Magick Rising (55 page)

the news for fear he would learn second-hand of the hideous things he’d

done.

“Does it happen that way still?” she said softly, fearfully.

“No. I have a cage I lock myself in now. It’s made of silver so I can’t get

out when I . . . change. Silver is painful to me in wolf form—that part of the

legend is true.” It even stung a bit as a man, but she didn’t need to know that.

“But—”

“No buts.” He rose to his feet, needing to move, feeling like a caged

beast.

Beth stopped him with a gesture. “Wait. Let me finish the ritual first,

then we can talk.”

He nodded then watched impatiently as she thanked the powers and

used the dagger to reverse the invisible circle she had drawn around them

earlier. Once she had done that, some of the tension left the air.

“I’ll just clean up a little, first,” she said and pinched out the candles.

Her hand spasmed, and she knocked the athame off the table. Her disease?

He leapt to assist her, but she said, “No, don’t.”

“I just wanted to help.”

“I know,” she said, not meeting his eyes. “But I need to do things for

myself, for as long as I can.”

“All right.” Raising his hands, he backed away and waited in the living

room while she did her thing in the kitchen.

But once he sat down, he let his shoulders slump. It was over, then.

There was no cure, no hope for a normal life with a wife and family. His

dreams had dissolved like so much wet tissue, leaving him nothing but

shreds of hopelessness.

Beth must have read it in his face, for when she came back in the room,

she gave him a concerned look. “You mustn’t give up.”

When the only alternative is to become a wolf forever? Forget it.
But he was tired

of discussing it. Wanting to reassure her, he said, “Don’t worry. You’ve

done everything you promised to do. I appreciate it.”

She persisted. “Lupa said you
could
live.”

Beth had risked herself to get an answer from the wolf goddess, no

matter how useless that answer was. He owed her an explanation. But,

exasperated with her persistence and wanting to put an end to this

discussion, he said, “She said I could find what I seek if I gave in to Her,

became a wolf forever. But a choice between dying or losing my humanity

forever is no choice at all.”

“But I was inside Her head. She believed this would help you, that this

was a viable alternative. Are you sure?”

Duncan’s mouth twisted in a smile that was anything but amused.

“From Her perspective, it is—She’d gain a new, powerful wolf in her pack.

From my perspective, I’d lose everything.”

Beth’s mouth firmed. “I don’t believe that. I think there’s another way.

There must be.”

“Like what?” he challenged.

“I don’t know. But you can’t give up. You have to let me keep trying.”

Duncan didn’t see how she could be so positive when the answer had

been so clear. “Okay,” he said to placate her. He didn’t want to give up

either, but he feared she’d be wasting her time. Instead of chasing after a

nonexistent cure, it seemed he had no choice but to make peace with dying.

OVER THE NEXT twelve days, Beth’s life took on a strange new routine.

During the day, she worked on her simple herbal crafts while Duncan fixed

things. After dinner each evening, she taught him meditative techniques to

control the rising wolf, encouraged him to get in tune with nature, to see the

positive in what Lupa suggested.

He needed it. As the visible surface of the moon grew each night, so did

the manifestations of the wolf. It ought to have made her more afraid, but

she couldn’t fear him. He seemed to see her as fragile, needing protection

against cold breezes, stray dogs, and any man who came near her in the

supermarket.

She normally rebelled against anyone trying to cosset her, but since it

seemed to be more a part of his inherent nature as an alpha wolf than

because he sensed weakness in her, she let him do the macho thing. Besides,

it seemed to calm him and fill some unspoken need—in him as well as her.

Strange. She rather liked having him around. The combination of his

protectiveness along with his kindness in repairing her home, and his

undeniable virility made him very appealing. Though she’d given up any

hope of a real relationship, Duncan made her long for more.

Beth had to admit it—she had the hots for the guy. At first, she tried to

blame it on Lupa, but that excuse didn’t hold up. The sexual attraction she

had felt for Duncan while Lupa had been in control of her body had been

strong, aggressive, domineering. But this . . . this was different.

Insidious and sneaky, it pervaded every corner of her being, popping up

at odd times to catch her unaware, leaving her feeling needy at a glimpse of

his broad shoulders as he chopped wood or breathless with anticipation

when she caught the scent of his musky essence.

Against her will, she was drawn to him more and more, finding excuses

to touch him, be close to him. It didn’t matter that he was a werewolf. In

fact, the lurking danger only added to the spice. And the fact that he

appeared just as attracted to her added a piquant flavor to the mix, making it

extremely difficult not to act on her feelings.

But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. The loss of control over her own

emotions was disturbing. Afraid to let go for fear her whole life would come

unraveled, she tried to pretend the tension vibrating between them didn’t

exist.

It was more difficult in the evenings, when the sun went down. Things

that seemed impossible in the light of day suddenly seemed attainable, even

desirable.

To keep her feelings at bay, Beth used the late evenings to entreat the

gods and goddesses to help her find a cure for Duncan. She pushed herself a

little harder than she should have, but she wanted to help him as much as

she could.

Unfortunately, none of the other deities she called upon were able to be

of any assistance. Night after night, she heard the same thing—she’d already

received her answer and should look no further. Or they didn’t respond at

all.

Tonight was no exception. The ritual complete, she dropped into a

chair and rubbed her aching forehead. “I’m sorry,” she told Duncan, who

had followed her into the living room.

“No need to apologize,” he rumbled behind her in his deep voice. “You

did your best . . . and it’s taken its toll on you. Here, let me help.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders and massaged them. She couldn’t

help it—she stiffened. Having his hands on her was exactly what she

wanted—and dreaded. But Goddess help her, it felt good.

