Читать книгу The Unforgettable Wolf - Jane Godman - Страница 11

Chapter 3

She was conscious of so many things as they approached the house where the party was taking place. How much her head hurt. The cold flesh of her legs. How her bare feet were scratched and muddy. She wore Nate’s sweatshirt with nothing underneath it. If it wasn’t for his strong arm around her waist holding her up, she’d have fallen several times.

Oh, and this man she was trusting? He’d killed a werewolf back there in the depths of the forest. Sliced its head right off and buried the human remains like it was part of his everyday routine. And she had stood by and watched. Not the decapitation, but the aftermath. As if what he did was normal. I might not know who I am, but part of me feels I should not be okay with this. Yet she was wrapped in a surreal bubble where everything else was gauzy and his protective presence was all that mattered.

Although she couldn’t see Nate clearly in the darkness, she got the impression of power and energy. The moonlight gave her glimpses of strong features and dark coloring. Those things meant he was an attractive man, but they didn’t explain the instantaneous connection she felt to him. He rescued you from a wolf. Of course that meant there was a connection. But it was more than that. It had been a bright, instant flame, sizzling the air between them. And it showed no sign of subsiding.

Overriding everything else was a hazy sense of something she could barely describe. Of not belonging. Of being in the wrong place, wrong time, wrong everything. Her hurt head tried to tell her what it was. Or maybe her hurt head was the problem.

“I can’t just walk in there.” She indicated the sweatshirt that barely reached the top of her thighs. “What if they don’t know me?”

“Don’t worry. I’m going ahead of you.”

She wished she could get a proper look at him in the moonlight. Something flashed through her mind. Something about prospects. About what the word really meant. How having prospects wasn’t about power and wealth, it was about how well a man would take care of you. It was a fleeting thought, gone almost as soon as it appeared.

They were in the backyard of the house now, and she could see a few people nearby standing around drinking and talking. On the immediate edge of the yard, where it joined the forest, a group of three young men appeared to be attempting to restrain someone.

“Roko, wait here. This could be a trap.” The man spoke in an urgent tone.

“Too right it could.” The response was panicky, almost terrified. “You know what he’s capable of, Teo. He could have snatched her from under my nose.”

Nate moved forward. “Wait here.” He motioned her to step back into the shadows.

It was too late. The man called Roko had already caught sight of her. Breaking free of his friends, he started toward her. “Violet! What the fuck...?”

She frowned. Surely she would remember this man if she knew him. He was very handsome. As he reached her, Roko made a grab for her hands. She shrank away from him in alarm, moving instinctively toward Nate.

Nate positioned himself between them. “Who are you?”

Roko bristled. He scanned her face, his expression changing, becoming even more annoyed. “This is a joke, right? Tell this guy to butt out.”

As he spoke, something was happening inside the house. There were shouts, crashes and sounds of glass breaking. Looking up, she saw what looked like a dozen people erupting from the house into the yard. They appeared to be running from something.

Roko turned to his friends. “You said we’d be safe. You promised they wouldn’t find us here.”

As he spoke, he gave a signal to his friends. Kicking off their sneakers and shrugging out of their outer clothing, they shifted. Just like that. No big performance, no whisper of sound, no creaking of bones or sprouting of fur.

Within seconds, the young men were gone. In their place, a pack of sleek werewolves dropped to their haunches, shaking themselves free of the final remnants of clothing that had been shredded during their transformation. Baring huge fangs, they crouched low, preparing to face the group that had emerged from the house.

Nate pulled on her arm, drawing her back into the shadows where they could see what was going on, but not be seen themselves. Her instinct was to run from this scene, but she understood what he was doing. Roko—the man who had just shifted and become a werewolf—knew her. There were clues to her identity here.

The five werewolves who approached from the house dwarfed Roko and his friends. Huge and black, with eyes that glowed gold by the light of the moon, it was clear they meant business. The crowd that had followed them from the house was a combination of humans and werewolves, and the atmosphere thrummed with a cocktail of fear and anticipation as the two opposing packs lined up.

Crouching low, the black wolves rippled with muscle and menace. Vicious snarls rent the night. The space between the warring forces crackled with rage. Roko and his pack barely had time to answer back before the black werewolves sprang at them. The fury of the attack was so intense she felt its force even from her hiding place in the darkness. Instinct made her draw closer to Nate, and he placed a steadying arm around her shoulders.

In the golden glow of the garden lamps, blood sprayed and fur flew. It was clear from the start that Roko and his pack were hopelessly outclassed, but they fought bravely. The black wolves tore into them, ripping chunks of flesh from the smaller werewolves, forcing them onto their backs and into submission. It was clear this was an organized fighting force, used to working as a team, used to getting what it wanted.

