Nightwind (16 page)

Lauren, her face red, turned around to stare at her mother. There was a look unlike any Lauren had ever

seen on her mother’s slack face. Maxine Fowler’s pupils were dilated, fixed on something Lauren

couldn’t see. Her right hand slid off the tabletop and fell to her lap where it began to twist in her lap, her

fingers gripping and pulling at the material of her dress, inching the fabric up her thighs. There was such

naked hunger in her mother’s face. It sent a shiver down Lauren’s spine.

Her mother’s voice went low and throaty. “He’ll pick you up and carry you to his bed and his arms will

be so strong you will think he could break you in half if he wanted to.” Her lips stretched into a smile of

pleasure. “His body will be fine. So fine it will make you ache with wanting him. His chest will be hard

and thick with a pelt of hair as black as soot. And when he enters you, when he takes you, he will give

you the kind of pleasure no mortal man ever could.” Maxine’s face contorted. “Ahhhhhh!”

The heat withdrew in a rush of coiled spite.

“No!” the older woman gasped. “Please!” She shivered, moaned in abject disappointment as she

squeezed her thighs together, her hand clutching desperately at the material covering her legs. Her vision

rolled into focus, and she became aware of her daughter staring at her. She tore her gaze from Lauren

and tried to still the thumping of her heart inside her chest, tried to quell the intense sexual heat flooding

her lower body. A thin trickle of drool was oozing down the corner of her mouth and she snatched up a

napkin from the holder on the table and blotted her face.

“Mama?” Lauren questioned, taking a step toward her mother.

“The devil’s spawn, he’ll be,” her mother whispered as she wiped her mouth on the napkin. “And he’ll

take your virgin body with a cruelty and lust you can not imagine!” She stood up, pushing away from the

table with a grunt. “And what will you have after you lose your maidenhead to a man like that, missy?”

Lauren gaped at her mother, jerking as Maxine Fowler’s next words were flung at her like pelting

stones.

“A whore! That’s what you’ll be! A whore just like Angeline Hellstrom! You will be
his
whore for as

long as he wants you!”

Lauren’s mouth dropped open as her mother stormed out of the kitchen. She followed her, amazed. At

the door, her mother turned and pointed a finger at her. “You’ll be just like her, missy. Just like her!” She

rushed through the screen door and hurried to her car as though the hounds of hell were on her heels.

The door slammed on the car and the motor ground as her mother twisted the key too hard in the

ignition. As her daughter watched, Maxine Fowler peeled away from the curb, tires squealing in protest,

and sped away.

He watched the look of confusion and alarm leave Lauren’s face as he stood across the street

and observed her. He ached to reach out, to touch her in a similar way to the way he had touched

her mother, but he knew he wouldn’t. Knew he couldn’t. As much as he wanted her, he wanted

her to come to him as any human woman would come to her mate. He wanted her to want him as

much as he wanted her.

His dark, fathomless gaze moved away from Lauren as tires squealed around the corner at the

far end of the street. A humorless smile touched his full lips and his attention moved gently back

to the woman who stood on her porch, shaking her head.

“Lauren,” he whispered.

He saw her head come up and he stepped back into the shadows, away from her searching look.

She had answered his call, not even knowing from whence it had come, not really hearing the soft

sigh of her name on his lips, but feeling it deep in her soul.

“My Lauren.” The whisper was like the soughing of the wind and he smiled as she shivered,

wrapping her arms about her as she stepped away from the door her home. His eyes turned hot as

a blazing inferno.

“Mine,” he claimed her and then blended into the lush foliage behind him
.

Angeline Hellstromsmiled. “Sales at the store are doing quite well since you took over as manager.” She

took a sip of her coffee, viewing Lauren over the rim. As she returned the cup to the table, she smiled

again. “I believe I made a very good choice in picking you.”

Lauren looked down at her plate. “Thank you.” She couldn’t seem to look the woman in the face today

not after yesterday afternoon’s talk with Syntian Cree.

