Night's Pleasure
Page 6

“What happened?” she asked. “Where are we?”
“My place.” Taking a step forward, he offered her the glass. “You fainted in the parking lot.”
“I did?” She had never fainted in her life.
“Are you all right?”
“I guess so.” Stalling for time, she sipped the water, her mind reeling. She had to get out of there before it was too late, before he ripped her throat out. He didn’t look like a Werewolf, but then, she had no idea what a Werewolf looked like. Had she imagined the whole thing?
Eyes narrowed, she studied Rane, but, aside from the fact that he was probably the handsomest man on the planet with his thick black hair and heavily lashed black eyes, she didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. But looks could be deceiving. He had proved that in the parking lot.
He lifted one brow. “Something wrong?”
“Other than the fact that you’re a Werewolf, everything’s fine.”
“I’m not a Werewolf. I don’t howl at the moon. I don’t turn furry once a month. I just change shape.”
She didn’t believe him, but she nodded anyway. One should always humor Werewolves and crazy people. Setting the glass on the end table, Savanah glanced at her watch, surprised to see it was almost midnight. How long had she been unconscious? Her father would be wondering what happened to her.
Struggling to keep the panic from her voice, she said, “I think I’d better go.” Rising, she looked around for her handbag, wondering if he would let her leave, or if someone would find her mutilated body in a ditch come morning.
“Not yet.”
“What do you mean?” She didn’t need her handbag, she decided as she glanced anxiously at the door. She just wanted to go home.
“I’d like to get to know you better.”
Oh, Lord. A Werewolf and a lech! She stared at him, unable to think of anything to say while her mind scrambled to find a way out.
Rane dragged a hand through his hair, thinking he sounded like some tongue-tied high school kid. “What I mean is, I’m gonna be in town for another couple of weeks and I’d like to spend some of that time with you.”
“Oh.” His words, obviously sincere, took her by surprise.
“What do you say?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re bothered by what you saw tonight.”
“Can you blame me?”
“No, I guess not.”
“How long have you been a Werewolf?”
“I told you before, I’m not a Werewolf.” He couldn’t tell her the truth, not all of it, so he told her a part of the truth. “I’m a shape-shifter.”
“But…” She dropped down on the sofa again, thinking that a shape-shifter seemed a lot less scary than a Werewolf. “How did it happen? I mean, is it hereditary?”
“You could say that.”
“So, your parents are shape-shifters, too?”
Skirting the truth yet again, he nodded.
Savanah shook her head. “Amazing,” she muttered, and then frowned. “Can you change into other animals?”
“Yes.” Rane smiled inwardly, remembering how he and Rafe had often passed the quiet hours of the night by changing into lions and tigers and wolves. They seemed to have an affinity for predatory creatures, though he supposed, given their nature, that wasn’t surprising.
“Cats? Dogs? Elephants?”
He could see the wheels turning, knew she was thinking about what a great story it would make. He could see the headlines now: MAGICIAN’S SECRETS REVEALED.STORY ON PAGE TWO. “Remember your promise,” he said. “Everything that happened here tonight is off the record. You can’t write it up.”
“Who would believe me?” she muttered, and then frowned. Years ago, Werewolves and Vampires and shape-shifters had made the news. She had read about the war between the Supernatural creatures in the morgue files. No one really knew what had started the war, or why it had abruptly ended, but once it was over, the Supernatural creatures seemed to have disappeared. And now Rane was here. If the Supernatural creatures were surfacing again, it could be the story of a lifetime. But a promise was a promise.
Rane scooped her handbag from off the mantel and handed it to her. “Come on,” he said, “I’ll take you back to the club so you can get your car.”
With a nod, Savanah followed him outside to where a sleek silver Porsche waited in the driveway. He opened the passenger door for her and she slid into the seat. The leather, as soft as melted butter, seemed to enfold her.
“I knew it,” she said. “Zero to sixty in nothing flat.”
Chapter Four
Savanah’s father was in the living room, reading the newspaper, when she got home.
“Dad, what are you doing up so late?”