Within the watching crowd, there were screams and shouts of outrage.

“Can’t we stop this?”

“Who are they?”

Even as some of the partygoing werewolves who had emerged from the house made a movement toward the fight, it was already over. The black wolves, having subdued Roko’s pack, were shifting back into human form. Five naked, muscle-bound men stood over the injured werewolves.

One of them addressed himself to the partygoers. “Apologies for any inconvenience. We won’t disturb you any longer.” Reaching down a giant hand, he grabbed Roko by the fur at the scruff of his neck and hauled him to his feet. “This is what we came for. He has something belonging to our master.”

Dragging Roko and the other wounded werewolves with them, the five men strode through the watching crowd and out through the front of the house.

* * *

“Violet...is that your name?”

Nate still had his arm around the woman, and he could feel the tremors that ran through her slender body. He wasn’t surprised. A brutal, bloody attack like the one they’d just witnessed was enough to leave anyone shaken. Following on from the earlier events of the evening, he was amazed to find she could still answer him coherently.

“It’s what he called me, so I guess it must be.”

“Wait here while I see if I can find out what that was all about.”

She slid her hand into his, those huge, trusting eyes fixed on his face. “Don’t leave me.”

Something lurched in the center of his chest. In a place where he hadn’t felt anything for a very long time. Six years, to be exact. He gave her a smile that he hoped was reassuring. “I’ll be two minutes.”

Reluctantly, she let go of his hand. An answering smile trembled on her lips. “I’m timing you.”

Nate strode out of the shadows. The party atmosphere was understandably subdued following the fight, and people were standing around discussing what had happened. He approached one group, slotting in as unobtrusively as he could.

“Who were those guys?” Nate turned to the man next to him.

“No one seems to know. Looks like they were gate-crashers who had a grudge against the other group, the ones they dragged away with them.”

“So no one knows who they were, either?”

Another man joined in the conversation. “Teo is a regular at these parties, but the others hadn’t been here before.”

“I heard Teo call one of his friends Roko,” Nate said.

“Name means nothing to me.”

“Me neither.” Both men shrugged.

Conscious of Violet—since that seemed to be her name—waiting anxiously for him in the shadows, Nate tried the same questions on a few other people. He got similar responses. Teo was known, Roko wasn’t. No one seemed to know what the fight was about or who the black werewolves were. With no more idea about what was going on or who Violet was, he made his way back to her.

“Nothing.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Where to?”

“Back to my hotel room. At least there we can get you cleaned up and into some warm clothes while we talk about what to do next.”

Nate was getting seriously worried about Violet’s ability to stick with him by the time they had trudged back through the forest to the point where he had left his werewolf-hunting kit. Although she was making valiant efforts to keep up with his pace, she was clearly struggling. From the point where he had buried the werewolf, they still had to walk to the road where he had left his rental car. Hoisting his bag onto one shoulder, Nate scooped Violet into his arms so he could carry her the rest of the way. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her head in the curve of his neck.

“Who are you? Really? I know your name, but that’s all.”

He laughed. “Just your average werewolf hunter.”

How did he start with the rest? Oh, and by the way, I’m in a band. Not just any band. We’ve been one of the top ten bestselling rock bands in Europe for the last two years and we’re just about to embark on a world tour. Which is why I have to be back in England tomorrow.

Somehow, nothing else mattered except how his hands felt compared with the softness of her thighs. Suddenly his fingers felt too big, too rough to be pressing into her delicate flesh. He experienced a ridiculous urge to apologize in case the abrasiveness of his touch was uncomfortable for her.

“But why are you here hunting werewolves. Why here, why now?” Her voice was a soft murmur in his ear, her breath warm against his cheek. Nate felt as if he was meant to carry her weight in his arms forever. This is ridiculous, he told himself firmly. He was getting carried away, believing himself to be taking the starring role in a child’s fairy tale. Slaying werewolves was part of his routine. Rescuing maidens seemed to have gone to his head.

“I get a message when there’s a problem.”

She laughed. “Just like that?”

“Yeah, it’s that simple.” As if anything in the last six years of his life had ever been that simple.

They had reached the car, and he placed Violet on her feet before stowing the bag containing his kit in the trunk. The courier would collect it from the motel later and dispose of it. All part of the service. A very bizarre service.

They accomplished the journey to the motel in silence, and once inside the room, Nate locked the door and switched on the lights. For the first time, he got a proper look at the woman he had rescued...and his breath caught in his throat.

“What is it?” Violet made an attempt to pull his sweatshirt down farther, squirming slightly under the intensity of his gaze.

Nate shook himself. “Well, at least we know your name really is Violet.”

