Chapter Seven:
The panther knew he couldn't
stay away from the young girl, no matter how hard he tried. Once the sun settled in the afternoon sky,
the day after their encounter at the river’s bank, he was off again, desperate
to find her.
He was glad he did.
In the same location
as she’d been the day before, Lexa was alone, camera in hand, her father,
mother and brother already far ahead by a good quarter mile on their own trek. The panther could see that she stood on a
tall rock, leaning too far over for her own good, trying to take a picture of a
couple of purple finches nesting on a thin tree branch.
He came closer and sat
on the ground nearby, careful not to scare her, to keep her from her
concentration.
Lexa narrowed her eyes
at the birds’ sudden change in behavior.
Something was making them nervous.
As she turned slowly, her eyes scanning, she spotted him. The big cat had returned. And she couldn't be happier.
With a gasp, she
smiled at him. “You
again.”
The panther began to
purr, praying she would come and pet him like she’d done the day before. He wanted to come to her, but he smelled the
presence of other people nearby.
“Daddy said you were a
panther, I had to look it up in my nature book.
He said you’re dangerous, but I don’t think you are.” She said, her voice kind and soothing.
The panther took a
chance and came a little closer, purring louder.
“Its okay, come
on. I still owe you a sandwich. Its just bologna, but it’s good…if you want,
I can scratch your ears again, you seemed to like…”
Then it happened.
The birds, sensing
danger from the panther, flew away quickly and in their haste, startled Lexa so
much she spun around on her heels. She
let out a squeal, as she grabbed for the branch to catch herself, but it was
not strong enough. She fell into the
water, head first.
But not before her
skull hit the side of the rock.
The panther watched
helplessly as Lexa lay unconscious, face down in the shallow water. He knew she’d die right there in front of his
eyes. And that, he simply couldn't
accept.
He risked all and shot
down into the small valley to the bank, even knowing the nearby people were
close enough that he could be spotted, but he had to save her. With his large mouth, he grabbed at the
collar of her t-shirt and pulled her out of the water, nudging her over onto
her back. He looked down at her. She was unconsciously gasping for breath,
choking on the water she’d inhaled into her lungs. He began licking at her
cheek furiously. He growled, baring his
long, sharp canines. He bit at her arms and legs gently, just nipping in hopes
of waking her up. Unfortunately, his
teeth grazed her skin, causing her to bleed, something he couldn't help, but it
was an act that would unravel him forever.
He tasted her blood.
The unmistakable
sweet, saltiness was now a part of him.
It sealed their bond, he would forever be hers.
She would forever be
his.
But that was not the
worst of his problems. Voices now
started to shout, a woman screamed and people poured over the rocks toward
him. He was trapped, and with her blood
on his muzzle.
Then, fire.
_______________________________________
Everything seemed to swirl on the computer screen the longer Lexa stared at it, trying to get some work done.
It was the end of March and everyone at the home office of Modern Botanist Magazine was buzzing over talk of an early spring after the whole month had been unusually warm. With hardly any snow worth mentioning, half of her co-workers were taking time off to enjoy it after the harsh, wintry January and February they’d been through.
All but Lexa.
She was too busy and too distracted to think of vacation.
Fully recovered from what everyone had playfully coined, “Mini Survivor, Quebec,” she had gotten back to her life and her work for the most part, other than perhaps she was more cautious, much more aware of her body, not letting a sniffle turn into anything more before contacting a doctor. That, she surmised could be an advantage, as long as she didn’t succumb to paranoia or worse yet, hypochondria.
She took the playful jokes from her Mom, her fifteen minutes of semi-fame from friends and co-workers, but even that all eventually went away.
Until a few days ago.
Suddenly, questions she had laid to rest began to linger in her head again. Perhaps she would never be able to figure out how she seemingly slept away five days in her car, with no food or water and sick as a dog. At least for that she could be grateful, not remembering being so sick. Yet, by the same token, she did want answers. She peeked at the memory card from her camera she was now lazily holding in her fingers. The pictures from that day in Rawdon. She wasn’t sure why, but she never downloaded them.
And she has yet to go back.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Tasha stuck her head in the door with a laugh, “if you sit staring like that, your brain will freeze.”
“Uh?” Lexa finally looked up at her.
“Martin passed by. He asked me to tell you that Zander really wants those pictures from The Botanical Gardens you took on Monday.” She came in and sat down across from Lexa’s desk, brushing sandwich crumbs off of her blue scrubs. Her usual routine during her lunch break from the hospital.
“Pictures. Oh. Yeah, I have them up, I just need to send them to him.”
“Oh, that’s good then,” she paused a second to take a drink of her tea before continuing, “well I heard from your Mom that Sammy will be heading home around June, that’s good news.”
“Yes. He emailed me. His mission service ends around the end of April and before he starts the next tour, he wants to come home and visit for a few weeks.” Lexa answered her rather placidly, staring back at the screen while twisting a curl around her finger.
Something she always did when she was worried.
Tasha could only stare. Normally, a potential visit from her younger brother would have her practically dancing in the street. No one had seen Sammy face to face in nearly three years, only keeping contact by sparse email correspondences once or twice a year. But today, it seemed as if her friend couldn't care less.
“Bobby and I wanted to know what your plans were for the
weekend; we thought about going to
“Skiing? I don’t know if I’m in the mood.”
“You okay?” she finally asked. Same question she’d been asking for days now, with the same response.
“I’m fine.”
“Lexa, you’re gonna have to talk to me. You’ve been distracted all damn week, I mean much more so than usual. Ever since you got back from the Botanical Gardens shoot.”
“Really Tash, I’ve…”
“Sammy is coming home and you say it with as much enthusiasm as you would an impending rectal exam. C’mon Lex…you’re turning into a slug.”
She sighed. Tasha was right. She was always right.
“I’ve just been thinking.”
“About what?”
“What happened to me in Rawdon. The car and all.”
“Yeah, sure. It’s natural that you’d do that. It was a traumatic situation.”
“Yes I know, but…”
“But what?”
Lexa took a big, deep breath, not sure how it would sound, but she knew if she didn’t come out and say it, it would eat at her, “Tash. I don’t think I stayed in the car for the whole five days.”
Tasha’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“You remember that Doctor Burns? That whole business about the morphine and the white cell count. How did I get morphine if I never left the car?”
“I don’t know, I mean his results could have been wrong, tainted. He seemed to accept your answer and he never mentioned it again.”
“Maybe, maybe not. I mean, I would have thought so, until Monday.”
“What happened Monday?”
“When I went to take pictures of the Exhibition Hall at the gardens, there was a waterfall there, I could hear it trickling.” She pointed to a picture she’d downloaded off her other memory card, “See here?”
Tasha leaned in to see it, “Beautiful, so?”
“At first I didn’t think anything of it, but as I was driving home, I kept flashing on a picture in my mind. The sight of a waterfall, but covered in snow and almost frozen, so just a little bit of water trickled from it.”
“As many times as you’ve seen snow covered waterfalls, I don’t see…”
“That’s the thing. I’d never seen this particular waterfall before. I couldn't hear anything and I wasn’t outside, I was viewing this through what seemed to be glass.”
“Like a door or window?”
“Yes.” Lexa turned back to Tasha from the computer screen.
“It could be anything…”
“And the dreams.” She interrupted.
“You’ve been having dreams?”
“Oh yes I’ve been dreaming since Monday about a room. A room with dark walls. And…” she paused as she recalled the sketchy elements, “…there’s a huge, carved wood bed with a patchwork quilt. And there’s a fireplace with a fire lit inside it. Oh, and there’s a rocking chair too, right by a window.”
A big fan of dream analysis, that made Tasha sit straight up.
“Does anything happen in this dream?”
“Nothing happens, that’s what’s so strange about it. It’s quiet; my eyes just view the room. I’m warm and I feel safe, then I wake up.”
“Jesus, Lexa.”
“I know.”
“You make it sound like you were abducted by aliens. Aliens with great decorating sense.”
Lexa burst out laughing, knowing how awfully ridiculous it all must sound to Tasha. But to her, it’s the only thing that seemed logical since she returned home.
“So because of this, you think someone just came and got you, gave you morphine and put you back in the car?”
“I know it sounds far fetched, but…”
“Of course it does. First off, if someone found you, why didn’t they call the police?”
“I don’t know, maybe they couldn’t, maybe like me, their cell died.”
“Yes, that’s plausible.”
“Plus, you heard what Dr. Burns said, there was no way my white cell count would have dropped that dramatically after five days in the car.”
“It’s not totally unheard of, you slept most of the time, you’re strong, healthy and young.”
“I know Tash, but the morphine. I mean if I didn’t leave the car, how did I get it? What else could it be?”
With all the seriousness she could muster, Tasha leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees and looked right into her friend’s worried eyes.
“I’m taking bets on the aliens.”
__________________________________________
Two days later…
The more days, weeks that passed, the more convinced Erik became that he had succeeded in his efforts to make Lexa forget her time in the cabin.
And forget about him.
He really thought he could get over her. What a fool he’d been. The past two months without her has been sheer agony for a man who knew nothing but control and detached, cold aloofness. The shift from human to animal was not solely determined by strong emotions such as longing, love, or lust, but they were certainly driving forces. Now, with Lexa still so close to his mind, viewing her as if she was standing right in front of him, it was all he could do to control the deep, dark urge.
Erik’s body ached so much on days like this he could almost lay down and die, but even with shaking hands, he kept enough of his wits to give himself yet another injection of morphine. That would ease the pain, at least until he made the next change. Unfortunately, his urge to roam was beginning to exceed his body’s capacity to handle it, thus forcing more of the narcotic. He knew if he kept it up, he would soon grow addicted. And not just to the morphine.
He looked down at the palms of his hands, scratched, almost bloody from his intense running in the woods practically every night now, almost two hours longer than normal. He knew Katrine worried about him, Darren too. Kind people, loyal employees, but they would never be able to understand. No, he told himself as he clamped his fists, he couldn't stop, but he must slow down.
He walked into his office and picked up the papers Darren had dropped off earlier. More work. He couldn't concentrate on work, sketches, the lines and numbers running together so much he couldn't make sense of it. He rubbed his eyes and wondered if he ever would be able to be in control of anything again.
He was an architect.
He’d always loved creating, designing buildings, tall structures ever
since he was a young child back in
“Monsieur?” Darren gently knocked on the door.
He kept his gaze out the window but said a gentle, “Enter.”
Darren entered but stayed by the door. “Monsieur, your magazine.”
Erik turned sharply, but he was not angry, just pleasantly surprised. “So soon? It’s not supposed to be out until Friday.”
“I found someone in the city who had some earlier copies out this time.” Only then did Darren come further inside and lay the magazine, Modern Botanist, down on his employer’s desk. Then, with a soft smirk, he said, “Pages forty-one through forty-eight.”
And he left without another word.
Erik walked to the desk and picked up the magazine. While he was fascinated with botany and considered himself a bit of a green thumb, the rugged landscape of his home only allowed for a few well kept potted plants here and there. But he knew, and so did Darren, that was not his reason for acquiring the magazine. Why he’d inquired it for the past two months.
He quickly thumbed to page forty-one and stared at the
beautiful pictures of the Botanical Gardens in
Photographs by: Alexis
Gordon
He sighed deeply, marveling at what a wonderful eye she had for nature, her talent for capturing even the most simplest of details with such flair. Alike the two of them were, he felt. Both had an eye for detail, both dedicated to their work, both were lovers of nature, both were…
Lonely.
