Rene to be wary of her--something he might do anyway. 'Her legs aren't injured from what I can see,' he said coldly. ' I'll go find the doctor. You help her to the study. She knows where it is.'
'Bastard,' he heard Neva mutter as he walked away. He smiled grimly. He was all that and more--and would continue to be that way for as long as this murderer was loose.
He strode past the rows of wind-tossed aspen and pine. As he got closer to the ballroom, the music began to seep through his blood again, and need rose. He ignored it, but he wondered if that was going to be at all possible in the coming nights.
He might have practiced restraint over the last ten years, but coming back to the mansion seemed to have loosened the control he had over his old habits. Part of him ached to celebrate the rising of the moon as he had in the past--to drink himself senseless and lose himself in the pleasure of a female's body, over and over and over. Only right now, it wasn't any female he hungered for but one with dark golden hair and leaf green eyes. I t was a need that was more than a little worrying. If she wasn't in jail by the time this was all over, then she'd certainly hate him more than she already did. It would be the mother of all ironies if, for the first time in his life, he'd actually found a woman he wanted to spend more than one moon dance with, and she couldn't even stand the sight of him.
Though undoubtedly fate would probably think it a fitting retribution for his youthful unthinking and uncaring behavior.
He walked into the ballroom, and the heat and the smell of sex hit him like a punch to the gut. He took a deep breath, half thinking of grabbing the nearest free female to mate with, if only to ease the sharpness of the moon-spun pain. He resisted the temptation and swept his gaze across the rutting, sweating crowd.
His father and Tye were nowhere to be seen, but Rene and Kane were both still here. After a second, he saw the doctor heading out another side exit.
He pushed through the crowd. The associated scents and sounds of lovemaking flushed heat across his skin, and though he'd made love to Neva less than ten minutes ago, he wanted her with a fierceness that made it difficult to concentrate.
His father's warning ran through his mind. He would indeed have to watch the bait, or he really could end up getting hooked.
He caught the doctor heading for the stairs leading to the wing housing staff and guestrooms.
'Hey, Duncan,' Martin said with a smile. 'Long time no see.'
'Certainly has been.' In his heyday, Martin had been responsible for the delivery of most of the Sinclair cubs, but failing health and the odd, often long, hours of obstetrics had forced him to retire just before
Duncan had left ten years ago. These days, he did little more than ensure all male wolves attending the dance received the injection that kept their fertility under control. Wolves might only be fertile during the week running up to the full moon, but given the number of partners many had, Ripple Creek would quickly be overrun with cubs if he didn't.
And while the presence of werewolves might be tolerated in the human world, human tolerance only went so far. Ripple Creek had survived where many other reservations had failed, simply because they kept their numbers under tight control and didn't push the boundaries.
'I need you to do me a favor, Doc,' he said. The old wolf raised a bushy white eyebrow. 'What?'
'A female's been attacked in the pavilion. She claims she didn't know her attacker, but I think she's lying. I'd like you to clean her wounds and, in the process, see if you can grab a sample of saliva from them.' He hesitated, then added on impulse, 'and perhaps sneak a sample of whatever lies under her nails.'
'A tall order.' Martin hesitated, dark eyes worried. 'Is this attack linked to the recent murders?'
'In some ways, it's similar, but we can't be sure.'
'And you're not calling the rangers?'
'I can't see the point, but if she wants to, we will.' Though he very much doubted she would.
Martin nodded. 'What do you want me to do with these samples?'
He hesitated. His boss, Dave, had offered the use of his contacts, and it was possible those contacts included someone in the labs. 'Keep them secure until I can arrange for them to be tested.'
'I'll just go get my medical kit. Where is she now?'
'I've put her in the study.'
'Is she bad? If so, it might be better if she heads into the hospital--'
'Just scratches and a few bite marks on her arm.' The old wolf nodded. 'I'll meet you there.' Duncan spun on his heel and headed for the study. Once the doc arrived, he'd have to keep Neva out of the way just so she didn't see Martin taking samples. If Betise had been attacked by the killer, then the last thing he wanted was Neva running back reporting to whoever had set her on him.
Both women jumped when he thrust open the study door. Neva stood, her expression hostile. But her gaze slithered down his body, and awareness flashed between them.
An awareness her clenched fists suggested she was fighting. 'Where's the doctor?'
'On his way.' He glanced at Betise. The older wolf was lying on the sofa, eyes closed and breathing even, but he could feel the tension in her. Feel the anger. 'We've danced, haven't we?'
The smile that tugged her thin lips was bitter. 'Yes,' she said, not opening her eyes. 'We have.'
'I don't remember.'
Neva gasped softly. Do you really enjoy being such a callous bastard?
Neva's thoughts were acrid and filled with anger. Obviously, Neva knew a whole lot more than he remembered. He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. It's nothing more than the truth.
He'd had so many women since his first moon dance, how could he possibly be expected to remember his time with every one? That he recalled this wolf's scent was a miracle in itself.
You were with her for a year. Surely that in itself would be a momentous enough event for a womanizer like yourself to recall.
He'd never been with any wolf longer than the period of one moon dance. Had never wanted to be, especially in his youth. If she told you that, she lied. A sound not unlike a disbelieving snort ran through his mind. Or you're lying, for whatever sordid reason you might have.
I may be many things, but a liar isn't one of them. He hesitated, then added harshly. 'Shame you can't say the same thing, isn't it?'
She blushed, but she held his gaze almost defiantly. 'I haven't lied to you.'
She was lying now. 'Then tell me why you came to the mansion.'
'To try the moon dance.'
'And?'
'I'm regretting every damn minute of it.'
That, at least, was a truth, and one he did regret. 'It's a shame you've got four more nights to go, little wolf. Rest assured I aim to enjoy every one of them.'
'Bastard', she said again.
He smiled grimly and switched his gaze back to Betise. 'When, exactly, did we meet?' Not that he really cared. He was just puzzled as to why she'd bother lying. 'You were twenty-two.'
Which was a year before he'd left to go to Denver and had ended up in jail while the police sorted out the mess of his accident. While it hadn't been one of his more sober years, he was sure he'd remember having a semipermanent mate. He'd never been like his brothers in that respect--he'd never made half promises to the women he mated. Even back in his hellion days, he'd been honest enough to admit he was after nothing more than a good time, and those he was with always knew that. So why this woman believed he'd believe they'd been together more than one moon dance was beyond him. Unless she thought he'd been so drunk he wouldn't even remember. Even so, what would it gain her?
'And we were together how long?'
She hesitated. 'Nearly the whole year.'
No way. He couldn't stand this woman's scent. Maybe drunk he wouldn't have cared so much, but even so, they couldn't have been together an entire year without him at least remembering some part of it.
He'd never been that drunk. And he could recall most of the year --just not her part of it, which to him implied she'd never played a major part.
'Sorry, but I have no memory of you or our time together.'