She looked confused and he took her hand, drawing her over to the mirror. Turning her so that she could see her reflection, he stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes were enormous. Fringed by thick, spiky black lashes, they were a glorious, vivid shade of violet-blue. Her hair was a tumbling mass of midnight curls, and her skin, in contrast, was pale as milk. In the forest, he had thought she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. The harsh overhead glare of the neon lighting only confirmed his first impression.

Violet gave a shaky laugh. “How can I not know my own face?”

“That bump on the head must have caused you to lose your memory.”

She turned to face him. “You’re the only thing that seems real.”

With those words, the weight of his responsibility to her hit him full force. He had rescued her from that werewolf, but it didn’t end there. He couldn’t abandon her now. What had he hoped to do? Take her to a doctor and sneak out the back door while she was in the consulting room? Hand her over to the police? How would that story work out? While I was out werewolf hunting last night, I came across this naked girl...

No, Violet was in his care. Until her memory came back, or he found out who she was, he had a duty to look after her. A tiny voice at the back of his mind spoke up. Are you sure that’s what this is about? You haven’t just been bowled over by that beautiful face and those endless legs? Firmly, he shut it up.

“Go and take a shower or a bath while I make some calls.” He hesitated. “This might sound creepy, but it’s not intended to be...don’t lock the door. You may have a concussion, and I need to be able to get in there if you black out.”

She nodded trustingly and headed for the bathroom. Trusting. That’s what she’d been almost from the start. He had to live up to that trust. Six years a loner, and now, all at once, he was having to think for someone else.

Minutes later, he heard the faucet running. Nate dug his phone out of his pocket. It occurred to him that it would be useful if he had a number for Cal. His relationship with the sorcerer didn’t work that way. Cal contacted Nate when he needed to, usually turning up at some unearthly hour and surprising him when he least expected it. No, he couldn’t rely on Cal being around to help him out on this occasion. Instead, he called the other person who could be guaranteed to help him out in a crisis.

Ged Taverner had managed Beast since the group formed six years ago. He was the man who knew everything about each member of the group, every secret they had, both past and present. Now, despite the time difference, Ged answered on the third ring and managed to do a good job of sounding awake. He listened in silence while Nate explained what he needed from him.

His manager’s weary transatlantic groan needed no explanation. “Nate, don’t do this to me. You’re the sensible one, the one who never causes me any problems. I’ve never had to bail you out of a foreign prison. Never had to bribe a reporter to keep quiet about your antics. You’re not the one who calls me up days before we start the biggest tour of our lives and gives me this sort of headache.” Nate remained silent, and Ged tried for a persuasive tone. “We can find you another girl.”

Nate glanced at the clock. “It’s just after midnight here. I need you to sort this out today.”

Ged muttered a curse. “Nate, if she has no identity documents, there’s no way I can help you.”

“Make it happen, Ged, because I’m not leaving here until it does.”

This time the groaning and cursing held a note of defeat. “I’ll call you back in a few hours.”

When Nate hung up, he sank into a chair, leaning his head back and gazing at the ceiling as he listened to the sounds of splashing coming through the thin walls of the bathroom. He had made a commitment to protect Violet, and he would see it through. Even as he made the promise to himself, and to her, that little voice spoke up in his mind once more.

What if you find out that flawless face and beautiful body hide the soul of a werewolf?

* * *

Clad in a clean sweatshirt and a pair of Nate’s sweatpants rolled up at the ankles and cinched in as tight as she could get them at the waist, Violet emerged from the bathroom. She had used the dryer on her hair, being careful of her head wound, and it now curled wildly around her head and shoulders. Clearly, before her memory loss, she must have had a better idea of how to style it.

“I think I left half a forest in that tub.”

“How’s your head?” Nate was sprawled in a chair near the window.

“Sore.” She grimaced as she felt the back of her skull. “It’s not cut, but there’s a lump right here that hurts like hell.”

He snatched up his car keys. “Let’s get you to the emergency room.”

She studied him as he came toward her. He was tall and powerful, with an effortless, athletic grace to his movements. With his dark hair and eyes and masterfully carved features, her rescuer was a striking-looking man. There was something soulful in the depths of those dark eyes that tugged at her. When she looked into them, she felt like she was prying into some private grief.

But there was more to Nate than sorrow. There was an undercurrent of danger, a rawness about him that Violet thought held an untold story of hurt and anger. She guessed it provided the steel backbone necessary for killing werewolves and cutting off their heads and wondered why it didn’t scare her.

“Why are you doing this?” She had to tilt her head to look up at him. At least tilting no longer caused dizziness. “I mean, I really appreciate your help. I just wondered why.”