He ran his hand through hair as he threw down the magazine with a deep groan. He began to pace again. It might have been an accident of fate that they bonded in blood, but it was no accident she was as lonely as he was. Although she didn’t know it, she belonged to him and deep inside, she would choose no one else but him. He saw it even during her short stay. Saw her become accustomed to his voice, her eyes fighting to see him in the darkened room. Her voice, asking him to stay. If he was a different man, he would have kept her there, told her the truth, loved her as she deserved to be loved, had her bear his children. But he was not like other men. He was a deformed monster, a creature so devoid of emotion, so lacking of human contact that he had to pay women to satisfy his most basic lustful needs.
But he hadn’t even bothered to do that since seeing Lexa again.
No, he would never subject Lexa to that kind of life. He couldn’t let the bloodline continue, he couldn't let another generation suffer.
He was the last and by keeping the woman he most desired away, he knew he was sealing that fact, for good.
____________________________________________________
“What in the blue hell?” Lexa exclaimed, staring at her home computer screen in shock at what should have been her photographs of that early January visit to Rawdon.
Memory card is empty. The words blinked off and on, almost
mocking her.
She double checked, triple checked the card but found not one photograph. She wasn’t stupid or forgetful; she knew the card had been in there. Thirty-six pictures, she remembered taking each and every one.
No, they weren’t corrupted, they simply vanished.
As if they’d never existed to begin with.
When the phone rang, she gave it a half hearted snort and
waited for the answering machine to pick up.
It was Tasha, she was sure, or Bobby, informing her they’d returned from
And they never will be.
Not since she remembered the voice.
Two nights ago, she’d dreamed the same dream as in all the other nights, sitting by a window, looking out onto a frozen river, but this time something broke the silence.
A man’s voice. It was dark and soothing and said only one simple thing…
…we are one.
The answering machine beeped, then a voice spoke into it, a voice she hadn’t heard in four months.
“Hi sweetheart. Uh…I know it’s been a while since we spoke, but…well, I’ve been thinking about you and…I know things didn’t end on the right note and all. Could you give me a call when you can? Perhaps we could meet for lunch downtown?” A pause, then, “I miss you.”
David.
“That’s all I need.” She scowled as she went to the machine and erased the message.
The bastard. It had taken her nearly a month to stop crying over him leaving her. All because she couldn't have children. It wasn’t her fault. She’d finally gotten up the nerve to break the news to him one night after they’d made love. She’d tried to explain the problems, the endometriosis, the ovarian cysts, the family history of cancer, but he wasn’t swayed. He blurted out that she was lying, that women don’t get hysterectomies in their late twenties. He told her he hadn’t asked her to marry him to go headlong into a childless marriage, that adoption was out. Then he said she’d better make a choice, agree to have children or he’d leave her for good.
He left that night and since then, he’d refused to see her or take her calls.
Until now.
She angrily plopped down on the couch, her mind full of thoughts she could no longer control. Damn David, damn that stupid memory card. Damn the car, the snowbank, the cell phone…
The angrier she became, the more things became clearer and clearer…
…arms wrapped around
her body, shaking, sweating…the taste of whisky…a woman with dark red hair…
je m’appelle….je m’appelle….Kat...
Katrine!
“Oh my God!” she almost screamed as it started to make some sense to her. But then, just as quickly as they came, they died away. The more she tried to remember, the more stressed she got. She had to relax and concentrate, she had to…
…she ran for the phone to do the craziest thing she’d ever thought of.
Chapter Eight:
Later that day, as Tasha sat in the back of the room for support, Lexa stared at a beautiful blue jeweled pendant dangling before her eyes. Although, it was not easy to look away from Arcadia Moonflower’s (Lexa was certain that couldn’t possibly be her real name) multi-colored long frock, complete with matching headband that held back her braided, graying hair, she did her best. A kind woman, but she looked as if she walked right in from a sixties war protest.
“Alright, Lexa, just relax and concentrate on the pendant,”
“That’s it, just concentrate on the sound of my voice and
let yourself relax.”
She was right. Within
minutes, Lexa was in a blissful state of calm,
The therapist turned to Tasha. “She can hear you if you wish to ask her questions, just remember, keep your voice an even, low tone.”
With a smile, Tasha came forward. She’d always wanted to ask someone questions under hypnosis and even toyed with the notion of planting a post hypnotic suggestion, or simply having her cluck like a chicken. Unfortunately, now was not the time.
“Okay Lex, do you see anything?”
“No.” Lexa answered lazily, her voice seemingly far away to her own ears.
“Let me start it.”
“I left the car to try and find help. I couldn't use the cell.”
“What happened then?” Tasha asked.
A picture began to form in Lexa’s mind and her brows furrowed. “Cold, so damn cold…”
“It’s alright, you’re seeing only pictures, like a movie,
you can’t feel anything, just tell us what you see.”
“I managed to get out of the car. Oh, stupid rock!”
“What happened?”
“The bumper, I hit the bumper on a big rock, it’s scratched up. Damn…” she groaned, “It’s only a year old.”
Tasha giggled slightly, “Lexa, let’s not think about the car now. Just tell us what you did next, what’d you see?”
“It’s snowy, I can’t see hardly anything. Just a few trees. I can’t find the road. I walked a long way, my legs were numb and…I knew I was going to die, then nothing.”
“What’s the next thing you remember?”
“I was warm again. There’s an arm around me…”
“Whose is it, Lex?”
“Don’t know. Then…I see the woman, she spoke French…Katrine is her name and a man, his name is…”
Lexa fell silent as the images suddenly dissipated. Inside her mind, she was feeling it was pointless. Maybe she was crazy, maybe it was just….
Then she gasped. She could taste something in her mouth.
“What is it?”
“I taste…. curry and cinnamon, it hurts to swallow. I can feel a soft material on my body.”
“Are you in the blue walled room?” Tasha asked her as she sat closer, thoroughly interested now.
“I don’t know, I can’t…I can’t see anything…”
“Look around. Force
your eyes to scan your surroundings, you can do it, take your time.”
Look around…she coaxed herself. She did just that.
The first thing that came into focus was that she was wearing a long, white nightgown. The young woman with dark red hair wore a uniform of some sort. She could see sunlight suddenly flood the room. Mahogany carved furniture, the quilted bedcover, all of that from her previous dream, but more vivid this time. No longer a dream, but a memory.
“Oh God, I remember…”
Over the next half hour, Lexa recalled every single detail
of that room and the conversation with the kind maid who had worked for a
mysterious, faceless man for eight years with such clarity that all
But even then as Lexa was awakened, feeling immediately validated, she was nowhere close to peaceful. She remembered Katrine, remembered the tall, pale man named Darren, but she couldn't remember their employer, the man named Erik Renault, the man she was almost sure was the one who had told her they were one. And that wasn’t nearly enough.
______________________________________
The phone rang just as Lexa was shutting the door after
watching
Lexa was well aware of that very fact, which is why she chose to take the call.
“Yeah?” she said, not even bothering to check the caller ID.
“Sweetness.”
Lexa groaned and Tasha narrowed her eyes, mouthing, “Who is it?”
“Hello, David.” She said into the phone. That answered Tasha’s question.
“How are you, gorgeous?” he asked.
She’d almost forgotten how smooth he could sound on the phone, how confident, how utterly arrogant. God, how she hated arrogant men.
“I’m okay, and we can dispense with the ‘gorgeous’ talk.”
Tasha stuck her finger in her mouth and made a retching noise and Lexa popped her on the leg.
“Sorry. Did you get my voice mail this morning?”
“Uh, yes, just a few minutes ago, actually,” she lied, “I was going to call.”
Tasha looked as if she was going to faint, but Lexa just shook her head.
“That’s great. I thought, well…I’m not busy tonight, how about I take you to dinner? If I recall, I still owe you a night out at Sho Dan.”
Sho Dan, her favorite place for sushi. The place where they always had dinner on Saturday night, the place where they’d planned to go that night. The night he walked out. She hadn’t been back.
“Umm…I don’t know David. I have plans tonight, but thanks for asking.” She told him, but this time, it was not a lie.
“Well, what about tomorrow for lunch?”
She groaned, “David, please. I have plans tomorrow, I’m…”
“Tuesday then?” he sounded almost desperate, “Look, I just want to have the opportunity to apologize, set things straight between us. I said some things I shouldn’t have.”
Her eyes closed and she let out a long, lingering breath. If all he wanted to do was apologize, she could do that, and besides, if she got a free meal out of it, all the better. “Okay, Tuesday. Lunch only.”
“Great. Pick you up
at
“Yeah, see you then.”
____________________________________
Two hours had passed before Lexa actually stopped and thought of what she was doing. At least the ringing cell phone succeeded in bringing her back to her senses. She slammed on the brakes and her car skidded to a halt, almost going off the dirt road into some bushes.
She was in Rawdon. Again.
“Hello?” she asked exasperatingly.
“Hello!”
“Tash?”
“Yeah, where are you?”
“I can’t hear you.” she practically shouted, changing her angle in hopes of getting a better signal.
“Good lord woman, I said, where are you? I can barely hear a word you’re saying.” Tasha’s voice managed to seep in through as bad static started to subside.
She wanted to berate the cheap piece of plastic she called a cell phone. “Uh, yeah. I’m in Rawdon.”
A pause.
“Tash? You there?”
“You’re looking for that house, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“So that crack to David about being busy tonight was not a lie. You knew all along you were going.”
“Yes, ever since
“I’ve seen this before in you. You’re obsessed.”
“I really don’t have the time to hear you trying to talk me out of this.”
That in itself was true enough. She started thinking of a million reasons to try and convince Lexa to dispense with the search. It was too dangerous? Yes, but Lexa was a born risk taker. It was futile? Nope, that wouldn’t stop her either. If anything, it would make her search that much harder. She might come up empty handed? Perhaps, but knowing Lexa the way she did, if there was something there, she would find it. So, all she could end up answering was, “Okay, fine, but please be careful this time and call me tonight when you get home.”
She threw her cell into her purse and laid her head on the steering wheel, almost in tears. Damn it all, Tasha was right. She was becoming obsessed, determined to find the mysterious house and the people inside it, if anything, just to prove to everyone she wasn’t crazy.
Or was it simply to prove it to herself?
But with no frame of reference, it was literally like finding a needle in a haystack. The more small, almost impassible dirt roads she traveled, the more endless they became. But it wasn’t like she’d never been to Rawdon before. She’d lost count of how many times she’d been this particular way, so if there was one thing she was sure of, she was close to where she had been taking the photographs, the area much more familiar to her without all the snow. Perhaps backtracking made more sense than searching.
Get yourself together,
Lexa…
“Okay, now, I remember that part of the river.” She spoke out loud to herself, trying to sort it all out. “I took a picture of the ice on it. Then…” she sighed, “I came back to the car and I started out…this way,” she pointed in the direction her car was already heading. Feeling enough of a good start, she put the car in gear and drove down the small dirt road. “Now…I kept going this way trying to find the main road out, I know it’s right along here, but with the visibility being so bad that night, I…” she spotted the turn to the main road to her left and gasped, “Oh! That’s what happened, I missed it! The turn was obscured by snow…okay, calm down and think…” she continued on past the turn. “I kept going this way….” She continued to drive for what seemed like forever, going further and further into an area that she was sure she’d never been before. “I don’t see where….wait…” she slowed the car down as she spotted a deep bank that still had some remnants of snow and a large rock with what appeared to be red paint scrapings on it. She immediately pulled over and flew out of the car.
That was it! Right there on her front bumper, a scratch and small dent and missing red paint. “Dear God!” she exclaimed, almost ready to jump out of her skin.
