Читать книгу The Lost Wolf's Destiny - Karen Whiddon - Страница 8

Chapter 2

Though it was dark, the main house of Jacob Gideon’s ranch was well lit, lined with soft, flattering floodlights that looked less like a prison’s than tastefully done architectural highlights. The building, a series of interesting curves and angles, appeared to be made of a soft golden-colored stucco that blended with the desert landscape. Blythe hadn’t expected to find it so warm and welcoming. She’d thought it might be more austere, like a convent or a monastery.

Groggy and out of sorts, Hailey refused to walk, so Blythe carried her. She could do this since her daughter had such a slight body. Hailey wasn’t anywhere near the size of a normal five-year-old girl, a fact that pained Blythe. Once Jacob healed her, then surely Hailey would bloom and grow.

The woman who led Blythe and Hailey to their room was soft-spoken and seemed kind. She appeared fairly young and, to Blythe’s curious eye, normal. No long, prairie-type skirt or pale, downtrodden expression. Instead, she spoke in a quiet, East Coast accented voice as she explained a little about life at Sanctuary.

“You both are honored visitors here,” she said, smiling as Hailey tried to disappear by hiding her face behind Blythe’s neck. “And though your room might seem small and plain, I promise you it will be comfortable. We don’t go much for luxuries at Sanctuary.”

Trying not to show her exhaustion, Blythe nodded. “We just need showers and a good night’s rest.”

“No problem,” the woman said. “I’m Ginger, by the way. Is it all right if I call you Blythe?”

“Of course.” From somewhere, Blythe dredged up a smile.

They traveled down a long, dimly lit hall. Keeping with the building’s exterior, the glazed terra-cotta flooring and Spanish-style decorations brought to mind an upscale hotel rather than a ranch house or, as some had claimed, a cult headquarters where women were kept prisoner.

Maybe it was the exhaustion, but Blythe relaxed somewhat as they took an elevator to the second floor.

“Here we are.” Stopping in front of a door marked with a large number seven, Ginger unlocked it and pushed it open.

Wearily, Blythe trudged past her, still carrying her exhausted daughter. The room was small, but looked clean. There was a double bed, a nightstand, one chair and a dresser. She placed Hailey, who had nearly drifted back to sleep, on the bed and turned to inspect the rest of it. There wasn’t much more. A doorway led to an equally spartan bathroom.

“There you go,” Ginger said brightly. “You’ll find a supply of clothing and undergarments in the dresser, as well as pajamas.”

Blythe frowned. While Jacob had said they didn’t need to bring anything, she’d anticipated making a stop along the way to purchase a few clothing items.

Taking a step forward, she opened the top drawer. Inside, she found several neatly folded T-shirts and pairs of jeans, all in her size. In the drawer below were similar things for Hailey, again in the right size.

“Everything you need,” Ginger said.

“How’d you know the size?” Blythe blurted out, not sure whether to be amazed or creeped out.

Ginger shrugged. “Mr. Gideon is a good guesser.”

“But—”

Stifling a yawn, Ginger ratcheted her smile up a notch. “If you don’t mind, Jacob would like to meet with you before you rest for the night.” She glanced at Hailey, who, with her sagging eyelids and drowsy expression, was clearly exhausted. “I’d be happy to stay here with your daughter if you’d like.”

Blythe frowned. This was odd, considering she’d just spent several hours with Jacob in the limo. After a moment of hesitation, Blythe tried to stall. “Do you think it can wait until the morning?”

“Oh, I don’t think so.” Her smile was sweet. “We generally don’t refuse Jacob when he asks for something. But don’t worry. He won’t meet with you for long. I promise I’ll take good care of your little one while you’re gone.”

Though no doubt the woman meant well, a shiver of warning skittered across Blythe’s spine. They generally didn’t refuse Jacob when he asked for something? What the heck did that mean?

“No.” Reaching a decision, Blythe spoke in a sweet voice, though firmly. “I’d rather take her with me.”

“Really?” Ginger cocked her head. “That’s hardly fair to her, is it? Look how sleepy that poor baby is.”

“Hailey,” Blythe said, pushing back mild panic and hating the way she felt out of control. “Her name is Hailey.”

Ginger acknowledged the introduction with a shy dip of her chin. “Of course. And I do think it’d be best if we let her rest. Just one moment. I’ll have someone else come and take you to Jacob.”

