Page 59 of Master Wolf
Something in Bainbridge’s eyes flickered, his scent shifting slightly.
Avarice.
“When I heard of the skeleton,” Drew went on, “Naturally I thought of what my uncle had written. And when Isawit.” He stepped closer and said softly but eagerly, “You don’t believe that skeleton was a man with a bone growth disease any more than I do. Youknowwhat he was, don’t you?”
Bainbridge said nothing, just kept watching Drew with an unflinching gaze, waiting.
“The fangs, the elongated skull, the placement of the eye sockets—he was awerewolf, wasn’t he? Like the creature my uncle wrote about?”
Bainbridge stared at him for several long, penetrating moments during which Drew began to feel sure that the man had somehow seen through him. Could see to the beast beneath his skin.
But then Bainbridge’s eyes glittered strangely and he whispered, “It’s possible.”
“Only possible?” Drew frowned, then shot Bainbridge an apologetic look. “I beg your pardon. I assumed you would have—” He broke off. “Never mind.”
Bainbridge eyed him warily. “What?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Tell me,” Bainbridge insisted.
Drew sighed. “I just thought if I ever met a White Raven that they would have at least seen a wolf before.”
“Seena wolf?” Bainbridge retorted in harsh whisper. “I have more than merelyseenone, Mr. Niven.”
Drew leaned closer. “Have you?”
Bainbridge’s aggrieved expression softened and his pale, almost colourless eyes gleamed. He didn’t answer immediately though, his gaze returning to the ring on Drew’s finger which he stared at fixedly, seeming to consider.
Finally, he said, “You wish to join our Order, Mr. Niven? And contribute to our work? I will warn you now, our efforts come at a high cost and there is no return on the money you give—not in financial terms. We are working towards a higher purpose.”
“I know,” Drew whispered. “You seek the secret of eternal life, do you not? I would gladly contribute to such a cause.” He paused, then added deliberately, “Provided I was convinced that I would benefit from it, of course. And that it was no sham.” He met Bainbridge’s eyes. “I am no gullible fool, Mr Bainbridge.”
Bainbridge smiled a thin-lipped smile. “I believe I can convince you of our sincerity. How would you like to see a real live werewolf, Mr. Niven?”
Chapter Eighteen
The past, part 5 – 12 years earlier
Venice,September 1808
“Dinner,”Lindsay said flatly. “You sent Drew to a masquerade to fetch Wynne and me so that we coulddinewith you?”
Marguerite glared at him. “But of course! Drew is only here one night. Why would I not want us all together at such a time?”
“Oh I see,” Lindsay replied. “Drew doesn’t come near you for years on end, during which time he doesn’t even write to let you know how he goes on, but the moment he turns up, the fatted calf is slaughtered as though he’s the prodigal son.”
“That’s not fair,” Francis put in mildly. “He’s already been to Saxony for Mim. Went to fetch her that grimoire she wanted so badly. What’s it called, Mim?”
Marguerite blushed. Actuallyblushed. Drew hadn’t known she was capable of blushing. He had never seen her other than entirely composed.
“Not the Leipzig grimoire?” Wynne said slowly. “The one I—”
“Yes,” Marguerite bit out. “What of it? I thought you wanted it?”
Wynne blinked. “I—I do, I just didn’t…” He trailed off, seeming unsure how to complete the sentence. When the silence continued, he added, awkwardly, “You didn’t get it forme?”
“Of course I did. It is not much use to me, is it?” Marguerite said tightly. “I am not a witch.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Besides, I merely provided the money to buy it. Drew is the one who risked his neck to go and get it and to bring it here.”