Beauty and the Brute [Werescape III] (2 page)

Titus caught my eye and arched a brown eyebrow.

What did that mean? I stopped a step away.

"Jack's heading back this way, Lorelei."

Titus knew I'd ditched the youth. I threw up my hands and smiled. “Dance with me."

The flinch of a corner of the big Guardian's mouth noted his displeasure as he extended his hands. But we were off on our little escape route across the churning dance floor. Well, as much as the sticking rubber soles of his combat boots allowed us easy progress.

"You know how much I hate dancing, Lorelei.” Titus timbered.

"Yes.” I grinned at his half smile. “But I'm certain your wife thanks me for making you practice. We wouldn't want you to get rusty, my friend."

His eye roll toward the raised ceiling's nine sparkling chandeliers was priceless.

"Leave me at the doorway to the lady's room, and I'll release you from this torture.” I

winked.

In four strides, he deposited me at the door.

"Don't worry, Titus.” I glanced toward the bustling dancers. “I'm going to hide out in here for a while until Jack gets distracted.” I winked again.

"Well then when shall I bully into the room to wake you from your nap?” He crossed his arms and settled his shoulder blades into the golden wall beside the doorway.

"Oh, the older ladies will enjoy that.” He always knew how to make me laugh. “I promise not to take forever."

The boring bathroom's three stalls stood empty, doors hanging wide open. Water spotted the polished black stone of the sink's countertop. But I wasn't going to linger on a black leather chaise watching the water evaporate. No, I had things to investigate. So, I stepped into the coat closet, pushed my way to the back, all the way back like the girl in that children's story about the wardrobe where a doorway loomed behind coats, and rubbed a palm along the cool wooden beam structure and flat expanses of lower sheets of wood used to create the wall and hide the fact there was a hidden door in the wall, until I found the groove to lock my fingertips in, to slide the pocket door just enough where I could slip through the opening into

the darkest hallway I'd encountered tonight.

Light glowed down the hall, pouring through the open doorway leading directly into the library.

Maybe this wasn't the best idea. If Lord Yale walked through this private passageway to his library, he might see me. Or one of his Guardians with night vision. But Ms. Taylor wouldn't have warned me about the library tonight if I didn't need to be here.

A hum of warning made my limbs vibrate.

Stupid fear. I was supposed to be here. Time to learn why. I carefully placed a foot in one covert step.

My shoe squeaked.

Crap. I yanked the heels off and tiptoed my way down the hall.

Faint voices began to magnify.

Just a few more steps until I could decipher the words. Then I'd stop and linger in the shadows.

"What are you going to do to assuage the extraterrestrial's anger, Lord Yale?"

The voice of Jack's father. Something had irritated the aliens. Who else was in the room? And why did I need to know? I sank against the comforting wall and waited.

My heart thrummed a warning.

"When Glover arrives, I'll tell you both."

Not that bastard. He drools when he sees me. But Yale wouldn't make a decision about the aliens without his right-hand bastard. Bastards were the best security AEI. Even with Lord

Yale.

Shit. Titus is going to kill me if I get caught.

"Well, I don't see what the trouble is. Nobody has crossed the city's perimeter without asking permission,” Jack's father stated dryly.

"I only want to explain once. Just wait—Glover, where have you been?"

Okay. Any moment. I'll overhear this ridiculous point and get the hell out of here.

"Just checking on the guests,” Glover hissed.

The snake. Probably screwing some poor servant who crossed his path in a shadowy hall.

Glover always had one of them backed up against a wall, his hairy ass hanging out of his pants.

"Bourbon?” Yale offered.

Probably to Glover who just arrived.

"There's been a change of plan,” Yale said. “We need to move up the placation date."

"Oh?” Glover replied enthusiastically.

Why? And what's a placation date?

"No. Can't we do something else, Cameron? It'll kill Jack."

What does Jack's father know that I don't?

"I'm afraid not. They'll be happy with the girl."

"Lucky bastards,” Glover chuckled.

Bastards? They'll? How many men get this girl?

"I don't know. Don't want to know,” Yale growled. “Why in the hell do you?"

Because he's a bastard like the aliens he envies. Jerk.

