Mellizo Wolves (20 page)

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Authors: Lynde Lakes

BOOK: Mellizo Wolves
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He found himself moving toward her, unable to ignore the
lure. Her gold-flecked eyes were ablaze with amusement. A trickle of water slid
between her breasts. “Hi, Victoria, looks like you’re back to normal and
enjoying the beautiful sunny day.” The huskiness in his voice probably gave
away his forbidden desire. When she traced her fingers down his arm, heat
rushed to his lower extremities.

Damn. She was toying with him, but he didn’t really want
her to stop. He wanted to play, too, and see how she liked it. He bent toward
her and paused inches from her lips. He ached for the dangerous pleasure of her
warm, searching mouth on his. He hovered there, certain his breath was
caressing her lips, tantalizing her.

The satisfied glint in her eyes for what she expected to
happen made him determined it wouldn’t. Not today. Not ever.

Then she laughed in his face and dived into the pool.
Damn
her.

 

* * *
*

 

Damon put his arm around Angela as they entered the lab.
“Remember, let me do the talking.” Lazar was surrounded by labeled vials in
varied sizes and shapes. Damon detected the smell of blood and the scent of
wolves as they paced their cages.

“Excuse me, Lazar. We need a few minutes of your time. It’s
important.”

Lazar looked up and met Damon’s gaze, his piercing ice-blue
eyes masked.

“Angela’s friend Kat is missing and she mentioned she had a
date with you last night.”

He sighed. “Unfortunately, she stood me up.”

“Did she call?”

“Not a word. She must have chickened out at the last minute
and was ashamed to tell me. I think she’s living with a guy with an anger
management problem and was nervous about cheating on him.”

“Where were you supposed to meet?”

“Her pick. She was supposed to call me and let me know.”

Damon had the address of Lazar’s apartment complex and
planned to check it out.

“Lots of luck finding your friend. Since I haven’t heard
from her, I’m afraid I’m of little help. You might check with her hot tempered
boyfriend.” Lazar went back to recording his findings. When they just stood
there, he said. “I’m pretty busy. Is there something else?”

“Yes, have you heard of the moon poppy cure?” Damon asked.

“As a matter of fact, I have. It’s a temporary cure. It’s
good for a day on some people, only hours on others. But I’m working on a blood
extract that, combined with the poppies, might lead us to the permanent
solution we seek.”

Damon folded his arms across his chest. “I’m thinking of
moving the lab into my industrial park in L.A. We don’t really need to be here
on site anymore. My family is looking forward to its relocation and to
regaining their complete privacy.”

“I understand fully.” He glanced at Angela for the first
time and met her gaze with those icy eyes of his. “If you can just allow me
three more weeks, I can achieve my goals…our goals,” he said, correcting himself.
“And guarantee unparalleled success.”

“Don’t disappoint me,” Damon said. “Because a month from
today, this place is being relocated. I owe that to my family. They’ve been
extremely patient.”

Lazar’s smile didn’t meet his eyes. “Rome wasn’t built in a
day, Mrs. Lamont. But I’m grateful for the extra time. If I work diligently, I
may bring your discomfort to an end even sooner.”

Angela’s glaring, narrow-eyed expression told Damon she
wasn’t buying any of it. The best thing he could do was get her out of there
before she let loose on Lazar. Damon took her arm and headed out the door. At
least there wouldn’t be a full moon out for another month—unless a freakish
moon phase happened and a blue moon appeared. After all the elements that had
gotten out of balance in the last sixteen years, nothing would surprise him.

 

* * *
*

 

Angela closed her eyes in frustration, feeling the blood
pounding in her temples. It took everything in her power to wait until they
were back in their bedroom before she let loose on Damon. He tried to draw her
into his arms. She desperately needed to be held, but she couldn’t weaken on
this. “Nothing is solved,” she said, as her simmering rage consumed her. “I
didn’t swallow one word that slimy, white-coat weirdo uttered.”