“Relax,” he whispered. “You’re too tense. No wonder you have a

headache.”

He moved his hands to her temples and rubbed them in gentle circles.

She felt a little more comfortable now that his hands were in a safer, less

erogenous zone. Some of her headache eased.

He moved to her neck, kneading the stiff muscles there, relaxing them.

She was very conscious of the fact that he could break her neck easily in his

big hands, but she knew he wouldn’t harm her, even though his impatience

had become almost palpable. She felt it each time her rituals ended in failure.

But still, he kneaded gently . . . and she let him.

But when he returned to massaging her shoulders, a prickling

awareness built within her, along with a seductive daydream. She imagined

what it would be like if he were to let his hands roam down her breasts, to

slip them under her clothing, to roll her tightening nipples between his

fingers.

As if in response to her fantasy, his movements turned more sensual as

he slowed, taking wider sweeps of his hands until the tips of his fingers slid

under her neckline to brush the top of her breasts.

Almost gasping with the flare of need, she stood up, rubbing her neck

to remove the feel of his fingers. “Thank you,” she said, trying to keep her

voice steady. “I feel better now.”

“Why do you pull away?”

She risked a glance at his face and saw that his eyes had turned dark

with desire. “I’m not comfortable with . . .” She trailed off and gestured

vaguely, not wanting to admit how intimate his actions felt.

“But you were enjoying it,” he said softly.

She backed away, her hand going to her throat in a protective gesture.

“What . . . what do you mean?”

He placed his fists on the soft back of the chair and leaned toward her,

giving her an intense stare. “I’m very close to the beast now, and that means

my senses are very acute.” He locked his gaze with hers, keeping her frozen

in place while he rounded the chair with easy grace and stood in front of her.

As her heart beat faster, he fingered a lock of her hair and whispered,

“Whenever I touch you, I feel the heat rise within you, scent your awareness

of my body . . . taste your arousal.”

He could smell her? How embarrassing. “But—”

“It’s been driving me crazy,” he murmured, staring hungrily into her

eyes. “You want me. I want you.” He ran both hands down her bare arms,

setting her nerve endings tingling. “Why don’t we act on this . . . attraction?”

Attraction? That’s not what she’d call it. Obsession maybe. He was like

a siren, using his magic to suck her in to his spell. No, that wasn’t

right—sirens were women. He was more like an incubus, tempting her

unbearably with carnal pleasures. But unlike those in the thrall of an

incubus, she still had the power to resist. Barely.

Beth stepped back, out of his grasp, and rubbed her arms where he had

touched her. “No, we shouldn’t.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Her gaze slid away from his. “I don’t deny that I’m attracted to you, but

I’m a civilized being. Just because I feel . . . an urge doesn’t mean I have to

act on it.”

He cocked his head and regarded her curiously. “What are you afraid

of?”

Many things, but none she cared to share with him. “Nothing,” she lied.

He stepped forward again to caress her cheek, but she pulled away.

“Why now?” she asked, trying to distract him. “Why
me
? Are you in rut or

something?”

He gave her a twisted smile. “No. My emotions are much closer to the

surface now, but the beast doesn’t control that part of me. Especially since

you’ve helped me control it with meditation and the peace of your home. As

for why you, that should be obvious. You’re a beautiful woman, Beth.

You’re kind, gentle, loving. Do you have any idea how seductive that is to a

man like me?”

Beth swallowed hard, wishing the awareness that throbbed between

them would just go away. She wanted to make love to him, desperately, but

she couldn’t get emotionally involved. Not when he might die in a few days.

She needed him to back off, to give her some breathing space. “I just need a

little time, that’s all.”

“We don’t have a lot of time,” he growled. “Tomorrow night, I

change.”

“So?” She knew that—he’d been very careful to remind her, every day.

“You won’t be so willing to make love to me once you observe that.”

Who said she was willing now?

A longing ache blossomed within her. Hell, there was no fooling

herself. Her body revealed her enthusiasm all too plainly.

“This is the last time I’ll be able to make love to a woman, any woman,”

he said softly. “Say yes.”

Damn. A last wish? She wanted to, Goddess knew she wanted to, but

she couldn’t. She shouldn’t. Beth shook her head helplessly.

He leaned closer and whispered, “Don’t worry. I can control my

wolf . . . until tomorrow evening. Let me make love to you, Beth. Tonight.”

“I can’t.”

He frowned. “Why? Do you fear getting pregnant?”

“No. I have protection.”

“Well, if it’s a sexually transmitted disease you’re worried about, don’t.

I’m clean. I swear. You can’t catch anything from me. It’s impossible for me

to get sick.”

Impossible? Her attention suddenly arrested, she asked, “What do you

mean by that?”

“No disease can stand against the ferocity of lycanthropy. It’s so

powerful, it exterminates any other invaders in my blood to keep me

healthy—disgustingly so.”

“Nothing can stand against it?” she asked in rising hope. “Are you sure

about that?”

“Yes. Ian ran a full series of tests on my blood, trying to find a cure.

When that didn’t work, he experimented with the most virulent diseases

known to mankind, hoping one of them would counteract the lycanthropy.

Nothing worked.”

Conviction suddenly filled her. She knew now why Ian had sent his

brother here . . . and what he really thought Duncan might do for her.

A flood of emotions seized her, each vying for dominance—wild hope,

trepidation, and amazement at her audacity of thinking the unthinkable. But

they eventually all melded together, leaving one emotion very clear. She