CHAPTER 62

THE ROOM IS EXACTLY AS I REMEMBERED IT. Heavy, dark furniture that looks like it belonged in a castle and probably did at one time. Bookcases lining two walls; a huge stone fireplace facing the bed. Arched windows send slanting rays of sunshine and shadow skittering along the walls.

But something is different. It takes me a moment to identify what it is. The light. The light in the room is different. It’s December now, not July. The shift in the angle of a sun moving in a low winter arc paints the walls in pewter instead of gold. Even the fire blazing out from the massive hearth can’t remove the chill.

Tamara makes a sound in her throat. It brings me back, and when I turn, I see Sandra for the first time.

She’s lying propped up by pillows in Avery’s bed. Avery’s bed. At first my senses are overcome by his smell: male, vampire, musk. Then I recognize with sickening clarity that I’m there, too. A hint of perfume, of sweat. Those silken sheets are permeated with the essence of our mingled passion. Pheromones, testosterone, lust. How many times did we have sex in that bed? How can Sandra stand to lie there?

I realize that she’s watching me. I center my thoughts and study her. She is pale, without makeup, her hair combed back from her face. She’s wearing a nightgown, blue chiffon, translucent against the swell of her breasts. The blankets are gathered around her waist. Her hands are clasped on top. She exudes none of the strength, none of the sexuality, that captivated me before. The woman before me is a child, frightened, lost. It sickens me to realize that the same way he controlled me in life, Avery was able to control me through Sandra. I don’t know how long I have before Avery resurfaces. I don’t know that I could confront him in this room.

“Why did you wait so long to come here?” I ask her.

“Avery needed time to gather strength,” she whispers. Her voice is strained, husky. Then, as if the act of speaking is painful, she raises a hand to her throat. “He tries to keep me from communicating. Even now.”

Tamara steps to the bed and strokes Sandra’s hair. Sandra turns grateful eyes to her, and Tamara takes up the story.

“Avery and Sandra met many years ago. She was a girl newly turned, and he a powerful vampire who was curious about the werewolf. In all his years, she was the first that didn’t exhibit hostility to the vampire. In turn, he took her under his protection and allowed her to choose those of our kind willing to bind with her in a pack.”

She looks away from Sandra and to me. “Do you know much about the werewolf pack?”

I shake my head. “Only what I learned recently from an old text. An alpha male dominates the pack. There are more male than female weres and that the female is always subjugated to the male. I remember in Culebra’s bar, the proportion of male to female in your pack was reversed. Your pack is different.”

Tamara smiles. “The text you read called it subjugation? I suppose that’s as good a word as any. In reality, it’s rape and often murder. The old laws are seldom followed. The alpha male takes what he wants. If a female survives, as I did, life becomes a nightmare. She is forced to live with the pack, forced to mate in human or animal form at the whim of any male, forced to work to provide money to sustain the pack. I was one of the lucky ones who escaped. I ran to Mexico. Where I met Sandra.”

Sandra reaches up to clasp her hand. Tamara takes it, brushes a bit of hair from Sandra’s forehead with a gentle touch, and continues.

“Sandra was a survivor, like me. She was with Avery at that time, and when he heard my story, he purchased a compound for us in the jungles of Mexico. Gradually other females found us. Our pack thrives because we are content to live in harmony with the nature of our beast. We live naturally, we do not propagate, we do no harm. The males that are with us are there for exactly the same reason. Freedom.”

“The marriage—Sandra and Avery—when did that happen?”

For the first time, she looks uneasy. “There is no marriage. Avery forced that story on us as a way to regain his estate through Sandra. He thinks he can keep her here. He has become the thing he saved her from all those years ago. He has made her his prisoner.”

“How did it happen? How did Avery take possession of Sandra?”

“I don’t know. It was at the time of change. We were in the jungle, and suddenly Sandra fell ill. She was as the wolf, then her human body took over. It can’t happen that quickly. The change must be gradual and when it’s not, the pain is unbearable. She screamed and thrashed about, and when the wolf came back, Avery was there as well.”

She draws a breath. “In the beginning, Avery was content to allow Sandra to live as we always have. He never prevented her from making the change. Instead, he seemed to revel in the transformation, the freedom of the animal hunt, the freedom from vampire bloodlust. None of us understood what was happening. Not really. He would talk to us sometimes, the way he did with you, but there was no hint of what was to come.”

Sandra makes a mewling noise. When we look at her, she is frowning, her hand again at her throat.

“He is struggling to come back,” Tamara says. “When he does, he’ll punish her. We have to hurry.”

“But how is it possible he could have hidden the talisman without Sandra knowing?”

Tamara is watching Sandra, looking for signs that Avery is back in control. “There are hours when Sandra awakens as if from a dream and remembers nothing of what has happened. It was during one of those periods that she discovered her talisman had gone missing. She thinks he did it because she was fighting him. Coming here, for instance, she refused as long as she was able. He has become too strong.”

“If we get the talisman back, do you know what will happen to Avery?”

“If Sandra regains possession of the talisman, she can fight Avery as a wolf. He cannot sustain himself indefinitely in the animal body. He cannot escape. She will remain wolf until she feels him die. Only then will she turn back.”

“How long will it take?”

Once more, Tamara strokes Sandra’s hair, lovingly, like a mother with a sick child. “It could take days. A week. During that time, Sandra will not eat or drink. In ridding herself of Avery, she risks her own death.” She raises her eyes to mine. “I believe you understand that though, don’t you, Anna?”

Do I understand being willing to die to rid oneself of a monster? Yes. The same monster Sandra battles now.

“If it’s here, in the house, I know the place Avery may have hidden the talisman.”

I step to the fireplace. It has one of those massive stone fireboxes that is big enough to walk into with storage areas for wood on each side. The mantel is a solid slab of heavy, dark wood. There are two sconces anchored above it to the wall.

The fire scorches my skin as I get closer. I reach up, grab the sconce to the right and pull. There is a grinding sound and the left side of the fireplace moves in on itself. The storage area becomes a door and it opens into a long, dark staircase.

I hear Tamara’s breath catch. Then she’s beside me, peering into the void. “What’s down there?”

“Treasure,” I reply. “And pain.”

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