The Keeping (31 page)

*****

Ryne, unabashedly
naked, headed across the open space that served as the front lawn
for Melody’s cabin. His clothes were still damp and the idea of
putting on wet denim was repugnant. Glancing around, he walked over
to a bush and shoved the clothes underneath, pulling some leaves up
to cover them. Satisfied no one would notice the clothing until he
returned to collect it another day, he headed into the woods, and
once concealed behind the trees, closed his eyes and brought his
wolf forward.

Even with his eyes
shut, he could sense the air shimmering around him, knew that if he
opened his eyes, the images he saw would be momentarily distorted
as if looking through a cascade of glitter in a snow globe. It was
only a momentary phenomenon and then the world righted itself.
Giving himself a shake to adjust his fur, he stretched his front
quarters and then his hind before picking up the camera in his
mouth and heading for home.

Luckily the boys
would still be out at the bar and not see him return home naked.
Oh, the teasing he’d get over that one, if caught. For the most
part it was a source of pride that pure-blooded Lycans could change
and magick back whatever they’d been wearing when they shifted.
Only the teenagers, during their first few changes forgot that
crucial step. Of course, those who were the products of ‘mixed
matings’ weren’t as lucky. Human genes, no matter how many
generations back, interfered with the transfer of magical
abilities, one of the first to be lost being the ability to shift
forms while clothed.

Other tricks, such
as sensing auras and mind-reading between mates varied considerably
depending on the purity of the blood line. A few of the aristocracy
had supposedly even been able to appear and disappear, though Ryne
had yet to encounter anyone who had actually seen the phenomenon
occur.

Ryne knew his
mother was pure-blooded, but hadn’t seen his father since he was
two and had little knowledge of that side of his heritage, though
the man must have been of relatively good stock, given Ryne’s own
abilities. The pack was somewhere in the southern states, but his
mother had never spoken of what happened there between herself and
his sire. Ryne had never inquired. He and his mother didn’t have a
close relationship; his bastard of a step-father had seen to that,
dragging them all over the country from pack to pack, neglecting
them, and flying into fits of rage...

Memories from the
past brought a snarl to his lips. Thankfully his mother, in a
moment of clarity, had finally left Kane and himself with her home
pack before heading off with her unstable mate. Ryne never knew
what she saw in the man, but she’d given up her children rather
than leave him. The only good thing Ryne could say about his
step-father was that he’d sired Kane, his half-brother.

Kane... Damn, Ryne
hoped there wasn’t a picture of his brother on the camera. How
could he have been so careless as to not erase the memory chip
before lending it? Of course, he’d never thought Melody would
download all the pictures on to her computer, but he should have
anticipated the event. At least, Melody said she hadn’t really
looked at the pictures and he’d sensed no deception in her aura.
The damage had been contained, but who knew what slip-up could
happen next? He really needed to send the woman packing before she
stumbled on to something she shouldn’t.

Chapter
22

Greyson stared at
the wolf picture making a show of being lost in thought. He knew
Aldrich was waiting for an answer, but he wasn’t inclined to hurry.
The damned man could wait. It didn’t matter that time was money.
Money was the least of his worries, he had too much of the filthy
stuff as it was. Aldrich would get paid for his time and if he had
other clients waiting back at his stuffy downtown office, that was
too bad. He shouldn’t have scheduled them in for the same day. The
lawyer knew, when he had been hired, that all other clients would
have to take a back seat. Greyson Inc. didn’t pay out the
exorbitant fees that Aldrich demanded just to be told they didn’t
fit into the lawyer’s schedule.

He listened to the
faint sound of creaking leather. Good. Aldrich was shifting in his
seat. The man was getting impatient, but didn’t dare say so.
Suppressing a chuckle, Greyson kept his back turned. Aldrich was
becoming too full of himself. It was time to put the lawyer back in
his place and show him who was really in charge. Another minute or
two and maybe he’d put the man out of his misery.

