Crave the Night (4 page)

There were too many “ifs.” If she could pull
it off. If her magic didn’t fail. If her enemy kept to his half of
the deal. If it all worked out, she could go home knowing her
family would be safe. If not . . .

The phone rang and she started upright,
heart racing. The backlit caller ID read “Masterson. Cell.”

The
boss
.
He who had
threatened—still threatened—everything and everyone she held
dear.
The enemy
.

Her pulse hammered in her ears. Every time
Masterson called, she worried he would renege on his part of their
deal and bring everything crashing down. Fey charms were useless on
the man. She would have had to dress up like a net profit to make
her seduction spells work.

Suddenly needing the comfort of light, Lila
switched on the lamp before picking up the receiver. “Lila
Wilding.”

“
Progress?”

That was how he started every call. And like
every time, her tongue was suddenly sandpaper. “Um. Well, sir, I
acquired a new guest tonight.”

“
How many does that make? What use is
he?”

Lila put the situation in terms a shark like
Masterson could understand. “He has the means to persuade others.
He’s valuable to the wolves.”

“
Why?”

“
He’s the son of their
king.”

“
Then make it happen. You’re almost
out of time.”

The line went dead in her hand. Lila took a
deep breath, and let it out in a sigh. Masterson was right about
the ticking clock. The year and a day she had to work a miracle was
almost up.

Oberon’s balls!
Rafe Devries wasn’t going to betray his Pack. Her instincts
said he was far too stubborn.

But nothing was as tricky as a fey.

And no fey was as desperate as Lila.

The house had been built on a slope, leaving
half the basement—mostly utility rooms—with plenty of light. In the
other, windowless half were chambers equally useful but far less
ordinary. At the end of a long hallway, deep under the earth, were
the darkest places. Lila walked down the corridor toward her
prisoner, wishing she’d thought to bring a sweater. It was cold and
damp.

Lila slowed as she neared her destination.
Rafe was alone in the cell. She could see everything, since the
door of the room was made of bars like a cage at the zoo. He
slumped on the edge of the hard single bed, pulling on his socks.
Evidently, her servants had reunited him with his clothes. A pity,
but she had to admit beefcake wasn’t quite the same with
goosepimples.

Her irreverent thought vanished as he looked
up, dark eyes smoky with anger. He had the typical werewolf looks:
dark springy hair, high cheekbones, narrow jaw, straight nose. He
was tall for his kind, but lean. Wolves moved like coiled springs,
all edgy tension that filled a room even when they were completely
still. Despite their civilized facade, it paid to remember they
were still wild beasts.

“
What do you want?” he asked, his
voice husky with resentment.

“
Your co-operation, wolf.”

“
Try ‘please.’ There’s an old human
saying that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” He
pulled on his other sock, then started on the boot.

Irritation pricked at Lila. She’d grown used
to the adoration of the males she’d held captive. His indifference
chafed. “Then how do I catch wolves? Something squirmy from the pet
shop, or will a raw flank steak do the trick?”

He gave her a look that made her regret her
words. Attitude wasn’t going to get her very far with this
specimen. He finished with the boots and stood up, dusting his
hands on his jeans. “You don’t know a thing about us, do you?”

Not much
.
Then again, the wolves probably thought
she
was the villain. Secrecy had its down
side.
You think you’ve got problems,
wolfman. Try some of mine
.

She folded her arms. “So then tell me.”

He paced, quick, restless steps. “What?”

“
Anything. Do all your people live in
Wolf Creek?”

“
We’re ranchers. Where else would we
be?”

She shrugged. “Just asking. You don’t seem
the type to spend your days chasing cows.”

“
We’re not like the urban Packs. The
Devries wolves don’t do appletinis and book clubs.”

“
Yoga?”

“
Not so much.” His words were clipped
with impatience. “Now it’s my turn to ask something. What did you
do with Wyatt and Tom?”

“
I sent them home with your vampire
friend.”

“
To die of broken hearts,” he snarled.
“
La Belle Dame sans
Merci
.”

The name meant beautiful, pitiless woman.
Bloody hell, she hated that poem. “No, of course not. I took the
spell off. They’ll bounce back.”

“
How very generous of you.”

“
I’m not a monster.” His look said
otherwise, and she felt herself flush.

He raised an eyebrow. “Why did you take them
in the first place?”

“
To prove a point. To scare you. I
have power. I can glamor the wolves whenever I please.”

“
Not all of us.”  He stalked back
and forth, looking more like a caged tiger. “That’s why you put the
others to sleep. Those are our leaders. Those with Alpha blood.
Your charm is powerful, but not enough to control a very strong
will. Easier to knock them out.”

He was right and by the look on his
face, he enjoyed finding a weakness. She wasn’t going to add to his
satisfaction by telling him that the others had come far closer to
surrender than he. His will was forged of an iron she could not
break.
So far, anyway. I’m not out of
the game yet.

She kept her own voice ice-cold. “They might
be stubborn, but not smart. They were easy enough to lure
here.”

He matched her chilly look with one of his
own. “But once your victims arrived, you couldn’t get them to sign
over their land. Not even to save their friends.”

When she didn’t answer, he went on. “Once
they knew what you were after, you couldn’t let them warn the rest
of Wolf Creek. So you put your victims to sleep, turning them into
hostages until you’re ready to make your move. Since the individual
approach didn’t work, you’re going to force the whole town to give
in. Our land for our Alphas. And you want me to be your mouthpiece
in this hellish blackmail.”

Lila folded her arms. He’d figured it
out.
Smart wolf
. “When the
time comes, your people will awaken with no ill
effects.”

“
They’re bargaining chips.”

“
More or less.”