She removed a walkie-talkie from her belt and spoke a few words into it. “There we are. Savannah will be here shortly.”

Struggling not to let exhaustion claim her, which was no doubt why she’d overreacted, Blythe nodded. “Have you been here long?” she asked.

Immediately, Ginger’s friendly smile vanished. “Excuse me a second,” she said, ducking out into the hallway without answering.

Surprised, Blythe didn’t move. Was there some rule about asking personal questions? That would not only be weird, but more cultlike than she cared for. When this Savannah person arrived, she’d ask her the same thing and see if she got a similar reaction.

A moment later Ginger returned, accompanied by a short, older woman with long, frizzy hair that looked as if she hadn’t combed it in days. She wore no makeup on her lined face and no jewelry. With her stooped shoulders and listless movements, she looked every bit as weary as Blythe felt.

Her faded blue gaze skittered over Blythe as she entered the room. “Come with me, please.”

For a split second, Blythe considered refusing to go. Instead, she swallowed back her questions. She’d committed to this. She trusted Jacob Gideon and, by default, his people. She’d need to learn to deal with her misgivings.

After a final glance at Hailey, she turned to follow the older woman. Ginger stopped her. “Wait just a second.”

She held out some papers on a clipboard. “I need you to sign here, please. This simply states that I’ve delivered you to your room.”

Enough was enough. Who needed to have a room delivery signed? “I don’t make a habit of signing papers without reading them,” Blythe said. “Leave them and I’ll sign them later, after I’ve had time to go over them.”

Ginger’s crestfallen expression didn’t change Blythe’s mind.

“I’m sorry.” Squinting tiredly at her, Blythe accepted the clipboard and tossed it on the bed. “I promise I’ll look at it when I get back.”

“Very well.” Ginger smiled softly. “I’ll wait here and watch over your child. We can go over the paperwork together when you return. I do need to have it signed before I go back to my regular duties.”

Again Blythe found this weird. But then again, what did she know? She’d never been inside a religious compound before.

Once she was out in the hall, Savannah grunted. “Follow me, please,” she said. Trudging along a few steps ahead, she picked up her pace each time Blythe hurried to catch up.

Exhaustion forgotten, Blythe grabbed her arm. “Wait up.”

The other woman rounded on her, her expression panicked. “Don’t touch me,” she yelped, jerking her arm away. Then, shaking her head and muttering under her breath, she took off again.

Stopping short, heart pounding in her chest, Blythe stared at Savannah’s retreating back. Enough was enough. These people were definitely strange, bordering on scary. No way was she going anywhere without Hailey.

She turned, intending to head back to her room.

She’d barely taken a few steps when Savannah came rushing back. “I’m sorry. Please accept my apology,” she said, the words running together without any real trace of contrition. “I’m new here and I’ve had a rough time before all this. I really don’t want to blow it.”

That explained a lot. Still wary, though no longer verging on the edge of panic, Blythe nodded. “Apology accepted. Lead the way.” Following Savannah again, this time she knew better than to speak.

Finally, they reached the end of a long hallway and stopped in front of the last room. Double doors where the others were all single, these were made of some dark wood like mahogany or cherry. No mere knob here, but an elaborate pewter handle, which made for an overall effect of understated luxury. More like a corporate CEO than a preacher, but then what did she know? Most churches, especially the mega ones like Sanctuary, were run like profitable businesses.

“Knock twice and go in when he says to,” Savannah said, her voice once again devoid of inflection. She moved away, heading back up the hall with her head and neck forward, her motions reminiscent of a plow horse struggling against the harness.

Still unsettled, Blythe watched her until she disappeared around a corner. Then, turning and facing the door, she lifted her fist and knocked.

“Come in.”

At his invitation, she turned the handle, wondering at her sudden urge to see him again. He was so kind, so warm and reassuring. Stepping into the room on carpet so plush her feet appeared to sink into quicksand, she moved toward where Jacob waited for her behind a massive cherrywood desk.

“You wanted to see me?” Though she hated the feeling of being summoned before the lord of the manor, she kept her tone and her expression pleasant. After all, this man only wanted to help her precious child.

He stood, indicating two overstuffed chairs near a fireplace. “Please, take a seat.”

Once she had, again feeling suffocated by the eerie feeling of sinking into the upholstery, he went to a coffee machine on a side table, one of those fancy ones that made single servings. “Would you like something to drink?” he asked. “I have decaf and regular, as well as several varieties of tea.”

