Chasing Midnight

“Griffin?” she murmured.

“It’s all right, Gemma,” he said. “Keep still.”

“Good advice,” a voice said.

A tall figure rounded the corner of a narrow tenement building, his shadow preceding him. At his side loped two enormous canines, eyes reflecting yellow from a distant streetlight. They ran ahead and came to a stop a few dozen feet from Griffin, pacing back and forth with lolling tongues.

Griffin pushed Allegra behind him and shook out his shoulders, flexing his muscles and breathing deeply. “Ivar,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Ivar strolled forward. “I came to talk business, Durant,” he said, “but not with that around.”

Allegra brushed against Griffin, air hissing between her teeth. Griffin forcibly restrained her with one arm, holding Gemma close with the other.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand you, Ivar,” he said. “Perhaps it would be more convenient if we meet at another time and place.”

Ivar laughed. The wolves stopped their pacing and faced Griffin, lips pulled back from ivory fangs. “Since when did you start consorting with leeches, Durant? You think that’s better than us?”

“You want me to show you, dog?” Allie purred. A cloud of hostile scent rose from her body. It struck Griffin full force, and even Ivar blinked.

“Easy,” Griffin whispered. He met Ivar’s gaze. “It’s none of your business what company I keep,” he said.

“Oh, yeah?” Ivar snapped his fingers, and the wolves sat on their haunches, ready to lunge at the slightest provocation. “It is our business if what you do endangers the rest of us.”

Griffin gently turned Gemma and passed her, coat and all, into Allegra’s arms. “Keep her safe,” he said. “No matter what you have to do.”

“You’re going to fight?”

“I may not have a choice.”

Allegra nodded, though her eyes blazed with fury. She backed away, half carrying Gemma with her. The wolves leaped up and circled behind the women, giving Griffin a wide berth.

“You should know how little Garret approves of your attitude,” Ivar said.

Griffin stalked toward Ivar, black anger churning in his belly. “Sloan isn’t here.”

“He takes my advice, and you’d better take mine. You’re like a man walking down the middle of Broadway on a Saturday night, thinking he’ll never get hit. It’s a very dangerous way to live, brother.”

“If you want to discuss my life, that’s fine with me. But let Gemma go. This doesn’t concern her.”

“Oh, but it does.” Ivar glanced toward the wolves, who continued to pace around Allegra and Gemma. “It has everything to do with her.”

“If it’s a fight you want, Ivar, I’ll be happy to give it to you.”

“And bring the whole pack down on your head? I think you’d rather listen to what I have to say.” Ivar withdrew a silver case from his pocket and selected a cigarette. “You’ve been out looking for Gemma all night, haven’t you? She slipped her leash and got all the way to Fifty-second Street before you even knew she was gone.” He put the cigarette in his mouth and produced a lighter. “Some of us picked up her scent and followed her to Lulu’s.We sawhowyour sisterwalked right into the place as if she had nothing to hide.” He sucked on the cigarette. “Very bad form, Durant.”

Griffin clenched his fists, sickened by the thought that the pack had found Gemma before he did. “Gemma didn’t do any harm.”

“But she could have.” Ivar blew a curl of smoke toward Griffin, smacking his lips. “All she had to do was reveal her strength or speed or one of our other useful talents, and someone might begin to ask questions. The kinds of questions we don’t like.”

Despite Ivar’s bluster, the threat he represented was very real. Griffin fought to subdue his rage. “It won’t happen again,” he said.

“On your word of honor?” Ivar chuckled. “Maybe that’s not good enough anymore. If you can’t control your own kin, maybe it’s time someone else did it for you.”

Gemma fought Allegra’s hold. “I can speak for myself,” she said, facing Ivar with naive courage. “It’s my fault, not Griffin’s.”

Ivar looked her up and down with an open leer. “You want to save your brother a lot of trouble? Come with us right now. We’ll take good care of you.”

Griffin snarled. “Get back, Gemma.”

“But, Grif—”

“Back.” He bared his teeth at Ivar. “You think you can take her, you slinking jackal?”

“I’ll take her, all right. And she’ll beg for more.”

For an instant Griffin stood poised between man and beast, the man begging him to remember all his fears for Gemma, his solemn vows to civilization and peace. But the beast was aroused and would not be denied. He removed his tie, kicked off his shoes, shed his shirt and trousers and tossed them aside.

