Desire the Night(51)

“Vivian, is something wrong?” Victor’s father asked.

“No, Diego,” she answered, sounding confused. “I …” She shook her head. “I just had the strangest urge to go outside.” She laughed self-consciously. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“What kind of urge?” Alissano asked sharply.

“I don’t know.” Vivian shook her head. “I can’t explain it. I didn’t really want to go outside, but I couldn’t seem to stop myself.”

Alissano and Diego exchanged glances.

Diego frowned. “You don’t think … ?”

Alissano nodded, his nostrils flaring as his gaze swept the shadows. “The vampire’s been here. Inside, quickly.”

Drifting away from the main house, Gideon resumed his own form. Odd, he thought absently, that his clothing changed with him, but the werewolves shed theirs when they shifted.

Cursing the untimely return of the Alphas, Gideon left the compound.

On the other side of the fence, he hunkered down on his heels, brow furrowing as he stared at the main house. He had little doubt about what was going on in there. He could think of only one thing that would bring Alissano to the Green Mountain compound.

Kay’s upcoming marriage to the Rinaldi heir.

All he had to do now was figure a way to get her out of there before she became Victor’s bride.





* * *



Chapter 23

Verah studied the three dwellings clustered inside a high, electrified fence. After much trial and error, she had finally tracked the werewolf girl to this place hidden in the hills of Wyoming. Now, standing in the drifting shadows near the front entrance, she pondered how best to get inside—and out again—without being caught. Vampires could not be compelled; she had no idea if compulsion would be effective on the fanged and furry members of the supernatural community.

Perhaps the best approach would be to wait for everyone to go to bed, then cast an invisibility spell that would allow her to enter the house undetected. Once she found the werewolf, she could try to compel her. If that didn’t work …

Verah smiled as she patted the hypodermic needle resting inside the left pocket of her traveling cloak. Drugs were an effective backup plan when magic wasn’t quite enough.

She glanced down at the black cat circling her ankles. “All we have to do now is wait.”

With a throaty purr, Rama stretched out at her feet, tail swishing back and forth.

Gradually, the house’s interior lights winked out one by one.

“Now,” Verah said. Lifting the cat into her arms, she stroked its head as she chanted softly, invoking an invisibility spell.

When it was complete, she moved toward the front gate, still stroking the cat’s head. A second spell disabled the electrical current and unlocked the gate.

Pulling her wand from her pocket, she made her way to the front door. Another quick incantation and the front door opened.

Whispering, “Wait here,” she put the cat down. She glanced left and right, then stepped lightly across the threshold.

Her tracking spell had indicated that the werewolf she sought was being held in a cellar or a basement in the nether regions of the house. Following the path the spell revealed, Verah moved unerringly down two flights of stairs. A flick of her wand unlocked the door at the bottom of the steps.

Moving inside, she willed a little power into her wand, which caused the tip to glow, illuminating the room. Frowning, she glanced around. There was no sign of the werewolf, just racks of wine bottles.

Lifting the wand higher, she noticed the door at the far end of the cellar. Another flick of her wand, and the door opened on well-oiled hinges.

The werewolf was on a narrow cot, asleep, her cheeks damp with tears.

All too easy, Verah mused. Moving closer to the bed, she plucked a hair from the werewolf’s head and wound it around the end of her wand. Lamenting the fact that it was necessary to shed the invisibility spell to invoke a new one, she murmured softly into the werewolf’s ear, planting her compulsion.

For a moment, she thought the spell had failed. But then, moving zombielike, the werewolf girl stood, her eyes open and unfocused.

Smiling, Verah whispered, “Follow me,” and led the way out of the house and into the night.



Gideon leaned forward, his eyes narrowing as the wind shifted, carrying with it a scent he would never forget. Verah. Damn! He had told Kay the witch didn’t have the nerve to beard the lion in his den. Just proved how wrong he could be. The witch had to be desperate to risk coming here, and that meant Kay’s life was in danger.

With preternatural speed, he was on his feet. He rounded the front corner of the house in time to see Verah step out onto the porch. Kay followed close behind, her movements wooden and unnatural.