“
What a wonderful Alpha bitch you
would make.”

“
I assume you mean that
literally.”

“
You’ve already got there
metaphorically.”

“
I’m a quick study.” She gave him a
thin smile. “And I’m not going to spend all night trading insults.
I have better things to do with my time. Let’s get down to
business.”

“
Fine.” He whirled mid-pace,
frustration contorting his features. “What can I do to end
this?”

“
When I get Wolf Creek, you get your
people back. Your daddy gets his heir back. Like you said, you’re
my mouthpiece.”

The muscles in his jaw twitched with anger.
“That’s not going to happen. I won’t do it.”

Lila kept her cool. As long as he was
emotional and she wasn’t, she had the upper hand. “I’ve been
patient, but the clock is ticking.”

“
What’s the rush?”

She shrugged. It wasn’t any of his
affair.

 “
Well?” he repeated.

She looked at him through the bars, still
wondering how the hell she was going to persuade him to fall into
line with her plans. She’d be smart to put a few cards on the
table. “I represent the Masterson Group.”

The name made him recoil. Well, at least
they had that feeling in common.

Then a look of understanding washed over his
face, as if he were connecting a whole lot of dots. His lip curled,
the human version of a wolf’s snarl. “They’ve been around here
before, doing geological surveys. There’s a notion Wolf Creek is
sitting on an oil field.”

“
Your families were the original
homesteaders. You still hold the mineral rights.”

Rafe gave a single nod. “So let’s get this
part out of the way: I know oil companies lease the right to drill
in return for a cut of the profits. We’re not interested.”

“
If we can’t lease the rights, then we
have to force you to sell.”

“
Good luck with that.”

Lila curled her hands around the silver
bars, exasperation making her want to bang her head against them.
She’d had this conversation with every one of the sleepers
upstairs. Even charmed right off their paws, she couldn’t make them
sign their land away. “You could be rich and still keep your
ranches. Be reasonable. Do it for the sake of your people.”

Rafe glowered, stalking back and forth just
the other side of the bars. She could feel his body heat as he
passed. “Rich in human terms. We’re wolves. We don’t look at things
the same way.”

She gave the bars a shake. “Then change your
perspective, Mr. Devries.”

“
Money isn’t everything. You don’t
rent out your home so that some oil guys can wheel up a drilling
rig and suck the life out of it. It’s a violation of everything
that matters to us.”

Frustration grated along her nerves. She
turned from him, now pacing herself as she waved a dismissive hand.
“Oh, come now, I’ve heard of werewolves who live in downtown
apartments. Their idea of a good hunt is finding a drive-through
window.”

Rafe kicked the bars, his heavy boot making
them ring like the bell from the Tower of Doom. The sound made her
flinch.

“
We’re good, old-fashioned,
howl-at-the-moon varmints, and we like our grass green and our
water pure. Each Pack member might own his or her mineral rights,
but it was decided long ago, the first time the oil barons began
sniffing around our land, that we’ll move together. Either the
whole Pack agrees to a deal, or none of us do. And we
won’t.”

Wolves and their
territory
. It was starting to make a weird kind of
sense. “So you say.” Her bottom lip curved into what she hoped
looked like a knowing smile. “I say you’ll change your
mind.”

“
And what do you get for all your
efforts?” Now he stepped close to the bars, peering down at her
from beneath a lock of dark, curling hair. “What’s Masterson paying
you to destroy us?”

She gave him a long, considering look. He
was too raw, too real for games. She could feel his presence like a
gathering storm. “There are a lot of us praying he keeps his
word.”

His brow knitted, his anger morphing to
something else. “Who is ‘us’? What did he promise you?”

That look undid her. It was too close to
sympathy. Pain caught in her throat and she looked away, the lights
suddenly too bright.

Though the touch of the silver-coated bars
must have been painful, he reached between them, grasping her hand
in his. “Lila, are you in trouble, too?”

Like all the wolves, he ran hot. Her fey
senses swam with imagery carried in his touch—racing through the
woods on all fours, the hot grit of desert sand, the notion that,
despite her magic more than because of it, he thought she was
beautiful.

She pulled away. The warm shadow of
his grip tingled on her skin, reawakening the image of his naked
body. Her mouth suddenly ran dry with unexpected desire, an
electric need that pulsed through every nerve.
I want him.
I must be
mad
.

She looked up, seeing the same uninvited
interest in the set of his mouth. His nostrils flared slightly, as
if he were catching and memorizing her scent.

The moment stretched on and on. They were
enemies and yet he’d reached out. That deserved a response.

If only she could give one. She lowered her
gaze, staring at the toes of her shoes. When she spoke, her voice
was listless, almost sad. “My business isn’t yours, wolf, but I
thank you for asking.”

Imagery flickered through her mind, a
montage of her childhood: Gilden Woods, rolling in the grass with
her sisters, the snow on their house the year the elk nearly walked
right through the front door.

She blinked, and she was back in the cold
basement of the white-on-white prison that magic built. She was
here because she was in a fight to the death—and not just for
herself.

Now there was pity in the wolf’s eyes.
Somehow he’d caught a glimpse of the real battle.

Lila grabbed for her defenses, pulling them
around her like a protective blanket. Maybe pity was the key to
winning Rafe Devries over. With a sad story and some hand-wringing,
maybe she could get him to convince his Pack to sell after all.

A wave of nausea caught the back of
her throat.
How low are you going to
stoop before this is over? Who is the real beast here?

She turned and strode away before he saw her
cry.

Lila hurried back upstairs, but not to her
office. She slipped out the door to the poolside patio, feeling the
cool summer night through the silky fabric of her blouse. The
mountain air had the same snap as a crisp apple, bright and alive
with energy.