Fires Of Solstice Part 31

He nodded.

"After those idiots tried to burn you at the stake, we decided to have someone powerful enough to protect you raise you. You and Bleddyn would have been married approximately seventy years ago if Hitler hadn't decided to bomb London."

Meredythe shifted in her chair. Bleddyn again. Everything came back to Bleddyn. "What if I don't want to be Bleddyn's mate?"

Three sets of stares zeroed in on her.

"Well, if I understand everything you told me, it's not like anyone asked me in the first place."

"Now see here," began Rhys.

A loud pounding on the door interrupted him.

"Now what?" he snapped as he rose to his feet.

Before he could step toward the door, it burst open and a man clad completely in black lunged into the room.

"Rhys, King told me to bring this to you. Someone managed to get some of Bleddyn' s DNA. Hopefully all of his notes and information are in this briefcase."

Rhys took the briefcase the stranger held out to him. "Thank you, Damian. I don't believe you've met Bleddyn's guest yet. Meredythe, this is Damian Winterbourne."

DNA, huh? She had to get to know this guy and find out where he got that briefcase. Meredythe rose and held out her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Winterbourne."

He turned to face her and she smiled. Definitely good-looking even if he was a little pale. And cold. His hand felt like ice. Of course, he did just come in from outside.

"My pleasure..." His voice trailed off as he stared at her.

"Is something wrong?" she asked as she tried to pull her hand free.

He swallowed once, twice. "You have a drop of blood on your chin."

As Meredythe watched, his canines lengthened and became prominent. His hand tightened on hers.

Methuselah hissed from the chair. Keri rose from before the fireplace, sauntered across the room and placed herself between them.

Damian, dear, you know how possessive Bleddyn is.

"d.a.m.n it, Damian," growled Rhys, "when was the last time you fed?"

Dropping her hand as if it burned, Damian stepped back.

Meredythe stumbled back to her chair. "You're a vampire."

His smile was wan. "Yes, I am." Turning to Rhys, he continued, "I haven't had anything to eat for the last thirty-six hours."

Rhys turned toward a low cabinet, admonishing the younger man as he did so. "Overconfident fool. You always push yourself too far. One of these days... " He turned back toward them holding a mug, which he handed to Damian. He waved his hand. "There, it's fresh. Now drink it before you fall over."

Meredythe watched Damian's Adam's apple bob up and down as he drank. Color appeared in his face.

"That... That was blood, wasn't it?"

Before she could answer, the door slammed open again and Bleddyn stalked into the room, naked. After sweeping the room with a quick glance, his gaze settled on Meredythe.

"Come with me now."

Her head snapped up. "I will not. And go put some clothes on. Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not polite to walk around naked?"

Bleddyn didn't say anything. He simply stepped across the room, grabbed Meredythe and threw her over his shoulder. Turning, he disappeared out the doorway, Meredythe's angry voice trailing after them.

"Put me down, you... you cretin. I'm not a side of beef!"

The sharp crack of a hand connecting with bare skin echoed back into the room.

Aghast, Damian turned to Rhys. "He didn't just hit her, did he? Bleddyn wouldn't hit Meredythe, would he?"

Keri's tongue lolled out and she grinned a wolfish grin.

No, Damian. Bleddyn wouldn't hit Meredythe. However, she has no such inhibitions.

Chapter Sixteen.

"d.a.m.n it. Put me down."

Bleddyn kicked the door to his bedroom shut, walked across the room and dropped Meredythe on the bed. He fell down beside her.

"Oh no you don't. Not again." She rolled across the bed and off the other side. She scrambled across the floor and grabbed the poker from where it still lay.

A haunted expression on his face, Bleddyn flopped back against the pillows and closed his eyes. "You won't need that, Meredythe. I'm not going to attack you."

She stared at him a moment then crossed the room to the fireplace and set the poker back in its stand. "Why the caveman act?"

He didn't open his eyes. "What?"

She returned to the side of the bed. "Dragging me here."

"I need you."

She snorted. "Stupid way to show it. All you had to do was ask."

He didn't answer her. Instead he threw his arm over his eyes and turned his head away.

Meredythe c.o.c.ked her head to the side and stared at him. His arm hid his face, but his body language conveyed his dejection.

"Is what Rhys told me true? You really believe you needed my virgin blood to save your soul?"

"Yes."

"How?"

He lowered his arm and stared at her. "How what?"

She shrugged. "How was it supposed to work?"

He sighed and covered his eyes again. "I don't know."

She c.o.c.ked an eyebrow. "Then how do you know it would work?"

Sighing again, he dropped his arm and looked at her. "The werewolf side of me didn't emerge until I hit p.u.b.erty. Two days after my first 'change', a druid seeress predicted that the l.u.s.t for blood and violence would overcome me unless I found my true mate. Then under the light of the moon, with the blood of this pure and untainted woman, the demon of l.u.s.t and carnage would be driven from my soul."

"How do you know I'm the right woman?"

Bleddyn's smile was weak. "Rhys cast a seeking spell. It led him to you. Besides, you wear a wolf head on your breast."

