Authors: Dara England
Sir was very generous. He insisted they mustn’t judge the poor man too harshly. They could have no idea what he had been through or what desperation had driven him to take his own life.
His tone was so steady, his demeanor so calm, Teagan could almost believe her mind had invented the whole terrible scene that had played out before her. Certainly, no one else was questioning Sir’s explanation. Even the table server who had witnessed, through the window, the end of the struggle was ready to allow his first interpretation had been mistaken. He now understood what had seemed at first like a fight was really only the frantic efforts of one brave man trying to save another.
Teagan pressed her hands over her face. She was hardly aware anymore of the icy wind cutting through her dress or of the cold shivers rippling over her. Werewolves, violence, lies… This whole evening had been a nightmare. Surely if she waited, any minute now she would wake up and find herself safe in her bed where she belonged.
The sudden crunch of a footfall beside her, and then a soft, light weight descended to blanket her with warmth. Looking up, she found herself gazing into the face of Sir. Without meeting her eyes, he busied himself with settling his tuxedo jacket over her bared shoulders.
“Snow’s falling again,” he said quietly. “Be a shame to get that nice dress wet.”
He was right. All around them, fat white flakes, temporarily interrupted, had again begun to drift down, driving many of the excited party back indoors. Most were jabbering about calling for their cars now that the banquet was as good as ended. A few planned on rushing down to the street to watch the scene unfolding. Even now, wailing sirens could be heard in the distance.
A sudden thought struck Teagan. Sir seemed to think of it at the same time. “He won’t set them straight on what happened,” he reassured. “Nobody could survive a fall like that and live to talk about it.”
“No, you made sure of that, didn’t you?” Her cold question came out weak and shaky.
A flash of anger lit his eyes. “And you would’ve had me handle him differently? Through reasoning, no doubt?” His tone was sarcastic.
“Was that so out of the question?”
“Yes. You were there. You saw him. There’s no reasoning with a lunatic.”
“Maybe you didn’t care to try because it was in your interests to silence him. Dead men tell no tales and all that.” They were cruel words, but she wasn’t certain he didn’t deserve them. She shuddered, remembering both the burning hatred in the dead man’s eyes as he confronted Sir, and then how his expression had turned to one of horror as he’d plunged off the side of the rooftop.
Sir must have misinterpreted her shivering, for he tucked his coat more closely around her. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” he said in a more patient tone than she could ever remember him using with her before. “You’ve had a difficult night, being threatened by a crazed gunman and then witnessing a violent death. And to think only yesterday I was promising you a magical evening.” His easy tone only disturbed her more. How could he be so casual about all this? Then again, if the words of the blue-coated man, who now lay dead below, were true, Sir had already had ample opportunity to accustom himself to violence.
“Did you do it?” she blurted suddenly. “Did you attack that man’s brother? I read about it in the paper the very next day,” she went on, not waiting for his answer. She stared into the distance. “A lone man attacked in an alleyway behind the Heights complex. Of course, it didn’t mean anything to me at the time.”
What would she have done differently if she had known who was responsible?
Her gaze returned to Sir. “He was telling the truth, wasn’t he? About everything?” She emphasized the last word. Somehow she couldn’t bring herself to ask right out about the werebeast charge. It was too strange. And somehow, too personal.
Sir had stiffened at the question. “I never wanted to hurt anyone,” he said by way of explanation, his voice low. “I wasn’t myself when that incident in the alley happened. I’ve tried to control the urge, tried to keep myself locked away on the nights when they come strongest—the full moons.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Those are bad. But the mornings are even worse, when I have to wake up and realize what I’ve done.” He glanced down at his strong, long fingered hands. “That morning, I found blood on my hands, and not my own from tearing at my study walls, trying to escape my self-chosen prison. It was the blood of a stranger. And the study door was unlocked. You might have inserted the key, but you must have failed to turn it until the click.”
“And some poor man paid for my mistake.” Teagan felt ill.
