The Heat (16 page)

His handsome face an unreadable mask, he held the sheet out for her. She hesitated for only a second before roughly yanking it out of his hand and holding it in front of her body like a shield.

He answered this with a small, cynical smile. Then he turned away from her, strode to the liquor table and, ignoring the wine he’d previously poured for himself, he snatched up one of the bottles containing brown liquor and uncorked it, placing the entire bottle to his lips.

Lily watched as he drank the liquid down, barely flinching against what had to be some very strong alcohol. She wrapped the sheet more tightly around her and decided that if she was going to get any answers out of Malcolm Cole, it was now or never.

She took a deep, cleansing breath. “Where are my clothes?” she asked, putting some strength into her words.

He lowered the bottle and, without looking at her, he said, “They are being cleaned. You have others to choose from in the closet to your left.”

Lily bit her lip and swallowed, preparing herself. “What are you going to do with me?” she asked then. This was the one she really wanted an answer to. She bore Kane’s mark. She couldn’t be claimed by Cole, no matter what he wanted. And Lily could sense that the witch had been left behind in Baton Rouge. So, what would he do? What
could
he do?

“Barring the use of magic, a wolf’s mark remains on both a chosen mate and the wolf who marked her until one of two things happens,” Cole said as he once more turned to face her. At the same time, he grabbed a second bottle from the table, this one containing a liquor that was nearly clear. He uncorked it and continued. “Either he dies and his mark disappears,” he said, and then took a long swig of the alcohol. He gritted his teeth against this one; apparently it was a touch stronger. “Or
she
does, and though it doesn’t really matter at that point, the mark disappears.”

Lily digested this information with a growing sense of unease. “You’re telling me that you’re planning on killing Daniel.” It wasn’t a question.

“He’s on his way as we speak,” Cole confirmed, smiling a strange smile and taking another long pull from the bottle. When he placed it back on the table, his eyes were closed. Lily recognized that look. She knew the alcohol was burning its way through him. She wondered how much of an effect it would have on him. If she’d downed that much hard liquor, she would most certainly die of alcohol poisoning.

But a werewolf? What did it take for one to get drunk?

When Cole opened his eyes once more, they were so green, they were nearly glowing like traffic lights. He pushed away from the table and strode toward the door. “Don’t try to leave the cabin, Lily,” he told her without looking at her. He reached for the door knob and swung the door open. “It wouldn’t be worth it to you, luv. So….” He paused, as if considering something. Then, still not looking at her, he finished with, “Just don’t.”

Then he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Lily gave it a few seconds and then went to the door and listened. It was silent beyond. She pressed her back to the cool, painted wood and tried to straighten out her thoughts. If what Cole said was true, then Daniel was most likely walking – or running – into a well-laid trap. She had to warn him. She had to stop him.

No matter what Cole threatened, Lily had to get out of that house.

She shivered; an aftereffect of the endorphins that had flooded her system with Cole’s physical contact. She needed a shower. She was wet and sweat had broken out along her brow line and the stubborn part of her wanted to scrub Malcolm Cole off of her skin – scour him out of her head. She also wanted to masturbate about a hundred times, until she could no longer climax and could not possibly succumb to his malicious waves of sexual power
ever
again.

She slid along the door, sinking until her bottom was on the floor, and closed her eyes.
What can I do?
She had nothing. No phone. No computer. And she was almost certain that she wouldn’t find them accessible to her in this house.

But she still had herself. And she still wore Daniel’s mark.

With that thought, she sighed and stood again. She didn’t necessarily want to waste any time, but the truth was, she was uncomfortable. She decided to take a quick shower to rinse off. It would give her time to come up with a plan.

She went to the closet door and flung it open to reveal a massive walk-in closet, filled to the brim with clothes of every fashion and color. She let her sheet drop and stood there for a moment, registering what she was seeing. It sort of shocked her. Especially when she finally moved forward and pulled down the two dresses nearest to her. They were both in her size. They were highly expensive brands. She blinked a few times and then shoved her surprise aside. So, he’d prepared for her. Of course he had. He had preparation down to an art. Which was another reason she needed to warn Daniel.