“Go ahead,” he taunted. “I’m waiting, bellyscraper.”

Ivar’s eyes narrowed in fury. He lifted a hand. “Tibor. Caleb.”

The wolves answered to their names, closing in on Allegra and Gemma. Griffin Changed, spun around and raced toward them. The larger of the two pack members faced him with tail high and ears flat, ready to spring. Griffin charged. He caught Caleb’s thick mane in his jaws and twisted hard, forcing his opponent to the pavement. With sheer strength he held Caleb down, enduring the furious scrape of nails that sliced through his fur. Fangs snapped within inches of his face. He didn’t flinch, staring into Caleb’s yellow eyes until the loup-garou’s struggles slowed and finally ceased. Caleb whined and licked Griffin’s chin, going limp in Griffin’s grip.

He released Caleb and turned to face the smaller beast, preparing himself for another fight. Tibor turned his head from side to side, tucked his tail between his legs and stretched his mouth in a grimace of submission. Griffin quickly Changed again and hurried to join Allegra and Gemma.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Why shouldn’t we be?” Allegra said. “You did all the fighting.” She looked him over, keen interest in her eyes, and Griffin was suddenly very much aware of his nudity. Far worse, however, was his shame at what he had been forced to do. He left Allegra with Gemma and returned to Ivar, who had thrown his cigarette into the street and looked seconds away from Changing himself.

“Very impressive,” he said. “You’ve made your point, Durant, but don’t think you did yourself any favors.Your deal with the pack can be canceled anytime. The minute your lone wolf act becomes a threat to us, it’s over.”

“And the minute that happens,” Griffin said, “the moment anything happens to Gemma or me, the generous remittance the pack receives from my estate will dry up forever.”

The toe of Ivar’s highly polished shoe struck the discarded cigarette, sending it rolling across the street. “I came here to warn you, Durant. Next time you won’t get off quite so easy.” He turned on his heel, striding away until his silhouette was swallowed up in darkness. The wolves loped after him, their bodies low to the ground.

Griffin closed his eyes and felt the tension drain out of his muscles. He’d bluffed his way through this time, but things could easily have gone the other way. He could have killed in defense of the ones he loved.

The ones he loved. He shivered at the slip, gathered his wits and looked for his clothes.

Allegra already had them in her arms, an ambiguous smile curving her lips. “Very impressive,” she said, her gaze lingering a little too long on the area below his waist. “I’ve never seen one of your kind Change before.”

The wolf was still very close to the surface. Griffin snatched his trousers away before his body could betray him.

“You really don’t like fighting, do you?” she asked quietly.

His fingers fumbled at the buttons. “No.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He ignored her and pulled on his shirt. She placed both hands on his chest before he could fasten the shirt.

“No wounds,” she said.

His breath came faster. “The Change heals them.”

“We heal fast, too. Something you and I actually have in common.”

He pushed her hands aside and buttoned his shirt. “Gemma…”

His sister slunk toward him, her head low. “I’m so sorry, Grif,” she said. “It’s all my fault.”

“I’m glad you recognize that actions have consequences.” He took her face between his hands. “Now you see why we can’t trust the pack. Why we can’t give in to our other side.”

“But you had to do it. Allie’s right. There was nothing wrong with—”

“There is nothing romantic in becoming a beast, Gemma.” He lowered his voice. “You must promise me never to come to Manhattan again.”

“Oh, lay off,” Allegra said. “You can give her the lecture after she’s had a good day’s sleep.”

Griffin let Gemma go and faced Allegra. “Miss Chase, your interference is—” He stopped, clearing his throat. “It seems I owe you another debt of gratitude.”

“I don’t remember doing anything to be grateful for. The least you could have done was let me handle that idiot Ivar.”

“And risk sparking an all-out war between vampires and werewolves? The truce is fragile enough as it is.”

“That’s just an excuse. You really wanted to make sure we helpless females were kept out of harm’s way.”

“If that was my intent,” he said grimly, “I failed.”

“If you’d only teach me how to fight,” Gemma broke in, “I could help you next time. You wouldn’t have to protect me.”

“There won’t be a next time.” Griffin took her firmly by the shoulder, eager to forget what had happened. “Miss Chase, my driver is waiting a few blocks away. The least I can do is take you home…unless you would prefer to return to the club.”

