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Secret of the Wolf(19)

By:Cynthia Garner


She shook her head.

Dante filled his mug almost to the brim and went back into the dining room.

As he sat down, Tori said, "I think it's wonderful that you opened up your home to Lily." Melancholy touched her dark eyes. "You have no idea how lucky you are. How lucky you've been to have your sister with you."

"But you have your brother."

She nodded, her smile so sad it broke his heart. "For now, yes." She seemed to come to a decision and opened up to him in a way she'd refused to in the club. "But I can tell he's pulling away from me. I feel as if I'm losing him and I don't know why."

                       
       
           



       Chapter Eight



Dante leaned back in the oak chair, his dark eyes fixed on her. "Tell me about him."

"Rand?" At his nod, Tori blew out a breath and wrapped suddenly chilled fingers around her coffee mug. There wasn't much heat left, but it gave her something to do with h N look goer hands. "He's five years younger than me. He's smart. A little … indecisive, I guess. But he has a good heart."

"Where's he been all these years?"

"After our Influx he ended up in Leeds. England," she clarified. "I was in London. Just a few hundred miles apart, and we didn't know. I wouldn't have had any idea whom he'd jumped into so finding him was virtually impossible. Of course, I could have traveled the countryside sniffing people," she added dryly.

Frankly, she'd been too busy trying to survive. Being a woman in the East End of London in the latter half of the Victorian era had not been an easy introduction to life on planet Earth. She'd done things that, once she'd gotten out of London, she'd vowed to never do again.

Humans talked about how violent prets could be, but human beings could be just as vicious. And a woman on her own on the backside of poverty in the late 1800s, even if she was a werewolf, was a woman at risk every damn day.

"So how did you find him?"

"I didn't. He found me." Tori scrunched her face at his expression of surprise. "I know, right? He just showed up on my doorstep a week ago … well, not quite a week yet, but there he was. Said he'd been looking for me for a while and had finally gotten lucky."

"Really?" Dante looked skeptical. "How did he do it?"

"He said he kept doing online searches for me, and eventually my name popped up in conjunction with the regional council of preternaturals."

"Wow, I'm surprised it took him that long." He took a sip of coffee. "You've been doing this job for how long now? About three years? He must really suck at using the Internet."

She frowned. He had a point, and she'd wondered the same thing. If she'd been able to locate Rand, nothing on Earth would have stopped her from getting to him. But he'd shared enough about himself that she knew he was close to being, if not actually, destitute. "He doesn't have a lot of money, Dante. Some people can't just pick up and go whenever or wherever they want to. They have to plan for a trip. Financially."

He gave a small shrug. "Regardless, I imagine you were shocked."

"Shocked doesn't begin to describe how I felt. Stunned. Gobsmacked." She grinned, remembering the moment she opened the door to see that familiar stranger on her modest front porch. "I knew right away who he was."

"How?" He leaned forward, his entire demeanor one of keen interest.

She shrugged. "It's kind of hard to explain. It's a … sense that I had. Plus, he … smelled like I remember."

"But his name wasn't Randall in the other dimension, right? Just like yours wasn't Victoria."

"Right." Tori crossed her legs and swung one foot. "But that's who we are now. Randall Langston and Victoria Joseph, formerly of Great Britain."

Dante twisted in his seat to hook one arm over the back of his chair. "Funny, you don't sound British." His square-tipped fingers played with the handle of the mug.

She shot him a dry look. "I've been in America since just after the Civil War. Plenty of time to lose an accent." She gave a slight shake of her head. "Or pick up a new one. Whatever." She was tired of talking about her brother and their relationship. Or lack of one. The closeness that Dante and his sister had put a bright spotlight on what she didn't have with her brother. She didn't want to be so mean-spirited as to feel envious, but she did. She was jealous of the bond Dante and Lily shared.

Tori sure as hell wasn't about to volunteer that her cousin had recently wandered into her life as well. Any thoughts of physical intimacy with Dante tonight fle Se te od as sadness and regret came over her. All she'd ever wanted was to have her family close by, and now that she did, it wasn't like she'd thought it would be.

