Wanted: Undead or Alive (Page 21)

“To hide what she did. When Malcontents feed off humans, they slit the throats to conceal the teeth marks.”

Brynley nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll have Trudy help me bring the horses back to the cabin during the day, and then tomorrow night, we can go to the Carson ranch and ask Nate about the cows.”

He glanced up at her. “Nate?”

“Nathan Carson.” She smiled. “He’s an old friend. And a mortal. A really sweet guy.”

Phineas ground his teeth. Sweet Nate was probably rich. “Did he want you, too? Like Digger?”

“No.” She gave him an exasperated look. “Not every man who sees me wants me.”

“Some men are fools.”

She shook her head. “Nate is plenty smart. His brother’s a problem though. If we’re lucky we won’t run into Kyle.”

“What’s wrong with Kyle?”

She was silent a moment. “He did want me.”

“Shit,” Phineas muttered. She could have her pick of a million men. Why would she ever choose him?

Chapter Eleven

“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf?” Brynley sang to herself as she rolled out her sleeping bag.

He’d run away again.

Over an hour had passed since they’d arrived at the trailhead campsite where Trudy would meet her in the morning. After helping Brynley take care of the horses, Phineas had teleported her to her brother’s cabin so she could shower and change. He’d returned to the camp to babysit the horses, and then, thirty minutes later, he’d teleported to the cabin to bring her back here.

He didn’t stay. He claimed he needed to shower, too, and he needed to drop by Romatech for some bottled blood and to see how his brother was faring. He also wanted to see if Angus was sending anyone back to the States to help them with their search. She suspected he didn’t want to continue the mission alone with her.

I ain’t never seen two people so in love. Digger’s words had haunted Brynley ever since they’d left his campsite.

The old man was crazy as a loon, so maybe she shouldn’t read too much into it. Still, she wondered how strong Phineas’s feelings were for her. He’d been quick to pretend they were married when Digger had shown interest in her. He’d held on to her and kissed her brow. Last night he’d admitted he was physically attracted to her. And tonight he’d said that he liked her.

But love? Could he ever love her? She didn’t know.

And she sure didn’t know how she felt about him. Yeah, she wanted to jump his bones, but that wasn’t love. That wasn’t something you based a long-term commitment on. And yet, when Phineas had claimed they were married, her heart had nearly leaped out her throat. Shock. Then a tingly spark of excitement. And then . . . an odd sense of contentment.

Dammit, she wanted to be loved. She wanted to be cherished and treasured. For herself. Not for being a werewolf, or for being her father’s daughter.

Her dad had been trying to marry her off for years, but she’d never felt a need to rush into anything. As a werewolf, she could live another five hundred years. Why saddle herself with a husband now?

But if a husband truly loved her, wouldn’t it be wonderful? Why couldn’t she be as happy as Vanda? Or Toni or Caitlyn? Any day now, Caitlyn would be giving birth to twins. Why couldn’t she do that? Why couldn’t she make her own family that was based on love instead of power and manipulation?

She stretched out on her sleeping bag in the bare cabin. She was wearing a clean pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt to sleep in, and she had a flashlight and her shotgun on the floor beside her. It was a quiet and peaceful place, and she was exhausted, but still she couldn’t sleep.

I ain’t never seen two people so in love. Could Phineas fall in love with her? Did she want him to? What did she really know about him?

You’re just scared, she told herself. You’ve been burned and abused too many times before. Phineas was sweet, smart, and respectful. He made her laugh. He made her horny. He made her want to jump—

She jumped when a man’s form materialized in the dark cabin. “Phineas?”

“You’re still awake?” He wandered over to her with a plastic bag in one hand and a Styrofoam cup in the other.

A delicious smell wafted toward her. “You brought food?”

“Yes.” He handed her the cup topped with a plastic lid and straw. “A chocolate shake.”

“Oh, I love chocolate!” She took a long sip, then moaned. “That’s good. I was really getting tired of water and beef jerky.”

He pulled a Styrofoam box out of the bag. “This is a hamburger and French fries from the Romatech cafeteria.”

“You’re so sweet.” She grabbed the box and wondered why he suddenly looked pissed. “Is something wrong? Is your brother all right?”

“He’s good.” Phineas dug a ketchup packet out of the bag and handed it to her. “Angus is sending some guys to help us out. Since Jason said the lady who attacked him insisted on being called his queen, it’s one of the best leads we’ve had. So as soon as it gets dark over there, Zoltan, Jack, and Lara will start teleporting our way.”

“Who’s Zoltan?” Brynley asked as she squeezed ketchup over the French fries.

“He’s Coven Master for Eastern Europe. He doesn’t work for Angus, but he’s always helpful when it comes to fighting Malcontents.”