He glanced sideways at her. “Don’t blame yourself. The fault lies with me. You couldn’t have known how important it was to double-check that lock. And I didn’t dare place too much emphasis on the one task you did that really mattered. I couldn’t have you knowing that was what I had really hired you for.”
“Then all the rest was just a sham?” she asked, her vague suspicions fulfilled.
“Not quite,” he said. “The loud music was useful to drown out the sounds of my shrieking and ripping at the walls. The place setting and the wine goblet, however… Those extra dramatic touches were just to distract you from the real purpose of your coming. You seemed a pretty clever little street monkey, and I knew if given enough time you’d eventually puzzle out the truth, unless I complicated things a little.”
“And you couldn’t have me finding out the truth?” she asked.
“Of course not. You were a stranger to me. Why should I have trusted you? Even if you could be made to believe the truth, you would have been too afraid of me to continue with the tasks I needed done every full moon night.”
Teagan was silent, thinking about all she’d learned. She was vaguely aware he had scooted over to sit close against her during their low conversation, and his arm now rested across her shoulders. His presence was warm, solid. Teagan tried to sort out her emotions. Should she feel threatened by the discovery she was alone with a man who transformed into a beast every time a full moon rose into the sky?
“You aren’t sure yet if you trust me.” It was a statement, not a question. “You’re trying to figure out whether to keep my secret, or to bolt downstairs and spill everything out to those cops clustered in the street down there.”
That was exactly what she was doing. A soft throat clearing nearby, however, interrupted their conversation before she could admit to her thoughts. “Javen.” Mr. Rotham, the elder, loomed over them. “I understand you and this young lady have much to discuss. But she has been through a very traumatic incident, and I don’t think this is the time for you to keep her here on an icy rooftop talking. Take my car and slip off to get her back home. I’ll smooth things over with the police as best I can, but you’d better bring yourself back again as quickly as possible. I imagine there will be plenty of questions waiting for you on your return.”
Teagan shot Sir a look.
Does he know
? she asked with her eyes. He gave a slight, negative shake of his head.
“A good plan, Grandfather. I won’t be a half hour.” He turned to Teagan and helped her to her feet with surprising gentleness. “Come on then, Miss Grant. Let’s get you home.”
Chapter 28
It was near ten o’clock when Teagan left the scene of her stalker’s violent death. Sir sneaked her out a back exit, where they wouldn’t have to push through the scene of confusion out front. The entire block seemed alight with the red and blue glow of flashing police lights. Several ambulances were drawn up to the curb, and a crowd had collected on the sidewalk. People strained to get a glimpse of the body lying in the roped-off section of the street.
All of these details Teagan took in from a distance, for Sir never let her get close to the scene. She didn’t know whether he was protecting her for her own sake, or if he was really only shielding himself. He had good reason, after all, not to want her to come into contact with the police. She had made no promises yet regarding what story she would tell if questioned.
In the dark warmth and quiet of Grandfather Rotham’s backseat, Teagan sank gratefully into the soft leather. Sir had turned up the heater full blast, and she closed her eyes and buried herself under the blanket of his jacket, still wrapped around her. She didn’t know or care what had ever become of her fur coat and handbag. It was an immense relief to be someplace where she could feel safe again.
Sir continued to surprise her with his considerate behavior, pulling her gently to his side so that her head rested against his shoulder. She was too exhausted, emotionally and physically, to protest—even had she wanted to, and she wasn’t sure she did. He insisted she drink a calming glass of champagne, and she couldn’t find the will to argue with that either.
The drink seemed to settle her churning thoughts, even as it made her drowsy. It was cozy and warm inside the car, with the thick flurries of white flakes swirling against the windows outside. She could’ve nuzzled up against Sir’s broad shoulder and fallen asleep then and there. But he wouldn’t allow it.
“You’ve yet to give me an answer,” he said softly, brushing a loose tendril of hair out of her face. Her elaborate hairdo was in shambles now, the trailing curls tumbling limply around her face and shoulders.
She murmured sleepily, “I wasn’t aware there was a question.”
“I didn’t think I needed to voice it. It has to be on your mind. What happened tonight, all that you’ve learned about me… Will you keep my secrets?”
