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Long Shadows: The Lycanthropy Files, Book 2 Page 23
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“No, you’re most assuredly not, and trust me, as much as I don’t agree with Carrigan’s plans, I still have to help him carry them out. Don’t you want to learn to channel your powers?”
“That’s not what he’s going to teach me, though, is it?” I crossed my arms. “The only kind of teaching that occurs in a dungeon is not the kind I’m interested in.” I turned and walked down the hallway toward the beach.
“Miss Marconi, where are you going?”
“For a jog on the beach. I’m dressed for it, after all.”
“Once you leave the house, I can’t guarantee your safety.”
That made me pause. I remembered Henry’s spying on my morning yoga session. I sent Max a coy look over my shoulder. “Why don’t you join me, then?”
He started after me. “This is not what Carrigan had in mind.”
“Think for yourself, Max.”
“That’s Doctor Fortuna. You barely know me.”
“What if I want to?” I turned abruptly so he ran into me, and there was no doubt our bodies had known each other, at least from what I could tell.
He stepped back. “I wish I knew why I react to you like this. You asked me a question in the dungeon, if something had happened to my memory. What did you mean by it?”
I studied his face to see if he would be receptive to my explanation. He looked honestly curious, and I knew I would have to appeal to his scientific mind.
“Wizards can erase others’ memories, right? At least partially?”
“Yes, but not every wizard. That ability runs in families. The only genetic line we know of right now that can do that is Carrigan’s.”
“And that means Henry too, right?”
He frowned. “How do you know about Henry? He’s in exile.”
“He’s closer than you think.” I shivered. “It can be done to wizards as well. Am I correct in that?”
“Yes, but it requires two wizards to interfere with another wizard’s memory or to undo the damage once it’s done. For normal people, it only requires one wizard. Since Carrigan and Henry are the only two left in his line, it’s impossible it would have been done to me. They haven’t cooperated since—”
“Maximilian, Miss Marconi.” Carrigan walked up behind Max and clapped him on the shoulder. “What’s all this chitchat? We have work to do.” He only came up to Max’s and my shoulders, but he exuded power, and he wasn’t happy.
“I don’t want to go to the dungeon.” I sound like a petulant child.
“Oh, no fear, Miss Marconi. We’ve had part of it converted to a gymnasium and medical facility in case a hurricane crosses our island.”
“That still sounds like torture. I’m not a big fan of exercise inside.”
“Miss Marconi, as I informed you last night, your cooperation will be necessary should you be allowed certain liberties in my home.”
I sighed, knowing I was defeated. I would need help getting off the island, and I wanted Max to be that help, both because of my feelings for him and because he seemed aware of our history on some level. That made him a member of the household I could most easily influence. I needed to break through his memory block. If it would require two wizards to do so, I might be in trouble unless the insight I had come to the night before was correct—that I could absorb and augment another’s power.
But at what price? If I can get free, it’s worth it.
The first thing Carrigan did in the dungeon lab, which was painted white and gray, and still smelled of mildew, was have Max hook up EKG pads to my chest. His hands hesitated over my skin, and electric tingles indicated he was once again puzzled over how familiar my body looked. Or maybe he was just checking out my breasts. Either way, I was encouraged.
“Miss Marconi, your heart rate is already rising. Perhaps I should have Doctor Fortuna stand across the room.”
I hid a smile. “I’m fine, Master Carrigan.”
“In any case, let’s get moving. We’ve already lost valuable time.”
“Research ethics dictate that you tell your participants something about the experiment.”
Max handed me up to a high treadmill. “It’s only a stress test. We’re trying to find out how you may be physically different, being the first mixed wolf/wizard blood we’ve had the opportunity to study. They don’t come visit us voluntarily.”
“Voluntarily? That means you’ve had others here involuntarily.” I raised an eyebrow and wondered what Carrigan had told him about why I was here.
“Your heart rate, Miss Marconi. It may be difficult for a creature such as you, but please don’t confound our results with your emotional reactions.”
“Well, you are studying me.” Don’t panic. This could be the first part of what Peter had told me would happen—that they want to look at me and take me apart to see why we age less slowly. And then make a product to sell to humans.
“We’re going to start the treadmill slowly,” Max said from behind a computer. “Walk and let me know if it’s a comfortable pace.”
I wished I could seek comfort in his turquoise eyes, and questions piled into my mind. What did he think he was doing there? What did he know about where this series of experiments was going? I couldn’t believe his scientific curiosity would override his humanity.
Carrigan snapped his fingers, and I looked at where he stood behind another computer and watched the screen of another monitor. He smiled at me over his monitor, but the friendly expression didn’t reach his eyes, which stared at me like those of a cold fish. “Much better, Miss Marconi. This will do nicely. Now please stay focused.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Carrigan didn’t let me break for lunch until almost two o’clock. Max had noticed me flagging and mentioned something to him a few times, but it was always, “One more test” or “Almost done.”
With every new experiment, Max became more drawn into the results, and my hope waned.
I have to keep faith in him. I know my Max is in there somewhere.