She dropped the dresses and at once began to search for jeans.

She found a pair of Lucky’s and threw them over her arm and then began looking for underwear. After a few minutes of fruitless searching, she realized that there wasn’t any. With a narrowed gaze and a few muttered derogatory words about men in general, Lily proceeded to hunt down a T-shirt. She found a dark gray one with the HIM symbol on the front and added it to the jeans. She didn’t bother with a bra, because there weren’t any of those either.

Then she looked at the assortment of available shoes. She shook her head in wonderment. What Cole had here, in this closet, would take every one of her paychecks for about a year. But the heels were out of the question. As were the sandals.

Finally, she located what she really wanted and she couldn’t help but wonder what had made the man add the boots to her collection. Whatever it was, she was grateful. She picked up the pair of boots and found a new pair of white socks.

She took her bundle to the door of her bedroom once more. And, again, she listened.

No sounds. So, she opened it tentatively. The hall beyond stretched to either side and led to several more rooms and archways. The house was immense and exquisitely designed. Under different circumstances, she’d have loved a tour.

Much different circumstances.

She stepped out into the hall and turned the knob on the door across from hers. It opened to reveal a bathroom that was roughly the same size as the guest room. She stood there in the doorway for a moment, utterly blown away. It was gorgeous.
Christ
, she could have
lived
in that bathroom. Marble as far as the eye could see. A second window that peered out over New Mexico’s desert mountains. An open shower that had something like twelve different shower heads.

She took it all in. And then she shook herself and stepped in, shutting and locking the door behind her.

* * * *

Malcolm smiled to himself when he heard Lily lock the bathroom door. Did she really think that could stop him? He shook his head and ran a hand through his dark hair, turning away from the liquor cabinet that he’d just visited for the second time in the last ten minutes.

He knew it wouldn’t work. Not any more. Not any of it. He was stuck with the memories, stuck with the pain.

He growled then suddenly, and swung around, shoving his fist through the wooden beam that stood beside him. When he pulled his arm back out, he smiled sardonically, glad that he’d had the house reinforced in such a way that it could withstand the beatings he so often put it through.

And then he strode to the windows, stared out over the lands and eventually, as it always did, his gaze slid to the leather bands around his wrists. So many men wore these kinds of bands these days. They were
stylish
. He laughed a mirthless laugh. They were considered
manly
.

Slowly, he unfastened the ties on one of them and let it drop to the floor. He turned his wrist over to reveal the deep, blood-red marking on the inside.

For him, the leather bands were nothing but functional. The symbols etched on his wrists were ancient. They were powerful. And they had been his punishment for the last seventy years.

How does she know?
he asked himself, bewildered once more by Lily St.Claire’s questions. How
could
she know? He didn’t understand. He wasn’t daft, though. She’d asked about the war. Asked him about his wrists. About speaking German. It didn’t take a genius to tell where it had all been leading. Somehow, she knew.

He closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair again, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the cool glass of the window. Guilt assaulted him. He felt bad for what he’d done to her upstairs. But he’d been angry – and scared. And he’d wanted her to stop asking questions. He had used his power mercilessly and shamelessly, drowning her stubborn curiosity in nothing short of mental rape.

He exhaled a shaky breath and resisted the urge to break the glass.

Then, for the ten-thousandth time in his life, Malcolm Cole ruthlessly bullied the distressing emotions inside of him until they were cornered and helpless in a darkened recess of his mind. He then slammed the door on them and straightened. He opened his eyes, emeralds flashing. He bent and picked up the leather band and secured it once more to his wrist, hiding the brand beneath it.

Then he gazed out the window once more. Daniel Kane would come. And Daniel Kane would die. And then Malcolm would take Lily St.Claire and, for the first time in far too many decades, he would know some measure of peace. Some measure of relief.

