Eyes Like a Wolf Read online

  “Crap.” She squeezed my hand, then dropped it. “I'm going to regret this. I know I am.” She ran a hand through her bushy hair, making it even messier. “I'll try and help you, Kemet, even though I think it's stupid and wrong. I don't know that I'll have much success, but I'll try.”

  “Thank you.” I leaned over impulsively and gave her a hug.

  “All right.” She patted my back awkwardly and drew away. “Like I said, I know I'm going to regret this.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Kemet, can you hear me?”

  “Genevieve?” I held the cell phone to my ear, straining to make out her words. It was barely an hour before my rehearsal dinner, and I sat alone on my lumpy loveseat, trying to work up the energy to get a shower and get dressed for the happy occasion. So far the farthest I'd gotten toward this lofty goal was kicking off my sensible black leather pumps and letting down my hair. The huge, vulgar diamond engagement ring Charles had given me lay discarded on my coffee table. It had suddenly seemed too heavy to wear when all I could think about was Richard and whether he was alive or dead. I had been sitting for hours in the semi-gloom of my living room, reliving the feel of his hands on my skin, the taste of his lips on mine. Only when the shrill tone of my cell phone intruded had I come to life.

  “Kemet?” she said again in a barely audible voice. “Sorry I have to whisper, but I don't think I'm alone here.”

  “Where? Where are you?” I demanded breathlessly.

  “If I tell you, you have to promise not to come down here until I get some back-up and clear the scene,” she whispered. “Swear it, Kemet.”

  “I swear,” I said at once, fully aware that I was lying through my teeth. But at that point I would have said anything, would have told any lie, to find Richard. To have him near me, to touch him again.

  “Well…okay.” Detective Marks sounded doubtful, but to my relief, she began to talk anyway. “I'm down here at the far end of Channelside. You know the part with all the abandoned warehouses?”

  “Yes? Go on,” I urged her.

  “Well, I'm beginning to think that one of them—the old Ormond one, isn't quite as abandoned as the others,” she murmured. “At least, not many abandoned buildings have a brand new Mercedes S-class parked around back.”

  “Is that all?” I asked, my heart sinking. “What makes you think Richard is there just because of some car parked out back?”

  “For one thing I followed a lead out here—a tip from my best informant,” she said, still keeping her voice low. “Word on the street is that Momo wants to make an example out of your brother. Or, uh, whatever he is to you. The wiseguys like to spend time on this end of town—not many prying eyes to interrupt their deals. So I figured if they snatched Richard, they took him here.”

  “Oh, my God.” I clutched the cell phone so hard its plastic casing creaked in my hand. “Oh, God, Genevieve, what if he's dead? What if they killed him?” Just the thought of never seeing him again, of living the rest of my life without him was enough to bring me to my knees. I couldn't live without him—I just couldn't.

  “Settle down, Kemet,” Genevieve muttered. “He's not dead.”

  “No?” I asked, almost afraid to let myself feel relief.

  “No, but he is hurt. Or it looks like it anyway. I'm watching him through a busted out window around the side of the building. They've got him in some kinda weird cage, and he's lying on his side. Looks sick.”

  “God.” I closed my eyes briefly, remembering my dreams. Rachel, please come to me. The moon is full tonight. I had to get to him. Had to get to him now. Genevieve must have heard the anguish in my voice because her own voice sharpened considerably.

  “I'm telling you, Kemet, don't come down here,” she warned. “It's not safe. I mean, I shouldn't even be here by myself and I'm armed. I'm going to call for back-up just as soon as I hang up with you. We'll clear the scene and get him out of there. I want you to just wait by the phone until you hear from me again. Got it?”

  “Got it,” I said obediently, but I was already slipping back into my shoes and grabbing my keys. I knew the warehouse she was talking about because I'd taken a field trip down to the seedy area of Channelside once while doing research for a case. It was at the far end of the industrial district, about a mile from where the cruise ships docked, and it had peeling orange paint and the word, Ormond printed in huge, black letters along the side.

  “Good.” Genevieve sounded relieved that I was obeying orders so nicely. “I'm gonna let you go now and call—” There was a sudden thumping sound and then a clatter, as though she'd dropped the phone and it had landed on concrete.

  “Genevieve?” I asked. “Genevieve?” There was a dry click on the other end, and the phone in my hand went dead abruptly. Oh, God, what had happened? Was she all right? Or had she just dropped the call?

  I stood shifting from foot to foot for almost a minute, paralyzed by indecision. Then I thought of my dream again. Of the boy with Richard's eyes. With eyes like a wolf. Rachel, I'm dying, he whispered in my head.

  Suddenly, my paralysis broke, and I knew what I had to do. Richard was sick, maybe dying, and I knew without anyone having to tell me that he was dying for want of me. For lack of my touch. No matter what danger I was walking into, I had to get to him. And I had to go now.

  I ran out the door, forgetting all about Charles, forgetting about the rehearsal dinner and the fact that I was supposed to be married at eleven o'clock the next day. Forgetting everything but the man I needed so desperately.

  “Richard,” I murmured under my breath as I started my car. “I'm coming. Just hold on—I'm coming.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Don't let me be too late. Please, don't let me be too late. The thought circled in my head like a mantra as I pushed my little car to the limit trying to get to Channelside on time. The district wasn't far from my house, but I got stuck in Friday night traffic on the way, people trying to get to the trendy new restaurant and shopping district that had grown up around the Forum where the Tampa Bay Lightning played.

  I thought about calling the police as I drove, but even if Genevieve hadn't done that already, I just wasn't sure I wanted them involved. I mean, what was I supposed to tell them, that I needed help freeing my brother, who was being held by the mob for turning into a werewolf and slaughtering one of their button men? And what if Richard was…in his other form when they found him? He'd be locked up and probably taken away by the government to be studied like some kind of freak. No, I couldn't risk it. It was better to go alone and see if there was any way I could get him out myself before I involved anyone in authority. I just hoped I'd get there before Genevieve's back-up—if she had gotten a chance to call them, that is.

  There was one call I did make, though. I left a brief message on Charles's voice mail telling him not to worry if I didn't make it to the rehearsal dinner. I said there had been an emergency with a friend, and that I would get back to him as soon as I could. I felt guilty for the little white lie but the last thing I needed was for Charles to put out an APB on me. Call finished, I threw the cell phone in the backseat and put my fiancé, my rehearsal dinner, and my upcoming wedding completely out of my mind. Richard was the only person who mattered to me now. I had to concentrate on finding him. Finding him and bringing him home.

  “Come on, come on,” I muttered under my breath as I looked for a back street, trying to get out of the bottleneck of cars lined up to get to the parking garage. I finally managed it and headed in the direction of the abandoned warehouses. It was already getting dark by the time I spotted Genevieve's car, parked at a discreet distance from the Ormond warehouse, which sat like a huge white ghost in the gathering gloom.

  I got out of my car warily and made my way around to the side of the big building. I didn't see any lights burning in the broken windows, but the warehouse didn't feel empty to my highly attuned senses. I walked softly around the edge of broken concrete that encircled the warehouse, keeping my eyes wide for any