“Look, we struck a compromise and kept him off guard. Now
we can check out his apartment and keep an eye on him without alerting him to
our doubts. Please, Angela, for our girls’ sake, and in Kat’s memory, work with
me on this.”

She stiffened. “Don’t you dare use our girls and Kat to
soften me up. I watched Lazar’s eyes and every sense in my body tells me he
lied about Kat not showing up. And that phony louse trying to switch the blame
to Deeto is ridiculous. He’d never harm Kat, even if she walked across his
chest wearing razorblade heels and carried a whip. And she’d never let Deeto
stop her from anything she wanted to do. And he liked their set up too much to
rock the boat. No, I’ll bet you a trip to Paris that she showed up and that
they got it on. Then he killed her.”

“Even if part of what you say is true, don’t forget a
werewolf killed her.”

“Maybe Lazar is a werewolf or somehow used a wolf to rip
her throat out.”

“What’s the motive?”

“Give me time. Damn it. I’ll find one.”

Damon’s expression tightened and his eyes blazed. “No!
You’re staying out of this. I mean it, Angela. Hugh, Rick, Deeto, and I will
find the fiend who did this. And because you have such strong feelings about
Lazar, we’ll start with him.”

“And I’ll bet you finish with him. Did you see his eyes?
The man is evil.

Chapter Ten

 

When Damon and Rick arrived at the apartment Lazar had
listed as his home address, they found a little old lady living there.
Threadbare white baggy sweats hung pitifully on her boney frame. Her
leathery-wrinkled skin, uncombed, long gray hair and dissipated, hard-living
look gave her the appearance of a homeless person.

“Ma’am. This is my security advisor, Rick Tanner, and I’m
Damon Lamont.” Rick flashed a temporary badge. Damon reminded himself to get
his private secretary to order a permanent one for him. “We had some problems
at my place of business and we’re doing an investigation on one of my
employees. How long have you been living here, ma’am?”

“Two months, but I was away for six weeks at rehab. Just
got back this morning.” Damon took in the well-maintained luxury apartments.
“I’ll bet the rent here is high.”

She snorted. “You mean too high for the likes of me?”

“No, ma’am, I—”

“That’s okay, mister, it is too high. No shame in calling
it like it is. This place was a gift from heaven.” She wiped her nose on her
sleeve and, in her whisky voice, said, “One of the regulars at a bar I used to
go to, Dudley was his name, well, he was some kinda cocky rich dude who always
wore cowboy boots. I was a li’l afraid of him and his squinty blue eyes, but he
turned out to be my guardian angel. He tol’ me I could have this place rent
free for a year, furniture and all.”

Dudley, generous? Damon doubted it. “What was the catch?”

She shrugged. “He tol’ me he’d signed a lease and paid a
year in advance then found a two-bedroom he liked better. I didn’t buy his
story, but this place was too good to pass up. I asked the manager and he said
it was okay for me to live here.”

Damon heard the TV blaring inside. “Do you have someone
staying with you?”

“Nah, but the manager says my nephew camped out here while
I was gone. But I ain’t got no nephew. Can you imagine the guts? Just taking
over my place while I was gone? I told Mr. Jenks to run off anyone from now on.
Don’t want any intruders digging around in my basket, so to speak.”

Damon wanted to ask her name, but he had a feeling the less
questions asked, the better. Instead, he decided to stick to queries that were
crucial to him and financially beneficial to her. He handed her a hundred
dollar bill. “May we come in and look around?” He wanted to give the place a
once over—and a luminol scan.

She frowned. He handed her another hundred.

“Okay. But don’t touch anything.” She quickly tucked the
money into her pocket and led the way.

The place was neat except for the stack of clothes dumped
on the couch. He scanned the entry rooms quickly while explaining the luminol
process. He omitted exactly what he was looking for. He worked slower in the
bedroom and wasn’t surprised when he found blood.