But the voice of reason chimed in. This is what he was like before you knew him. This might be his genuine self.
I have to believe he’s not this cold and analytical, that he has compassion for people. He’s a fricking doctor!
“Miss Marconi, we’re done for now. You may take the afternoon to sit on the beach or go swimming.” Carrigan interrupted my internal argument. “As you can see, I’m not the monster you think I am. There should be suitable attire in your room. Max, come look at this.”
“You’re going to let me wander about by myself?” I asked.
“Absolutely not. Saraya will guide you. Remember, this house has eyes, so don’t try anything funny.”
“You wouldn’t know funny if it bit you in the ass,” I mumbled, and the weakness of my comeback was a testament to my fatigue.
Carrigan just shook his head. “You can do better than that.”
Saraya appeared just then, and I didn’t have the heart to try beyond, “Condescending prick.” I followed her out of the dungeon, up the stairs, and to the dining room.
“Stay here, Miss,” she said. “I will bring you a tray.” She had set the one lonely place opposite a window open to the sea breeze. I breathed in the balmy air to loosen the knot in my chest and flush out the mildew smell from my throat and sinuses.
“Doctor Max does that to women, no?” Saraya asked and put down a plate with a large salad with grilled shrimp on top of it. “Makes them dream of better places.”
“Is he also getting lunch?” I asked.
“They ate while you were in the chamber.”
I shivered, remembering the complete lack of light and sound in the sensory deprivation chamber. I’d lasted ten minutes before demanding to be let out, and Carrigan had laughed at me. “I thought I smelled food when I came out. They must have eaten fast.”
“Men,” she said with a shrug. “They don’t taste their food like women do, probably because they can eat as much as they want and not gain weight.”
�
��Yes, I’ve noticed.” Her words brought an image to mind of Max eating his omelet in my Aunt Alicia’s kitchen, and the air left my lungs with the weight of the loss. We had only just begun to find out what we could be together.
“Is everything all right?” A line appeared between Saraya’s brows. “Master Carrigan will be displeased if you feel he is mistreating you through me.”
“Everything is fine, and don’t worry, you’ve been wonderful to me.” I took a bite of shrimp and greens with tangy dressing. “But I would kill for some carbs.”
“Carbs?” She repeated the word, and it sounded like she was a pirate saying it.
“Yes, like bread. I’m Italian. I need things made from flour.”
“Oh, I know what you mean. One moment.” She left and returned with a corn muffin. “I make them for Doctor Max. He is also liking the carbs.”
“This will do nicely, thanks. Won’t you sit down? I feel weird with you standing there watching me eat.”
She glanced over her shoulder and then sat across from me at the table where she could keep an eye on both doors. She didn’t relax, but rather perched on the edge of her chair so she could leap up at a moment’s notice. “Thank you, Miss.”
“Please call me Lonna.”
Her delicate features lit up. “Oh, I couldn’t. We are not equals, and I do not want to offend you.”
I almost started the, “Where I come from, everyone is equals” speech, but she might have enough exposure to media—surely there was a television or computer with internet around here somewhere—to know that wasn’t true. Instead I asked, “Where are you from?”
“There is a village here on the island. Some of us work here in exchange—” She stopped, her eyes wide.
“In exchange for what?” I asked.
She leaned forward and lowered her voice almost to a whisper. “For the wizards to leave us alone. We also harvest and give them magical plants from the forest.”
“What do you mean, leave you alone?”
“So they won’t take our land. This island belongs to them through some treaty that we had no part in.”
“Ah, colonial logic strikes again.” I sighed, frustrated but not surprised at the wizards’ treatment of the natives. “Is there something out there that might help bring a man’s memory back?”
She frowned. “When I go home tonight, I will ask our village healer. He may know of something.”
“May I speak with him?”
Her mouth dropped open. “No one here wants to speak with us unless we’re cooking or bringing them things.”
“I may need his help. And yours.”
A door opened in the back hallway, and she stood and smoothed her apron. “I get off at ten o’clock tonight,” she said. “I will wait for you.”
“Thank you, but I don’t know if I will be allowed to leave the building. They have wards to prevent that.”
“You will find a way. I can see you like others can’t.”
With that cryptic comment, she whisked my now empty plates away and disappeared, and Max came into the dining room.
“How was lunch?” he asked.
“Lonely,” I said and smiled up at him before I remembered he wouldn’t appreciate the flirting, at least not yet.
“Carrigan fell asleep while some analyses were running. I thought I’d escort you to the beach if Saraya doesn’t mind.” He nodded to the maid, who had come back in for my water glass.
“Not at all, Doctor Max. I’m sure Miss Lonna would like your company more than mine.”
“As delightful as your company may be, Saraya, Lonna and I have some things to discuss.” The mischievous expression on his face made me think Carrigan’s nap may not have been accidental.
I grinned. “I’ll go upstairs and change, then.”
