Yearnings: A Paranormal Romance Box Set (94 page)

“
You don’t even know his room number.”

“
So tell me.”

Bea clamped her mouth and shook her head.

“
I’ll just knock on every door until I land on the right ones, then.”

She left Bea gaping and decided to start on the next level down. Nick and Grant both seemed to always be coming up to the room rather than down.

“
Fine,” Bea called out behind her, slamming her cabin door shut. “Just fine. But I swear to you Leigh, if Nick begs off finishing this investigation, I’ll be laying full blame on your shoulders.”

Whoa. When Bea got mad, she really got mad. It was a good thing Leigh had no intentions of finding Nick at all. Nope. Even if it meant getting those ship’s officers from yesterday to help her do it, she was going to find Grant instead.

~~~

Chapter Thirteen

“
They’re holding him,” Nick informed them.

“
What? On what charges?” Beatrice demanded, pacing Nick’s room.

Leigh felt kicked in the belly. “Murder?”

“
No. Not as bad as all that.” An unspoken ‘yet’ hung in his words. “Disorderly conduct, possibly indecent exposure. They found him naked.”

Of course they found him naked. He’d shifted into the wolf and lost his clothing. Who cared? All she cared about was what happened after the shift. “We have to get them to release him.”

“
I’ve already tried,” Nick said. “They’ll turn him over to port authorities or the police, I imagine, once we arrive tomorrow.”

“
They’ll charge him in New York?” Bea asked. “Have you seen him? Is he hurt?”

“
No. I made a casual inquiry this morning. I thought I should check with you first. We don’t want to raise their suspicions that there’s more to this than what they’ve charged him with. Being upset is one thing, but a simple matter like indecent exposure isn’t something we need to ask a lot of questions about.” He looked pointedly at Leigh. “Combined with our arguments, I think they’ll take him as a troublemaker. Hopefully nothing more.”

This morning? It was already past noon! “Why didn’t you tell us right away?” Leigh said, which earned her another measuring glance. Probably wondering why she cared so much. She should be wondering the same thing, but refused to. Right now, she needed to see Jacob. Jacob would be able to tell her what had really happened, and if Grant were uninjured or under suspicion.

Nick didn’t answer her. Not that she expected him to. She should be focusing on Beatrice pacing the room, chewing her thumbnail to the quick. “You know a man was killed, then?”

Nick nodded. “Mauled by a dog, yes. But if that dog was Grant in wolf form, I don’t see how they could prove it.”

“
He has so little control over it. That would mean he switched forms twice in a matter of days. What if he shifts right where they’re holding him for anyone to see?” Bea said, more to herself, it seemed, than to either Nick or Leigh.

Leigh slouched into a chair and put her face into her hands. Over and again, with her mind and heart, she asked Jacob to just come back.
Please, come back to me.
She even concentrated on the wolf, out of concern for the wolf. He was attached to that wolf, and yet, nothing worked.

“
Leigh,” Beatrice said. “Can you... somehow see if Grant is safe?”

Lord, how she wished. She shook her head in defeat. “I’m sorry. It doesn’t work that way for me. I can’t.”

Beatrice sat, too, on the edge of the bunk-like bed. “Alright. I’ll go to the ship’s captain and discover what they plan to do with him.”

“
No. I will,” Nick said. “I should have in the first place. I just didn’t want to create undue attention. I’ll find out what they intend. Tomorrow, whatever bail or fine he faces, we’ll take care of it. It will delay travel, but as long as he doesn’t face murder charges, so be it.”

Beatrice nodded in sage agreement. Leigh nodded as well, though her belly felt sick and her head ached with worry. She blamed the disturbing feelings on Jacob being away so long. He’d never left her for more than a matter of hours. She told herself it was silly to think that he could be in danger. He was a ghost. What harm could possibly come to him?

But reminding herself made no difference. She was scared for him as much as for Grant. Nick and Beatrice exchanged a strained good-bye, and she and Beatrice returned to their suite. Leigh stared at the walls for the rest of the day, watched Beatrice stab her needlepoint, and eventually slept the most restless night of her life. It was a miracle she slept at all.