Then she did the only thing she could do at that moment.
She started walking.
And she walked, and walked.
_________________________________________
“Crap, how far did I go that night?” she asked herself a half hour later, roaming almost aimlessly down into a valley. She huddled against the cold inside her warm coat, thankful the temperatures weren’t like they were that night. “Christ. You’d think it would be easy to spot a house…” she stopped dead, hearing something in the distance.
It was the sound of rushing water.
She started forward, renewed. Was this the waterfall she’d seen in her dream? Yes, it must be, it had to be. She couldn't come this far and go home empty-handed.
She walked far off any known walking trails now, frantically pushing past branches that mockingly slapped her face, stepping over tall, unforgiving rocks, all the time listening closely as the sound of the rushing water grew louder and louder.
Please, please let it
be there.
And when she finally came out into a small clearing and saw the sight before her, she burst into tears. It was the waterfall and it was exactly how she remembered it, but no longer snow covered and far less icy. She walked to the edge and looked down. She noted the sheer size of it and figured she must have viewed it from much further away, leading her to surmise that the room she had stayed in was not only higher up, but not as close by as she had hoped. She turned sharply and started to find a way out of the valley but it was not as easy as she first thought. She was down rather far and she spotted no easy way back up except the way she’d come.
“Katrine!!!” she called out as loud as she could, hoping against hope she’d be heard. “Darren?!” Perhaps they were close enough and could find her. “Darren?! It’s me, Lexa Gordon! Please, are you there? Anybody?!”
She waited patiently, shouting again at least three times before finally giving up, the only response to her cries was her own echo in the vast valley.
She turned back to the waterfall and sat down on one of the larger rocks, entranced by the beauty of it. So what if she was stuck. She knew she could retrace her steps and leave at anytime. She checked her watch and groaned. The sun would go down soon. If she was going to leave, she’d best do it soon. But she was far less upset now. She’d seen the waterfall and the river. One goal accomplished. She’d be back to try again, that fact, she was certain of. After all, if the waterfall was here, then surely the house had to be…somewhere.
“Again, me without my damn camera.” She complained loudly as she stood on the rock to get a better view, holding onto another rock ledge for support. That would be her luck, she quipped to herself, slip off the rock, fall into the water and drown. No one would ever know. Just like…
She stopped cold.
My God…
Just like that summer weekend at the campground when she was fourteen. They’d all blamed…oh, that dear sweet panther.
She remembered waking up to find herself in her own bed at
home. She also remembered the dull ache in her body and the sharp pain on the
side of her head.
“Lexa baby, I’m here.”
Her mother had said to her in that voice she always used when she was sick,
worried, or both. “You
hurting bad?”
She nodded, then watched as her mother reached for a bottle of Tylenol
and a glass of water that sat on her bedside table. “Just take this, the doctor said it would help.”
“When did we get
home?” she asked as she struggled to sit up.
“About two hours
ago. We chose not to take you to the
hospital, Dr. Adger came here instead. He said you would be fine, just really sore.
Considering what happened, you’re lucky.
That panther could have killed you.”
But Lexa knew
immediately, that’s not what had happened.
“But wait, Momma…the panther didn’t hurt me.”
“Yes, he did
sweetheart…” she answered her quickly, showing her the multiple scratches on
her arms and legs, a couple of deeper gashes bandaged tightly, “Your Daddy said
that you were fortunate he was just toying with you, these could have been much
worse.”
“But he didn’t, I know
he didn’t.”
“You’ve suffered a
head injury, sweetheart, I’m sure you don’t remember much…”
“I remember
everything, Momma!” she had shouted, but immediately clung to her aching head
with one hand.
“Lexa, calm down…lay
back, getting upset won’t help you.”
“But, you don’t
understand. I fell, that’s how I got
hurt.”
She saw her mother’s
expression freeze, staring right at her.
“I was…” Lexa started,
then paused, knowing this admission would get her into
trouble. She’d been told a hundred times
since she got her camera not to take risks to get a shot. But could she let them blame the
panther? “I got up on the rock to get a
picture of some purple finches…”
“Oh, Lexa, how many
times have we told you…?”
“I know Momma, but
please listen…the panther came back. I
turned around and saw him myself, but he sat on the rock, he never touched
me. The birds, I guess they got scared
or something ‘cause they flew off and I got startled, then I slipped.”
“And the panther never
made a move towards you?”
“No, I was gonna offer him my sandwich, but I fell before he came to
take it.”
“Your arms and legs,
though, baby…I know what we saw, it was biting at you, growling.”
Lexa could only shrug
at her, “Perhaps the panther was trying to wake me. You know, we saw that once on a TV show? The dog that woke up his
master, to save him from the housefire?”
“Umm…when we found
you, you were coughing up water and your face was wet, as if you’d been in the water,
but you were on shore. We just assumed,
perhaps at one point, you’d pulled yourself out, but maybe…” her mother
appeared to drift off in thought, no longer looking at her, but speaking more
to herself, as if she was momentarily trying to sort it all out in her
mind. “But this is not a dog, Lexa, this
is a wild animal.”
“I know he saved me,
Momma, I know he did. He liked me, he
wouldn’t have hurt me. You heard what
Daddy told you, he let me pet him and everything.” Lexa blurted out with all the
wishful innocence of a five year old.
But no, Lexa was not a child, not anymore and she knew her mother could
see she was deadly serious.
“I don’t know Lexa, I
just don’t know.
“Momma, what happened
to him?”
She could see her
mother turn away and pick at the buttons of her shirt, “When your father and I
and several other campers heard you scream, then heard the panther growl, we
ran down into the valley where you were.
I mean, we saw the panther over you, nipping at you, then it turned and
it had your blood on its mouth and we just assumed…” her voice drifted off and
Lexa could see tears forming in her eyes.
A born nature lover like her daddy, she knew her mother never once
wished harm on any animal.
“What happened?”
“One of the campers
had a torch…and he ran at it, he…set the panther on fire.”
Lexa gasped, her hand
covering her mouth.
“It ran and another
camper managed to get off a couple of shots, but…well, it wouldn’t have
survived, it was burned pretty badly and probably got hit by at least one of
the bullets…”
“He was innocent,
Momma…he was…” She practically wailed.
“I’m so sorry, baby.”
Lexa turned over and
sobbed, her heart broken. She felt her
mother stroke her back comfortingly, but all she could do was whisper, “…he was
my friend.”
“God. I’d almost forgotten about that.” She whispered gently, looking down at a faded, one-inch scar on the back of her hand, one of only two that remained from that day. And her only physical reminder of the kind panther that loved to be petted.
Then, without warning, strong hands suddenly pulled her off the rocks. She spun around with a quick yelp of surprise and found herself face to face with a tall, thin man.
“You were dangerously close to the edge.”
Darren.
She eyed him silently, awestruck by the irony of his words. Nothing could be more true.
______________________________________________________
For the first time in weeks, Erik had finally sat down at
his drawing desk and decided to look over a set of plans drawn by one of his
employees. The man was young and a
little overzealous in his designs, constantly adding things that simply were
not practical. He felt almost obliged to
step in on behalf of the client to fix anything that they found was over their
estimated budget. Yet, for all that, he
couldn't help but smirk, remembering
The time at his desk had also served useful in helping keep the promise to himself that he would fight the urge to shift more than once a night in order to allow his body time to heal in between. Although the desire was overwhelming at times, he began to feel that finally, Lexa had been gone from his sight long enough that he could maintain his control. Perhaps, just perhaps he could move on.
As he made corrections to the plans, Darren knocked on the door.
“Enter.”
“Monsieur…” Darren walked inside rather anxiously, his jacket missing, the two top buttons undone. “I hate to disturb you.”
He turned his head slowly, narrowing his brow. It wasn’t like Darren to be so rattled, “I thought you had left for home, what’s wrong?”
“We have a problem. It is about Mademoiselle Gordon.”
Erik quickly leapt off the stool, “Speak, what about her? Is she sick, hurt…?”
Darren tried to keep his cool. He’d observed Erik long enough over the past few weeks to know how fixated on her he’d become.
“No, Monsieur, she is here.”
Chapter Nine:
Lexa paced around the blue walled room, waiting for Darren to return. She’d been taken there immediately through what appeared to be a kitchen area, not allowing her much time to view what little part of the house she could see. She’d immediately requested seeing his employer, then watched as Darren turned even paler. He told her she would have to wait upstairs while he went to tell him and that her visit was most…as he put it…unexpected.
That was an understatement.
While she momentarily scoffed at being treated like a prisoner, the time in the room had been just what she’d needed. The first thing she did was walk to the window and look out. There, just as in her dream, was the waterfall and river she’d just been to, with the minor exception of the ice and snow. It was the final part to the all illusive mystery. Everything that had happened in that room, every conversation, every morsel of food she ate, came flooding back to her in one large rush of emotion. It was almost too much for her to handle and she couldn't wait to tell Tasha the good news.
She jumped as the door burst open and Katrine came running inside. “Mademoiselle! I did not think you would ever return!”
She ran from the window to her, “Katrine!” The two women threw their arms around one another, like old friends should. “What do you mean you didn’t think I’d return?” Lexa asked as she broke the embrace and looked at her closely.
“Well, when Monsieur Ridgeway said he had returned you to your car that night, I assumed…”
Oh…
“What is wrong?”
“Well, see…” Lexa began, not sure how to explain, “I’m just now remembering everything again after losing some of my memory. Mostly about this room, you and Darren. Beyond that, some things still seem a bit sketchy. That’s why came here in the first place.”
“Remembering? So, Monsieur Ridgeway did not bring you here?”
Lexa’s eyes narrowed slightly, “No, he didn’t. What did he tell you?”
“He simply said you were here and to come keep you company.”
“I see. So you don’t know the circumstances in which I was taken back to my car?”
Katrine crooked her head slightly, her eyes narrowing in thought, “Well, no. Only that you had been returned and was taken safely by the authorities.”
“And you didn’t know I’d been drugged.”
That got a gasp out of her and Lexa didn’t need an additional verbal reply.
“I was given morphine. That’s why…”
“Why you did not return until now, why you did not remember this place?” she said softly and it appeared to Lexa that Katrine’s eyes brimmed with a tear, “Or me.”
“Yes.” She comfortingly touched the maid’s arm, “But the point is, I do remember now, especially you. I remember your kindness, your laughter…and that I distinctly remember wishing for you to call me Lexa.”
That effortless little gesture seemed to make Katrine’s eyes shine again.
“But I still have some questions. Maybe, could you help me? Just to fill in some details?”
The two of them sat on the bed. “Very well…Lexa. If I can, or if I am allowed.”
Ah yes, Katrine’s silent vow of secrecy. She recalled her employer was pretty strict in the area of privacy, so she chose to proceed with caution, “Well, who found me that night, exactly? Was it Darren?”
“No, it was both of them.”
“Both Darren and your employer.”
“Yes, Monsieur Ridgeway told me you were almost dead, frozen in the snow.”
“And I stayed in here for five days?”
“Yes, you did. Very sick you were. I undressed you that night, put you in the bed. Your skin was blue; you were ice cold and shivering. We were all concerned for your well being.”
“So, who was it that stayed with me that first night? Was it Darren? The one who warmed me up, rubbed my hands and arms…held me.”
“No, that was...”
Lexa never gave her a chance to finish her sentence, “Your employer. He made the medicine for me too, I suppose.”
She nodded with a faint smile, but a glimmer of something unidentifiable shone in her eyes. What did she know that Lexa didn’t?