Brynley nodded and took a bite out of her hamburger.

“Is there anything else I can bring you?” Phineas asked. “Some pillows or blankets?”

She gave him a wry look. “In a hurry to run off again?”

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable. Since you’re stuck here with the horses.”

“I’m good. More than good.” She stuffed a French fry into her mouth. “Nothing like home delivery.”

“Well. If you don’t need anything else . . .”

He was going to run off again, dammit. “Why don’t you stay for a while? I’m tired of being alone.” Boy, was that an understatement. She’d felt alone for twelve years, ever since her mom died and Phil ran off. “We could talk. Until I fall asleep.”

He gave a wary look. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything. Why don’t you tell me your life story?” She smirked. “That would probably put me to sleep.”

“Very funny.”

“Come on. Talk. I want to know more about you.” Her wolfish instincts told her she could trust him, but the human part of her wanted to make sure.

He eased slowly into a sitting position beside her. Even though he kept his face blank, it was obvious he was sore.

“You’ll feel better after your death-sleep, right?”

“I’m okay.” He scooted back to lean against the wall.

“So?” She turned toward him, sitting cross-legged. “Tell me about yourself.”

“There’s not much to tell.”

“I doubt that. You don’t get a warrant for your arrest doing nothing.”

He winced. “I’ve done a few things I’m not proud of.”

“Haven’t we all?” She ate a few fries, and when he remained quiet, she prompted him. “You were born in the Bronx?”

“Yes. I grew up in my grandmother’s house with her, my great-aunt, and my mom.”

“No dad?”

“He went to jail when I was a baby. Armed robbery.”

“Oh wow. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I had a great childhood.” He smiled with a faraway look in his eyes. “I had my gran, my aunt Ruth, and my mom, all taking care of me, making sure I always felt loved and cared for.”

“That sounds wonderful.” She ate another fry. “Three women spoiling you rotten. No wonder you became a ladies’ man.”

“I did learn how to sweet-talk them.” His smile faded. “It didn’t last. Gran passed away when I was eight, and soon after that, my dad got out of prison.”

“Oh.” She had a bad feeling his dad was as domineering as her own father.

“He moved in with us, and about a year later, my mom had a baby. My little brother. She wanted to name him Lamont, but my dad wanted to name him Freedom to commemorate his getting out of jail. They ended up naming him Freemont.”

“And he’s working at Romatech now?” Brynley took another bite of hamburger.

“Yeah. He’s nineteen years old now. Going to college. He’s real smart.”

She smiled at the obvious pride in Phineas’s voice when he talked about his brother.

“Two years after Freemont, my little sister, Felicia, was born. I was about eleven then, and I started to notice things. Like my mom would walk with a limp sometimes, or her arms would be bruised.”

Brynley winced. “Your dad was abusing her?”

Phineas nodded. “I could hear him yelling at her late at night, but I kept telling myself that was all he was doing. I couldn’t admit what was really happening.”

“You were just a kid,” Brynley murmured. “Denial can be the safest way to go.” She knew that all too well.

“One morning when I was twelve, my mom had a black eye, and my aunt Ruth started fussing at my dad, and he threatened to shut her up for good. That’s when it finally hit me. Something snapped in me that day, and I told him if he ever hurt my mother or Aunt Ruth again, I’d kill him.”

“Oh my gosh, Phineas.” She set the box of food down and moved closer to him. “What happened?”

“He beat the crap out of me.”

She gasped and touched his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It changed my life. I’d been a little kid before that with no purpose or direction. I was a lousy student and a lazy athlete, but that day, I woke up. I realized I needed to man up. I started working hard in school, so I could get a good job to support the family. And I started going to a gym every afternoon to learn how to box.”

Man up? Brynley’s heart ached for the twelve-year-old boy who’d tried to become a man overnight so he could provide for his family and protect them.

“By the time I was fourteen, I was a pretty good boxer. I won a few local bouts. And I was as tall as my dad, so he started being more careful.”

“That’s good.”

He shook his head. “It didn’t last. He came home drunk one night and started in on my mom. That time, I beat the crap out of him.”

“Wow,” Brynley breathed. He’d stood up to his dad. Something she’d never had the nerve to do with her own dad.

“Then I told him to leave and never come back.”

“Did he?”

“Yeah.” Phineas shrugged. “Turned out he had another woman on the side, so he just moved in with her.”

“What a pig.”

“He got what he deserved. His girlfriend had cheated on him and passed the AIDS virus to him.” Phineas sighed. “He’d passed it on to my mom.”

“Oh no.”

Phineas was silent for a moment with his eyes closed. When he opened his eyes, they glinted with unshed tears. “She died of AIDS when I was nineteen.”