The Keeping (53 page)

“Then you’re a
fool. You’ve probably damaged your leg irreparably and will limp
when it heals.”

“I might be a
fool, but I’m also a survivor. I will live for the sake of this
little one.” She rubbed her stomach and glared at him
defiantly.

Greyson suppressed
the flicker of pride that arose within in him. Damn, but she was a
fighter. He liked that. “Fine. You want to live for the child. Well
then, give it a chance. Let me help you.” Holding out his hand, he
kept his gaze steady as he stared into her liquid brown eyes. The
girl hesitated and then placed her hand in his. As his fingers
closed around her fine bones, he knew he was lost. Somehow, in a
matter of minutes, the girl had done what others had spent years
trying to do. She’d slipped past his protective shield and made him
remember that he did have a heart.

Things happened
quickly after that. He called for his car to be brought around and
they drove to his house. She refused a hospital and barely agreed
to have a private physician look at her. Amazingly enough, the
doctor stated she was bruised, but otherwise fine. Greyson declared
the man a fool, whipping back the covers—much to the girl’s
embarrassment—and demanding that he look at her broken leg. The
doctor raised his eyebrows and Greyson managed to muffle a cry of
surprise when he realized that the broken leg was no longer
broken.

For probably the
first and only time in his life, he’d gaped like a fish, only the
silent plea in the girl’s eyes keeping him from commenting on the
startling phenomenon. The leg had been broken, he knew it. And her
arm was fine, too! As he stared at her face, he noted that even the
cuts and bruises seemed less severe, some barely noticeably. Once
the physician had left, he demanded an explanation. Shouts, tears,
even threats ensued before she finally crumpled under the force of
his personality and explained.

At first he
refused to believe her story, but the more she spoke, the more it
made sense. Her name was Luisa and she was a Lycan or
shape-shifter. She’d been promised to her pack’s Beta, but fell in
love with another. When it was discovered that she was with child,
her lover had been killed and she was severely beaten for her
transgression. That night she ran away, knowing her child would be
taken from her and that her own future would be nothing, but
misery.

“I shouldn’t be
telling you this. But,” she explained. “They would kill me anyway,
in the end. You don’t betray the ruling family as I did, and live
long afterwards.” She moved to get out of bed. “Thank you for
giving me a place to rest. Unfortunately, my presence endangers you
and your household. I’d better leave before they track me
here.”

Greyson scoffed.
“You’ll stay in bed until I decide you’re well enough to get up.
And I have half a dozen armed bodyguards, so your werewolf friends
don’t worry me.”

“You should be
worried. Two of Pablo’s enforcers could take out all your
bodyguards in seconds. The threat they represent is not to be
dismissed.”

He could tell her
fear was real. Well, his business was done anyway. “Fine. Then
we’ll leave as soon as my private jet is ready.”

“Leave? For
where?”

“America, of
course.”

“There’s no ‘of
course’ about it! I barely know you. I’m not travelling halfway
around the world with a man I just met.” She folded her arms and
glared at him.

“And what’s the
alternative? By you own admission, it isn’t safe for you here. How
far will you have to run before you’re out of the reach of this
Pablo you so fear?”

Luisa was silent
for a moment before reluctantly acquiescing. A few hours later,
they were in the Greyson Inc. jet, heading to the States and
leaving the danger behind, or so he’d thought.

The next year had
been the happiest he’d ever known. Luisa was his constant
companion, and the child she eventually bore was like his own. Baby
Cassandra—named after his mother—was his delight and life couldn’t
have been better. If at times, Luisa seemed a bit distant, he put
it down to being tired. A newborn was a great deal of work, after
all.

Cassandra was four
months old when Luisa came to him with her plan. She wanted to go
back to Spain to see her family. Werewolves, she explained, were
social creatures. While she loved him, she also missed her family
and wanted them to know about the baby. He doubted the safety of
this course of action and they argued bitterly before he finally
gave in, though not without taking every possible precaution.

They would stay in
Portugal near the border and she would cross over, quickly visit
her parents and then return. It would be a quick, secretive
meeting. Greyson wanted to go with her, but she insisted he stay
behind to watch Cassie. He argued for her to take bodyguards, but
she would only agree to one person, following at a distance, so as
to not draw attention to herself...