Teagan sighed. “I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”
Surprisingly, he nodded acceptance. “I suppose that’s about the most I have any right to expect from you right now. Only keep this one thing in mind while you’re considering.”
Teagan half expected some sort of threat or bribe to follow. That’s what she felt sure she would’ve gotten from the old Sir. But tonight’s Sir offered an explanation, something she’d rarely known him to bother with. “I have no choice in what I am,” he said. “No matter how deeply I loathe the beast controlling me—and I do very much—it’s beyond my power to rid myself of him. You must believe me when I say I’ve tried. I’ve struggled to find a solution ever since this evil curse befell me.”
Teagan lifted her head. “Then you weren’t born a—”
“A werecat?” he finished for her with a bitter smile. “No. This change only took place a few months ago. I’ve put a lot of thought and effort into discovering how it happened and how I can reverse it.”
“All those medical and science books…” Teagan said, remembering the bookshelf in the red bedroom of his apartment. “You were trying to research your condition.”
“And the horror novels lining the shelves. I’m sure you noticed those too. I hoped I might find some grains of truth embedded in fiction. But it was a wasted effort. Nothing I learned could help me. A cure seemed beyond my reach. The best I could do was to piece together what happened and who was responsible for it.”
“Someone was responsible? You mean it didn’t come about on its own?”
“Indeed, there was a cruel human mind behind my transformation. One dark and vindictive.” He hesitated before plunging into his story. “About a year ago, I foreclosed a loan on a business I had formerly supported that had long been going under. It had never turned in any profits and I had lost faith in its object. It was a scientific establishment being run in the backwoods of Vermont.”
Teagan’s heartbeat quickened as a horrible sense of foreboding awoke within her. Could this scientific establishment have been run by a man named Dr. Green? “Tell me more.” She hoped her tone gave nothing away.
“The man who ran the business claimed he was working on great scientific discoveries that would revolutionize the modern medical profession. One project I remember he was especially fanatical about was the development of a serum that would lend renewed strength to the body and add years to the life of its user.” He hesitated. “It sounded good at first. But the problem was for all this man’s talking, his business showed no results. He was losing money, and the bank couldn’t keep up his loan indefinitely when he was unable to pay. We foreclosed on him. And that’s when the letters started to arrive.”
“The threatening note,” Teagan said. She tried to keep her voice steady. “The one I found in your drawer.”
“That’s right. This man, who I quickly came to recognize as slightly unbalanced, began deluging me with written attacks. They came to my office, they were mailed to my home. Phone calls too. I couldn’t get away from him. Finally, I threatened to call the police, and that seemed to stop him. At least for a while. I thought I would hear no more from him.” He stopped.
“And?” Teagan prodded anxiously.
“And then, one day, I was at work in my office when a package arrived for me in the mail. Kat usually opens my mail, or one of the other office assistants. But that day, by whatever twist of fate, it was me who opened that small, brown box.”
Teagan leaned forward. “What was inside it?”
“Nothing,” he said simply. “It was empty. Empty save for a tiny needle cleverly affixed to the top flap, which I couldn’t have helped but prick my finger on in opening. I was puzzled by its meaning at first. It was just a little prick, a faint stinging sensation working up my hand, and then nothing. I wasn’t too worried about it. I went home and forgot the incident… Until the first full moon, until my first transformation. Now, of course, I’ve come to accept the truth.”
“That you were a victim of a crazy man’s experimental serum?” she asked, horror stealing over her. Her secret communications with Dr. Green suddenly took on a whole new light. No wonder the man wanted her to record Sir’s every move. She was a part of this experiment too, as an unwitting observer, documenting the subject’s behaviors. She just hadn’t understood before what she was supposed to be observing.
He shrugged. “I’m not sure if he meant it to have the effect that it did. Possibly it was only an experiment on his part. However, there can be no doubting why he chose me as his subject. He had threatened vengeance on me often enough. But when it came it was worse than anything I could have imagined. So now you know my secrets. Or at the least, the worst of them. Care to trust me with yours?”