Magick Rising (58 page)

in any way. Unfortunately, he suspected his own sense of well-being while in

the comfort of her home had transmitted itself to her. She seemed very

sensitive to his moods, even more now that they had made love.

His inner wolf was all too close to the surface during this cycle of the

moon. Normally, he kept it thoroughly locked down, hidden, especially

when it came to dealing with innocents like Beth. But maybe he should let it

show a little, let her know exactly what beastliness lurked beneath the

surface.

As she leaned over to set the table, he loosened the restraints he kept on

the monster within and a surge of fierce animal satisfaction licked through

him.

She jumped and stared at him. Good—she felt that.

“What’s wrong?” he asked casually.

“Nothing,” she said, clutching the basket of rolls to her belly. “It’s just

that you—” She broke off, obviously unable to explain what she had felt.

“Went a little wild there for a moment?”

She nodded.

He shrugged. “It happens. The wolf is always within me, trying to get

out. Sometimes I have problems controlling it.” There. That should scare

the bejesus out of her.

It did. He could scent her rising panic. Then, abruptly, it was cut off.

Slamming the basket down on the table, she said, “Horse hockey.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s a bunch of horse manure,” she said with narrowed eyes.

“You’re just trying to scare me.”

Damn. She was as bright as she was beautiful. Another surge of bestial

longing burst out, this time unplanned. “Not entirely,” he said wryly.

“Well, it won’t work. I saw you change, and I still want to be a

werewolf.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “Are you a masochist?”

“No, I just want to live. Enduring a little pain each month seems like a

good trade-off.”

“A
little
pain?”

“Okay, a lot,” she admitted. “But the alternative is worse—having my

brain eaten away more and more each day, unable to do anything about it,

eventually unable to even care for myself. Can’t you see why I want this?”

“I see why you
think
you do. But you’ve only witnessed a small part of

my life.” And she had probably romanticized it as well. “You have no idea

what it’s really like. Besides, you’d just be trading one terminal disease for

another.”

She tilted her chin again and glared at him. “Don’t you think that’s
my

decision?”

“No, I don’t.” He leaned toward her, capturing her gaze with his own,

willing her to believe him. “If Huntington’s would cure my illness, would

you wish it on me willingly, knowing what you know about it . . . knowing

you would condemn me to a slow death?”

She wanted to say yes, he could tell, but she couldn’t do it without lying.

“No, but that’s different.”

“No, it’s not.”

“But it is,” she insisted. “If you turn me into a werewolf, you wouldn’t

be condemning me to death—you’d be condemning me to life.”

“Condemn is right. It’s a cursed life, a horrible one.” He paused,

wondering what he could possibly say to make her understand. “Look, it’s

not just the change, though that’s the worst of it. But the rest is just as bad.

You can’t make friends, can’t let anyone close enough to learn your secret

without fear of ending up in a loony bin or a government lab. Even if you do

manage to make friends and keep it from them, you can’t make plans

without checking to see when the moon is full.” He let his stare intensify,

hoping to get across to her the utter loneliness of his existence. “No friends,

no family, no life. And, like me, it will eventually take your life anyway. I

won’t do that to you.”

Beth shook her head, obviously rejecting his assessment. “Please,

Duncan, you must. You said if I watched your transformation—”

He cut her off with an abrupt gesture. “I said I’d consider it. I have. The

answer is no.” And it wouldn’t change, no matter how much she begged.

Looking frustrated, she asked, “What can I do to convince you I want

this, that this is the best thing for me?”

“Nothing.” He didn’t want her to get her hopes up.

She paused for a moment, visibly considering. “What if . . . What if you

could get your heart’s desire?”

“Huh?”

She gave him a measuring glance. “I invoked Lupa last night.”

He felt a shiver of unease, glad he had missed that part of the evening.

“And?”

“And She said I’d get my heart’s desire and you would get yours if you

would just give in.”

That again. Wearily and with more than a touch of annoyance, Duncan

said, “But my heart’s desire is to be rid of this. How does giving in help

that?”

“No, there’s something more than that,” Beth insisted. “There has to

be. What else do you want? Think about it this way—what would you want

if you weren’t a werewolf?”

A home, a wife, a family . . . Duncan shook his head in frustration,

trying to ignore the stab of pain that reminded him that was impossible.

Why not just rip his heart out now? “It’s not important.”

“It
is
important. She said you could have it, whatever it is. Maybe I can

help you find what you’re looking for.”

He closed his eyes against her compassion. But that was a mistake. As

soon as he did, he saw a vision of what life would be like with Beth as his

wife. A nice, normal existence with a home and family, a love life . . .

He forced his eyes open, reminding himself not to hope for what he

could never have. This was reality. Though he wanted the dream

desperately, he wouldn’t pursue it at the risk of her life. For her sake, he

wouldn’t turn her into a werewolf. “No, you can’t help me find my heart’s

desire. It doesn’t exist.”

She tried to argue with him, but he changed the subject. Continually. All

day long, she continued to hound him about being a werewolf and naming

his heart’s desire.

When she asked one more time at dinner, he’d had enough. Slamming

his fork down on the table, he said, “I’m not going to change my mind. Stop

asking, damn it.”

He realized she’d never give up, never cease bothering him until he did

as she asked . . . or she died. Both alternatives were too agonizing to

contemplate. Not only that, but he hated being the embodiment of her

temptation.

He put down his napkin and rose from the table. He still had a little

time before the sun went down, but now seemed like a good time to lock

himself in. He smiled wryly to himself. This was the first time he’d ever

thought of his cage as a refuge. “It’s getting close to sunset. I’d better go.”