"Cameron, please—"

"Look, Frank, my hands are tied. They make demands. I mediate for us. There's nothing I can do. I warned you to prepare him for this day. I'm sorry. It's just come two years earlier than expected."

Two years earlier than expected? Yale was giving a girl to the aliens? But he was the epitome of an excellent leader. Nothing like Drake of New York.

"After Titus puts her in her chamber, tell him I need to speak with him,” Yale said.

Titus?

Something squeezed my neck, downward, over my shoulders, down my arms.

Numbing. Numb. I couldn't feel.

Oh dear God. The girl. Glover's condescending term for me when he had to refer to me respectfully to Yale. No. Not me. It can't be. I clutched my shoes so tightly that the spiked heel dug into my chest.

My heart. The merciful heel tried to impale me to end my misery.

My stepfather was giving me to the aliens.

A chill shook my soul.

The hall's dark shadows whirled.

I had to get out of here. Run away. Hide.

Somehow I found myself stumbling through the closet, bumping into coats and bags full of things a woman might require at an affair such as Lord Yale's celebration. I collapsed against a wall.

Celebration?

My stomach flopped like a fish stranded on a bank.

Facing death. Dear. God. Why? What had Yale said? Placation date? Planned all along? I

needed to cry. Scream. Yell.

My legs trembled so badly I couldn't lift myself off the wall.

The only way I'd survive this night and the rest of my life as an alien possession was to escape. The city. Oh dear. God, how?

My gut churned up a wave of searing heat.

Bile. I shoved off the wall and dove at the cold black sink.

Two older guests shoved the exit's door inward.

So much for poise. I couldn't control my heaving and braced my palms against my knees where I leaned over.

"Oh, dear. Lady Lorelei, should we call for assistance?” a woman asked.

Shit. I can't talk to people right now. I gulped down air.

My stomach finally calmed.

I splashed cold water on my face. “No. No. I'm just a bit woozy. I think I've caught a bug. I'll just go to my room."

"Take care, my dear. Those little things can turn nasty. You should tell Lord Yale's doctor."

I spat cold water back into the sink and raised up to find the line from the black kohl stick still neatly in place where it traced the eyes of my reflection.

A slim woman stepped close, studying my image in the mirror. “You look pale, milady. You should go to your room."

Lady. What a joke. I was no lady. I was a placation prize. But I could think more clearly in the privacy of my room. “I think that is best.” I grabbed my shoes from where I'd dropped them on the floor and headed for the door.

Titus was there.

As oblivious as I had been. Would he care if Yale handed me over to the aliens in a political exchange? I stepped into the merriment.

Titus popped off the wall. “You look strange.” He eyed the wooden door beyond my back.

"Did someone do something I should take care of?"

"No. I just need to lie down.” Forget waiting for Titus's interrogation to continue. I headed for the stairs.

Titus didn't miss one of my footsteps. He kept at my side in attentive fatherly mode.

"Lorelei,” he whispered as we took the stairs, loud enough I could hear over the music, “Lord

Yale will not be happy if you need a doctor."

I waved him off. “It's just a stomach bug. The doctor can't do anything. I promise to drink lots of water."

He snorted. “Why are you so argumentative?"

When he learned after I was handed over, would he understand? Would he wish he had helped me? Was he even my friend? Did I have any friends? God, did they all know about the placation date and the girl?

The obliging shadows shrouding the upper steps didn't alleviate my fears.

How am I going to escape with Titus at every turn?

After eating odds and ends scattered around the rooms on trays left in strategic places,

Brutus descended into the basement to find Shifters with similar attitudes about the frenzied

Normals and their celebration. Or something that could hold a man's interest beyond sleep.

After the beauty retired to her room, there wasn't anything left to study upstairs anyway.

She'd probably been as sickened by the night's events as I am.

Not likely. But the thought was entertaining.

"Welcome, Brutus,” Caesar shouted through the muted lamplight of a few strategically placed hurricane lamps.

Over the faint noise a floor above us, muted by the thick floor, the lead Shifter's elevated voice tattled about how he'd had a few too many drinks. I nodded at the grinning clan head of New Pittsburgh's Shifters foolish to live their entire lives employed in Yale's service. His graying straight red hair hung long and loose to brush his muscled shoulders.