In the meantime,
Greyson amused himself studying his picture. The animal held its
head regally, challenging the onlooker. Its amber eyes conveyed an
intelligence that no normal wolf could possibly possess. Ah...but
then it was no normal wolf. He knew that and now, he suspected Mr.
Taylor did as well. This no longer appeared to be a case of an
unwitting photographer snapping an idle picture that turned out to
be one in a million. Taylor’s evasive answers, his reticence to be
interviewed, all pointed to one thing. He knew.

Suddenly
swivelling his chair around, he caught the lawyer off guard,
surprising a sour look on the man’s face. A perverse thrill filled
him.

“Ha! I caught you,
Leon. Sneering at me behind my back!”

He had to give
Aldrich credit; the man’s features were now as bland as oatmeal.
“Of course not, sir. A slight case of allergies. I was merely
attempting to discreetly sniffle.”

“Good try,
Aldrich, but I know you think I’m an arrogant bastard and you’re
right, I am. So sneer if you want and I’ll keep you waiting as long
as I want.”

Aldrich had the
good sense to not argue back, merely inclining his head.

Greyson chuckled,
pleased that he had yet again proven he had the upper hand. “So,
Taylor’s giving cock-and-bull stories to avoid answering questions,
is he?”

“Those are the
words Ms. Greene employed.” Aldrich seemed to shudder slightly at
the inelegant phrasing.

“And Ms.
Greene?”

“She still seems
to be ‘trying’ in her own inimitable way, to conduct an interview
with the man. Her success rate, however, is deplorable. A more
seasoned reporter—”

Greyson cut the
other man off. “A more seasoned reporter would be asking too many
questions both of us and Taylor. No. Ms. Greene’s perfect for the
job, in more ways than one.”

“If you’d inform
me of her ‘unique qualifications,’ as I believe you called them,
then I might feel more comfortable with her completing the
job.”

Narrowing his
eyes, Greyson slowly rose to his feet; the sound of his chair
scraping against the floor was ominous. He leaned over the desk
towards Aldrich, the solid oak creaking slightly as he rested his
weight on his fingertips. It was a look and a stance that had
turned many captains of industry into quivering idiots. Greyson
knew the effect and used it indiscriminately. Intimidation was one
of his favourite tools. “Your ‘comfort’ is of no concern to me,
Leon. I will tell you what I wish to tell you, nothing more.”

To give the man
his due, Aldrich didn’t flinch. His fingers tightened slightly on
the arms of the chair and he blinked twice in rapid succession, but
that was all.

Damn, but the man
was good, Greyson acknowledged begrudgingly. Of course, if he
hadn’t been good, the lawyer would never have made it this close to
his inner circle.

Curving his lips
into the barest semblance of a smile, Aldrich answered, his voice
as calm and steady as ever. “But of course, sir. Foolish of me to
forget that fact.”

Greyson slowly
sank back into his chair and turned to face the picture again.
“Foolish indeed, Leon. Foolish indeed.”

*****

Wednesday dawned
with Mel’s feelings in a distinct muddle. She lay in bed, tired and
sexually frustrated after a night of dreaming about a certain nude
photographer prancing about her yard taking pictures of pink
flamingos that were being chased by gnomes riding on black wolves.
In between each photo shoot, he’d pull her close and kiss her
senseless, only to walk away because she wasn’t a she-wolf.

When she wasn’t
having weird dreams, Mel had been awake wondering what to do about
the pictures on her computer. Having waffled back and forth last
night, in the end she hadn’t looked at them, but still wasn’t sure
that she eventually wouldn’t give into temptation. She supposed it
all depended on how reticent Ryne proved to be during their
interview. Mel knew she had to have something to report and the
photos might be her only source of information, if Ryne continued
to avoid talking to her.

Maybe she should
be more forceful and demand he sit down and answer a few simple
questions. Yet, even as she considered the idea, her gut told her
Ryne didn’t respond to demands. He’d do whatever he wanted and if
she pushed too much, he’d push back even harder. He’d only agreed
to a very restricted interview because...well...she wasn’t exactly
sure why. Possibly he’d been feeling benevolent towards her at the
time? If that was the case, the status of today’s interview would
be up in the air.