Involuntarily, Meredythe touched the mole on her left breast. There was a resemblance to the head of a howling wolf.

"Where did you go? Tonight, I mean."

"I ran. Running...calms me."

"You didn't kill anything."

He dropped his arm. "No, why?"

She hugged herself. "That bloodl.u.s.t business."

He shook his head. "There was none. s.e.x satisfies the urge."

Stiffening, Meredythe opened her mouth. He c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at her. She swallowed her retort. The s.e.x had been fantastic. Instead she asked, "What are you going to do now?"

He shrugged. "I'll fight the beast as I always have." Then he sighed. "You, I will keep. I've waited for you too long, and I've come to love you in these last few weeks."

Flabbergasted, Meredythe gaped. Then she snapped her mouth shut. Breathing deeply, she struggled to control her temper. Closing her eyes, she shuddered then swallowed. How could any man be so d.a.m.ned egotistical?

"Keep me! What, like...like an eigthteenth-century mistress?" she asked in a low voice. "What about me? What about how I feel? Maybe I don't want to be kept! Maybe I' m a grown woman capable of making my own decisions. Maybe you should take your archaic ideas about love and shove them where the sun doesn't shine."

Spinning on her heel, she stomped across the room, jerked open the door and disappeared into the hallway, slamming the door closed behind her. Pieces of plaster trickled to the floor.

Bleddyn stared at the closed door. He probably could have handled that better, but... She'd soon realize that she loved him. She had to. Sighing, he closed his eyes. The beast in his soul was quiet and he was tired.

Stomping down the hall to the room she called her own, Meredythe wrenched the door open and launched herself toward the bed. Flopping on her stomach, she punched a pillow. Keep her! Here! Bulls.h.i.t! She had a career and she was d.a.m.n good at it. Now she was supposed to give it all up for a man she didn't even know existed two months ago. When h.e.l.l froze over, maybe.

Rolling onto her back, she glared at the ceiling. "So why do I feel so guilty?"

Because you always feel like you should be able to fix everything.

Methuselah jumped onto the bed, sat down and began to wash his paw.

Meredythe glared at the cat. "Why didn't anybody bother to tell me-"

Tell you that you were destined to be the mate of a werewolf and save his soul from eternal d.a.m.nation? Would you have believed any of us?

Glaring at the cat, she punched the pillow again. "Aunt Evie isn't even my aunt, is she?"

Methuselah started washing his other paw. No.

"So nice of her to lie to me."

Methuselah dropped his foot to the bed and stared directly at Meredythe. Did the belief that she was your aunt hurt you in any way? She could not love you any more than she already does.

Meredythe flopped over onto her stomach again. d.a.m.n cat. He was right. Aunt Evie was as good as or better than any mother ever could have been, and still was.

"So what do we do now?"

What do you mean?

"Bleddyn? What do we do about him?"

Methuselah stretched, extending each toe and claw separately. Then he stared directly into her eyes.

He's managed this long without you. He'll continue to manage. That's what you want to hear, isn't it? You have your own life to live. Your have own career with your own goals. You've always known exactly what you wanted out of life, so why are you worrying about Bleddyn Glyndwr? You've discovered your serial killer. You have the story you wanted, your ticket to recognition, fame, awards, right?

Settling down onto the other pillow, Methuselah tucked his paws under his chest, closed his eyes and began to purr.

Meredythe glared at the cat. "How can you be so unfeeling? You don't have to worry about wanting to kill people when the moon starts to get full."

He opened one eye. Your point?

She glared at him. "My point? You insensitive...cat! I can't write that story. They'd lock Bleddyn up and turn him into some kind of scientific experiment. I won't do that to him."

He closed his eye. Why not? It's not as if you're in love with him.

Muttering a curse about smarta.s.s cats, Meredythe shoved herself into a sitting position, crossed her legs, rested an elbow on her thigh and cupped her chin in her hand. Love Bleddyn? She barely knew him. Not that it mattered. She still wasn't going to write that story. As much as Bleddyn's att.i.tude irritated her, she couldn't condemn him to the kind of life he'd lead if the scientific community found out about him.

Sighing, she shifted her chin to her other hand as she thought about what Bleddyn had told her. As for him thinking he loved her, well, she could understand how he felt. He honestly believed that she was the one to save him from himself, so to speak. After waiting that long for something only to lose it...

She cupped her chin in both hands. Okay, for the sake of argument, what if she was the one who would save Bleddyn? How would her being a virgin have helped him? What was so important about virgin blood? What if she had been a virgin without a hymen? Or one that broke sometime during childhood? That had been known to happen. What then? Besides, according to Bleddyn, the seeress said pure and untainted, not virgin.

She straightened and stared at the sleeping cat. She needed to know exactly what that seeress had said. Something was missing or misunderstood or mistranslated. She'd stake her reputation on it.

Scooting off the bed, she headed back to Bleddyn's room.

Bleddyn stared at the stars, brooding. None of them ever antic.i.p.ated the possibility that Meredythe wouldn't be a virgin when he finally claimed her. If he ever got his hands on the man...