***

Grant slipped out of unconsciousness. His arm hung from a narrow bunk. He rolled onto his back. How much time had elapsed? Hours? Days? The room hurt to look at. He kept his eyes shut. The arrest. His head injury. He remembered that much. They weren’t holding him for murder. Or were they? If not, how long would he skate by with a misdemeanor?

The longer he lay there, the more blanks he filled in. Being arrested, held, and transferred? Yes. At some point, they moved him from a four-bunk holding room to the ship’s infirmary. More bunks, and an annoying little thing of a nurse who kept prying each of his eyes open and taking his pulse. She’d just finished, and probably that was what awakened him.

If not her, maybe the retching moans of the man a couple of bunks down. For the love of God, why wouldn’t that nurse put the man out of his misery? Between her poking and the man’s puking, Grant considered making a break for it, room spinning or not.

He might not be able to stand. Maybe he could crawl.

He never should have complained about his head in the first place. What was a little headache compared to killing a man and being found naked and passed out? But head maladies and heart complaints apparently got first priority, even for “detainees.”

At least the holding room had been quiet, and he’d been alone. Leigh must have suffered as badly as that poor man, yet came out of it giving ship’s security and him attitude. He liked the little scrapper in her. He liked a few too many things about her, in fact. Too bad admiration couldn’t cure migraines. His stabbing temples, plus the shock of waking up knowing that he’d mauled a man, were threatening to pull him back under.

“
Ooooaaaagggth,” the man puked, leaning over, clutching his belly.

Grant would take his headache and shut up. Really, he should be worried about the arrest. But if they held him here, things couldn’t be that bad. There’d been no blood, a first. If he’d been covered in blood, they’d have him chained up, migraine or not. How had the wolf gotten rid of all that blood? Sharp pain axed through his right temple and eyeball.

He’d followed that man. He meant to save the woman. He recalled very specific, albeit minuscule, details as the wolf. The sharp light spiking out of the man’s neck, and how it hurt his eyes. The man’s throat snapping under Grant’s jaws and the ear-numbing scream that followed—the woman’s scream.

After that, the fog of being full wolf took over. Pure emotion. Nothing definable. It was as if he’d lived it and felt it, but the details simply didn’t stay in his mind. They left as soon as they happened. Grant had the feeling of what happened, but not many images or words to attach to the events. Thinking about it made his head throb that much more, though, so he tried to think of nothing.

Nothing. Nice try.

The second he attempted to clear all memory away, thoughts of Leigh pushed through. Her pert nose with the sprinkle of freckles on it, and the way she seemed to see right through his bristly facade. The way she had stroked his cheek, looked at him with pure love, all the way through to the end, when he’d kissed her. He’d lied to himself, asking Beatrice and Nick to leave. He hadn’t wanted answers. He wanted her. Touching her and kissing her became irresistible. Deep, deep down he wanted to claim her for his own, and heaven help any man who questioned it.

Absolutely unacceptable. Ludicrous. He hardly knew the girl, and one intense kiss did not warrant such possessive emotions. The wolf in him was taking over, destroying who he was and disintegrating his self-control. He wanted it gone before it took far more than hours of his life. Before it took his very identity.

When they got to San Francisco, he would have to return to Lijuan and beg her to remove this wolf-soul. When she’d rescued him that night, she’d summoned the wolf to save his life, to help find Tristan—not to destroy him. Something must have gone wrong with his soul cohabiting with the wolf’s. From seeing the golden glow of trapped souls, to the undeniable need to free them, right down to lying in a bed, feeling trampled by a team of horses.

None of this helped to find Tristan.

