Desire the Night

“Good morning,” her mother said, smiling. “I was about to make your father another stack of pancakes. Would you like some?”

“Thanks, Mom. Anything I can do to help?”

“No, everything’s ready.”

“Where’s Greta?” Her aunt and uncle often dined with them.

“She’s gone into town. Brett went with her.”

Nodding, Kay sat down across from her father and reached for the coffeepot. As usual, he had his nose buried in the newspaper, which suited her just fine. She really wasn’t in the mood for idle chitchat, not when she was worrying about Gideon’s whereabouts.

She sipped at her coffee, which was hot and strong and black, just what she needed to kick-start the day and clear her head.

Her father turned the page. “You were prowling around early this morning,” he remarked, glancing at her over the top of the paper. “Is everything all right?”

“Of course. I’ve been keeping company with a vampire, you know. It’ll probably take me a while to adjust my sleeping schedule back to normal.”

He regarded her a moment; then, grunting softly, went back to the news.

“Here you go,” Dorothy said, placing a plate in front of Kay. “Light brown, covered with butter and powdered sugar, just the way you like them.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Kay helped herself to several sausage links and two strips of bacon from the platter in the center of the table.

Laying the paper aside, her father poured syrup over his pancakes. “Dorothy, stop hovering like a bird of prey and sit down. If Kiya wants anything else, she knows where it is.”

“Russell, it’s her first day back home.”

“It’s okay, Mom. Dad’s right. I’m a big girl now. You shouldn’t be waiting on me.” Kay turned her attention to her breakfast. Nothing had changed at home, she mused. Her father was still a dictator. She had often wondered why her mother had married him. They had never seemed happy together. There was always a fine edge of tension between the two of them.

Kay ate quickly, then excused herself from the table and left the house by the back door.

Outside, she stood on the patio, one foot tapping impatiently. Her father had been right. She never should have left here. Having enjoyed the freedom to come and go as she pleased, to do what she wished when she wished, she was never going to be happy being under her father’s thumb again. And being married to Victor Rinaldi would be even worse. Bad enough to be the Alpha’s daughter. Being the wife of a man she couldn’t stand would be a million times more terrible. Not to mention the unpleasant prospect of living with Victor’s parents, two of the most unlikable people she had ever known, neither of whom was particularly fond of her. But then, she wasn’t particularly fond of them, either.

Feeling thoroughly depressed, she made her way to the barn. Twenty minutes later, she was astride her favorite Arab mare, Barika, galloping along the southern fence line that paralleled the grassy banks of a shallow, slow-moving stream.

She loved riding, loved the sense of speed and freedom that it gave her. Loved the feel of the wind in her face. She let Barika run until the mare slowed of her own accord. Pulling up in the shade of an ancient oak, Kay dropped down on her belly and drank from the stream. The water was cold and sweet.

She ground-tied the mare, then stretched out on her back and gazed up at the sky. Puffs of snowy white clouds drifted across the bright blue expanse. A red-tailed hawk floated lazily overhead, its keen eyes scanning the ground for prey.

It was peaceful here, with the stream bubbling happily over the rocks, and the bees buzzing as they flitted among the wildflowers. A warm breeze whispered through the trees and teased the tall grass.

Kay rolled onto her stomach. The only things she had truly missed about this place were her mare, this patch of land, and the serenity it brought her.

She plucked a dandelion and twirled it between her thumb and forefinger, thinking it was kind of sad that she had missed her horse more than her mother and father. She loved her parents, knew they loved her in return, but she hadn’t missed their company the way she imagined mortal daughters missed their folks. There had been no chatty letters from home, no weekly phone calls exchanging gossip, no e-mails or text messages. But then, her family wasn’t like other families. There were pack rules to follow, secrets that must be kept, and always the awareness of the phases of the lunar cycle, the increasing tension that colored everything as the night of the full moon grew closer.

Her feelings about running wild through the night had always been ambivalent. Chasing through the timbered hills with the pack could be exciting, but it could also be dangerous. From time to time they had encountered others of their kind who were more feral—renegade males who had been cast out of their own packs and wanted to fight for territory. Single males in search of a female. An occasional Alpha who had completely forsaken his humanity and ran with the wild wolves.

Sitting up, Kay stared at the water and wondered yet again where Gideon was spending the day, and if he dreamed while trapped in the dark sleep of his kind, and how long he would stay here before he grew bored or restless and moved on. And what she would do without him.

There was so much about him she didn’t know, yearned to know. He was nothing like she had expected a vampire to be. The werewolves claimed vampires were soulless, bloodsucking monsters with no shred of humanity or decency. But Gideon wasn’t like that. Being with him filled her with a sense of belonging that she had never felt here, among her own kind. She had known him only a few short weeks, and yet she not only loved him, she trusted him more than anyone else she knew.

She looked up in surprise when her mother rode into view.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Dorothy said. Dismounting, she sat beside Kay. “This was always your favorite place to come when you were unhappy or troubled. Or pouting.” She smiled faintly. “Which is it today?”

“None of them. All of them.”

“Does it have anything to do with Mr. Marquet?”

Kay glanced away. There were times when her mother was far too perceptive.

“Kiya?”

“It has everything to do with him,” Kay admitted. Though it was more than just her feelings for Gideon. She missed her job, missed having her own place. She missed Wanda. Her friend must be wondering what had become of her.

Dorothy rested her forearms on her bent knees, her expression pensive. “It would be better for everyone if he left. You know that, don’t you? Vampires and werewolves are natural enemies. His being here puts an emotional strain on all of us.”