Stroke of Midnight (Nightcreature #1.5)(28)

It was the same thought that crossed his mind later that night when he sat at the table, his plate piled high with fresh venison and an assortment of side dishes.

Muttering an oath, he grabbed a plate, filled it with meat and vegetables, and then made his way to the dungeon. She would be of no use in a trade if she starved herself to death. A harsh laugh escaped his lips. No doubt that was her intent.

He opened the door that led to the dungeon, grimaced at the stink of waste and decay that fouled his nostrils. Who could eat in a place like this? He thrust the thought from his mind as he descended the stairs and walked down the corridor that led to her cell.

She was standing in the corner farthest away from the straw tick.

His heart clenched when she turned to look at him. There were dark shadows under her eyes, her cheeks looked sunken, her skin pale. Her eyes were dull and filled with resignation.

"I've brought your supper," he said, his voice gruff.

She gestured at the straw tick. A large gray rat with beady black eyes looked up at him, a bit of potato in its jaws.

A vile oath erupted from Reyes's throat. Tossing the tray in his hands aside, he pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the cell door. The girl let out a wordless cry as he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the dungeon and up the stairs to the second floor. He opened the door to one of the vacant bedchambers, pushed her inside, and locked the door.

Striding to the head of the stairs, he looked over the railing at the servants milling below.

"Alyce! Beatrice! Attend me immediately."

In moments, the two maids were there, awaiting his orders.

"There is a woman in the room next to mine," he said, thrusting the key into Beatrice's hand. "Clean her up and bring her something to eat."

Beatrice curtsied. "Yes, my lord," she said, and hurried away.

"As you wish, my lord," the younger one replied with a saucy smile.

She was a pretty thing, was Alyce, with her curly brown hair and guileless blue eyes. He dismissed her with a wave of his hand, then returned to the hall and his own dinner, but food no longer held any appeal.

Late that night, he prowled the castle until, too restless to remain inside its walls, he left the keep by way of a secret passageway that emerged in the side yard. Under cover of darkness he shed his clothing, then surrendered to the beast within him, his body shifting, his bones popping and cracking as they took on a new shape.



Shanara stood at the window, her heart pounding. Surely she could not be seeing what she was seeing. But even as she watched, the man in the yard below cast off his clothing, and his body began changing, stretching, until, impossible as it was to believe, a large black wolf stood in his place.

She jerked away from the window when the wolf lifted its head. Had he seen her? She shivered as a howl rose on the midnight wind.

When she looked out the window again, the wolf was gone.

So, she had not been dreaming the last time. All the stories were true. Everything she had heard about Reyes was true. She had been afraid of him before, but not like this. It was one thing to be held prisoner by one's enemy, something else entirely when your enemy wasn't human.

She couldn't stay here any longer, clinging to the slim hope that her father would rescue her. Montiori would never agree to take her place. Still, he might consider the killing of his brother and the abduction of one of his daughters reason enough to attack Reyes.

But whether her father came for her or not, her life would be lost one way or another. If her father refused to take her place, she would be killed. If war came, her fate would be the same. Her father would not barter for her life. Alive or dead, she would be nothing but an excuse for another battle, another war.

She moved around the room, looking for anything she could use, either as a weapon or as a way to break the lock on the door.

She was about to give up hope when she saw the handle of a knife protruding from under the napkin on her dinner tray. A tray that should have been picked up hours ago. Using the tip of the blade, she pried at the lock on the door.

It gave with a soft click. Slipping the knife into the pocket of her gown, she tiptoed out of the room.





CHAPTER 4


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He ran through the night, every sense aware of his surroundings. He knew there was a deer hiding in the trees behind him, that another wolf had made a kill. He smelled the blood in the air. The earth was damp beneath the sensitive pads of his feet as he ran tirelessly through the darkness.

Freedom. It sang through his veins. He was no longer the lord of a great castle, no longer responsible for hundreds of lives. The woes and wars of mankind meant nothing to the wolf.

There was only freedom and the urge to hunt.

A rabbit sprang out from behind a bush. He chased it down; grabbing it in his jaws, he devoured it in a few bites.

The kill satisfied the urge to hunt, stilled the restlessness in his soul. What would it be like to succumb fully to the wolf, to turn his back on mankind and live in the wild? Even as the thought tempted him, the image of a green-eyed woman rose in his mind, luring him back toward the keep.

He had to see her one more time.

He was halfway back to the castle when a dark gray shape materialized out of the shadows and padded silently toward him.

Reyes came to an abrupt halt when the other wolf growled, its hackles rising as it bared its teeth.

Reyes sniffed the air and immediately recognized the scent of the other wolf. They had met before. On other occasions, Reyes had backed down. But not tonight. Tonight, the image of a green-eyed woman tormented him, a woman who filled him with a yearning he dared not indulge. Tonight a fight was just what he needed to ease his frustration.