Grant watched the nurse helping the heaving man. Who would help him? With the wolf being so present and in so much control, was it too late? Not simply too late for him. Too late for Tristan? He was thinking of himself again, selfishly, yes. But if Tristan
was
alive, as Leigh vowed, what horrors had he lived through these last three years at the hands of Grant’s enemies? Grant’s eyes stung with tears.

“
Oh, God,” the man two bunks over moaned. “Please.”

Grant blinked, swiping away the wetness at each corner. He hadn’t begged for God in a very long time. Staring at the ceiling, the pain in his temples eased when his eyes adjusted to the low light of the lamps. Movement in the corner drew his eyes. He rolled to his side and peered closer. Nothing but shadows. Slowly, he sat up.

The nurse spotted him and shuffled over. “Feeling better?”

“
Much, thank you,” he lied. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“
Off and on, five or so hours. You’ll need to be monitored a few more hours, so I can wake you. You’ve suffered a concussion, but seem to be doing better.”

He calculated. They must have transferred him after dinner. He’d thrown the entire meal up. No security standing around anywhere here, though. “And my new friends? Where are they?”

She laughed. “Friends, huh? Well, your friends don’t seem to like you very much. But don’t you worry. Until we pull into port come dawn, you’re in my care, not theirs.”

“
I expect I’ll have more friends there waiting for my arrival.”

“
Oh, I know some friends do enjoy a good surprise like that. But I couldn’t guess how many you’ve made the last two days.” She finished taking his pulse and had him follow her finger with his eyes. “How much do you remember?”

“
It’s pretty foggy.”

“
Do you know how you hit your head?” She crossed her arms under her ample breasts. “It will certainly help me evaluate how to gauge this quick recovery you’re making.”

“
Two hits,” he said. He had this post-wolf story down pat by now. “When the gentleman took offense to my buying his girl a drink, his fist my face, one. When my face hit the floor, makes two.” He glanced down at his ill-fitting ensemble. “I think he decided it would be fun to take my clothes.”

“
So that’s how you make friends so fast. Flirting with other men’s girls?”

Grant gave his best boyish grin. “That and my magnetic personality.”

She chuckled deep in her chest, making her ample bosom jiggle. He could see he’d won her over. “What time is it?”

She pulled out a small timepiece. “It’s 4:07 a.m. Lie back down for me.”

“
That early? That’s enough time to watch the sun rise over the water.”

“
Uh-uh, no sir. Don’t even try it, handsome.”

He had the grace to look abashed. “If I leave you the shirt off my back and swear I’ll return, can I beg you for one hour? There’s someone very worried about me. I just want to be sure she knows I’m safe.”

She narrowed her eyes at him and rocked her weight onto one hip. Grant steepled his hands under his chin and mouthed, “Please?”

He’d meant the offer as a gesture but when she put her hand out, palm up, and wiggled her fingers, Grant saw she was calling his bluff. “Give the shirt here. I’m thinking if you want to leave that badly, a shirt is the least of your worries.”

Grant hesitated. What was she really testing him for? It went against his upbringing to be so uncouth to actually undress.

“
Medically speaking, I’ve already seen nearly every inch of you anyhow and don’t flatter yourself.” She rolled her eyes and closed them, hand still out.

“
Bless you.” He stood up and yanked the coarse sweater over his head, draping it on her outstretched arm. “If I’m gone more than the one hour, I swear I’ll tell them I escaped.”

“
You won’t have to,” she said. “I’ll already have done so myself. Now get on with you, before I change my mind.”

Grant could have kissed her, but didn’t want to waste a second of his gifted time. He just hoped an hour would be enough. And that he’d be able to wake Leigh up, but not his sister.

The pain behind his eyes receded to a dull throb. He raked his mind for an image of how the wolf had gotten away after releasing the soul. He’d killed that man. No question there. No man could survive that bite. No matter how many times he remembered the stolen soul he’d set free, he’d killed a man. He’d ripped his throat out. Grant was a murderer. An animal. Maybe he’d saved that woman, too. Maybe two rights were worth the single, terrible wrong.