*****

“I never should
have let you go,” he whispered to the smiling woman in the photo.
“I knew something would happen. How those murderous bastards ever
got wind of your presence, I’ll never know.” Greyson swallowed hard
and pushed aside the memory of finding her broken body dumped in a
ditch alongside that of the lone bodyguard. They’d both been mauled
to death.

He’d wanted
revenge, but fear for Cassandra had him fleeing the area instead.
If they ever found the baby...

A light tap on the
door had him hurriedly putting the picture away and straightening
in his chair. “Come!”

Franklin, his
butler, entered the room. The man was one of the few persons
Greyson trusted implicitly. They’d been together for years. “I’m
sorry to disturb you, sir. Cook is wondering how many for
dinner.”

“Just myself,
Franklin. She can send a light meal up to Cassandra’s room, but she
might not be awake enough to eat it.”

“Very well, sir.
And how is Miss Cassandra this month?” Franklin had been with him
even before Luisa and Cassandra entered his life. He knew the whole
sordid tale.

“The medication is
working. No sign of a change yet.”

A smile spread
across the butler’s usually passive face. “I’m glad to hear it,
sir. I’m not sure what we’d do if she ever did transform.” The man
hesitated and then spoke again. “Have you had any news about
finding a pack here in the States?”

“I’m on the trail
of one. It looks promising.”

Franklin fidgeted
nervously for a moment. “Begging your pardon, sir. But how do you
know an American pack would be willing to accept her?”

Greyson tried to
hide his concern by clearing his throat. “I don’t. That’s why I’ve
sent someone else in ahead of time. To test the waters, so to speak
and see if they’re receptive or not.”

The butler nodded.
“That would be Ms. Greene.”

“Correct. Their
reception of her will let me know if it’s safe to have Cassie
approach or not.”

“But what of Ms.
Greene?”

“If she safely
makes contact, all the better for her. If she doesn’t,
well...collateral damage does occur. It’s regrettable, but the
woman isn’t my primary concern. Cassandra is.”

Franklin nodded
again. “True. I’ll tell cook about dinner.” He gave a slight bow
and left.

Rubbing his chin,
Greyson considered the situation. Given what Luisa had told him and
the cold facts of how she’d been treated by her own kind, he was
reluctant to introduce Cassandra to other werewolves.
Unfortunately, he also recalled all that he’d seen during his time
with Luisa and the information she’d shared with him about
transforming with the moon, blood bonds, fertility cycles... He
couldn’t just let Cassandra flounder through life scared and
uninformed. She needed the support and guidance of her own kind.
After all, how long could he keep drugging her to prevent a
complete change before she balked? The potent sedative that Dr.
Freidrich—a well payed actor—prescribed was doing the job for now
but for how long? Already the girl was questioning subtle
differences between herself and her peers.

Yes, finding a
pack to accept her was the best solution. He wouldn’t live forever
and she couldn’t be left alone. Wolves needed a pack. The trouble
with that was their damned laws and secretive way of life. After
all, you couldn’t just go out and advertise! And so, he’d spent the
last seventeen years looking unsuccessfully for evidence of packs.
Unsuccessful that is, until he purchased the Taylor picture. Now he
knew there was a pack out there. The question remained, where?

Melody Greene was
his hope. Aldrich scoffed at his choice, but after viewing secretly
taped footage of her, Greyson knew she was the one. He’d watched
the videos of her, fascinated by the subtle signs she was showing,
signs he would have passed over if he hadn’t watched Cassie growing
up. The way she lifted her head slightly and sniffed the air, the
way she cocked her head to listen... Greene didn’t know it, but she
had a werewolf someplace in her background.

It was an
unexpected turn of good fortune, finding Ms. Greene. Greyson
reasoned that if she found a pack and was accepted by them, then
there was an excellent chance that they would accept Cassandra too.
Once he knew their location, he’d establish Cassandra in a house in
the area—with secret body guards strategically living around her of
course—and then wait and watch for them to sense her.

