Luck of the Wolf

After all their years together, Yuri knew exactly where Cort was most vulnerable to persuasion. Cort hadn’t forgotten a single humiliation, a single curse, a single blow he had suffered at the hands of the New Orleans Reniers. He’d been no more than a temporary amusement for a bored girl in search of adventure, briefly titillated by the prospect of rebellion against her autocratic father.

Because of her—because of all of them—he had transformed himself into the very image of the gentleman Madeleine might have accepted. When he made his fortune and could look her father and brothers in the eye, equal in every way, then he would go back and show Madeleine what she had cast aside.

His fortunes had proven more fickle than he had anticipated, and he had almost given up on the idea of returning. Now he had the opportunity that had eluded him.

And what if she has another family searching for her? He would be robbing her of a life she might have forgotten, but it would still exist, waiting for her return.

There was no earthly reason why he couldn’t make other inquiries, as he’d promised the girl. Such an investigation might take weeks, if not longer. But he could set it in motion immediately, and in the meantime make whatever preparations were necessary to groom her for her role as Lucienne Renier.

Oh, she might resist at first. She certainly had a mind of her own. But more than once he’d seen yearning and sorrow in her eyes, especially when he’d spoken of other loups-garous in San Francisco or speculated about her family. She wanted to belong to someone.

Perhaps he could win that sense of belonging for her as he had never been able to do for himself. And profit in the winning.

“It is a reasonable plan,” he said to Yuri. “But you must contain your eagerness, mon ami. She is like a wild animal who must be coaxed into the cage little by little. We must begin by discovering what she does know. With rest, safety and careful cultivation, whatever she was before may emerge on its own.”

“We can’t keep such a girl hidden long,” Yuri said, “even if Cochrane makes no attempt to steal her back.”

“Then we’ll keep her confined until such time as we can find a safer place to put her.”

Yuri fingered his short beard. “A safer place,” he murmured. “It should be outside the city. Leave it to me.” He nodded to himself. “She will need a complete transformation, and you and I cannot do it alone. I have thought of someone who would be ideal to teach her subjects on which you and I are not qualified to speak.”

“Is that not somewhat premature?” Cort asked.

“Not if we wish to move quickly.”

“Who is this person?”

“An old acquaintance from New Orleans, from a time before you and I met. She is well educated, has excellent taste and is familiar with New Orleans Society.”

“How familiar?”

“She is not loup-garou, but she has had frequent dealings with the leading families in the city. She knows your kind exist.”

“And you trust her?”

“As much as I have ever trusted anyone.”

“How do you expect to pay her? Until I’ve won a few more games, we’ll have barely enough funds to cover the girl’s basic necessities.”

“Babette has fallen on hard times. She is widowed and currently resides in Denver in a state of near poverty. I am certain she will settle for a modest salary and a cut of the reward.”

“How much do you suggest we tell her?” Cort asked.

“She can’t do her job unless she knows as much as possible,” Yuri replied.

“Say nothing of my previous association with Lucienne’s family.”

“Naturally.”

“How long will it take to get Babette here?” he asked.

“I can telegraph her immediately. She could be here in a few days.”

“Then do it.”

“At once.” Yuri examined Cort from under half-closed lids. “You’ll have plenty of time alone with the girl while I’m gone. Are you certain you have no. personal interest in her?”

“My tastes hardly run in that direction,” Cort said with a cynical lift of his brow. “And even if they did, I would not act on them. The girl claims that no one touched her. She may or may not be a virgin, but she must be guarded from anyone’s amorous intentions from now on.”

With a curt nod, Yuri removed a silver case from inside his coat, tapped out a cigarette and left the boardinghouse. Cort felt the uncomfortable weight of the half-truths he’d told Yuri, pretending he’d never felt any physical attraction to the girl.

But the fact that he had felt such attraction in the past hardly meant he couldn’t ignore it in the future. He shifted the packages, returned to their rooms and walked through the door.

The girl was bundled up on the sofa, her chin on her knees, her body taut under the mantle of her deceptive calm. