story and make them believe it.”
She swallowed hard. “But none of that is true. He’d have no proof.”
“It doesn’t make any difference. What does matter is that he will have convinced everyone that he took your daughter away for her own good. That you are a danger to her. I promise you, they will believe him.”
Crossing her arms, her expression radiating darkness, she dropped into the dingy motel chair. “I’ll kill him.”
“No, you won’t.” Though if the truth were to be told, he’d been aching to take the man out himself ever since the news story had aired. But the repercussions would be tremendous. “Making him pay will have to wait. First, we’re going to rescue your kid and get away. After that, I’ll figure out a way to expose him, so he can’t do this to anyone else.”
“Hailey,” she said. “Her name is Hailey.” There was both strength and delicacy in her face. “Inside there, in Sanctuary, they kept trying to depersonalize her and I instinctively kept insisting on giving them her name. At the time, I didn’t understand why. Unfortunately, I do now.”
Eyeing her, he felt it again: the rush of attraction that was not only inappropriate, but dangerous. He wondered if Blythe even realized how beautiful she was. On the heels of that thought came another, one he’d considered earlier and had forgotten.
For as long as Lucas had known him, Jacob had always had a weakness for the ladies. If worst came to worst, there was the possibility that they could use that against him. Lucas decided not to mention it to Blythe yet. Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that.
Her stomach growled, making him smile, even as she gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry,” she said. “I should have gone hunting earlier.”
“When was the last time you ate?”
She thought for a moment. “On the drive down here yesterday.”
“Yesterday? I saw the story on the news a few days ago. I would have thought you’d have been here longer.”
“Nope. Jacob had a few more appearances scheduled, so Hailey and I spent the day shopping, eating out, and we saw a movie,” she said. “I had a few misgivings, and apparently for good reason. I so badly wanted to have hope. Instead, I should have trusted my instincts.” Sighing, she glanced away. “Look what happened. I haven’t even been here twenty-four hours and already my baby is in danger.”
“Don’t worry,” he spoke with more confidence than he felt. “We’ll get her out. In the meantime, I’ll go fetch us something to eat.”
She nodded listlessly, so he left her there.
Later, he returned with a couple of breakfast burritos and coffees, as well as a change of clothes for her that he grabbed at the local big box store. She ate with a mechanical precision that told him she was already working on a rudimentary plan.
“Maybe you should tell me,” she said, blotting her mouth with a napkin. She’d missed a crumb, and he found himself aching to lick it off her lips, which shocked him.
What the hell was wrong with him? With difficulty, he tried to focus on her words. “Tell you what?”
“What I should expect to find when we get into Sanctuary.” Mouth a thin line, she leaned forward. “I need to be prepared.”
“No,” he said, as gently as he could. “You don’t. Let’s leave it at that.”
Her gaze locked with his, the determination in her expression twisting his gut. But finally she nodded. “You’re right. I need to concentrate on getting Hailey out.”
“Yes.”
“But after...”
“One day at a time,” he told her. “That’s how we’re going to get through this. One day at a time.”
Though she nodded, she got up and began to pace the confines of the small hotel room, her lithe grace reminding him more of a trapped panther than a wolf. Even in the artificial light, her hair gleamed like strands of luxurious silk.
Watching her, he tried to throttle the dizzying current of desire racing through him. This both infuriated and intrigued him, because despite his instinctive reaction to her when he’d seen her on the television, he hadn’t expected to want her. More than that, actually. He hadn’t thought he’d crave her the way he did.
He needed to get a grip. For someone who always prided himself on being in control, he felt perilously close to completely losing it.
“I wonder, have you always known?” he asked her, more to distract them both than anything else.
She stopped pacing, swiveling her head around to look at him, sending her long hair whipping around her shoulders. “Have I always known what?”
Feeling foolish, now he regretted asking. Almost. “What you were. A Shape-shifter. When was the first time you changed into a wolf? How old were you?”
As distractions went, it worked. Head cocked, she stared at him, the expression in her vivid green eyes making it clear she was trying to decide if he was messing with her or telling the truth.
“I really want to know,” he added, his voice a bit huskier than he’d have preferred, but sincere all the same.
“I was ten,” she said. “Most of us are ten or eleven when we shift for the first time. Once in a while it happens to someone much younger, but that’s the general age.”
“I see.” Truthfully, he hadn’t known.
“You had no one to guide you at all, did you?” she finally asked. “Because your mother died and you were all alone, except for that crazy man who raised you.”
He doubted his careless shrug fooled her. “I had no idea. The first few times I had the urge to shift, I panicked. I was eleven and I didn’t know what was wrong with me.” He and Lilly had shared that sense of fear. But of course, he didn’t mention that to Blythe.
“Did you go to your father?’
He winced, this time unable to hide it. “No. I couldn’t. Even though I was still relatively normal, I couldn’t fail to notice how rigid the lines were for him. I think I instinctively knew he would recoil from me in disgust and horror.”
The sympathy on her beautiful face completely pissed him off. He didn’t want her pity, or anyone else’s, for that matter. That was part of the reason he’d avoided his own kind all these years. He was what he was and damned if he’d make apologies for it.
With difficulty, he managed to rein in his emotions. None of this was her fault. In truth, he didn’t understand the way she made him feel, the things she made him want. Desire was both the least and the greatest of these.
What he was about to tell her was private—he’d never shared it with another human being, with the exception of the one person he’d let Jacob destroy.
But Jacob had her daughter. If anyone deserved to know, it was Blythe. He’d have to be careful in how he told it, because Lilly had been with him then. Lilly had always been with him. He and his twin had been