He paused, looking down at her with those eyes that had seen too much. “Because you need me.”

The words caused a fluttering sensation that had nothing to do with her injury. She tried to find a suitable response. The words that came out were totally inadequate. “I have no shoes.”

“We’ll stop on the way.”

It was intensely frustrating not to know things. Until Nate took her to a place called a mall, she hadn’t known that it was possible to buy sneakers, jeans and a sweater at midnight. Or that a doctor was available at an accident and emergency department at any time of the day or night. I must have known these things once. One bump on the head and they’ve gone? Just like that?

“My memory will come back, right?” she asked the doctor at the hospital who examined her.

“It will, but I can’t offer you any guarantees about when.” The woman doctor stepped back, stripping off her gloves. “It could be hours, days or even weeks. In some rare cases, it can take months for the memory to return fully after this sort of post-traumatic amnesia. Some people find things come back to them slowly. For others, their memory comes back in a sudden rush. All I can advise is that you rest, remember that you’ve suffered a trauma and don’t overdo it.”

“But there is no serious injury?” Nate asked.

“There is no external injury,” the doctor said. She extended a hand, helping Violet down from the examining table. “Your skull isn’t damaged. If you get any symptoms, such as headaches, dizziness or blurred vision, then seek medical help immediately. Also, I would advise a CT scan, a detailed image of the brain, just to rule out any underlying injury.”

“Will she be okay to travel?” Violet looked at Nate in surprise. Where was she traveling to?

The doctor pursed her lips. “As I said, my advice would be to rest. If traveling is essential, do it in easy stages.”

Violet thought she saw a flash of humor in Nate’s eyes at that comment, although she didn’t understand its source. Having thanked the doctor, they made their way back to the car. Violet felt exhaustion wash over her as she sank into the passenger seat. She studied Nate’s profile as he drove through the deserted streets of the quiet town. I don’t even know the name of this place. This could be my hometown and I don’t recognize it. The thought caused her a moment of panic. It subsided as a flash of certainty came to her. This is not my home. I don’t belong here.

That thought prompted a question. “Why would I need to travel?”

For a moment he didn’t answer. Then he took his eyes off the road briefly so he could glance her way. “Violet, how much do you know about rock music?”

The question was so unexpected it made her laugh. “If I said nothing, it would be a massive exaggeration. Although I might have been the world expert a few hours ago.”

They had reached the motel, and Nate stretched his long limbs before sliding out of his seat. Coming around to Violet’s side of the car, he held open the door before helping her out. As they walked into the motel room, she glanced up at his face. He looked tired, but there was a frown between his eyes.

“Just tell me.” She may not have known him for long, but she knew that frown was there because of her.

He threw himself down in the chair he had been seated in earlier, scrubbing a hand over his face as though attempting to erase the weariness. Violet sat on the edge of one of the beds. “I have to leave here today and fly to England.”

“Oh.” She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. Its glowing figures showed it was close to three in the morning. “Look, it’s been really kind of you to take care of me. I should probably just go now...”

“Where will you go?” He sounded unexpectedly harsh.

“I don’t know.” Her voice refused to rise above a whisper.

“Exactly.” He rose from his seat, coming to sit next to her. Clasping her hands between both of his, he ducked his head low so that he could look at her face. “I can’t leave you alone here like this, Violet.”

She was confused by the mixed messages he was giving. “My head hurts.” All she wanted to do was lean against Nate’s broad shoulder and let him take away her cares.

“I’m not surprised. Tonight has been enough to scramble anyone’s brain, with or without a blow to the head.” She didn’t understand why, but his smile warmed her. “Let me explain. I’m in a rock band. We’re just about to start a world tour, which is the reason why I have to go back to England today. If there was any way I could avoid it, I would cancel and stay here with you.”

“You’ve done enough. I wouldn’t ask you to change your plans for me.” Violet felt something sharp and bright sting the back of her eyelids at the idea that he would even want to. No one had ever put her first. How do I know that when I don’t know anything else about myself?

His grip on her hands tightened. “Violet, can you remember any details? Anything about your family, your home? Why you were at that party? That wolf called Roko? Why you were in the woods? Why you were naked? I know the doctor said don’t force it, but is there anything there?”

She closed her eyes. When she tried to probe her memory, all she could feel was a gray mist of nothingness. And a sense of...not belonging. She tried to grasp it. To give it a name. Otherness. That was as close as she could get. Sighing, she opened her eyes and gazed into the dark, soulful depths of Nate’s. He was all she had. The thought of him leaving terrified her.

“The only thing I know for sure is that I don’t belong here.”

“Then that settles it.” He nodded decisively. “You’re coming with me.”