Page 54 of Master Wolf
Lindsay reached for the blue glass bottle that held the Wolfsbane. It was indeed the one Drew had thought it was last night. He didn’t open it, though. Just sat there, holding it.
After a moment he said quietly, without looking at Drew, “It’s probably best if you stay away from now on. I realise it’s difficult to stop your wolf when it gets an idea in its head, but the full moon has passed now and you shouldn’t need to shift again for a while.”
Drew swallowed against the lump in his throat. “If that’s what you want,” he said hoarsely.
“Yes,” Lindsay said bleakly. “That’s what I want.”
Chapter Sixteen
The past, part 4 – 12 years earlier
Venice,September 1808
Drew frownedwhen he reached the address Francis had given him. There was a masqueradehere? Tonight? The mansion house before him was subdued and sober. No guests milled outside.
He approached the large and solid front door, pausing to straighten his mask—which covered his brows and nose, leaving his eyes and cheeks exposed—before he knocked.
He had been sent here by Marguerite to fetch Lindsay and Wynne. Marguerite had been adamant that neither she nor Francis would be admitted to the house, for reasons she had not deigned to share, and so Drew must go. She had warned him that it was not the usual sort of masquerade one found in Venice, with dancing and flirtation and some sneaking around of married ladies and gentlemen with their paramours. This was likely to be far less polite.
“They will probably be knee-deep in an orgy by the time you arrive,”she had said.
Which of course meant that Drew had immediately pictured Lindsay indulging in all sorts of fleshy delights. And that had made his wolf snarl with jealousy and resentment. It was a ridiculous reaction, but then Drew’s wolf was a ridiculous—and possessive and jealous—creature.
Right now, Drew felt overwound, tight with mingled anxiety and excitement. It had been a year and a half since he’d last seen Lindsay and this encounter was something he could not help but long for even as he dreaded it. He hated how weak he was when it came to Lindsay.
Setting his shoulders, he raised his fist and rapped sharply upon the door.
He heard the clatter of a peephole being opened, and a deep voice asked his name. Drew gave the one he’d been provided with by Francis, and the peephole slammed closed again, only for the door to swing open moments later, revealing two large men in a brightly lit atrium.
“Lift your mask, please, sir,” one of them said, expressionless. The other stood silent beside him, watching as Drew removed his hat and slid up the mask to show his face fully. Despite having requested this, neither man seemed particularly interested in looking at him. They merely nodded permission for him to replace the mask and the more talkative of the two jerked his thumb at a door a few yards behind them.
“Through that door, up the stairs.”
Drew gave a short nod and moved past them.
The door was stout and made of heavy wood. Once open, the telltale sounds of voices and laughter and the faint strains of music drifted down from upstairs.
He began to climb.
When he reached the top of the stairs it was to find a matching closed door, and when he opened that second door, he found himself in a long, narrow corridor. Though it was poorly lit, he could make out bodies further down the corridor and as he got closer, he saw it was a couple, getting amorous. The lady, who wore an elaborate, old-fashioned gown with wide panniers, a stiff bodice and acres of sea-green silk, was being pressed up against the wall by a Pantalone figure dressed in red with yellow Turkish slippers and a black cloak. The Pantalone’s features were disguised by a knobby black mask with a hooked nose, only his mouth and chin exposed. As Drew got closer, he saw that the lady was in fact a youth of uncommon and ambiguous beauty. The youth peeped over the Pantalone’s shoulder as Drew passed, and winked lewdly before turning his lush red mouth towards the Pantalone’s neck to—kiss or bite? Drew could not tell, but the groan the man gave was ripe with pleasure.
The music was getting louder as Drew continued on his way. When he finally reached the end of the corridor and passed through a third and final door into a sizeable ballroom, the music swelled dramatically, enveloping Drew and tugging him forward.
The ballroom was full of masqueraders. They were in a variety of states of dress and undress… and of sobriety and insobriety. Some were dancing, some were laughing and drinking, and some were getting very intimate. At the far end of the chamber, an eight-piece orchestra played a frantic gavotte while groups of dancers cavorted chaotically.
As Drew moved forward, he caught the faintest thread of Lindsay’s scent. It teased at him, playful and alluring.
He followed it.
It led him to a shadowy corner on the other side of the room, where a group of masqueraders sprawled in a circle made up of various chairs and one longer sofa. They were hanging all over one another and laughing immoderately.
Amongst them was Lindsay.
He was dressed as Harlequin, his lean, muscular body displayed by the distinctive tight-fitting colourful suit. A black half-mask covered the upper half of his face and his long dark hair, which had clearly been neatly tied at his nape at the start of the evening, had come loose, half of it escaping its queue and brushing his shoulders.
His red bicorn hat had been appropriated by the beautiful young man who was half-sitting, half-lying on him
The lancing pain Drew felt at that sight of that young beauty on Lindsay’s lap was a physical agony in his chest. A stupid reaction. No reason to feel that way. And yet he found himself imagining hauling the boy off of Lindsay and straddling Lindsay’s strong, slim body. Forcing Lindsay to touchhim, seehim.