A respite.

Salvation.

Chapter Eleven: Lie Detector

Daniel Kane had chosen carefully from the members of his pack, knowing that whoever he brought along with him would most likely wind up infiltrating Cole’s territory in Daniel’s stead.

In one of the large leather swivel chairs sat Daniel’s trusted officer and friend, Lieutenant Michael Angel. The werewolf was seasoned enough; had been around the block a few times. He knew the lay of the land, so to speak, and was loyal to the end.

Across from him sat Major Jordan Stark, a black man who had grown up in New Orleans and had gone into law enforcement in order to help clean up his hometown. When Katrina hit, Stark’s eleven-year-old niece had been separated from the rest of her werewolf family. Females were as helpless as humans most of the time, and especially when they were children. The girl had been raped repeatedly in the bathroom of the Superdome.

Stark had gone on a killing rampage, hunting down her attackers and ripping them to shreds with teeth and claws. Kane, who had been in New Orleans to help in the chaos, as had every other officer he knew, found the other werewolf in the middle of one of his kills. Daniel had had to make a decision then and there: Aid the rogue werewolf in destroying the evidence, or turn him into the Clan Council. He’d gone with his gut and had helped Stark obliterate any signs that these men had ever existed. Stark had been so grateful for the help, and for Daniel’s silent understanding, that he had sworn an oath into Daniel’s pack. There were few men in the world that Daniel trusted more with his life than Jordan Stark.

Across the aisle in another plush leather seat, sat Detective Aiden Knight, who had been in the force with Daniel for the last ten years of his law enforcement career. Like the others, he too was unfailingly loyal, and he was an incredibly strong werewolf. One worthy of his own pack, in Daniel’s opinion.

Daniel had considered bringing others. His men had all volunteered. They’d negotiated, claiming that he needed all of the backup he could get. Cole was formidable and Kane was heading into the other alpha’s territory. It was banking uncomfortably close to a suicide mission.

But he didn’t want them to get hurt. A few of them were very young. He needed to know that the men watching his back were fully aware of what they were doing and knew how to keep from getting themselves killed.

At the moment, the cabin’s inhabitants were pensively quiet. Angel gazed out the window. Stark sat back with his hands threaded over his six-pack of a stomach, his eyes closed in inward contemplation. Knight nursed a glass of iced tea and distractedly shuffled a deck of cards with one hand. He, too, stared out the window.

Aside from his men, there was Daniel’s grandfather, who moved back and forth between the cabin and the cockpit. There was Daniel’s uncle, William, who was piloting. There was Tabitha, who had stubbornly refused to stay behind. And there was James Valentine.

Daniel watched Valentine with the eye of an alpha who was all too aware that he was sharing his personal space with another alpha.
Hell, I’m sharing a long more than that….

With that thought, a muscle ticked in his jaw and his teeth clenched. Then he straightened in his own chair and swiveled it slightly to the side, placing his elbows on his knees so he could casually clasp his hands before him. Valentine looked up.

“Tell us everything you know, Valentine. We’ve got a few hours.”

James Valentine considered this for a few seconds and then nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out as he, too leaned forward.

“Why and how did Cole come after Lily?” Daniel started.

James chewed on the inside of his lip and then said, “Cole didn’t choose Lily by random chance.” He paused, and then added, “He chose her because she dreamed about him.”

Daniel’s brow furrowed. As did Tabitha’s.

“That’s not possible,” Tabitha interjected. “She dreamed of Daniel. I know because she told me about the dream in high school.”

“I’m afraid it
is
possible,
mon petite fille
,” Jonathan Kane stood in the archway of the private jet that led to the kitchenette and bathroom beyond. He leaned up against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. “Elena and I have discussed this issue with the Council,” he went on. “Apparently there are so few Dormants alive now, each of them are dreaming about more than one alpha.”