*****

Melody had joined
Ryne in pacing across the small room. The strange feelings inside
her had subsided again; she refused to dwell on their meaning since
she had a sneaking suspicion they meant that a certain arrogant
werewolf was right and she was on the verge of transforming into
one of the beasts. No, it was just too fantastical to believe.
Instead, she’d concentrate on how to get out of this room before
Aldrich returned.

“So, what are we
going to do?”

Ryne ran his hands
through his hair. “I don’t know. I can’t break us out of here.”

“I thought
werewolves had all these superhuman powers and stuff.”

“Well, we do have
keener senses and are relatively stronger and faster than humans,
but there are limits. Bullet proof walls being one of them.”

“Oh.” She was sort
of disappointed in that one. If she was going to be a
werewolf—which she wasn’t, she reminded herself—she’d hoped for a
few more benefits than just being able to smell things really well.
Where was the advantage in that? Mel suppressed a shudder as she
imagined being keenly aware of the scent of public washrooms,
garbage, and the cabbage her one neighbour was so fond of cooking.
Ugh! Giving her head a little shake, she licked her lips and looked
around for a sink suddenly realizing that she was thirsty.
Strangely enough, there didn’t appear to be one. Hmm... “Hey,
Ryne?”

“Yeah?” He was
examining the door hinges.

“You said you
overheard Mr. Aldrich calling this a safe room, right?”

He grunted in
acknowledgment.

“And if this is a
safe room, people are planning on being holed up here for a while,
correct?”

“That’s usually
what they’re constructed for. What are you getting at?” He turned
and looked at her.

“So shouldn’t
there be supplies? Food? Water? Communications? Maybe even a
bathroom?”

He frowned and
then stared around the room. “You’re right. There should be. But
there isn’t.”

“You know, it was
always rumoured that the gangsters had secret rooms and hidden
escape tunnels. Maybe Greyson has one in this place.” She got up
and began pushing the bench aside, stamping the floor with her
foot, listening for a change in sound that might indicate a
tunnel.

Ryne joined in the
search, checking out the centre area of the room, then moving aside
a table. Melody was near the window when her stomping produced a
hollow, drum like sound. They both looked at each other and
grinned.

Melody dropped to
her knees and Ryne rushed over to help her, both running their
fingers over the floor, searching for a seam or finger hold. Soon
they were pulling back a section of floor board.

“You were right!”
Ryne smiled up at Mel as he lifted the heavy wooden panel. It
revealed a dark tunnel leading to somewhere under the shed. He lay
flat on his stomach and peered into the darkness. “It looks like
there’s a room down here. I’ll go and check it out. You wait
here.”

Mel nodded in
agreement. Usually she’d balk at being left behind, but she didn’t
like dark closed-in spaces and was still feeling a bit off. Just
this once, she’d let Ryne have the fun.

After a moment,
his voice echoed up at her. “It’s a short tunnel and then there’s a
room at the end. I think there’s also a way out through the
sewer.”

The sewer? She
wrinkled her nose at the idea, picturing creepy crawly things and
filth. “I’m not so sure about that, Ryne. There are probably rats
down there.”

“Ah, come on!” His
voice held a teasing quality. “You’re a big bad wolf now. You’re
not going to let little rodents best you.”

“I’m not a
werewolf!”

Ryne appeared at
the entrance to the tunnel, shaking his head. “You’ll have to face
the fact sooner or later.”

She folded her
arms and gave him a mutinous stare.

“All right. We’ll
leave it for now.” He rolled his eyes and held out his hand. “Come
on down, Melody, and don’t worry. I’m big and bad enough for both
of us. No rat in its right mind would bother me.”

Reluctantly, she
sat down and dangled her feet into the hole. “Whoever said rats are
in their right mind?”

Chapter
38

Aldrich slowly
drove through the massive gates that marked the entrance of the
Greyson estate and made his way to the safe room at the back of the
property. He’d gone to his apartment to gather the small tool box
he used to maintain his various listening devices and surveillance
cameras. After all, he’d told Greyson he was adjusting the
equipment, and he wouldn’t put it past the man to check up on
him.