Dante seemed to sense her discomfort, because he leaned forward and said, "So, since we're talking about the rift … "

She raised her brows. "Were we?"

"Yeah. We were."

Smart man, to know when to change the subject.

He pushed his mug to one side. "Can I see the device?"

"I'm surprised it took you this long." She grinned and got up from the table. Going into the kitchen she took the lid off the flour canister and rooted around, carefully pulling out the baggie. She held it over the sink and swiped clinging flour away, then grabbed a dishtowel and took both into the dining room. "In case Rand comes home," she said, holding up the towel before she dropped it onto the table. "If he comes in, put that over the gizmo." She opened the plastic baggie and wrapped her fingers around the small black contraption, holding it out to him.

Dante took it from her, the tips of his fingers grazing her palm, sending a frisson of sensual awareness through her nerve endings.

"Finally I get to see this damned thing up close," he muttered, turning the cell phone-sized device over in his hands. "Doesn't look like much, does it?"

"Uh-uh." Tori pointed toward one of the tiny silver knobs on one end. "This one turns it on."

He looked at her, dark eyes holding a mixture of concern and curiosity. "Have you? Turned it on, I mean."

"Oh, yeah. A couple of times." She grimaced. "But then someone always asks me for a password and I have to shut it off. We need to figure out how to turn it on without anyone on the other end knowing about it." She took the seat next to him. The warmth from his big body was intoxicating, and she had to fight against leaning closer.

"Turn it on." Dante held the device out to her.

Tori took it from him, her fingers brushing his once again. Thoughts of physical intimacy immediately flooded back into her mind. She wanted those strong hands on her skin, caressing her breasts, stroking her sex. Before she could do anything to act on those thoughts, Dante jerked his hand away as if he'd been zapped. With a sigh, she twisted the knob and turned on the rift device.

For a few seconds nothing happened, then static emitted from the speaker. Several moments later, a male voice spoke in the standard language from the other dimension. Tori quickly twisted the knob and switched off the device.

"What'd he say?" Dante asked.

"He asked for the password." Tori shook her head. "The other couple of times I've turned it on he's done the same thing."

"Same guy?"

"Don't know. Don't care." At his lopsided grin, she said, "Does it matter?"

"Probably not." He picked up the device and looked at where the two sides were attached. "Do you have a small Phillips-head screwdriver?"

"Sure." She got up and grabbed the toolbox from the laundry room. She handed him the screwdriver and watched as he worked the small screws loose. With slow care, he slid the battery off the back and then separated the two sides of the device's casing. "I opened it up a couple of days ago and realized it looks much more like a computer than a radio, so I called Tobias and asked him for help." She stared down at the inner workings of the device. "This all looks like a bunch of wires and bits of … bits."





Dante gave a low whistle upon seeing the inside of the gadget. "Would you look at that." It did in fact look like a computer, but it was by far the sm Sby istle uallest one he'd ever seen. He pointed to a tiny square that was no bigger than a quarter of an inch wide. "That's probably the microprocessor, and these"-he put his finger above thin copper wires-"lead to that." He looked at what appeared to be an external connector. Studying the sides of the casing, he mused, "Looks like a USB port."

"To hook up to what?" Tori leaned closer, a long tendril of hair escaping her upswept style. It curled against her cheek.

Without thinking, he reached out and brushed it behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her soft skin. When her eyes closed as she leaned forward, he remembered his resolve not to get romantically involved with her and dropped his hand to the table. He cleared his throat and her eyes flew open. "Sorry," he muttered.

She heaved a sigh. Her look was one of exaggerated disappointment, though he saw the hurt she couldn't hide. The gaiety in her eyes seemed forced. "You are such a tease, MacMillan. A fisherman … woman … gets tired of baiting the hook only to have the fish get away time after time. So be forewarned: One of these days I may not let you get away so easily."