Allie shrugged. “My friends will have cleared out by now.”

“Then we should hurry. It’s nearly dawn.”

Allie glanced at the sky. She had lost track of the time…an easy thing to do when she had no schedules to keep or responsibilities to tie her down. Griffin had provided certain other distractions, as well. He naturally believed that she was as vulnerable to daylight as any other strigoi, and she didn’t see any reason to let him in on the secret. Not yet.

“I’ll take the lift,” she said.

Griffin nodded, firmly gripped Gemma’s hand and set off again. They had gone another couple of blocks when they were accosted once more, this time by a thin young man with earnest features and wavy blond hair.

“Grif!” he said. “Thank God you found her. I’d finished searching the—” He broke off, his gaze settling on Allie. “Allegra?” he said. “Allegra Chase?”

Allie stepped forward. “Mal,” she said. “It’s been a long time.”

Griffin looked from her to Mal and back again. “You know each other?”

“Mal used to frequent some of the same clubs as my friends and I,” Allie said. “Sometimes he and—” She caught herself, remembering that there were some topics it was wiser not to mention. “We saw quite a bit of each other.”

“The good old days,” Mal said with a cheerless smile. “How’ve you been, Allie?”

“Grand, thanks.” She didn’t ask Mal how he was; one look at him told her all she needed to know. “I didn’t realize you knew Mr. Durant.”

“It never occurred to me to mention it. Your world and Griffin’s…they always seemed miles apart.”

That, Allie thought, was an understatement. “Funny how these things happen,” she said. “Mr. Durant and I met by chance a few days ago, and then Gemma showed up at Lulu’s tonight.”

Mal raised a brow. “What was Gemma doing at Lulu’s?”

“Biting off more than she could chew,” Griffin said. “Miss Chase intervened when one of the patrons accosted her.”

“I’m not surprised. Allie likes to pretend she’s a world-weary cynic, but she’s not nearly as hard-boiled as she makes out.”

“You’re going to ruin my reputation,” Allie said, then looked pointedly toward the eastern horizon. “We’d better keep going, don’t you think?” she asked Griffin.

“Of course. You’re welcome to return with us to Oakdene, Mal. Stay for a few days if you like. Gemma’s birthday party is on Saturday—”

“You mean, you’re still going to have the party?” Gemma asked. “Even though…even after what happened tonight?”

“If you give your word not to come to Manhattan alone,” Griffin said, “I’ll consider tonight’s folly to be an isolated lapse of judgment.”

Gemma nodded, but her expression didn’t suggest any particular pleasure at Griffin’s leniency. Allie could imagine what such a party might be like if Griffin had the planning of it.

And no wonder. Griffin’s so afraid of the wolf part of himself that he goes too far in the other direction.

Allie had never heard that werewolves were intrinsically more violent than humans—or vampires, for that matter—but in Griffin’s case, it was as if he would prefer to deny his inhuman nature entirely, as he seemed bent on denying Gemma’s. Being old-fashioned and forcing his sister to associate only with humans lets him convince himself that his “civilized” side is in control. Conservative, safe, hemmed about by rules and traditions.

Still, he’d proven again tonight that he was willing to get rough when the situation demanded it…and Allie couldn’t help but feel that the wolf was much closer to the surface than hewould ever admit.Nowthat she’d seen Griffin in action, she’d begun to grasp what it must feel like to turn into an animal. If it had happened to her, she wouldn’t be afraid. So much power, beauty and strength…

None of which he was willing to accept as the gift it was.

What would it take to teach you to glory in what you are, the senses and the speed and the freedom?

Allie laughed. That sort of project seemed far too much work for anyone but the most devoted martyr. And anyway, why should she care? She’d tried to get rid of Durant at their first meeting by warning him that his attraction to her wasn’t real. That should have been that.

But it wasn’t. The joke was on her. She’d thought she would be able to forget about him. She hadn’t been, although it seemed he’d taken her advice very much to heart. He certainly hadn’t done much to encourage their further acquaintance. He was able to resist her, and that was a new and not entirely pleasant experience.

So, Allie Chase. What are you going to do about it? It’s been a long time since you’ve had a real challenge.