Unshaven. His hair a symbol of his status as clan head.

Caesar headed toward me from the large room ringed with folding chairs filled with his kin.

He hoisted a mug of beer high and hooked me over with a finger. “Come. Join us. Tell us news of New York."

Something bothered me. “There's little news, Caesar."

Something deep down. In my wolf. Kept me roaming. And if everyone wanted to call it undiluted prejudice against Normals, they could go ahead. A man would be a fool to trust the people his parents trusted only to find their betrayal and death was at the hands of their

Normal friends.

Play, Wolf whined.

For Beauty. Wolf would just have to suffer. If I didn't stay and ride back to New York with

Lord Drake's nephews, I'd receive no payment. Money came easy for Shifters. Still, they had to provide a service before pocketing the coin. One would think when Caesar resembled my father, the red hair and pleasant expressions, I'd want to linger. To bond with something.

Even a Shifter.

Find her, Wolf growled.

Damned dogmatic animal. Wolf needed to get control of his cock. A Shifter knew his inner beast would need to put a leash on his Wolf in that regard. Or he'd wind up with a mate he'd have to protect. That meant forget about roaming. I'd be settled. Mated. To a Normal most likely since only a few Cougars were known to exist. Time to get as far away from New

Pittsburgh as I could. Tonight just wasn't in the cards.

"Did Drake find his daughter Sylvie?” Caesar stepped to my side and asked.

"No.” That woman would never be found after she mated a Shifter.

"Come then. There's plenty of Yale's beer to go around."

All the Shifters eyed me now. I'd have to drink with them. Acknowledge we are all the same, shape shifters, members of an alien-induced brotherhood, despised by Normals who relied on us for protection.

Still, the air felt hot, stifling. Made me itch to be outside under the full moon. Running in my wolf skin. I grabbed a cool mug nonetheless and settled in leaning against a supportive wall for an hour or two of bullshit.

Gossip always panned out the same way. Fools running through the night in hopes of escaping the warlord's cities and being found tangled in the barbed wire surrounding city perimeters at dawn. Nothing good came of these stories. Normals bleeding to death. Sliced in the wrong places. Or dead, partially mauled by hungry Bounders kept outside the city by the barrier fencing. Not pretty thoughts. But a Shifter couldn't blame a Normal for attempting to escape the insanity of a city or its warlord, even when risking being killed by an alien demon starving for human flesh. Bounders were left to cull those Normals stupid enough to dare venturing out after sunset. Running for freedom. Those were the few Normal souls a Shifter could relate to

in the end. However, all the tales just made my Wolf itch for fresh night air and claw the inside of my ribcage for acknowledgement.

Well, Wolf did the clawing. For her. The whimpering mutt. I plopped my empty mug on a wooden bar and shoved off the wall. “I think I'll head upstairs."

Caesar's brow arched. “You? The last Shifter to seek time among Normals?"

Hell. My actions looked insulting. “My Wolf wants to roam."

Caesar nodded knowingly. “Well, go then. You know where we are if you need another beer."

A shadowy hall led me deeper into Yale's subterranean world beneath his mansion, the type of underground twist of corridors and rooms where humans dwelled in order to avoid extraterrestrial extermination rays that obliterated living organisms with a touch, down to another Shifter standing in a doorway. One I'd spent many years working with when I left my father's clan at eighteen. Back when Shifters reaching the age of manhood could choose to travel in hopes of finding a mate and associated work among a different gene pool. Nero hadn't stayed away long though. I had nothing to return to. “Hello, Nero."

The tall smiling warrior shifted a black combat boot my direction, shoving off the doorframe.

"Brutus! How many years has it been?"

Not enough when having to work at Normal functions. “Too long."

The man's camouflage crept as if it were alive in the soft glow of the hurricane lamp mounted on the wall. He snatched me up in a bear hug.

One I couldn't ignore. Hell, we'd seen some crazy shit together. I patted his shoulders.

He shoved back a step. “Do you remember when we chased those wild dogs out of the chicken coop at Spinster Sally's?"