“I’ll go with you,” she said.

He didn’t encourage her, but she followed him anyway out to the cold

garage. Paranoia made him recheck the security of his cage every night, and

tonight he welcomed the distraction. Once he was certain it was secure, he

opened the cage door and locked himself inside.

Beth came closer, looking determined.

The thought of her watching him turn into a beast again ripped at his

heart. Hoping to scare her off, he said, “Planning on watching the horror

show again tonight?”

“You might say that,” she said, her chin lifting as she rolled up the

sleeve on her left arm and came closer to the cage.

When she didn’t do the same on the right arm, he glared at her

suspiciously. “What are you doing?”

“I’m doing what you won’t. I’m saving my own life.”

He stared at her bared wrist, so naked, so vulnerable. Was she planning

on sticking her arm inside the cage? Inside with the
wolf
? “Get out of here,”

he snarled, feeling the beast rise within him.

“No. I can be just as stubborn as you are. Your wolf will bite me, and

I’ll be turned.”

“You don’t understand,” Duncan said, gripping the bars, wishing he

could reach through them and wring her neck. “I can’t control myself when

I change. I’m too savage. I might do a lot more than just bite you. I might rip

your arm off.”

“I’m willing to take that chance,” Beth said.

“Well, I’m not. Don’t make me do this.” But it was too late for reason

or anything else. As Duncan howled in frustration, the change began.

DUNCAN WOKE ON the floor of his cage once more, aching and cold.

But this time, a sense of unidentified urgency filled him. He struggled with

confusion for a moment then remembered.

Beth. He’d left her alone with his ravening beast, unprotected. He

surged to his feet, glancing wildly around for some sign of her. Nothing. No

blood on the floor. That had to be good, right?

Not necessarily. Not if she’d wrapped her arm in something after he

savaged her. Fear stabbed at his heart.
Dear Lord, what had happened?

Beth couldn’t be hurt. He wouldn’t allow it to be true. He fumbled with

the lock, and for once in his life, he prayed. Not to the God he had grown up

with, but to the goddess who had claimed him as Hers, who had possessed

Beth for a short time.
Lupa, let Beth be all right. Let her be unharmed and whole.

A ghostly whisper threaded through his mind.
And do you think you deserve

this boon?

No, but she does,
Duncan thought fiercely. Beth had fought so hard to

live, to make each moment count. She didn’t deserve to die, not like this.

And if he had been the instrument of her destruction, he’d never forgive

himself. Impotent rage filled Duncan. But first he had to get out of this

damned
cage
.

Finally, his fingers unthawed enough to work the lock. The next few

moments were the longest of his life as he burst out of the garage and ran

into the house, searching for her.

He found her in bed, her eyes closed. Was she dead? “Beth!”

She jerked awake. “What?”

Incredible relief weakened his knees, made it difficult to stand.
She’s

alive.

He sent a silent prayer of thanks to Lupa. In answer, stark amusement

skittered through his mind. He didn’t care. Beth was alive.

Guilt smashed through Duncan. “What happened? Let me see your

arm. Are you all right?”

She sat up and showed him her left arm. No blood, no bandages, no

bite.

Confused, he asked, “What? Did the wolf protect you? Refuse to bite

you?”

She shook her head. “I had every intention of sticking my arm through

those bars, but I just couldn’t.”

Love and compassion surged through him. Overwhelmed with feeling,

he gathered her into his arms and kissed her, letting his lips express his

gratitude. “Thank God. Were you too afraid?” Or had she come to her

senses finally?

She shrugged, trying to act nonchalant though he knew the decision

must have cost her. “No. When you said, ‘Don’t make me do this’, I realized

Marta took your choice away from you when she made you into a werewolf.

I—I couldn’t do the same thing to you.”

He stopped in mid-caress. Oh, damn, like he’d just done to Beth. He

winced. Though she didn’t condemn his gall in making the decision for
her
,

he knew how arrogant it was. He was wrong to deny her that decision,

wrong to make it for her. It was her life—she deserved to make this choice

herself. No matter how much it hurt him.

Clearing his suddenly tight throat, Duncan asked, “Are you sure you

want to be a werewolf?”

Her eyes widened. “Yes of course. Why . . . ?”

He shook his head. “I may regret this when you vilify me later, but . . .

I’ll do it.”

Her face blossomed into a smile. “You’ll do it? You’ll really make me

into a werewolf?”

He nodded. “Yes, tonight.”

BETH SQUEALED IN delight and threw her arms around his neck. She

didn’t know what had made him change his mind, and she wasn’t going to

ask. She didn’t care.

“But I have a couple of conditions,” he said, his voice strangely thick.

She pulled back and glared at him, daring him to renege. “What?”

“First, we figure out a way to do this as safely as possible.”

“Okay. What else?”

“If it works, after I’m gone, you have to promise to get Ian’s help when

you change. Just in case.”

“Okay,” Beth said, sobering at the reminder of Duncan’s upcoming

demise. “I promise.”

“Maybe I should ask Ian to come tonight as well, in case you’re badly

hurt.”

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea. What if he disinfects it so the

change doesn’t happen?”

“I don’t know if it can be disinfected.”

“Exactly,” Beth said. “You don’t know, so let’s not chance it. Whatever

happens, I’ll heal later, right?”

“Right. At least, that’s how it worked on me.”

“So, how does this work?” Beth asked.

“I’m not sure. According to Marta, I’ll have to bite you as a wolf, so

we’ll have to wait until I wolf out.” He gave her a wry grin. “Looks like

you’re going to have to stick your arm in the cage after all.”

“No biggie.”