Come the Night. Susan Krinard

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      After that, Gillian had told him all about the werewolves in Europe. They were trying to save the werewolf race from extinction, she’d explained. The number of loups-garous in the world was rapidly shrinking; they had to live secretly among humans, constantly fearing exposure. Ancient European families had been working tirelessly to preserve the pure werewolf bloodlines and unique gifts.

      Ross had listened, strangely uncomfortable with the driven, almost mechanical way Gillian spoke of the Europeans’ efforts. She’d recited the information almost like a schoolgirl who’d learned her lessons by rote; the passionate, animated woman Ross had discovered beneath her aristocratic veneer seeming to vanish.

      But then she’d self-consciously asked him to make love to her, and he’d forgotten the things that had troubled him. Their joining had been like a miracle, a gift Ross knew he didn’t deserve. He’d finally admitted that he was of werewolf blood. She’d laughed, her eyes filled with happiness and relief. Ross had believed that his dreams were about to come true.

      Until she’d asked him to run as a wolf beside her, and he’d had to tell her that he couldn’t do it, that his mother was human and his father only half-werewolf. He hadn’t noticed then how quiet she’d become. He’d been certain, in spite of what she’d said about the European devotion to werewolf purity, that it couldn’t possibly matter. They loved each other. And he wanted her to marry him.

      There had been no explanations, no warning. Gillian simply never showed up at their next planned rendezvous. She’d left her work at the hospital and disappeared without a word. And in his shock, Ross had remembered what he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge: the look in her eyes when he’d told her he couldn’t Change.

      The look of a princess who’d just been told that her knight in shining armor was nothing but a crippled beggar after all.

      A sharp movement jostled Ross out of the past. The car had made another turn and was descending into a new tableau, this one depicting the Grand Canyon. He looked at Gillian; she was gazing at the diorama with her lips slightly parted and an almost childlike expression of wonder on her face, as if she’d completely forgotten that Ross was there.

      “Why didn’t you remarry?” he asked.

      She started and clutched at the car’s railing as if she expected to be pitched out onto the ground. “I…beg your pardon?”

      “Delvaux died before Toby was born. Why didn’t you find Toby another father?”

      It was a stupid thing to ask. Ross knew he wasn’t thinking clearly, hadn’t been since Gillian had stepped out of the limousine.

      He dug the hole a little deeper. “There must have been other acceptable candidates, even after the War,” he said. “Or did you run out of all the pure-blooded types in your part of the world?”

      She turned toward him, her hair bleached white by the harsh overhead lights. “I had no desire to marry again.”

      “Delvaux was that great, huh? You just couldn’t let go of his memory?”

      Damn and double-damn. Now he’d given her reason to think he could be jealous, when he felt nothing of the kind. But Gillian didn’t offer the cutting reply he’d expected. She sighed and leaned back in her seat, the wonders of the Dragon’s Gorge forgotten.

      “My time with Jacques was short,” she said. “He would not have wished me to grieve unduly.”

      Ross’s heart lurched and slowly resumed its regular rhythm. She didn’t love him. Not any more than she loved me.

      “But you still didn’t think Toby needed a man in his life,” he said.

      “What makes you think he didn’t have one?”

      Touché. Just because Gillian hadn’t married again didn’t mean she couldn’t have had a whole string of lovers. Her coolness hadn’t kept plenty of wounded soldiers from falling in love with her, though she’d given none of them a second glance.

      They’d all been human, of course. But she’d thought Ross was human up until the time they’d made love, and that hadn’t stopped her.

      “Is it Warbrick?” he asked in a bored tone.

      “What?”

      “Toby said Warbrick wanted to marry you. Or was it something more casual?”

      Gillian might have been an excellent actress, but her discomposure seemed genuine. “There is nothing between…Children, as you know, have vivid imaginations. Ethan has been a good friend to Toby.”

      “That must be why he begged me not to let Warbrick find him.”

      “Toby knew that what he’d done was wrong and was hoping to avoid the consequences.”

      “Was Warbrick likely to punish him? Isn’t that your job?”

      Gillian didn’t seem to hear the second part of his question. “He is a good man,” she said quietly.

      “Sure. But he’s got one serious flaw. He can’t Change.”

       CHAPTER FIVE

      ROSS KNEW HE’D gone too far, said out loud things he hadn’t meant to bring up in Gillian’s presence. But now it was done, and she had nothing to say. They rode on in silence until the car reentered the vast, openmouthed cave where the ride had begun and descended to the platform, where Toby was waiting for them.

      “That was capital!” Toby exclaimed, his gaze darting from Gillian to Ross and back again. “You weren’t afraid, Mother?”

      She managed a smile for him, excluding Ross. “Not in the least. I found it quite delightful.”

      Toby gave Ross a pointed look, as if he were trying to convey some secret message. Ross found himself at a loss, and Toby turned away.

      “May we try the Aerial Swing?” he asked.

      They made their way to the Aerial Swing, which consisted of four large gondolas suspended from the ends of crossbeams projecting from a tall, narrow tower. The crossbeams rotated around the tower as they moved up and down, swinging the gondolas in a wide circle far above the earth.

      This time Gillian maneuvered herself so that she and Toby shared the same seat and Ross was relegated to the one behind them, wedged in next to a portly gentleman with a very red face. The man giggled during the entire ride. Ross was deeply grateful when it was over.

      Gillian was a little gray when she stepped out of the gondola, but she didn’t complain.

      “I suggest we head for Steeplechase Park,” Ross said. “They opened the Thunderbolt roller coaster there two years ago. It’s the tallest one on Coney Island, famous all over the world.”

      He half expected Gillian to balk, but she allowed him to usher her and Toby across the esplanade and through a knot of parkgoers clustered around the carousel. “We can grab one of the streetcars on Surf Avenue,” he said.

      Gillian maintained her silence, absorbed in her own thoughts, СКАЧАТЬ