“His name is Erik Renault.” Lexa said matter of factly.
That got a second gasp. My, but it seemed the poor girl would come out of her skin. “He told you his name?”
“Yes. You find that strange?”
“Yes, I did not think he would ever do that. He was so upset when you saw him that day. Do you remember that?”
Lexa laughed softly, but then turned quiet for a moment as her mind recalled what she’d seen. “Yes, I do. I know you got quite upset with me as well. But, there is one thing I’m curious about from that day. I recall he wore something, it was like a…”
The door opened and Darren walked inside, stopping just short of the bed on which the two women were sitting. Lexa could immediately see that the color (what little he had) had returned to his cheeks and he appeared far less anxious than he did just an hour ago. His hair was less tussled and he wore a full jacket, neatly buttoned.
Darren turned to
Katrine, “Pourriez-vous, s'il vous
plaît, emporter du thé et une pâtisserie dans la bibliothèque de Monsieur
dans vingt minutes?”
Katrine rose and answered, “Oui, Monsieur.” Then turned to Lexa. “I will see you later?”
“Yes, thanks Katrine.” She grinned back, then watched her leave the room before standing herself. She looked over at Darren as he came and respectfully, but firmly took her arm.
“Mademoiselle, he will see you now.”
_______________________________________________
Erik had no choice but to pull himself together rather rapidly. The revelation that Lexa had somehow found her way back took him by such a surprise that he almost shifted where he stood, right in front of Darren. He had to dismiss him from the office so he could go down to his small cellar and give himself a dose of morphine. It would be the only thing that would dull his urge to shift. Dull his senses. Keep himself detached when he saw Lexa.
No, he told himself over and over, she would not get to him, not this time.
But, when she walked into the library, all bets were off. She strode in confidently, he noted, as he hid in the corner to avoid the lamps he’d lit for her. He could see her looking around, scanning, searching.
God, she looked radiant!
He recalled with a smirk that it was the first time he’d seen her in something other than the older looking, worn jeans and t-shirt he found her in, or the white gown she wore when she sat in the rocking chair, or…he shuddered…the towel that barely covered her curves.
He saw her light brown, flower printed blouse with flutter sleeves and dark blue jeans. And the boots she wore, he could hear them on the hardwood floor as she walked around, admiring the paintings on the wall. They made her look tall and elegant. Her hair was neatly fixed, full of nice soft waves and she wore just a hint of makeup, accentuating her already gorgeous eyes that seemed to glow in the light of the fire close by her.
And he could also see she was growing impatient.
“Please, sit down, Mademoiselle Gordon.” He prompted from the corner.
She turned towards the sound, but wasn’t the least bit startled. Darren, on their way down to the library, had been kind enough to warn her that he would probably keep out of sight. “If I recall correctly, you were far less formal to me at our last meeting, Monsieur Renault.” She almost purred as she coolly walked over to the large couch by the fireplace.
He clinched his eyes shut hard, letting out a breath. Bloody hell, she remembered his name. He hoped beyond hope that she didn’t remember what he said after. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d first thought.
He watched her sit down as he spoke again, “It appears my effort to make you forget everything here…”
“…failed miserably?”
He let out a breath, “So it seems.”
She crossed her legs, resting her hands in her lap as she looked around. Already nightfall, the window shades were closed, but the two lamps hanging above gave her enough light to see her surroundings. The layout of the library mimicked the cathedral ceiling design she’d seen in the sitting room, complete with the beautiful woodwork that was neatly polished, almost shining like glass. Along the left side, next to the fireplace, stood the largest set of bookcases she’d ever seen. Three of them in succession, going at least one story up and right next to it, a small loft that contained a large leather chair and small table.
“What gave it away?” he asked her after a long, agonizing pause.
“The morphine.” She answered simply. “When I was taken to the hospital, they ran blood work on me, rather routine, you understand. They found it.”
He groaned to himself. What a stupid mistake! Of course the police would have her taken to the hospital.
“They also said I was recovering from a lung infection and strep throat. Did you know that?”
“Yes, I did, I could tell by your symptoms.”
“So that stuff, the whisky tasting stuff, that was…”
“Medicine, I assure you.”
“Antibiotics?”
“No, a combination of herbal remedies to strengthen your immune system, your body fought the infections.”
She wrapped her arms around herself, her brow furrowing, “I could have died from the fever, you must have known that.”
“No, I made sure Katrine kept you bathed in alcohol and cool rags.”
“That was an awful risk for me, why didn’t you just call the police in the first place?”
“If you recall, Mademoiselle, I told you I did not wish to have my identity revealed.” Erik’s voice spat out, his fists clinched tight together. The more she spoke, the harder it was to maintain control.
“Yes, but you never told me exactly why… Monsieur.” She returned his cold attitude with her own. She didn’t like his sudden formality, not one bit.
“I do not believe that is any of your business.”
That tone of finality again. She really hated that.
“Why did you return?” he asked before she could speak again.
“Basically?” her voice turned almost placid, “to prove to everyone I wasn’t nuts. To prove that I had seen what I’d seen, the people, the house, the smells, the tastes…it was all so distant, so far away. I just needed to know it happened. Closure, you understand.”
That, he could accept.
“Good, then your stay here will not be long.” He almost hissed out through clinched teeth.
She finally turned around to the sound of his voice. She didn’t want this to be so hard, she just wanted to see him, put the final piece together. Why didn’t he just understand that? “You really don’t have to be so distant. You weren’t that last night I was here. You were almost…civil. Why don’t you just come out where I can see you? Is that such a horrible thing? You at least owe me that much.”
“I owe you nothing.” He spoke before he could stop himself. The morphine was starting to work better than he’d expected. He started to think he could actually make it through this.
He couldn't have been more wrong.
“Excuse me? Owe me nothing?” Lexa stood, no longer caring about any etiquette or protocol. She was going to find him. “You drugged me and left me in my car, when I told you, assured you…”
“Do not come any closer…” he tried to say, his voice low, but she was not about to be swayed.
“…promised you that I would not give away your identity or the house here. Yet, you didn’t believe me. I know you don’t know me, Monsieur Renault, but if you were to ask around, you’d find very quickly that I’m one to keep my word....”
“Mademoiselle, please…”
Closer and closer she came to the corner where he stood. He had to stop her; she was giving him no other choice.
“…yet that didn’t seem to make any difference to you. All I wanted to do was simply say thank you and I…
He finally leapt out of the corner, gripping hard to her shoulders, “Stop!”
Then he saw her gasp.
“I knew it; I knew you wore a mask.”
_______________________________________________
“So, what you’re saying is that you did all of this because you don’t like people seeing you wearing this mask.” Lexa said fifteen minutes later, sipping her tea and nibbling on the fresh pasty that Katrine had brought in, per Darren’s earlier instruction.
Erik nodded, “Yes.”
“But really, these days, people don’t care. I’m sure if you just got out there and mingled…”
“I do not…mingle.” He said over his tea cup, watching her eyes study each and every part of him. She was curious, inquisitive, almost to the point of being downright nosey. And it would have angered him if she wasn’t so damn stunning.
She couldn't help but stare. Sitting on the couch opposite him, she could get more than a good eyeful. He was as tall as she suspected, judging from the recollection of her third floor view. His hair was black and pulled away from his face, sans a few strands that fell along the side of his forehead and his eyes were an unusual shade of light green with a touch of deep amber around the outer rim. He sat with his legs crossed and he rested one arm on the armrest of the chair, almost gripping it while his other hand carefully held the tea cup. He seemed so controlled, so distant, almost bored by her presence. So much so, she toyed with the idea of picking a fight, anything to make him show some more emotion like he did when he’d gripped her shoulders earlier. And although she couldn't explain to herself why, she’d found his forcefulness almost alluring.
He coughed just slightly and her eyes flew back to the mask. It hid half his face, including part of his nose, but certainly didn’t hide everything. She could see that he had some scarring on his neck that disappeared into the collar of his black button down shirt. Burned maybe, she thought. Or surgery? It was almost opaque in color, but deeply ridged, and especially thin in the area around his collar bone.
“Are you done analyzing me?” he asked her, his voice that annoyingly even tone he’d used the whole time she’d been there.
“Sorry, I know it’s impolite to stare, I truly don’t mean to. It’s just that…your eyes…they are the most beautiful shade of green, they remind me of…”
His heart almost stopped. Surely she couldn't…
“Of what?” He held his breath.
“Of my cat, Ming.”
He released it with a thankful sigh. “Your cat.”
“Yes. He was a Siamese, but he was so unusual, his eyes were blue, but they had a lot of green in them as well. My father said it meant he was a good luck symbol, but it didn’t matter to me. I could stare at them for hours, so entrancing, very much like yours.”
Lexa, stop it, I beg you, his mind screamed, do not do this to me…
When he didn’t answer her, she continued, “He died about ten years ago. He lived a long time, but at the end, he just couldn’t function. I had to have him…” she stopped her words with a small nod.
“I am sorry for your loss.”
She would have taken it as sympathy if his voice had lowered, or risen, or anything other than just that same, complacent, patronizing tone.
“Anyway, I can understand how my staring must feel to you. Again, I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” And with that, she turned her eyes away and he suddenly felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart. He silently begged her to look at him again.
“I do not mind it, Lexa.” His reply came so softly she could barely hear it.
She shot a glance back towards him and leaned forward, “What did you say?”
“I said I do not mind it.”
“No, after that.”
Bloody hell. He coughed, “I did not say…”
“Oh, but you did, Monsieur, I believe you slipped up.” She gave him a very satisfying smirk.
“Slipped up?”
“Yes. This is the first time you’ve called me Lexa since I arrived here. I daresay you must be kicking yourself in the ass right about now.”
Indeed, he was doing just that, “I did no such thing.” He stiffened with his useless attempt at a denial, the grip on the chair tightening.
“Just the same, I hope you continue. I like it.” Her own soft reply almost floated to him, surrounding him like a comforting mist. It was just what he wanted, but didn’t need.
Inside, the human cringed, hoping she would stop.
Inside, the beast purred, praying she wouldn’t.
“Do you now?” he asked her before he could stop his betraying mouth.
“Yes, Erik.” Her voice turned equally soft, sweet, seductive and utterly deadly. The smile that accompanied it was equally lethal, almost too much to handle. He was losing the battle, falling, spiraling out of control. His bones began to ache, his vision started to narrow and he knew what would come next. God help him, he was going to shift right in front of her and he felt powerless to stop it.
“Monsieur?” Darren asked, knocking on the door.
The hush that fell from both of them was deafening.
Erik’s body found enough adrenaline to prevent the shift in time. He was so relieved that he noted to himself to be sure and raise the man’s salary for such a perfect interruption, “Come in.”
“Monsieur, I have found Mademoiselle’s car and brought it here.” He said to Erik, then turned to Lexa, “When you are ready to leave, I shall show you the easiest way to drive back to the main road.”
“Thank you, Darren.” She said, then looked at Erik. She got her basic answers, but she wanted more, so much more.
“Thank you.” Erik said, his voice returning to its previous, icy tone, “We’re finished here. It is too dark for her to try and find the road out tonight, put her in her room. She can go home after breakfast tomorrow.” He told Darren, talking right over her. She bit her tongue, but not for long.
That voice. Frustrating. Damn arrogant, smug…
“I shall wait outside for her.” Darren said, seemingly oblivious to the events that had just unfolded.
When Darren closed the door, she glared at Erik, “Finished? I don’t think so.”