Angeline’s smile slipped slowly away. “Is something wrong, Lauren?” she asked, reaching out to touch

the young woman’s arm.

The cool touch of Angeline Hellstrom’s fingers on her flesh drove the fleeting thought of Syntian deeper

into Lauren’s mind and she glanced up at Angeline, shaking her head. “I guess I’m just tired,” she

answered. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

The older woman sat back in her chair and regarded Lauren for a long, silent moment until Lauren

blushed under the intense scrutiny. Lowering her head once more, she let the long wave of her unbound

hair obscure her face from Angeline’s gaze.

“He’s not worth it, Lauren,” Angeline said. When the young woman’s head came up and her wounded

eyes speared straight into Angeline’s, the other woman shrugged. “Your sleeplessness, dear. Syn is very

good at what he does, but he’s not worth losing sleep over.”

Lauren’s blush deepened and she tried to turn away from the gentle look coming from Angeline

Hellstrom’s probing stare but the older woman reached out to take her chin and force her to look at her.

“I know Syn can be a very stimulating man, Lauren. He’s a remarkable man, a pleasure to be with, but

he can be very cruel and unfeeling sometimes, not even meaning to be.” She smiled, sighing ruefully.

“Women to him are an avocation. He needs variety and I can accept that. Can you?”

The stain turned scarlet red on Lauren’s cheeks. “There’s nothing between us, Mrs. Hellstrom.”

“Though not for lack of trying on his part, I would imagine,” Angeline said.

There was great hurt and sadness in Lauren as she forced herself to return Angeline’s look. “I’ve never

had a man be nice to me like he’s been,” she confessed, the admission making her face screw up with

embarrassment. “I didn’t know how to react to it.”

“Something upon which Syntian unconsciously acted,” Angeline said. At Lauren’s look of puzzlement at

the remark, the older woman leaned forward. “You are a challenge to him, dear. He’s used to women

falling all over themselves to gain his attention. You, on the other hand, have had very little experience

with the opposite sex.”

“No experience at all,” Lauren admitted.

Angeline’s lovely face clouded. “None?”

Lauren mutely shook her head.

The gleam of understanding in Angeline turned to pity for the girl. “Not even dating?”

“No, ma’am.” A single lonely tear eased its way down Lauren’s cheek as she opened her eyes.

Something akin to contrition shot through Angeline’s being and she drew in a long, wavering breath.

“And Syntian’s little flirtations must have seemed a Godsend to you,” she said in a soft, understanding

voice.

Lauren looked up. “I really thought he was interested in me.” She couldn’t go on for her eyes were

blurring with tears.

“He seemed sincere, didn’t he, dear?”

“Yes,” came the whispered, ashamed answer.

Angeline lifted her head and gazed out over the restaurant. No one was looking their way; no one to

observe the softly crying woman sitting beside her. The older woman’s lids were slit with compassion, an

emotion she had not thought herself capable of feeling. The empathy she was experiencing with the young

woman made her acutely uneasy and she regretted her use of Lauren Fowler in her effort to punish

Syntian. “Have the two of you been friends long?” she heard Lauren ask.

Angeline looked at the girl. “Do you mean have we been lovers for very long?” At Lauren’s wince,

Angeline almost felt ashamed. “I’ve known him for thirty years. We’ve been lovers off and on for most of

that time.”

A frown of confusion wrinkled Lauren’s smooth forehead. “Thirty years?” She gazed into Angeline’s

unlined face. Although the woman had an expert hand in applying her makeup, the fine lines and wrinkles

around her eyes and mouth gave away telltale signs of her age. Lauren thought her to be in her mid-fifties,

but Syntian? He couldn’t have even reached his mid-thirties yet.

“He’s older than you think,” Angeline said gently. “We both are. You’re what? Forty-four?” At

Lauren’s nod, she smiled. “I meant to send you a birthday card, but things were just so hectic that

week.”

“You did?” Lauren asked, amazed, not knowing the subject of age had been deftly cast aside.