Buoyed by his findings, he moved on to the next step. He
talked to the manager to get a description of the phony nephew. He described
someone who resembled Lazar. The prickles at the back of Damon’s neck strongly
suggested that Angela might be right about the guy. If she was, what the hell
was he dealing with?

 

* * *
*

 

The sun hung low in the sky when Lazar pulled from the
paved employee parking area behind Damon’s three-car garage and headed down the
winding lane for the highway.

For this important occasion, he’d worn his grey pinstripe
suit and his super glossy black dress boots. Dress for success, his granny had
told him. He pressed harder on the accelerator, not wanting to arrive late for
his appointment with Dr. Fritz Hummel—two million for the cure for lycanthropy
was nothing to trifle with. Closing the deal was the first step to regaining
what was rightfully his when he had been Reeves—then came revenge. He laughed.
Damon had fronted all the costs but he, Lazar alias Reeves, got to reap all the
profits and settle old scores.

Up ahead, he spied Damon’s sexy twins. He slowed. The
timing was all wrong, but he couldn’t pass up this opportunity. He stopped the
car, leaned across the seat, and rolled down the window. “Need a ride girls?”

“No, we’re good,” Victoria said, tossing her long, onyx
hair.

Her flippant toss reminded him of the gesture his sister
used to make before he chewed her throat out. Unfortunately, when he planted
evidence against Damon, his dear half-brother slipped the noose. But all that
happened in a past lifetime when he was Reeves. Now, he was cleverer. Lazar
slid his tongue across his teeth to assure himself they were even. Then he
flashed a smile. “It’s at least a half mile to the highway. And several miles
down the hill. I hope you girls aren’t thinking of hitching a ride.”

Victoria shrugged and gave him a sassy look. “What are you,
Dad’s spy?”

Lazar laughed. “Hardly, but I think he’d rather have you
ride with someone he knows and trusts than a stranger.”

“A tourist bus comes down from Mt. Baldly twice a day,”
Valerie said. “The last one is due in about thirty minutes. We know the driver
and plan to hitch a ride with him.”

Lazar studied the twins. Both girls’ features were
basically the same, but there was something about Valerie that reminded him of
Angela. It wasn’t the hair or her more timid voice. Maybe it was the gentle curve
of her throat. He still recalled the softness of Angela’s flesh in another
lifetime when he sank his sharp incisors into it. Unfortunately, the orderly
stopped him before he could steal away her life.

“How about this deal? I’ll take you right to the door of
your destination.” Lazar glanced at his watch.
Damn it, girls, just get in
the car. I don’t have time to fool around.
“Come on, we can get to know
each other better.” He’d never done twins.

 

* * *
*

 

The evening shadows darkened the room and added to Angela’s
near panicky mood. She breathed in and out, trying to fight the emotions
swamping her, but she couldn’t. Dear God, according to Kyle, her girls got into
a car with Lazar! She flicked on the bedside lamp and hurriedly finished
dressing. Then she grabbed her keys from the nightstand. She wished Damon was
here. But she couldn’t wait. She tensed when he entered the bedroom, brimming
with excitement and smelling like sweat and his woodsy aftershave. He
approached quickly and kissed her temple. “Where have you been?”

Damon wrinkled his brow, no doubt wondering why she’d
spoken to him so sharply. “Rick and I were doing some investigating so I had my
cell off.”

Tension knotted her nerve endings. She leaned against the
dresser and folded her arms to hold herself together.

“We talked to the present occupant of the apartment Lazar
listed as his home,” Damon said. “And we acquired some additional and very
interesting information from the apartment manager.” Damon reached past her and
turned off the sad melody playing on the radio. “And you’ll want to hear this—”

“No! Listen to me first! I have another newsflash about
your friend Lazar. Kyle took a call from the girls while I was in the shower.
The message: Don’t worry; we caught a ride down the hill with Lazar. He’s
dropping us at The Ruse Room on Foothill.

Damon froze. “Dear God, no! Stay put in case they call
again. I’ll go get them.”

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