He rose slowly from his chair, looking down at her with a bitter expression, “I do, Mademoiselle. I took a great chance revealing myself to you like this, but that is only due to your stubbornness. I simply did what any other person would do; I helped a stranger, a simple act of humanity, of charity.”
She almost choked as she instantly stood, but kept her distance from him, “Charity? I was a charity case?”
“Yes. Perhaps I did not do it in a way that you found pleasing or acceptable, but nonetheless, it is how I am.” He came to her then and stood before her, their eyes meeting, almost burning. She could feel his body heat, smell his wonderfully delicious, musky scent.
“Certainly, you did not come hoping for a fairy tale ending.” He said to her, “I do not do fairy tales. Mademoiselle.”
And with that, he turned swiftly, almost fluently and walked out of the library, leaving her with absolutely no way to respond.
Damn arrogant,
smug…gorgeous man.
Chapter Ten:
In human form, Erik had considerable trouble keeping away from Lexa once he’d left the library, but in beast form, it was damn near impossible. The closer he came to the balcony of his bedroom after his long run, the more of her scent he could pick up, this time, her familiar pheromone speckled with the same scent of jasmine and sandalwood he’d smelled the first night he saw her.
The first night he’d held her naked body in his arms.
But he was detached then. Fascinated, but remote. She was just another person to him, an outsider, a virtual invader into his world. No identity, no past, present or future.
Now, she was his whole world.
He sat on the balcony for a few moments as he panted in the cold night breeze, his nose in the air, his ears up and alert for any sound out of place. He had to keep his senses keen. Lexa was no longer sick and while she would be going home tomorrow, she was here, in his home, tonight. Although he’d asked Katrine to keep her company until she fell asleep, he knew deep down nothing could stop her from walking freely around the house if she so chose and he simply couldn't risk her seeing him, not in either form.
Yet he couldn't keep away from her, either.
He let out a long suffering groan as his body shifted back to its human state, a task far less agonizing physically than going from man to beast, but nonetheless painful.
When he finally stood and walked back into his bedroom, he shut the doors tight and reached for his robe that he left by the fire to stay warm. He’d need the heat around him after running for so long.
Although, he’d prefer Lexa’s heat. The heat he’d felt when he carried her to her bed both times. Warm, inviting as she clung to him, an almost unspoken invitation to…
Yes, to see her lying in that bed, sleeping…just this one last time.
No, you cannot…
But before he could stop himself, he’d already left the room.
__________________________________________
Lexa slid the robe that Katrine had been kind enough to loan her over her shoulders, covering her bra and panties as she walked down the tall staircase on her way to the kitchen. She spotted a full length mirror hanging on the wall near the double doors that led to a back deck and stopped. The ‘old robe’, as Katrine had put it, was a kimono style that wrapped around. A bit small, but Katrine being so petite, that didn’t surprise her. She managed to get it tied around her waist, covering most of her hips, but a bit gaping at the top. She viewed her reflection, observing the soft, white satin material and sequined appliqués around the edges of the three-quarter sleeves, wondering why Katrine would ever use the phrase ‘old’ to describe it. She pondered, if Katrine was not fond of the robe, perhaps she would consider…
She shook her head. No, now was not the time to start bartering for clothes.
She was hungry.
The meal that night, although eaten in the dining room with only Katrine for company, was just as tasty as she’d remembered from her previous stay. Grilled catfight and fresh vegetables. Delicious, but not terribly filling. The remainder of the evening, her and Katrine had played a few rounds of poker in the library, using different jeweled rhinestones for poker chips. Once Lexa was convinced that Katrine was a secret poker shark, she’d given up and they spent the rest of the evening around the large fireplace just talking about everything they could think of. Unfortunately, while Katrine was very inquisitive about Lexa, she was not very forthcoming about her own past, a few times simply avoiding any talk that came too close to the subject of her and Erik Renault.
But, by
“Well, I shall leave it on the chair along with a robe, in case you need it. Goodnight, sleep well.” Katrine told her before she left the room quietly.
But she simply couldn't sleep well, not with a growling stomach, and she knew filling it would put her out like a light.
As she entered the kitchen, she immediately noted how spacious it was compared to her own tiny kitchen in her own tiny apartment. She also saw how pristine and immaculately kept it was. If she could say anything for Katrine, she cleaned spotless everything that didn’t move. And she mused that she probably cleaned a few things that did.
She opened up the refrigerator, expecting to find leftovers in little containers stacked neatly in a row. But to her surprise, there was nothing.
“Oh, well.” She gave a half-hearted snort, hoping for a snack of leftover catfish, “Let’s see…apples, grapes…some cheese, milk….condiments…raw meat? Uh, no, I’m not that hungry.” She almost laughed.
She opted instead for a glass of milk and an apple. While it wasn’t the cookies or potato chips she preferred on her late night snacking binges, it would do.
________________________________________________
Erik gently slipped into Lexa’s room through the panel by the fireplace to find her bed empty.
He froze by the side of it, a sickening panic rising that he
couldn't stop. Where the hell was
she? It was after
Stop it! His body screamed and that damned beast inside laughed mockingly, almost enjoying the suffering.
He ran from the room without another thought, then stopped by the bathroom, but the opened door and darkened room told him without a doubt that she wasn’t there, either. Almost frantically, he began to scour the house. The library, no. The sitting room, no. His office, no. The back deck? Surely not in this cold. He tried to listen, but could hear nothing but the cruel quietness of night. Curse his human senses.
There was only one way he could track her.
Luckily, he didn’t have to do a full bodied shift before he caught her scent. He began to follow it like a pied piper and soon, his hearing could detect soft footsteps and movement from the kitchen.
Of course, the kitchen. Probably hungry. His heart sunk from his throat, his breathing lessened, but it didn’t make him less upset. If anything, it angered him more.
How dare she be up this late, scaring him into illogically thinking she might have left to return home. Did she decide instead to go running around his house before going to the kitchen? No telling what else she might have seen in her incessant snooping. He saw, he knew how curious she was. What would stop her from going into his office alone, his library and God forbid, his cellar?
He burst into the kitchen, ready to unleash his anger.
But when he saw her in that small white robe, all he wanted to do was unleash his desire.
Bloody hell… that robe barely covered her body!
Time instantly seemed to stand still as he stared at one lone curl lying against the skin below her neck, hanging loose as it moved and slowly slid down just between her breasts, as if it lived there, wanted to be there. Like he did. Once again, his breathing increased. What a huge mistake, another miscalculation. He had to stay angry, keep his craving away.
Crave was such a tame word.
Lexa had been standing at the counter, drinking a glass of milk, but when Erik burst in, she spun around quickly, startled by his sudden appearance.
“What are you doing here?” he asked before she could ask the same thing, his voice tainted with a controlled rage, but much more hoarse with longing.
“Uh. I’m drinking a glass of milk.” Her voice stayed even and calm, trying to figure out what was making him so damn mad.
He approached, but kept a good foot away as to thwart the temptation to touch her. “You are never to leave your room like that. Ever. Do you understand?”
Her brows raised and she sat the glass down. Now he’d done it. He’d picked the fight she’d wanted to start in the library earlier.
She inhaled sharply and…“Look here. I don’t know why you’re so pissed off, but I’m not a prisoner here in your little version of Xanadu, alright? I can come and go as I please, so don’t start acting like a dictator. I only came down to drink some milk. If that offends you, or if its forbidden, I’ll be sure to leave you some cash on the nightstand to compensate you.” She tried to push past him, but he stopped her.
Not a smart move.
Fight it, Erik, you
fool!
“No, you look here. While you are not a prisoner here, this is still my home. It is not, as you say, Xanadu. Dictator, you say?” he gave a short but deep, throaty laugh that made Lexa shiver down to her bones, “Think what you wish, but you will abide by my rules. If you want something from here, or anywhere else, for that matter, you wake Katrine and she will assist you. I do not care for wandering eyes around my home. As for compensation…” he suddenly pulled her to his body, his taut, passion-stricken body.
Lexa gasped at the proximity of his strength. She almost started to shake, but immediately wanted to scream for even considering succumbing to any charm the man had. He was the one that burst in on her, she had done nothing wrong and she damn sure wouldn’t apologize for it.
She twisted from his grip, then took a breath to steady herself. “Perhaps I should ask. How did you know I was out of my bed in the first place?”
He stopped cold. “What?”
“You stormed in here angry as a hornet, just as if you knew I was in here. You don’t exactly appear to be the type to take to late night snacks, so I know your finding me here was no surprise…”
“Do not try and presume anything…”
“Just the same. It leads to the conclusion that you knew I was not in my bed, otherwise you would have never looked for me.” Her voice remained low, her breathing increasing. She knew the man could feel and she just wanted to bring it out.
But his eyes. Did they show worry?
“I went to…check on you and found your room was empty.” He stammered.
Her lips curled in a smirk, “Really. Check on me? In your robe?” she gestured as she peeked at him standing there in just a long, black velvet robe, tied just enough to hide the majority of his body, but not his breastbone, which held just a small smattering of hair. It was the first moment she’d truly taken the time to observe him in that manner. Probably not the best idea, she quickly surmised. The sight of him standing there like that made parts of her warm and swollen.
He eyed her, speechless, his gaze softening, feeling utterly defeated.
Lexa knew she’d gotten to him.
But she didn’t feel terribly proud.
After a few seconds of eerie stillness, he finally stepped away from her and walked slowly toward the kitchen door. He’d failed to keep his feelings at bay. He needed to get out of there immediately. He turned and looked her over slowly from head to toe as the soft kitchen light illuminated her, their eyes finally meeting. It was this view of her…in the soft white robe that hugged her curves and barely covered her pink lace bra… that would live in his memory for all time.
And damn it all, he’d have to run again.
Lexa watched him, could feel his hard gaze rake over her but she made no move to hide herself, she just no longer cared. In truth, she welcomed it, would welcome anything from him at this point if he would only speak and break the agonizing silence.
One heartbeat.
Then two.
And then he was gone.
Chapter Eleven:
Mid-morning came quicker than expected and Lexa found herself sitting at her desk at the magazine, pouring her mind and energy into completing a layout for Zander before she went to eat lunch with David.
The past few hours had been nothing less than a whirlwind.
It was harder to leave Rawdon than she first thought. After a quiet breakfast, Katrine kept her out by her car for nearly twenty minutes giving her hug after teary hug. It was if Katrine knew they’d probably never see each other again. It saddened her, and it saddened Lexa. Darren pulled in just as she was preparing to drive away and after a friendly kiss on her hand, he slipped her a business card and made sure she remembered the way out he’d told her the night before.
She pulled away, watching the house from her rear view mirror, hoping. But she never saw Erik once, yet strangely enough, she sensed he was there watching. Somehow.
No sooner had she driven into the parking lot across from her office building, than she was almost tackled by Tasha and Bobby, both of whom had been waiting for her ever since she’d called them from her cell to tell them she was on her way to work. She managed to tell them everything was fine, she’d gotten the answers she needed and she’d fill them in later. It appeased them both enough and she told Bobby to get Tasha to work before she got fired. Then she came into her office, threw on the spare set of clothes she kept in her office closet and set her mind to work.
But not before she spotted the business card on the floor where it had fallen out of her coat pocket. She smiled as she picked it up, noting the simplicity of it, showing only Darren’s name, his business description and his cell phone number. And when she turned it over, there was a handwritten message.
Anything you need, I
am here. Your friend,
Darren Ridgeway.