“Decaf, please.” While he busied himself making their coffees, she studied the room. It was beautifully—and from the looks of it, professionally—decorated, but devoid of personality. Much like a hotel room, the furnishings and artwork gave no hint whatsoever of Jacob’s character.

When he returned with their coffees on a round silver tray, along with various kinds of sweetener packets, he placed them on a table in front of them and took a seat in the other chair. He appeared the benevolent older gentleman, concerned about her well-being.

She accepted her drink, after adding a bit of sugar and stirring. Taking a sip, she glanced up to find him watching her with an intensity that added to her discomfort.

“Jacob, I’m really tired,” she said gently. “And I find Savannah and Ginger a bit odd, to say the least.”

He grimaced, appearing instantly concerned. “Savannah is new to us. Before she came here, she suffered greatly. Please don’t take her behavior personally. She means well.”

Inhaling, Blythe nodded. “She explained that.”

“Now about Ginger?” He leaned forward. “What is your concern with her? I chose her to help you because she genuinely loves children. I thought she’d be a good choice to watch over Hailey when you couldn’t.”

Once again, Jacob was the voice of reason. She relaxed back into the softness of the chair. “I’m guessing there must be something you forgot to tell me in the car?”

One eyebrow winged up. “Not exactly. I wanted to speak with you away from your little girl.”

“Hailey,” she said, wondering why she felt this fierce compulsion to make everyone use her daughter’s name. Humanizing her, possibly. Just in case doing so might make her caregivers try even harder for her. Another bit of paranoid foolishness, she supposed.

“Yes, Hailey.” His mild tone contained a hint of reprimand.

This time, rather than respond, she sipped from her coffee and waited for him to tell her what he wanted.

Instead, he leaned forward and, staring intently at her, asked her if she liked animals. It took every bit of self-control she possessed not to jump up and ask him to please cut to the chase.

“I do,” she nodded, her expression tight, deciding to respond in kind. “Do you have any pets?”

“No. But I wasn’t talking about pets.” Again he drank from his cup. “I’m asking about wild animals.”

Stranger and stranger. “Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say.

“Specifically, wolves,” he drawled. “Are you fond of wolves?”

She stiffened. Instantly on alert, she forced herself to try to appear indifferent. “They’re all right. Why do you ask?”

His smile seemed knowing. “No reason. I find them to be beautiful. Wild and fierce.”

If he thought she would reveal her true nature as a Shape-shifter, he was wrong. And there was no possible way he could know. Not only were there Pack laws about this sort of thing, but no one revealed their true nature to humans without a damn good reason.

“Lovely artwork,” she commented, gesturing toward the wall, hoping to change the subject. “But I don’t see any personal pictures. You know, photographs of your family. Do you have any children?”

He looked nonplussed. “No,” he answered. “I was widowed a long time ago.”

Draining her cup, she set it down on the table with a loud clatter and waited with barely concealed impatience for him to come out with whatever he was trying to say.

Instead he placed his own cup down and pushed to his feet. “You do understand that we will have to do numerous tests on your daughter?”

“Tests? What for? She’s had enough tests. Why would a faith healer need tests?”

He regarded her with a patient smile, as though humoring her. “I understand. But we still must do tests in order to learn where to focus our healing energies.”

Crossing her arms, she shook her head. “I’ll be happy to furnish you with the results of everything she’s already had done. But no new tests.”

For a moment something dark blackened his kind eyes. Then he dipped his chin, as if disappointed. Maybe she’d imagined it. “As you wish, Ms. Daphne. We’ll speak more on this later.”

Once Jacob turned away, Savannah materialized. She might have even been standing in a shadowed corner of the room. “Come with me,” she said.

“Thank you for your time,” Jacob said, clearly dismissing her.

Pushing to her feet, her unease settling like a sour ball in her stomach, Blythe left.

Once they reached her room, Savannah opened the door and stepped aside. As soon as Blythe entered, she came back, pulling the door closed behind her.

“See, I told you it wouldn’t take long,” Ginger said softly, smiling. “Your daughter didn’t even wake up while you were gone.”

“Hailey,” Blythe corrected automatically. “And she’s ill. Can you make sure we’re not disturbed in the morning? I want to make sure she gets her rest.”

At the question, the younger woman’s smile faded. Pointing to what looked like a walkie-talkie sitting on the nightstand, she backed away. “Use that if you need me for anything. There are all the necessary toiletries in the bathroom. Now, have a good night’s rest, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.”

