Page 64 of Master Wolf

“You know what I want,” Drew gritted out. “I want you to free me. I want to stop craving you.”

Lindsay said nothing. His expression was tormented and his scent was a tangle of longing and grief. He was hurting, and in a way that was so similar to Drew’s own pain that Drew couldn’t hold onto his anger any longer. Turning away to hide his distress, Drew said, his voice rough, “I just want to be free, Lindsay. That’s all.”

“I know.” Lindsay said quietly. He was quiet for a long time then, but at last he spoke again. “It’s hard to be separated from you, but I’ve come to accept that it’s best that we’re apart.” He paused. “I may not be able to free you, Drew, but I can, at least, stay away from you from now on.”

Pain pierced Drew’s heart, like he’d taken a lance to the chest. He opened his mouth to—what? Protest? Argue?—but before he could form words, Lindsay’s scent swirled, the door opened and closed, and when Drew turned back…

Lindsay was gone.

Chapter Nineteen

The present

Edinburgh,November 1820

Three daysafter Bainbridge offered to show Drew his “creature”, a note arrived from him inviting Drew to visit at four o’clock the next day. The note explained that Bainbridge was staying near Colinton village, a few miles outside the city, at the house of a friend who was presently away.

The invitation had been brought by a youth who’d been asked to wait for Drew’s reply. Drew dashed off a note of acceptance and handed it back to the youth with a coin for his trouble.

When Marguerite returned to the house and he told of her this development, she suggested they go to Albany Street to discuss the matter with Wynne and Lindsay.

“Lindsay has asked me to stay away,” Drew said tentatively, his face warming with shame at the admission.

Marguerite only waved an impatient hand. “Yes, yes. However, we need to consult with him and Wynne—he will understand.”

“What is there to consult about?”

“We need to decide who is going,” she replied, already replacing the bonnet she had just removed.

“I thought to go alone,” Drew said. “The invite is only addressed to me.”

“As if I would permit that!” Marguerite scoffed, as she strode to the front door, forcing Drew to follow her. “Really, I am surprised that you would suggest such a thing. Consider what you will be walking into! We will need two of us at least, or three preferably, if any action requires to be taken.”

Drew frowned but he had to admit she had a point.

Although it was after noon when they reached Albany Street, the curtains over Lindsay’s bedchamber window remained closed. A familiar pain twisted in Drew at the sight. It had been four days since he’d last seen Lindsay, and in all that time he’d felt no trace of the connection between them, only a terrible aching void.

Perhaps a few weeks ago, that would have struck him as a good thing, but now—knowing what Lindsay was doing to himself to break the bond—Drew was filled with guilt and sorrow.

Lindsay had made it plain when Drew had last seen him that he intended to continue with the Wolfsbane. Indeed, Drew feared that Lindsay might have increased his use in his desperation to finally and completely sever his bond with his wolf. He dreaded how he might find Lindsay.

The door was answered by the servant, Robert, who showed them into the empty parlour.

“Mr. Wildsmith says he and Mr. Somerville will be down shortly,” the servant said. “May I fetch you some refreshments?”

“Some tea,” Marguerite said. “And cake if you have it. Or even better, meat pie. I am famished, aren’t you, my love?”

“Hmm. I suppose,” Drew said absently.

If the servant was surprised at Marguerite’s unladylike request, he gave no sign, only nodded and withdrew.

Drew had thought that Lindsay and Wynne would come down directly, but when the door opened again ten minutes later, it was only the same manservant, this time with a heavily laden tray containing a whole meat pie, a whole seedcake and two pots of tea.

Clearly he was well trained. Marguerite clapped her hands delightedly.

She had finished a sizeable portion of the pie and was starting in on the cake when the door finally opened again to admit their hosts. Drew rose from his chair, starting forward only to halt where he stood when Lindsay said, “Sit down, both of you. Wynne will get me comfortable first.”

Wynne was practically holding Lindsay up, his arm about Lindsay’s slim waist, and Lindsay was more pale and drawn than ever, though his eyes glittered almost feverishly. His thin frame was swamped by his crimson dressing gown, his arm in the black silk sling. And all Drew could think of was his poor ulcerated skin and the black-green poison spread over it. Did it burn, he wondered. He thought of the red, weeping sores and his throat closed up.