Her eyes misted, followed by a satisfied sigh. No, there would be no need to contact Darren again. She’d found her closure. They were people isolated from civilization, alone virtually in the middle of nowhere and seemingly happy to be that way. She had no intention of changing that. She simply didn’t belong in their world, but she liked them nonetheless. Yes, it would be hard, but she could move on now, put it all behind her.
But she knew she’d never forget.
And as she put the card away in her purse, as much as it hurt to admit, she knew who she’d miss most of all.
________________________________________
Most
Likely To Have His First Million By Age Thirty.
Those were the words written under David Gramling’s picture in high school. Unfortunately, like most, it was way overstated.
Yet, at the age of thirty-six, taking over his father’s construction business didn’t hurt. He may not ever be a millionaire, but he’d be able to live comfortably. And provide for a family.
That notion had been wasted on Lexa Gordon the night she told him she could never have his children. He’d been so out of character, so hateful and accusing, but he spoke out of disbelief only. She knew he wanted children. All of his friends were either married, had children of their own or both. Why did he have to pick someone unable to fulfill that one burning need?
No, he was through feeling sorry for himself. He admired and cared for Lexa very much. But in love? She was attractive, independent and much more frugal with money than he was. His family and friends liked her and she was willing to make a marriage work. Perhaps he could try to fool himself into believing he was in love with her, but deep inside, it was not love that drove him, only the desire to have a wife that he got along with and children to carry on his name and someday take over his business. Love. That kind of deep, passionate, all consuming love would come later, he felt sure.
He walked through the office of the magazine to stares from Lexa’s co-workers. He knew scuttlebutt must have gone through the small group of employees there, considering he used to come for lunch at least twice a week, then suddenly not showing up again for four months.
He stopped and knocked on Lexa’s door, still smirking at the onlookers, even giving a few of the cuter girls a little wave. They looked thoroughly disgusted, but he couldn’t care less.
Lexa looked up from her computer screen, then glanced at the clock.
She groaned. Damnit. Where had the time gone?
“Come in.” She said as she hit ‘send’ to email the layout to Zander.
David walked about halfway through the door and the first thing Lexa noticed that had changed about him was…nothing. Not one thing was different, from his strawberry blonde, neatly cut hair, to his slightly tanned, freckled skin and dark blue eyes, all the way down to his five hundred dollar Florsheim shoes. Although she did have to admit, he looked rather nice in his blue striped button down shirt and navy slacks. A little fancy for the owner of a small construction company, but then again, the man always did live beyond his means.
“Hey, David.” She smiled. It was good to see him again, even though the sting of his rejection was still there.
He answered her smile with his own as he walked fully inside and shut the door. “Are you ready? I thought we’d hit Modavie. We should be able to get in if we hurry.”
She stood and grabbed her coat and purse. “That’s fine. I’m hungry for some good pasta.”
He watched as she walked out of her office door before him and he couldn't help but smirk again. Something was different about her. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he liked it. A lot.
Perhaps, he mused, winning her back wouldn’t be as hard as he thought.
__________________________________________________
“You must understand,” David said as he wiped his mouth before taking a sip of water. They’d enjoyed a nice, relaxing lunch, catching up on family, friends, work. But it was time to get the bad stuff out on the table and clear the air, “when you told me you couldn't have kids, it took me completely off guard. We’d been dating for six months and engaged for two, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Lexa fiddled with her napkin, pausing as the waitress took away their plates, “I knew you wanted kids, I guess I just didn’t want to tell out of fear of, well, of what happened. I didn’t want to lose you. I should have told you sooner. For that, I do apologize.”
“I apologize for the things I said too. It was stupid of me. Logically, I know that there are circumstances in which a hysterectomy at such a young age is needed. I shouldn’t have been so insensitive. And I shouldn’t have walked out the way I did, I guess I just needed to sort out what was important.”
She looked into his eyes and saw a glimmer of sincerity, “And what is that?”
“You. Us. Making a life together.”
She ran her hand through her hair nervously before twisting a curl around her finger, “I don’t know, David, so much has changed, I’ve changed….”
“I know. I heard about your ordeal in Rawdon on the news. I was honestly sick with worry. I’m glad to see you’re alright. I suppose, knowing how close I came to losing you, made me realize how much I treasured what we had.”
“David…I…”
He reached over and touched her hand, “Just call these four months apart a sort of awakening period for me. A simple trial separation. Now that we know what we want, there’s no reason we shouldn’t get married. Once we’ve been married a few months, we could start the adoption process.”
That came as such a shock she almost knocked over her glass, “You, you want to adopt?”
With a smile, he nodded and could instantly see Lexa’s eyes light up.
“This is happening so fast.”
“Why should it not? I mean we’re both stable and ready for this. But no, don’t give me an answer just yet. Just take your time and think about what I said.”
They both stood up as David paid the check and the interruption gave Lexa a chance to let everything sink in. Four months ago, he wanted nothing to do with her. Now, he wants her back and is ready to get married and have children? The turnabout was so fast it made her head spin. What was the rush anyway? If her childhood time spent in Rawdon taught her one thing, it was to slow down and enjoy life. That was one of her father’s most adamant lessons.
And what about her life, her career? She loved children, but she was almost thirty-five. Did she want to try and go through the process of adoption, using up all their money and a good two or three years of their lives waiting? Tasha and Bobby would surely marry within the next year, they would have kids, they’d already made plans in that direction. She’d love to be a godmother.
Or an aunt.
Yet, Sammy, he didn’t have a wife or kids and she wasn’t sure with all his missionary work, that he’d ever have either. Would she be denying her mother the chance to be a grandmother?
Despite Tasha, Sammy or her mother, four months ago she would have gone with David Gramling anywhere, married him in a tiny church or a judge’s office. Now….
They walked outside the restaurant and when they reached David’s car, he checked his watch.
“Aww…crap. I’m late for a meeting on the other side of the city. I’m afraid I can’t get you back to your office.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out some cash, “here, let me pay for the taxi ride back.”
She pushed his hand away, “No, it’s a nice day, David, I’ll walk back, it’s not that far.”
“You sure?” He asked, bundling himself up in his heavy coat. I know its sunny today, but it’s pretty damn cold. The news report said we’re due for a good snow tonight.”
“Yes, very sure. Besides, the walk will give me a chance to clear my head.”
He turned her to face him and he looked down at her, his finger stroking her air cooled cheek. “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me. I know it’s all a bit sudden, but I hope you consider taking me back. I know we could be happy together.”
She looked up at him but didn’t respond. She simply didn’t know what to say. But when he unexpectedly leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, a wave of uncomfortableness washed over her.
Then an image flashed across her eyes quick as lightning, and just as sharp.
Erik Renault.
“David, stop.” She turned from his kiss, stunned, wondering where in the world he got the nerve to try it. And, more importantly, why she didn’t want it.
“Sorry, I thought…” he said, his eyes looking almost lost.
“No. Uh. It just took me by surprise is all.” She took a deep breath, then coughed.
Awkwardness, that’s all it was.
She’d always loved kissing David. There wasn’t a time where the two of them didn’t have their lips practically glued to one another’s. Grocery store, out with friends, in the middle of his mother’s living room, you name it. The sneakier the better, she always thought. And that small prelude just made her realize how much she missed it. She cupped his face, pulling his lips to hers a second time, telling herself she was ready to accept everything he had to offer.
But she was wrong.
As they embraced, their arms around one another, their lips parting, nipping breathlessly, Lexa fought to recapture the passion they’d once shared.
Yet, all she could do was feel sick to her stomach.
Again, she broke the kiss, “Uh, I guess I should go back to work.” She laughed nervously, feeling herself turn bright red.
David mistakened it for a charming blush. He felt it was a start.
Lexa only felt faint.
“Yeah, I need to go too. I’m late as it is,” he shot her one of his award winning smiles. “Dinner tomorrow night?”
She tried to say yes, but she was sure if she opened her mouth, she’d vomit.
“I’ll call you, sweetness.” He said as he jumped into his car and was gone, leaving her alone on the sidewalk.
She fell against a retaining wall and slid down to rest on
the concrete. Jesus, what just happened
to me?
Without thinking, she ran the back of her hand across her mouth, suddenly wanting to rid her lips of the taste of him. She couldn't explain it, but when she kissed David, it was if a thousand voices screamed inside her mind to stop and her head began to swim violently. She felt horribly ill, but most of all, very self conscious, almost as if she was being watched.
Little did she know, someone was hiding nearby, doing just that.
_________________________________________
Darren made a huge breach of etiquette by walking into Erik’s office without knocking. But he knew he wouldn’t be reprimanded, he had important news.
Erik had been quiet all day, but both Darren and Katrine left him alone, knowing the reason why.
It took him until after
Tell her he was sorry? Yes.
Tell her that he loved and desired her beyond all reason? Most definitely.
Tell her goodbye? Hell, no.
He envisioned himself walking into the dining room, finding Lexa alone and in going to his knees, taking her in his arms and confessing all. In his stark imaginings, she would break from the embrace just long enough to look into his eyes and tell him that she loved him, no matter what. Tell him she would spend the rest of her life with him, then press her soft lips to his. He would lift her up then lay her down on the table where he would make love to her endlessly, telling her he belonged to her and that he would never let her go.
Damn fairy tale.
But, in the end, he did let her go. But not before standing at the loft window to watch her car disappear from view, obscured by the tall curtains. It was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do.
Now, in the coming evening, hearing the door open, he turned from his drawing desk, “Yes, Darren. Did you do as I asked?”
“Yes, Monsieur.”
He stood and walked over to stand by the window. There was just enough sun left in the sky to shine through, yet keep him relatively shaded from view. He watched as the snow started to fall, turning everything white. “Tell me.”
“I followed her into
“And?”
“I observed as she drove to her office. It is an older renovated building in Old Montreal, about three years old, it does a good business. She met with a man and a woman in the parking lot across the street for about fifteen minutes. The woman wore scrubs, like a nurse would wear. I know from Katrine that she spoke of a friend named Tasha Browning and her boyfriend, Bobby Calvert. I believe it was these two people who were in the parking lot.”
“Very good. Then what?” He stared out the window, his finger tracing the fog on the glass.
“She went inside, but since it is a closed building, I could not gain access, so I went on to the office to do some paperwork. But I returned around lunch time to see if she would leave. She did, Monsieur.” He paused.
Erik waited, tapping his foot on the floor.
“What?” he finally asked.
He proceeded cautiously, “She went to lunch with a man.”
Erik turned sharply, “Bobby Calvert?”
“No, Monsieur, another man. They went to eat at Modavie. It was crowded, but I managed to get myself a seat nearby, unfortunately with the noise, I could not make out all they spoke about. But their gesturing suggested they were very familiar with one another. And at a couple of times, their conversation turned rather serious.”
“How serious?”
“At one point, Monsieur, he held her hand.”
Erik let out a growl and turned his head back to the window. This was not welcome news.
“Did you get the name of this man?”
“Only when they were leaving. They spoke briefly outside before he left in his car. She spoke his first name.”
“Which was?” He held his breath.
“David, Monsieur.”
Erik’s eyes shut hard. “The same David that…?”
“Yes, I believe so. David Gramling. I spoke with Katrine a few minutes ago. He fits the physical description that Mademoiselle gave her.”
Speechless, he could only let another possessive growl come from his throat. If he had his way, he’d shift instantly and rip David Gramling apart with his teeth.
“Did Katrine ever find out the circumstances by which their engagement ended? I know she and Lexa spoke extensively in my library last night.”
Darren scratched his chin, “Umm…I believe she mentioned that he ended the relationship. Hurt her considerably. But the reason, I do not believe she told.”
Hurt her. Hurt my Lexa.