Ryne had been in a
bit of a snit when he left last night. Would it carry over to
today? Would he renege on their dinner altogether or just the
subsequent question and answer session? Mel wasn’t sure and had no
way of contacting him to find out. She supposed she’d just show up
at The Broken Antler and see what happened.

Crawling out of
bed, she turned on the coffee maker, and took a shower, washing
herself with more vigour than necessary as her thoughts went back
to Ryne. Damn, but the man confused her. One minute he was
sarcastic, and the next he was all sex appeal and kisses, then sort
of broody... It made her angry and frustrated since she never knew
what to expect. She was also angry at herself for responding to him
as she did. It wasn’t like she was some sex starved
nymphomaniac...well, okay. She
had
been a bit sex-starved,
but really, where was her self control? And besides that, she had a
job to do which she wasn’t doing very well, as Aldrich had so
kindly pointed out. But it was only because Ryne was being so
difficult. Grabbing a towel, she exited the shower and dried
off.

Running her hands
through her hair, Mel wished she was the calm logical sort. Surely
then she’d be able to figure this out. Inhaling deeply, she tried
to push Ryne, Aldrich and the interview from her mind. There was
nothing she could do about it right now so she should spend her
time more profitably.

Focusing on her
reflection in the mirror, she studied herself. There were shadows
under her eyes and she used a bit of concealer to hide the effects
of her sleepless night before dabbing on a touch of blush. Well, at
least she wasn’t so pale now. Her hair, still damp from the shower,
was a tangled mess. Grabbing a comb and hair drier, she tried to
tame it into some semblance of order, with little success.

As she’d told
Ryne, it really was too long. Finally, she gave up trying to create
a style and twisted it into a messy bun on top of her head, secured
in place with a clip. A few stray strands fell about her face in
soft curls so she tucked them behind her ears, knowing they would
probably work free before she even left the cabin, but not really
caring that much. Who was she trying to impress anyway?

Dressing in jeans
and her favourite red top, Mel grabbed her laptop and purse, filled
her travel mug with coffee, and headed out the door.

*****

The bell tinkled
softly, as she pushed open the door of the Stump River Gazette.
Beth looked up and smiled with considerably more enthusiasm than
she usually did; she got to her feet, and hurried across the
room.

“Mel, I’m so glad
you’re here! Can you do me a favour? Josh broke a tooth last night
and had to go into Timmins to get it taken care of and it’s
Wednesday. The weekly paper has to be delivered and I was hoping
you could man the office while I do the rounds?” She paused for
breath and looked at Mel with hopeful expectation.

Only momentarily
taken aback by the rush of information, Mel agreed. “Sure, I’d be
happy to help out. You’ve been letting me hook up to your internet
every day for free; this is the least I can do.”

“Oh thank you! I
was thinking I’d have to lock up the office. It’s not like we get a
ton of business, but I still hate not to be open, just in case.”
Beth beamed and looked like the weight of the world had been lifted
from her shoulders.

“Just tell me what
I have to do.” Mel placed her things on a table at the back that
the Kennedy’s had set up as her temporary ‘office.’ Rubbing her
hands together, she walked back to the front counter, pleased to be
able to pay them back in some small way for the hospitality they’d
shown her.

“Well, it’s pretty
simple. A few people might come in to buy a copy of the paper—it’s
a dollar—and possibly a few advertisers might stop in. If they feel
there was a problem with the layout of their ads, or if they want
to buy more space, just get their name, make a note of what the
issue is and say I’ll get back to them. Umm...” She looked around
for a minute obviously thinking if there were any other jobs.
“Answer the phone and take any messages and, of course, if a
‘really big’ story happens, grab a camera from my desk drawer and
go take a picture of it.” Beth laughed. “Not that we ever have any
real news, but you never know!”

With that she
gathered up a bundle of papers and left.

Shoving her hands
in her pocket, Mel looked about the office. So...she was in charge.
For a moment she surveyed her domain, rocking back and forth on her
heels and wondering what to do. Since there really was nothing to
keep her busy, she headed to her own table to set up her laptop.
From what she’d observed over the past week, life was pretty calm
at the paper. She could easily do a bit of work while
simultaneously watching the front counter.