I found sunscreen and a white bikini laid out for me on the bed. Are you freaking kidding me? After changing in the bathroom and putting on the provided black and white striped wrap and sandals, I padded downstairs and found Max in the front hall in swim trunks and a short-sleeved white shirt, which he had left open. I had to close my mouth not to drool at the sight of his chest, and I clenched my free hand into a fist so I wouldn’t run my hand over it and tangle my fingers in his soft fur.
Hair, not fur. I blinked. Where did that come from?
“Everything okay?” he asked with a quizzical smile. The full sunlight highlighted the dark circles under his eyes.
“I’m fine, but are you all right? You look like you hardly slept.”
He sighed and rubbed his temples. “Let’s talk about this outside.”
We walked out the front door into the tropical paradise. A cool breeze came off the ocean and stirred my hair. It took all of three milliseconds for the sand to seep into my sandals, so I slipped them off and carried them. He did the same with his and led me along the water toward a stand of trees around what looked like a sheltered cove.
“So, as you were saying?” I asked. As we drew nearer, a sense of déjà vu overtook me—it was the cove in my dreams!
“Carrigan’s not telling me something about you,” he said. “I want you to be frank with me. You’re not here voluntarily, are you?”
I shook my head. “I was captured in my home in Little Rock, Arkansas and brought here against my will.”
He nodded. We left the water line and followed a sandy path through the trees. The scent of fuchsia and other tropical flowers hung in the air, and the sense I’d been there before intensified.
“Carrigan sent Saraya up as he promised,” Max continued, “and he said she removed the tracking and alert spell from my end, but I still can’t shake the sense that something is horribly wrong, and someone I love is in danger.” He stopped on the path and spun around, and I bumped into him. “And even though it’s not logical, particularly as I think I would remember if you and I had been intimate, I think it’s you.”
This time I did indulge the urge to run my fingers through his chest hair and press my body to his. We both had a little film of perspiration and salt water from walking in the sun, and it magnified the electricity between us. He pulled me to him and put his chin on top of my head.
“This feels so familiar, but why can I not remember?”
“Let’s go to the cove, and maybe you will,” I said, although I didn’t want to lose contact with him.
He put his arm around my waist, and we walked side by side into the isolated cove I remembered from my dreams.
Except they weren’t really dreams. They were a combination of reality and his fantasies. Perhaps I can make his fantasy come true, and he’ll remember me.
“You’ve been here before?” he asked. “How did you know where the trail went?”
“In a sense.” Two lounge chairs sat on a sandy stretch with a wicker box table between them. I took off the table top, found towels, and handed one to him. “Now look.”
I removed my robe-like cover-up slowly and was pleased to see he didn’t take his eyes off me. His pupils dilated, and I smiled at his body betraying his interest in spite of his tight self control. I put the towel down on the lounge chair and reclined.
“Now you go stand with your back to the surf.”
He did as I suggested and frowned. “Yes, this does look strangely familiar.”
I reminded myself not to clench my teeth. “Is anything coming back?”
“It seems you’ve seen me in my astral form.”
“Right, a seagull.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That is correct.”
I held out my hand. “Come sit with me.” I scooted over so he could perch on the recliner, and I smoothed the line of worry from between his brows with my thumb. “Maybe it will come back in bits and pieces. How strong are those memory spells?”
He sighed. “I still don’t know how it could have been done to me. Henry and Carrigan haven’t spoken since the incident on the beach five years ago.”
“The one where the werewolves attacked your engagement party?”
“Yes.” He took my hand and traced circles on my palm. “You know a lot about me.”
“And how much do you know about me?” I asked. His touch was making me want to throw him down in the surf and make love to him until he remembered.
“You’ve been marked by another wizard.” His thumb found the small scar where Peter’s tooth had broken my skin.
“It was what caused me to change the first time.”
“And that’s why you are unique—because you were the only one in your cohort that changed with magic, not science. There’s something odd about your family too.” He looked at my eyes. “You’re the descendant of the witch who cursed that one branch of the Benandanti.”
“Right.”
“These are all things I know about you from having studied your history, but why can I not remember you?”
“Let me help you try.” I sat up and touched my lips to his. Again the electricity sent shivers across my skin and to my most intimate parts. He ran his hands over my mostly naked body, pausing to caress my breasts and the cleft between my legs. I tore his shirt off and did the same. Other clothing—not that there was much of it—followed.
His hands and lips remembered what his mind didn’t, and soon we were engaged in that ancient dance to the rhythm of the waves and the cries of the gulls. We found our release together, and he collapsed on top of me, breathing hard.
I held my breath, waiting for the words I so desperately wanted to hear from him.
“Lonna,” he said.
“Yes?”
He sat back, and I had to admire the sun sparkling off the little flecks of sand that had been carried to him by the caress of the wind and clung to his lean, muscular frame. Lucky sand.
“Greedy. Stop waxing poetic and pay attention,” Wolf-Lonna snapped.
I bit my tongue to keep from exclaiming. “You reappeared much sooner than the last time they drugged me.”
“That’s because you need me more this time.” The plaintive tone in her voice almost made me miss Max’s statement.
“My heart tells me I truly love you, but my mind is confused because it doesn’t remember our history.”