Erik closed his eyes, his jaw clinching tightly shut.
“And Monsieur?” Darren said, breaking the awful tension that had risen. “That is not all.”
“What?” He looked at Darren once more.
What else in hell
could there be?
“They kissed.”
_______________________________________________________
Twenty minutes later, Erik had walked, actually stalked out of his office, expelling his anger fueled energy, knocking down everything all over the house he could get his hands on.
Pictures on the hallway wall, broken, the glass scattered all over the floor.
The large mirror by the back deck door, shattered into a million pieces.
Expensive vases on top of the library fireplace, smashed.
He roared, screamed, cried, slamming his fists into the walls, kicking over furniture, raging out of control, all in an effort to purge his jealousy, his possessiveness.
His envy.
And to keep himself from shifting.
Because he knew, if he shifted while out of control, there would be no telling what would happen.
The bastard had done what he’d craved for so long. He’d kissed her. And by Darren’s recollection, it had been a rather passionate embrace, the first one initiated by him, but the second, longer one, initiated by Lexa herself. He’d asked if they went off together, but he said his view was obscured by patrons coming from the restaurant and when he finally could see clearly again, David Gramling’s car was gone.
And so was Lexa.
So, that is how it is to be, he told himself when he finally calmed down enough to put a thought together. She would move on and rekindle her relationship with this man. Marry, have children, live happily ever after.
She would get the fairy tale he couldn't give her.
“Bloody hell!” he screamed, his voice echoing in the high ceiling of the library. “Make me forget her!”
No, the beast inside mocked his pain; you’ll never get over her.
“I will! I lived without her once, I can do it again!” he pounded his fists against his legs.
Her blood is in you,
you belong only to her, for all time.
“She will never love me!”
But you will never be
free of her.
His inner beast was right, he’d never get over her. Yet, he’d never have her. So he could do the only thing that was left. He’d watch over her.
He threw his exhausted body down on the couch and laid his head against the back of it, calling out, “Darren!”
Darren ran inside quickly, observing the mass of destroyed items scattered all over. He and Katrine both, although keeping out of sight, watched over Erik in his tirade to keep him from harming himself. The rest could be cleaned up or fixed later. Yet, the sight was still overwhelming.
“Yes, Monsieur, are you alright?”
Erik’s voice was low, fatigued, “Yes. Do not be concerned.” He knew his behavior had startled and upset him as well as Katrine but now was not the time for explanations. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Of course.” Darren approached the
couch, finally taking in the full view of him. His sweat-soaked hair was
plastered to his face and on the mask in soggy lumps. His shirt, unbuttoned halfway
down was equally wet with sweat and clung to his body. His hands, bloody from smashing glass, rested
on the couch on either side of him, staining the leather red. In all his years working for Erik Renault,
he’d never seen him so out of control.
Even when
“I want you to watch Lexa.” He panted out the order, pulling no punches.
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow. And, every day after that. I want to know what she’s doing every single day. I want to know what she eats, when she eats, where she goes, who she goes with, when she sleeps…” and very softly, “…who she sleeps with.”
“Watching her twenty-four hours a day, I will not get any business done.” He answered, surprised and shaking his head. Surely, he wasn’t serious.
“Then hire someone, I do not care how you do it, I just want it done.”
Darren sank into a chair. This was pure insanity. He ran Erik’s business affairs and tended to the few errands around the house. He’d been asked to spy before, but merely good corporate spying on rival competitors, nothing more.
But this was different, this was turning personal.
“Monsieur.” He began again, knowing this very phrase could very well get him fired. “I will not do that.”
Erik’s eyes cut sharply to him, “You will not?”
“No, Monsieur.”
“You are defying my direct orders?” Erik asked, not believing it.
“May I speak freely?” Darren asked in reply.
It was something Darren rarely did and something Erik could never deny him. He nodded.
“Monsieur. You let Mademoiselle Gordon leave of her own free will. I agreed to watch her today to make sure she safely returned home. It is apparent that she intends to go on with her life. I know…or I suspect strongly…what she means to you, although I do not understand why. But, I cannot blame you for your affection for her.” He paused a moment to gather his breath, then continued, “She is a kind, free-spirited, lovely woman who, for the short time she was here, brought life into this house. I regard her highly. And it is with this regard that I refuse to invade her private life any further, simply so I can report to you her every move.”
“I see.” Erik sat up straighter, crossing his legs and resting his hands on his lap.
“If you so choose to fire me over this, I shall understand, although I daresay that you would be hard-pressed to find another assistant that you could trust to do what you require, business wise. And personal.”
The words coming from Darren’s mouth could not ring more true. Erik was struck dumbfounded. He gathered himself somewhat, even to the point of brushing the shards of glass off of his slacks.
“You are right.” He said, his eyes scanning for a handkerchief for his hands. “No, I cannot…will not fire you. But you do not understand why I desire to know what is happening with Lex…Mademoiselle Gordon.”
Darren stood and handed Erik the handkerchief out of his pocket, then slowly started for the door, “That may be true, Monsieur, but I will not spy, nor will I willingly hire anyone to do so. If you wish to know what she is doing on a daily basis, perhaps you should spy on her yourself.”
And with those last words, those sharp words, from a sharp tongue that cut like a knife, Darren left the room, leaving Erik hardly any room to breathe.
Leave his home, after eight years? Impossible. He couldn’t…
…could he?
Chapter Twelve:
“The Killing Moon is at its wrath.” Erik said with very little emotion as he stood on his back deck, looking up at the full moon. The thin, wispy clouds passed across it, causing the moonlight to dance across the wood under his feet.
Darren stood behind him, leaning against the doorframe to the house. He could only watch passively. He knew Erik was right.
Three weeks prior, the day after his anger-filled tirade, Erik had finally taken Darren into his confidence and a mutual agreement was struck. Although Darren was aware of his family history, he’d explained the situation, in much greater detail, and just how serious things could get for Lexa if he didn’t keep an eye on her.
So it was this new understanding that drove Darren to start watching her, studying her for any of the signs that Erik had warned him about. He agreed that he would check on her twice a week, usually Tuesday and Friday nights as those were nights that he typically found himself working at the downtown office. He would linger around her apartment until she returned from work, then follow her if she went out. The time spent there would be no more than about three hours to make sure she was well, then he would leave. In return for this, Erik agreed that no matter what news was brought to him, he wouldn’t fly into another destructive rage.
And now, nearly a month’s worth of reports from Darren about observations in regards to Lexa were showing with all too stark reality what Erik had feared, what he tried so hard to prevent.
The Killing Moon was affecting her.
“Tell me again what you saw.” He prompted Darren as his fingers dug into the wood of the deck’s polished banister.
Darren took a breath and started, “David came over to her apartment as usual. They had dinner, Chinese that he brought in. After dinner, they began to watch a movie…” he kept himself vague on what he considered the mundane parts.
All of it had truly been rather mundane. Lexa returning from work, having dinner. Occasionally friends came, but most times she ate alone. She would shower, (although Darren never watched her do so, only saw her going into her bathroom then returning in a robe and drying her hair) then she would either watch television or work on her computer before going to bed. Friday nights would be most of the same, except that David would join her. At first they would go out to dinner, but that had now dwindled down to simple meals at either her apartment or his.
Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing sensation.
Until it came to any form of sexual affection. That, in Darren’s opinion, was much out of the ordinary.
“…and as always, they began to kiss.”
“And what made this different from any other time?” Erik asked him.
“In previous times, the only light was from the television, so as you know, I could only hear her stop him after they went so far. This time, they had neglected to turn off the lamps.”
“And that is how you saw….”
“Yes, Monsieur, it went much further this time.” Then Darren once again gave a vivid retelling of how David had gently pushed her down on the small couch before resting against her body. How one hand had trailed up her skirt, caressing her thigh while the other firmly kneaded her breast through the material of her shirt. How he had nipped almost hungrily on the skin of her neck, his body moving against hers. The moans, the sighs, the look of desperation on his face as he told her harshly and hoarsely that he wanted her.
And the sudden look on her face, as if she was turning physically sick.
“Her face and lips turned pale, Monsieur. She was touching him and allowing herself to
be touched, but it appeared make her very uncomfortable. I could see her panting for air and her eyes
clinching shut as if she was trying to keep from fainting.”
He told Erik that she had stopped David, telling him something too mumbled to be understood from his vantage point and how David appeared to be rather put off by it. But before he left, he said his patience would soon wear thin. The tone of his voice, even over the sound of the movie playing, made Darren wince.
Erik turned away from the moon and looked towards Darren, his eyes darkening. The urge to rip David Gramling apart had not faded away. Nor was he ever sure it would, “Once he left, how did she appear?”
“She appeared to be fine, the color returned to her cheeks. But, I daresay that she still looked rather unhappy and a bit on edge about the tone he used.”
“And you’ve seen this slow decline the whole time?”
“Yes, as I have said to you before, I have seen her sadness, although faint, most of this month. But honestly, until last night, I had not seen her become so distressed and ill when David touched her.”
“She is suffering so. It is my entire fault.” Erik continued softly, “I thought if I sent her away quickly enough, there would not be a risk, but I was wrong. So wrong.”
“Monsieur, surely that would not be enough to cause Mademoiselle to shift on her own.”
“No, you must understand, my closeness to her that night, my touching her, it only began the bonding process here…” he tapped his temple, “If I take her body, as well as her mind during this time, it will indeed seal the bond, but she will not become like me.”
“So it is only during The Killing Moon that if she takes your blood into her, that she will become a panther.”
“Yes, and as I’d told you before, the sealing of the bond can become rather…animalistic. Even some of my ancestors who had tried to have their mates steer clear of the blood were unsuccessful. So you see why I must avoid being anywhere near her, at all costs. There would simply be a point where I could no longer contain myself.”
“Much like David Gramling.” Darren noted.
“Because he came too close. It appears he has sensed the pheromone increase. Bloody bastard, he will turn territorial very soon. I want you to check this man out. Pull your sources. I want facts, rumors, anything you can find.”
Darren nodded and another momentary pause fell. He could see Erik’s eyes lost in deep, contemplative thought and Darren shuddered at the vision of what Erik would do to protect the woman he’d chosen to be his mate. In the end, it doesn’t matter if the human inside knows he can’t have her, it’s the beast that will instinctively take over.
“I have decided. I will go to her.” He suddenly blurted out as he pulled Darren inside the open door and shut it.
Darren gasped, “Go to her, Monsieur? You have not returned
to Montreal in eight years. Is that not dangerous? The murder of Olivier Simon has yet to be
closed.”
“Yes, but I could take the risk and go with you Tuesday night, therefore you could keep an eye on me. I must see for myself her behavior as well as her reactions to David, I have to sense her innermost feelings. And there is only one way I can do that.”
“Oh no, you cannot mean…” Darren turned ashen at the very thought.
“Yes. I must shift.”
“This is madness, Monsieur…suicide. I cannot stop a shift, and if you do so anywhere near her…”
“I have no choice, Darren.” He said before he put his hands on both of Darren’s shoulders to steady him. “Only the beast inside me can truly detect the forming bond, smell the definitive change in her pheromone. I cannot approach her, touch her or even attempt to talk to her; therefore there is no way she can know the nature of what she is going through.”
More eerily calm silence fell as the two men’s gaze locked in understanding.
Then Erik pulled away and started walking slowly but purposefully toward his bedroom. He would run again, the need to be alone almost overpowering.
“She only has a few nights until The Killing Moon is over, so the longer she stays away from me, the better.” He said back to Darren, just before he shut the door.