“Of course, I did,” Angeline smiled. She reached out to pat Lauren’s hand. “Why wouldn’t I? I like you,

dear. You remind me so much of myself when I was younger.” Her smile turned thoughtful. “I was

horribly shy and unsure of myself.”

“You?” Lauren gasped.

Angeline laughed. “Why not? I was such a shrinking violet I walked down the school halls with my eyes

on the floor, my shoulder pressing against the walls, and my books clutched so tightly to my chest my

mother never had to press the bodices of my dresses!” At her tinkling laugh, she saw Lauren’s lips

twitch. “Can’t you just picture it?” she asked. “Here’s this scrawny little reed of a thing huddling along the

hallways, books clasped to her flat little chest; pimples spread out like wildfire over her plain face; hair so

lackluster and limp it defied curlers; a body that was ungraceful and gangling and nondescript. Not once

was I ever asked out in high school. You know how it feels not to be asked to your proms?” At Lauren’s

solemn nod of understanding, Angeline sighed. “I was so desperate to go, I finally screwed up my

courage and asked one of the nerdy boys who I knew wouldn’t have the guts to ask anyone to go with

them. I was crushed when even he turned me down.”

“But you’re so lovely,” Lauren protested. “I can’t imagine you looking any other way.”

“It wasn’t until I went to college that I began to bloom,” Angeline explained. “I took some courses in

ancient religions and one day Syntian walked in.” Her vision clouded for a fraction of a second before

she blinked and refocused. She seemed to mentally shake herself.

“He went to the same college?” Lauren wondered at the look that had come over her employer’s face.

Angeline shook her head. “He came to class one day, interested at the course on demonology that was

being taught. He sat down next to me and when he smiled...” She sighed. “You are aware of what that

smile of his can do to a woman!”

Lauren ducked her head. “I’m afraid so.”

The older woman finished her coffee before she spoke again. “You know, Lauren, he’s not a gigolo.”

As the young woman’s head snapped up, Angeline shrugged. “He called me to demand what it was I

possibly could have said to you that made you think such a thing of him. He was mortally offended, I’m

afraid.” She chuckled softly. “The man has a massive ego and to have a woman think him a boy toy

absolutely devastated him.”

Lauren’ flinched. “I shouldn’t have accused him. I didn’t mean to offend him.”

“He’s not angry at you,” Angeline hastened to say. “He’s furious at me!” She laughed. “He was telling

you the truth, Lauren. It is a business deal between the two of us.”

“I don’t understand,” Lauren admitted.

“I know you don’t, dear, but what is between Syn and me has nothing whatsoever to do with the way he

feels about you.” She put her hand over Lauren’s and squeezed. “There will always be a connection

between him and me because we have a long, long history together.” She withdrew her hand. “He really

would like to take you out, Lauren. If you wish to accept his offer of a date, I think I can manage to

sever our sexual relationship.” She looked away a moment. “There are many more where he came from.”

Her mother’s words cut through Lauren like a hot knife through melting butter. She shook her head.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can accept a date with him under the circumstance. My mother—”

“Did you know your mother and I went to high school together?” At Lauren’s look of surprise, Angeline

nodded. “Graduated the same year from college, too.”

“But that would make you as old as my mother!”

“I told you I was older than you thought I was,” Angeline laughed. She blotted her lips with the linen

napkin then tucked it beside her plate. “I’m sixty-eight.” One lush, dark, perfectly tweezed brow lifted at

Lauren’s look of stunned surprise. “Don’t look so shocked, dear. I think I’ve held together rather nicely,

myself.”

“Of course you have!” Lauren gasped. “I just would never have imagined.”

Angeline smiled. “I take better care of myself as I get older. It’s hard holding back the hands of time, but

it can be done very effectively if you just know the secret.”

“You’ve found the Fountain of Youth,” Lauren teased.

The older woman’s face glowed. “You might say I have.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice.

“His name is Syntian Cree.” When the blush returned to Lauren’s face, Angeline shook her head.

“We’ve got to work on that blush, dear. It keeps giving you away!”

“You said you went to school with Mama,” Lauren said, wanting to change the subject.