Again without answering Blythe’s request, she’d made her own demands. Then, before Blythe could question or acknowledge, Ginger stepped out into the hall and closed the door.

Pushing away the doubts and fears that threatened to overwhelm her, Blythe gently shook her little girl awake.

“Sweetheart, we need to clean up,” she murmured. “Then we’ll get you into your pajamas.”

Still half asleep, Hailey nodded. Blythe shepherded her into the bathroom and began filling the tub.

As the water rose, Hailey blinked. “I don’t wanna take a bath,” she protested. “I’m hungry and thirsty and I want to eat and then play.”

Her droopy eyes and flushed face told a different story. “You need a bath,” Blythe said, her voice firm. “After we’re both clean, I’ll see what I can find for us to eat, okay?” After all, if there was nothing in the room, she could use the walkie-talkie to call Ginger.

Only partially mollified, Hailey nodded.

Later, after they were both clean and dressed in brand-new, soft cotton pajamas in exactly the right sizes, Blythe located a small refrigerator, partially hidden underneath the desk with a curiously lightweight chair. Inside she found juice, water and diet cola, as well as various healthy snacks. She grabbed a roll of string cheese and a bottle of water and carried it to Hailey.

While her daughter ate her snack, Blythe turned down the bed. The sheets appeared to be of a good quality and looked as though they’d been pressed.

Impressed, she shook her head. This place could pass for a hotel or resort, if not for the weird attitudes.

“Is it dark outside, Mommy?” Hailey asked, stifling a yawn.

“Yes, baby.” Blythe answered automatically, turning back the comforter and patting the bed. “Let’s try to get some sleep so we’re rested in the morning. We’ve got to be wide-awake so the nice man can try and help you.”

Hailey’s eyelids were already drooping. “Okay,” she murmured, crawling up and laying her head on the pillow. “Cover me up, please,” she ordered.

Climbing in beside her daughter, Blythe smiled. “I’ll cover us both.” She leaned over and kissed Hailey’s baby-soft cheek. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too, Mama.”

Heart full, vowing to dream of hope, Blythe clicked off the light.

* * *

Damn. Guilt and shock and yes, the ever-present simmering flame of anger filled Lucas. The place still looked the same, he thought, coasting slowly past the immense wrought iron gates as though he was merely a curious biker, riding the back roads on his Harley. Pushing away the instinctive dread that coalesced in his gut, he studied the deceptively peaceful house through the black iron fence.

And he forced himself to remember the exact layout of Sanctuary. As if he could ever forget. That particular image was burned in his brain.

The urge struck him, hard and fast and furious, to give his bike the gas, spinning the wheels, and roar off into the sunset. Of course, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. It was time he paid back the debt he’d incurred fifteen years ago by failing his sister.

Continuing on, his powerful motorcycle rumbling beneath him, he circled the western edge of the property. Either Jacob had gotten careless, or he truly wasn’t worried about intruders, because here the fence was gone. From the looks of the deteriorating rubble, it had come down years ago.

Once, there had been perimeter cameras, and barbed wire, and patrolling guards. Despite all that, Lucas had managed to escape, his desperation and sorrow fueling him.

Then, the place had been a veritable fortress. Now, fifteen years later, apparently Jacob had no such worries, whether about people escaping or breaking in. Which meant either he had all of his followers completely brainwashed or he hadn’t managed to snag another abomination, as he’d called Lucas.

Until now. Until the little girl and her beautiful mother. They were like him, which was why they were in such grave danger.

He sighed. Somehow, Jacob had convinced them to come willingly, unaware of what kind of a monster the publicly pious man truly was. Lucas could well imagine the spiel, the honeyed lies flowing freely as Jacob promised healing and hope for the clearly exhausted mother and her seriously ill child.

Again, Lucas saw the woman’s face, as clear in his mind as if he knew her. Once more, his wolf came alert, the strong tug of something—attraction?—apparently affecting not only the man, but the beast, as well. Not good. And not only irrelevant to his mission, but a distraction he didn’t need or want. He had revenge on his mind, not lust.

Shaking his head, he forced his thoughts back to Jacob Gideon, the devil incarnate. Who knew what Jacob really meant to do, what experiments and torture he planned to inflict on the helpless small child, all in the guise of healing? If they were anything like what he’d done to Lucas, his own son, and to Lilly, his own daughter, they would be brutal. Truth be told, after seeing how delicate and weak the little girl appeared to be, Lucas doubted she’d be able to survive. His sister certainly hadn’t.