_______________________________________
Lexa sat pensively, picking at a piece of fuzz on her terrycloth robe as she heard Tasha chattering away in her kitchen, making her one of her famous Sunday brunch omelets.
The past month has been a trying one since her return from Rawdon. While everyone was preparing for the warmer temperatures of spring, Lexa just simply couldn't get into the coming season.
She was having more trouble moving on than she ever thought she would.
Things with David were heating up as well. They’d seen each other at least one or two nights a week since that first lunch date, but this past week, David had been coming by every night after work. He would either bring something for dinner or simply ask her to make something and it was starting to become too much of a habit for her taste. She grew accustomed to the peaceful silence she felt when she was alone and started to prefer to remain home alone most nights, breaking engagements with friends and avoiding phone calls.
But then David would show up. His presence, although he could get her to laugh, was beginning to make her feel cornered. She was feeling more and more unsure of herself and her decision to continue seeing him.
And, oh God, when he kissed her. That, she clearly couldn't understand. The man was perfect. Any woman would want him; give up their careers, family, their very lives for a shot to have sex with David Gramling. Why couldn't she kiss him longer than a couple of minutes at a time before she had to break away and take a deep breath? Why did she still hear those voices screaming at her to stop? Why could she only see Erik Renault’s face in her mind?
She sighed as she fiddled with the engagement ring on her finger that David had given back to her a couple of weeks ago. She’d told him she wasn’t ready to wear it yet, but he told her to keep it just the same. She put it on the ring finger of her right hand instead.
Marriage.
Her mind told her this was the sensible thing to do, the smart thing to do.
Logical, responsible…
But all Lexa could think was how utterly depressing it was.
Worse yet, they’d yet to have sex since their reunion and she knew it was only a matter of time before David would truly become insistent, especially after their date the night before. His kisses had become more and more lust-filled as they traveled from her lips to her jawline, his hand gripping her hip, moving upward inside her skirt, his other hand stroking her breast, just the way she used to love it.
Used to.
She’d let out a moan and David took it as encouragement to continue, but the moan wasn’t passion, it was sickness. Confusion. Her mind told her she wanted it, needed it, but her body fought it. Sometimes the conflict was so strong it brought her to tears. She missed the feel of a man loving her, caressing, deep inside her…moving…sweat soaked bodies…voices crying out in impassioned mutual release…yes, she wanted that, craved that more than anything.
But, it wasn’t David that she wanted.
My name is Erik
Renault…and we are one…
She eventually couldn't take it and had to stop him. He’d asked what was wrong and God help her, she’d lied about having a headache. It was so simplistic, so utterly cliché, that she was sure he’d laugh in her face. But he didn’t. Instead, he left peacefully, but the tone of his voice told her that he would not be so understanding the next time.
Next time…
She shook her head and tried to abandon that thought. No, she simply couldn't go on with the charade. They all wanted this, her friends, his friends, their families, everyone but her. She knew David, he’d want reasons. What could she give him? Tell him she felt like vomiting every time he touched her? Tell him that the thought of spending the rest of her life with him made her feel like killing herself?
Tell him she truly desired another man? A cold, distant man she knew she could never have, yet she’d be willing to wait her entire life for?
Erik Renault.
She slammed her fist against her thigh, trying to purge those thoughts from her mind. No, the reasons for ending it with David didn’t matter, she simply had to loosen the noose that was tightening around her neck, tighter and tighter every day.
“And yeah, so anyway by the time I reached Mrs. Mitchell’s room, she had completely tumbled out of bed, landing right on her ass.” Tasha said as she brought the plates from the kitchen and sat them on the coffee table in Lexa’s living room.
Lexa feigned a laugh, “I bet that was funny.”
“Funny?” Tasha widened her eyes, “She broke her hip. I don’t find that funny.”
“Oh.” She blushed, realizing she hadn’t followed a word Tasha had been saying. “Sorry.”
“What’s wrong?” Tasha sat down and grabbed her plate to put in her lap.
“Eh…just thinking.” she started picking at her omelet. Ham and cheese with onions and mushrooms, with salsa on the top, her favorite.
But she couldn't eat a bite.
“It’s David, isn’t it?” Tasha studied her over her cup of coffee.
Lexa cut her eyes toward her. God, but the woman was so perceptive she was almost psychic, “Yeah. I’m going to end it tonight.”
To her surprise, Tasha didn’t appear very phased by the admission. She simply said, “Oh, okay,” and took another bite of her omelet.
“You aren’t upset?”
“Why should I be?” she asked, momentarily mumbled by a mouthful of food. “I’ve known you for too long, I see how different you are when you’re around him. I know you haven’t been comfortable in the relationship since you two got back together.”
“Are we really together, Tash?”
“Aren’t you?”
“I don’t know. I never felt we were, not really. We’d go out, have dinner, come here or go to his apartment. Watch a movie, talk, ma…” she momentarily stumbled over the word, “…make out. But, I’ve never felt comfortable or relaxed, not like it was. It’s just like I’ve been going through the motions.” Tasha didn’t appear to notice the slight stutter, much to Lexa’s relief. She couldn't lie to her friend, she always saw through it, so now was not the time to be trying to lie about her feelings for Erik Renault, it simply wouldn’t fly.
“So what you’re saying is, bottom line, you aren’t happy.”
“Exactly.”
Tasha sat down her plate and leaned forward towards Lexa, “What would make you happy?”
“Ending this.” She answered quickly, without reservation.
“And?”
“What do you mean?” She furrowed her brow.
“You know what I mean, Lexa. Should I say it for you?” Tasha asked with a tone of complete impatience.
She matched her friend’s tone, “Tash, I don’t have time for guessing games.”
“What would make you very happy is if you were in Rawdon right now. Right in that house, smack dab in the middle of the freakin’ woods. That would cure this all, wouldn’t it?”
Silence.
“That’s what I thought.” Tasha went back to eating her omelet without another word.
Lexa sat stunned, unable to deny it.
How could she?
It was the truth.
_________________________________________________
Katrine walked out of the dining room after taking Erik’s breakfast plate. She looked at it, noting he’d hardly eaten anything. Not that her employer ate much on a typical day. He cooked enough for the two of them (or three if Darren joined them) to have a good meal, but hardly had anything left over. Monsieur Renault did not like waste and if there wasn’t enough, he’d take less so that Katrine could have all she wanted. She always protested, but he’d tell her he simply wasn’t that hungry. She knew differently.
Yet, on Sundays, he always did eat croissants with his coffee during the mid morning. It was the one thing he usually ate plenty of. But not today.
She finished the dishes and started upstairs to change the bed linens when she spotted Darren enter the back door. Also very unusual for a Sunday as Darren typically spent the day at his own home.
“Bonjour, Monsieur, would you like some coffee?”
“Bonjour. No thank you, I have had plenty already today.” He answered softly, almost breathless.
Katrine lowered her brow at his quiet behavior, noticing he was carrying a large black valise with him, not his usual navy briefcase. “Is everything alright?”
Darren came to her and whispered, “Everything is fine. Has Monsieur been up this morning yet?”
She leaned towards him, unsure of the reason for quiet, but she whispered nonetheless, “Yes, he has. I fixed him his usual but strangely, he did not eat.”
“Did he say anything?”
“About what?” She asked rather quickly.
He answered just as quickly, “About anything?”
“No, he was very quiet. Why are you here today?”
“I just…came to return something to his library, something I borrowed.” Darren’s reply was as enigmatic as his facial expression. She noticed his tight grip on the valise, so her curiosity forced her to play her trump card. “I knew he came back from his run rather late last night after you left. I could hear him, his…usual groans…sounded almost sorrowful. Something happened last night, did it not?”
Darren stopped cold and just looked at her, wondering just what she saw or heard.
Katrine did not take to spying, per say, but she was never opposed to a bit of innocent eavesdropping as she was doing things around the house, such as dusting in the sitting room, going to the laundry or, as was the case last night, going to the kitchen to fix herself a cup of hot tea. She justified it as being in the right place at the right time; especially when she heard Lexa’s name being spoken. Unfortunately, the rest of the conversation’s content either was too low to hear or simply eluded her understanding.
But one thing she heard was very clear.
The Killing Moon. She had no idea what that meant or what it had to do with Lexa, but from the tone both men’s voices took, it couldn't have been very good.
But Katrine was no novice when it came to her employer’s less than human side. The first time she saw him as the panther was the night he saved her life. Eight years ago. A dispute between her father, Maurice Bertrand and his business partner led to a brutal verbal barrage within the alley behind the restaurant they owned together. But words soon turned to violence when the man, Olivier Simon, pulled out a knife and lunged at her father, trying to stab him. When Maurice managed to get out of the way, Olivier turned his attention to Katrine, who was then just nineteen. Her father pushed her behind some packing crates and garbage containers and fought the man. But her father, a good ten years Olivier’s senior, simply was no match. The man took her father to the ground and began stabbing him over and over, the man’s dying wails echoing throughout.
Stifling a scream to stay hidden, Katrine then saw what appeared to her to be a large, black cat leap out into the alley and watched as it attacked and literally tore Olivier apart viciously. When it was over, both men lay dying and Katrine was left frightened and confused beyond reason.
Then it happened. Right before Katrine’s eyes, the cat suddenly turned into a man. Naked, he was splattered with blood but it didn’t seem to phase him. He walked over to the corner where he’d first burst in, took a handkerchief and began wiping the blood off his body. Then he reached for his clothes and a long, dark trench coat, but something stopped him.
Movement.
Katrine had tried not to move, but in her fascination, she’d stumbled over a box. She froze as the man started her way, throwing on the trench coat to hide his body. Looking around, she saw no other place to hide. She knew she was trapped and before she could take another breath, his hand clamped around her arm and she was pulled from the boxes.
“Who are you?” the
hoarse voice asked.
“Katrine Bertrand.”
She said, hardly able to breathe. Then
she saw her father.
The man followed her
gaze. “Which man do you know?”
She pointed to her
father and said, “Him. He is my father.”
The man let her go then and she ran and fell beside him but
quickly turned away, the sight of the blood making the bile rise in her
throat. He was already dead. The man let
her cry but didn’t leave. He asked her what she saw and she told him the truth,
then thanked him for saving her life and that she owed
him. He told her he’d come too late to
save her father’s life and that he regretted it. For compensation, he could use someone to
help keep his home in Rawdon and if she wanted it, he’d give her a job, a place
to live and a good salary. She told the
man she had no other family in
It was the only time she’d seen him shift, although she has seen him run many times after.
Darren studied Katrine closely, “You have never asked me that before, why do you ask that now?”
When he saw Katrine shuffle her feet, he knew it was something significant.
“Katrine, what did you hear?” he asked firmly.
“What is The Killing Moon?” she asked him instead.
Darren paused as he thought of just how to answer. He didn’t believe Erik would forbid him to answer her questions, but he didn’t think he’d ever expect her to ask. The subject of Katrine’s knowledge, or lack thereof in regards to The Killing Moon was just something that never came up. Quite simply, because neither Darren nor Erik ever thought Katrine wanted to know.
But now, she did ask and Darren felt he owed her the truth. And the best way to let her know was right in his valise.
Without hesitation, he removed a large, aging, leather bound book from it and handed it to Katrine. “Read this, you will have questions. I will find you later and answer what I can.”
She narrowed her eyes as she looked down at the book, hearing Darren’s footsteps going down the hall toward Erik’s office, then read to herself the words written on the inside cover.
The Felis Athapantera
Syndrome. An Experimentation in Genetic Science.