? To have everything you wanted to eat, pretty dresses to wear and all the knowledge at the tip of your fingers instead of having to hide books and wear ugly dark grape clothing? Her smile faded as she dropped the duck by a stack of towels on the counter. She grabbed a washcloth and soap, stared in bemusement at the twin shower heads and the strange fixtures.

Torn between pride and longing, she set down the washcloth and soap and returned to the bedroom.

Gabriel sat on her bed, touching her pillow with a thoughtful look. His cowboy hat was on the nightstand. He glanced up.

“I don’t, the shower, the faucets …” Her voiced trailed off and she felt very stupid.

A wide grin tugged his full mouth upward. “Oh yeah. I got confused the first time the plumber installed the new fixtures. Shoulda heard me yell when I got cold water instead of hot.”

He sprang off the bed, all grace and smoothness. Inside the shower, he worked the faucets, careful to step out of the way as he demonstrated the spray.

Gabriel stepped outside the shower. Megan gave him the first real smile she’d felt in days.

“Thanks. I thought I might need an engineering degree just to take a shower.”

He tipped back his head and gave a deep, throaty laugh. Her heart skipped at the delight-ful sound. Surely anyone who laughed like that couldn’t be as evil as they said.

“I like how you laugh. You’re not what I thought.”

Startled, she realized she’d spoken aloud. Gabriel stopped laughing. Megan shivered again, but this time from a deeper, more intense need.

A predatory look crossed his face. When he grasped her shoulders in the gentlest touch, she felt drawn toward him. His gaze fell on her mouth. Amber flashed in his eyes as she moistened her lips and parted them. Megan took a step forward, captivated by the smoldering hunger in his gaze. Her body yearned, her hands reached out to touch him in turn. She could almost feel his lips against hers, warm, authoritative, demanding….

Just as quickly, he stepped back, dropped his arms. “Go take that shower, and I’ll find the clothing and liniment.”

The door slammed behind him with a violence that shook the hinges.

After her shower, Megan used the liniment Gabriel had left, dressed in the clothing he’d put on the bed and began planning her escape.

She slipped down the hallway and paused before a large, masculine bedroom at the corridor’s end. Drawn by the rich spicy scent that was Gabriel’s, she walked inside.

The bed was large as a car, with a crimson duvet and a hand-carved mahogany headboard. She shivered, imagining his big body on it, sweat gleaming on his brow, dampening his dark hair, his long legs twisted in the sheets after a hot bout of lovemaking….

Stop it.

The windows boasted splendid beachfront views. Coconut palms, their green leaves swaying in a gathering breeze, framed shimmering sand and tranquil Gulf waters. French doors opened to a wraparound balcony. Megan went outside.

The mainland seemed close enough to swim for it. But what about the twins?

On the bayside, a fishing boat, a sleek yacht and a rowboat were moored to the dock. Powering the fishing boat or the yacht meant noise. However, if she had Jenny create a distraction, they could use the rowboat. She disliked asking her cousin to use powers she had been taught to curb, but it was necessary if they were to escape.

A few hundred yards from the dock was a single-lane causeway and a bridge connecting it to the mainland. Megan spotted an outboard boat near the bridge. The boater started the engine, heading in her direction. Sweat gathered on her brow as he passed the house.

A man with silver hair. It was too far away to be sure, but she’d swear it was the same man from the hotel restaurant.

What did he want? Why was he following them? Was he a rescuer? Or like Gabriel, another enemy who desired the healthy bounty on their heads?

Gabriel should know. Megan’s pulse sped up. She couldn’t risk telling him, the enemy she couldn’t trust. What if he were working with the silver-haired man?

The only person she could trust was herself. The twins relied on her. She had to get them off the island.

Megan found the twins in a large, airy room, playing dolls before a wood dollhouse. Her heart twisted. She hated having them on the run again.

Better running than dead. Because that’s what Gabriel would do. He might be all smooth Cajun cowboy charm on the outside, but he was nastier than the other Normals. Gabriel would soothe them into thinking all was well, and then …

Megan shuddered. She motioned to the girls, who reluctantly abandoned the toys.

“We’re leaving soon. When we do, just stick close to me, okay?”

Jenny looked upset. “But I like it here. Gabriel’s nice. He promised to make us a nice dinner and we can each have a doll of our own. He wouldn’t hurt us. He’s …”

Squatting down, she took her cousin’s small, trusting hand into hers. “Honey, we have to get you to New Orleans, remember?”

Jenny brightened. Both twins had asked Megan why they were headed to New Orleans until she told them about hoping to find a relative there. More information was needed before telling them the relative was their father. The girls must not have their hopes raised and crushed. They’d already endured too much on the island.

Megan dreamed of finding their father, a man who would smother them with love and protection and send them to school, instead of learning with smuggled books. In the city, she’d blend and find others like her. Together they’d work to free all Shadows from captivity so future generations wouldn’t fear imprisonment again.

Megan went downstairs into the living room. Arched windows looked out onto the green Gulf of Mexico. White cypress walls gave the living room an airy feel that flowed onto the beach. The furniture was durable, but expensive.

Megan peered into the kitchen. The housekeeper was cleaning the counter, her car keys out on the table.

She ran upstairs to join the twins. When the housekeeper popped her head in the doorway and announced she was leaving, Megan felt a rush of relief.

“I just wanted to see if you needed anything,” Mrs. Hemmings said.

“We’re fine. Thank you for the lovely meal.”

“That was Mr. Gabriel who did the cooking.” The woman studied her so intently, Megan felt like an animal in a zoo.

“You take good care of yourself, honey. Things will be fine from now on. You’re safe here. Mr. Gabriel, he’s a good man. You can trust him.”

The woman could not know the delicate intricacies of their world. Regret filled Megan. She wanted badly to trust someone. Too much was at stake to risk it.

When the housekeeper left, Megan retrieved their backpacks and returned to the girls.

They were leaving. Right now.