Pushing away the still-raw wound, he wondered what Jacob planned to do with the mother once he killed her child? A grieving mother would not only understand the depths of his betrayal, but would crave vengeance, no matter what the cost. Grimacing, he didn’t want to imagine the special something Jacob had planned for her, as well. No matter what she was, Jacob couldn’t help but notice her startling beauty.

Growling low in his throat, Lucas again pushed back his wolf. He had a job to do, and perhaps his wolf self would be helpful in that. Either way, no matter what, Lucas knew he had to get them out. As quickly as possible.

He made one more slow circle around the ranch, just to make sure. Sanctuary was unguarded. Good for him, bad for Jacob. But then again, he reminded himself, who the hell would really want to break in to Sanctuary? Especially if they’d never been given a reason?

Again Lucas pictured the small girl’s wan face and her mother’s tired, hopeful beauty. His fists clenched. He had to save them. He would save them, no matter what the personal cost.

It had taken him three days to make the drive. But then, he didn’t know exactly when the woman and her child had arrived here. If it had been directly after the newscast, that would mean they’d been under Jacob’s roof for seventy-two hours. Who knew what had already happened to them? He’d seen the look of desperation in the mother’s eyes. She’d obviously tried everything and was now reduced to grasping at straws. Jacob Gideon’s blatant brand of faith healing drew only the truly hopeless or the truly lost.

He wondered if she’d yet begun to figure out how things went. They’d probably had enough time to realize they weren’t exactly guests, but prisoners. And that Jacob might not be the benevolent prophet of God that he claimed to be.

He had one plan. Break in. Find the woman and her child. Get them out. And annihilate anyone who stood in his way.

Savagely, he realized he actually hoped that Jacob decided to stand in his way.

The woman might not believe him, but he’d have to take that chance.

His motorcycle, which had long been his primary form of transportation, wouldn’t work for getting them out. He’d need something larger, a car or truck or van.

He’d deal with that later. Right now, he’d gotten the lay of the land.

Driving past the gate for the last time, he gunned the motor and headed into town and the motel room he’d reserved by phone. He’d come back tonight under cover of darkness, go in and take a closer look.

Briefly, it occurred to Lucas that Jacob might have set a trap for him, using the woman and child as a lure to bring in his prodigal son. But as soon as he had this thought, he dismissed it. Too many years had passed and for all Jacob knew, Lucas was dead. Not once in all that time had Lucas attempted to make contact with the man who’d raised him. Despite the evidence of his bruised and battered young body, he hadn’t even gone to the authorities and reported Jacob for child abuse. He’d suspected they wouldn’t believe him or, if they did, Jacob’s silver tongue and powerful influence would convince them otherwise.

Full of guilt and sorrow, all Lucas had cared about was putting as much distance as possible between himself and Sanctuary and the man who had killed his twin sister.

After parking in front of his rustic motel room, he checked in and received his key. Next to the motel, a flashing neon sign advertised a café. His stomach growled. He needed meat, lots of it, red beef, hamburger or steaks, something with lots of protein to feed the animal inside him.

Using his key, he unlocked his room door and went inside. The musty odor of stale cigarette smoke mingled with the lingering smell of bleach. The scents, no matter how offensive, barely registered.

Because he suddenly realized he did have an amendment to his plan. Pretty much foolproof. Because no matter what Jacob might or might not expect from Lucas, he wouldn’t expect him to return as a wolf, the very thing that made him a demon in Jacob’s eyes.

Inside, Lucas’s wolf growled with approval. Decision made, he turned around and left the room to head toward the café. Now he would eat to make sure he was strong enough for the change. After, he might try to catch a few hours of shut-eye before nightfall.

Tonight, he’d return to the place that haunted his nightmares. Tonight, he would change and let his inner beast free. And this time, he would succeed.

He nearly laughed out loud. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on him. It was fitting he go there as wolf. With his amplified senses—especially scent and night vision—he’d have the advantage. Jacob might have put the woman and her daughter out there as bait, using them to lure his son back. Or he might not. Either way, Lucas would find them and set them free. And in the process, he’d find a way to expose Jacob Gideon for what he truly was.

Once Lucas was done, once he got the woman and her daughter out, he’d make sure Jacob never hurt anyone else ever again.