They began to walk again. The smells of morning crept into the city air: baking bread; stale seawater from the docks; exhaust from milk and produce trucks making their first deliveries of the day. Men and women staggered, laughing, from hidden doorways as they ended their night’s revels and prepared to retire to their comfortable beds on the Gold Coast. Longshoremen yawned as they left their tenements for a day’s work at the docks. Ragged boys lingered on street corners hoping to gain employment, legal or otherwise, for a few hours or a day. Gunsels on mysterious errands patrolled the sidewalk, their coat collars turned up about their ears, and bootleggers’ vehicles idled in alleyways.

This was Allie’s world—more than the cold, beautiful mansions owned by Raoul and his most favored vassals, far more than the gilded, exclusive milieu of the Hamptons. It was, as Mal had said, miles away from anything Griffin Durant judged desirable for himself or his sister.

“Here we are,” Griffin said, interrupting Allie’s reflections. He indicated a handsome limousine, whose uniformed driver stood beside the passenger door awaiting his employer’s instructions.

“Ladies,” Griffin said, gesturing Gemma and Allie into the backseat.Gemmaclimbed in first.Allie slid onto the seat beside her, not bothering to adjust the hem of her dress when it inched well above her knee. She knew Griffin noticed; he stared for a dozen heartbeats, then hastily looked away. Mal joined her and Gemma in the rear, while Griffin took a seat beside his driver in the front.

Whatever Griffin might think of certain parts of Manhattan, he employed a driver with an obvious talent for finding the most direct routes through the city. They stopped first at a street off Washington Square, where Mal took his leave and promised to attend Gemma’s party. In a remarkably short time—just as the first streaks of sunlight were beginning to sift among the buildings—the limousine pulled up in front of Allie’s apartment.

Griffin jumped out and asked Gemma for the return of his overcoat. He removed his hat and offered it and the coat to Allie as he helped her from the car.

“The fit is hardly ideal,” he said, “but they should provide adequate protection for a few moments.”

She placed the overlarge hat on her head and wrapped the coat around herself, enveloped in Griffin’s masculine, earthy scent.

“Can she come to my party?” Gemma said, leaning out of the car. “Please, Grif. I promise I’ll behave.”

Griffin looked as if he’d been cold-cocked by an invisible fist. He stared past Allie’s shoulder, muscles flexing under the skin of his jaw.

“Doubtless a woman of experience like Miss Chase would find a Long Island party extremely uninteresting,” he said.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Allie said. “After all, you’d be there. What more fascinating entertainment could a girl ask for?”

He cast her a dark glance. “In that case,” he said flatly, “we would be pleased if you would join us.”

Allie performed a mocking curtsy. “I would be delighted to accept your generous invitation, kind sir.”

Griffin bowed like a heel-clicking aristocrat out of a moving picture. “May I escort you to your door, Miss Chase?” He offered his arm, and Allie accepted it. The night doorman, about ready to surrender his duties to his daytime counterpart, hardly blinked at her masculine attire.

Griffin accompanied her into the lobby and stopped beside the elevator. “I…hope the night’s events have not proven too troubling for you, Miss Chase,” he said.

“Troubling? Because of Ivar? Or because I saw you turn into a wolf?”

“I regret that you were compelled to witness such unpleasantness.”

“I’ve seen plenty of that on the vampire side of things.”

“I’m sorry to hear it.”

“You are, aren’t you?” She removed the hat and twirled it around on the tip of her finger. “Do you really think I’ll go wild and attack all your boring human friends?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“At the party. Is it because of Gemma that you don’t want me there, or because I’m a leech?”

If he was taken aback by her bluntness, he managed to hide it. “You obviously have excellent control over your…needs, Miss Chase.”

“At least you must admire that quality in me.” She chuckled at his expression. “We don’t exactly go around assaulting humans in public places. If we were that indiscreet, we’d hardly survive in a human world…any more than your kind would if you changed shape in the middle of Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.”

He flushed and glanced at his shoes. “I apologize. My personal experience of vampire behavior is somewhat limited.”

“And what knowledge you do have is tainted by prejudice.”

“You’ve expressed some pride in being unlike other vampires, Miss Chase.”

“You just said you didn’t know much about vampires. Anyway, I didn’t say I approve of everything my fellow strigoi do. I don’t take responsibility for them, only myself.”