Folding the paper in half, he tucked it between his thigh and the side of his wheelchair. “Waiting for you, of course.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Shrugging out of her coat and kicking off her shoes, she padded across the floor and dropped a kiss on his forehead. “I’m a big girl now.”
“Maybe so, but…” He shrugged.
“I know, you don’t have to say it. I’ll always be your little girl.” Plopping down in the chair across from his, she curled her legs beneath her. “What did you do this evening?”
“Oh, the usual. How about you?”
“I had sort of a date.”
Her father arched one inquisitive brow. “Sort of a date? Is that something new?”
“Actually, it wasn’t a date at all. I went to the theater to see Santoro the Magnificent again. After the show, I waited for him in the alley, hoping to get that interview.”
Her father nodded his approval. “Any luck?”
“Not really, although we did go out for drinks.”
“I see.”
Savanah drummed her fingertips on the arm of the chair. She had promised she wouldn’t write anything about Rane’s shape-shifting ability, not that she could blame him for wanting to keep it a secret. If people knew he was a shape-shifter, it would not only ruin his image as an amazing magician, but it would garner a lot of unwelcome attention from other reporters and curiosity seekers that he would probably rather not have. On the other hand, if he wanted to stay out of the limelight, he had certainly chosen the wrong profession.
Still, a promise was a promise and she wouldn’t divulge what she had learned, but she hadn’t promised not to tell her father. She was splitting hairs, and she knew it, but she had to tell someone.
“So, you didn’t get an interview,” her father remarked. “What did you get?”
“More than I bargained for.”
“I’m listening.”
“This is just between you and me,” she said. “And totally off the record.”
He nodded. “All right.”
“He’s a shape-shifter.”
William Gentry leaned forward in his chair. “Did he tell you that?”
“He showed me.”
Leaning back, her father swore softly. “So,” he drawled thoughtfully, “that’s how he does it.”
“Well, it explains how he turns into a wolf. I still don’t know how he just disappears into thin air,” Savanah said, and then frowned. “Unless becoming invisible is part of shape-shifting.”
Her father frowned thoughtfully. “Could be,” he murmured. “Could be. There might be a moment between one form and the other when he’s invisible long enough for him to vanish.”
“Maybe. He said he’d like to see me again.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Savanah. In fact, I think it’s a terrible idea.”
“Why?”
“In the first place, we don’t know anything about him, and in the second place, he’s a shape-shifter, which means he’s not entirely human.” Her father shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of the two of you spending time together.”
Savanah shrugged. “He seems nice enough.”
“Yeah, well, they said Bundy was a nice guy, too.”
“Rane’s a magician, Dad, not a serial killer.” Savanah frowned inwardly. Not an hour ago, she had been scared half out of her mind, and now she was defending the very man who had frightened her out of ten years of her life.
“Rane? Is that his real name?”
She nodded. “Maybe he’ll give me that interview when we get to know each other better.”
“Maybe, but I still don’t like it.”
“You know, Dad, he’s not any more closemouthed than you are,” Savanah muttered. “You still haven’t told me about the story you’re working on.”
“That’s right, and I’m not going to, not yet, anyway.”
“It must be something really hush-hush,” Savanah remarked. Her father had worked on big stories before, but he had always shared them with her. This was the first time he had refused to discuss any part of it with her. So far, he hadn’t given her so much as a hint. It was maddening and frustrating. Being a journalist and naturally nosy, it had her curiosity ramped up as high as it would go. “Is it dangerous?”
“No more than any of the others,” he said with a shrug. “Don’t worry.”
“Worry?” she asked with exaggerated nonchalance. “Who, me?”
Gentry snorted softly. “I’m off to bed, honey. See you in the morning.”
“All right. Good night, Dad.”
Closing her eyes, Savanah leaned back in her chair and replayed everything that had happened that evening, from the time she’d stepped into the theater until she’d woken up in Rane’s house with no recollection of how she had gotten there.
He was a world-class magician.
He was gorgeous.
He was a shape-shifter.
She wondered what he was doing now. Was he perhaps thinking of her? Had it been foolish of her to agree to see him again? Her father certainly thought so. Did he know something she didn’t? But that was silly. If her father thought it was really dangerous for her to see Rane again, he would have said so and told her why.