“No, I’ll never understand. Good night, Father.”
“Remember what I said.”
She nodded curtly. As if she could ever forget.
Kay paused on her way up the stairs when she heard footsteps behind her. Thinking it might be her mother, she glanced over her shoulder. It wasn’t Dorothy, but Jerry Mule Deer, one of her pack mates. His gaze slid away from hers, as if he was ashamed to look at her.
With a sigh of resignation, she continued on to her room. Once again, she was to be under guard.
Jerry bid her a quiet good night when she closed her bedroom door.
Alone in her room, Kay sank down on the foot of the bed. Gideon was free. She shook her head, unable to wrap her mind around the fact that her mother had done something in blatant violation of her father’s will. Kay didn’t know what her father had done in retaliation, but whatever it was, it had drained the life out of her mother. Looking at her was like looking at a zombie.
Blinking the tears from her eyes, Kay fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts again turning to Gideon. He loved her. She knew he did. Where was he? And why hadn’t he let her know what her mother had done?
Kay rolled onto her side, her head pillowed on her hand. It seemed like years since she’d seen Gideon. What if he had gone back to New York? Maybe he’d decided that butting heads with her family was just too much darn trouble. Not that she could blame him.
She gasped, remembering what else her father had said. Verah was free. Was that why Gideon hadn’t contacted her? Merciful heavens, surely the witch didn’t have him in her power again!
It was a thought that kept her tossing and turning until dawn.
Victor arrived with Kay’s clothing and other belongings while she and her parents were at breakfast, a strained, silent meal. Kay was surprised that Victor hadn’t brought any of his own things, since she had assumed he would be moving into the compound with her.
She was even more astonished when her father didn’t invite Victor to stay for breakfast, or even offer him a cup of coffee.
Kay glanced at her mother, but Dorothy refused to meet her gaze. As soon as the meal was over, her mother began to clear the table.
Too nervous to sit still any longer, Kay said, “Have another cup of coffee, Mom, I’ll do the dishes.”
“It’s your mother’s job,” Russell said sharply. “Let her do it.”
Kay dropped back down in her chair. She knew better than to argue with that tone.
When Dorothy finished clearing the table and loading the dishwasher, she left the kitchen.
Russell laid his paper aside.
It took all of Kay’s courage to meet his gaze across the table.
“You’re probably wondering why Victor isn’t staying here,” her father said.
“It crossed my mind.”
“I don’t know how to tell you this except to say it straight out. He was apparently beguiled by the witch. I should have told you last night.”
“Beguiled?”
Russell cleared his throat. “He slept with her and when he was … exhausted, she escaped.”
Kay stared at her father, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. Victor had slept with the witch. As far as she was concerned, it was a match made in heaven. Or, more likely, hell.
Russell sat back, his arms folded over his chest. “Have you nothing to say?”
“Yes. I want a divorce.”
Russell scowled at her.
“He cheated on me.”
“That’s hardly an argument in your favor, considering I found you in another man’s bed.”
“I don’t love Victor. I never have. I never will.”
“Until I decide what to do about your marriage, I think it’s best for the two of you to live apart.”
She couldn’t argue with that.
“He tells me the witch came after you because of the vampire. Is that true?”
“Yes. She wants to use me for bait so she can catch Gideon again. His blood keeps her young.”
Russell grunted softly. “Victor told me that and I called him a liar. Seems I owe the boy an apology.”
“I won’t be safe anywhere as long as she’s alive.”
“Or as long as the vampire lives.”
Kay felt her heart go cold. “If you destroy Gideon, I’ll hate you forever.”
“Forever is a long time,” her father said, rising. “The only way to protect you is to kill them both.”
Filled with impotent anger, Victor lingered outside the fence of the Shadow Pack’s compound. Alissano had taken Kiya home without so much as a by-your-leave and then, after Victor had delivered Kay’s clothing this morning, the old man had sent him packing as if he was some wet-behind-the-ears pup. Alpha or not, Alissano had no right to take Kiya home. She was his wife now, dammit, and he needed her. At least until she had given him a son. Without the Alissano heir, his plan for becoming Alpha of both packs was in jeopardy.
Damn the witch! If he ever got his hands on her again, she’d rue the day. He didn’t know what kind of magic she had worked on him, but it must have been some powerful spell to make him forget the ugly old crone that lay beneath her outward beauty.
Dammit! Even now, he was hot for the old hag.
Verah reclined on the sofa in her living room, staring at her reflection in the window. She was young again, inside and out, filled with the vigor and beauty of youth. Rama lay curled up on the top of the couch’s curved back, purring softly.
Verah glanced around the room, admiring the paintings on the walls, and the figurines of Morrigan, goddess of war and magic; Hathor, the goddess of cunning; and Vesta, the goddess of fire, that adorned the mantel. Her favorite was the life-size statue of Hecate, the Greek goddess of magic, that stood in the corner beside the fireplace.
It was good to be home again. She had showered for half an hour, scrubbing away the stink of the Rinaldis’ cellar, and the touch of the boy who had vented his lust on her.
She grinned inwardly. Not only had she seduced him with her siren song, but she had bespelled him so that he would never be able to satisfy another woman. If there was one thing the world didn’t need, she thought, it was the likes of Victor Rinaldi siring whelps that would grow up to be just like him.
Tomorrow, she would decide how best to recapture the wolf girl, but for tonight, she was content to be safely ensconced in her own home, rested, clean, and well fed, with Rama to keep her company, and thoughts of vengeance to keep her warm.
* * *
Chapter 32
It was near midnight a week later when Gideon left Kusuma Ila’s untidy but cozy home, a small brown bottle tucked into his pants pocket. He made a brief stop at his lair in Phoenix where he took a long hot shower, then slipped into a comfortable pair of old jeans, a long-sleeved black T-shirt, and a pair of supple, knee-high leather boots.