A glimmer of some emotion she couldn’t identify flickered in Griffin’s eyes. “In that case, perhaps we should call a truce.”

“I’m all for that, bub.”

His shoulders relaxed as if he’d just released an intolerable burden. “The party will be held out of doors, in the afternoon…but you may certainly remain inside the house without attracting undo attention. If you dress for travel in daylight, I’ll send Fitzsimmons to collect you on Saturday at 1:00 p.m.”

“That’s most convenient, thank you.” She touched her finger to his chin. “Very gallant of you to worry so much about my safety.”

“You didn’t seem to welcome it before.”

“Maybe I changed my mind.”

“Why do I find it difficult to believe you?”

“You mean, you still don’t trust me, after all we’ve been through together?”

He looked away. “Miss Chase—”

“Don’t you think we should be on a first-name basis by now…Griffin?” She reached up and set his hat on his head, remaining on tiptoe so that her face was very close to his. “Say my name,” she whispered. “Say it.”

“Miss—”

“Why are you so afraid of a little word?”

His gaze met hers, embarrassed and angry. “Allegra.”

“My friends call me Allie.”

He stepped back abruptly, looking for all the world like a man who had nearly tumbled over a precipice. “I must take my sister home,” he said. “Saturday, Miss Chase.”

“I’ll be there.” She tossed him the coat and laughed as the elevator doors opened.

He hesitated, pulled his hat lower on his head and strode briskly toward the door. Allie stepped into the elevator as the attendant gaped at her sleepily.

“He should know by now that he’s no match for Allie Chase,” she said to the boy.

He grinned at the bills she pressed into his hand. “Yes, ma’am!”

Chapter Five

“I HOPE YOU LIKE IT,” Griffin said, presenting the beribboned box to Gemma.

She examined the box with excitement she did her best to conceal, convinced—as were so many girls her age—that any outward sign of enthusiasm would betray a lingering attachment to childish things. She untied the ribbons with deliberate slowness, then slipped them off the box and laid them in a neat pile on the sofa. Her eyes sparkled as she lifted the lid.

“Oh,” she whispered, stroking the soft yellow georgette with her fingertips. Abruptly she removed the dress from the box and stood, letting the silk tumble down over her body.

There was a moment of silence as Gemma examined the gift. The moment stretched far too long, and even before she looked up Griffin knew she was disappointed.

“It’s lovely, Grif,” she said, smiling with only a hint of strain. “The silk is…lovely. And the color…” She smoothed the long skirt over her legs. “Shall I wear it to the party?”

He returned her smile, knowing how embarrassed she would be if she suspected that he’d seen through her pretense. “That’s your decision,” he said.

She folded the dress, replaced it in the box and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “Of course I’ll wear it,” she said. “In fact, I think I’ll go upstairs and try it on right now.”

“By all means,” Griffin said. “You have plenty of time before the first guests arrive.”

With a brief, self-conscious move, she touched her short hair. “Griffin, do you think—” She shook her head, gathered up the box and headed for the staircase.

Griffin rose from his chair. “Gemma…”

She paused at the foot of the stairs. “Yes, Grif?”

“I hope you understand why I don’t want you to go into Manhattan alone.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor. “Sure. I understand.”

“Members of the pack believe in their absolute right to behave like animals when it suits them. I will not have that become your fate.”

“It’s not as if they go around killing people.”

“But the temptation is always there.”

Gemma pushed the toe of her foot against the carpet runner and sighed. “If you say so, Grif.”

“I do.” He waved his hand. “That’s all. Go and change.”

She ascended the stairs with elaborate dignity, leaving Griffin to stare after her with sadness and frustration. Only recently had Gemma taken up the idea that she had to radically change in order to claim her adulthood. She lacked a mother who could give her the counsel he wasn’t equipped to provide…who could explain that the sort of dress she might have liked to wear on her birthday would not be in the least appropriate.

He walked to the window, looking out at the preparations Starke and Brenda, the maid, were making for the party. The lawn was a vivid green, the formal garden was in bloom and the weather could not have been more perfect. Soon the limousines would begin to arrive, spilling out the socially desirable young men and women who would be Gemma’s peers when she married. Their parents had also been invited, though Griffin didn’t expect many of the fathers to put in an appearance. They weren’t the ones who generally made the crucial decisions about marital alliances.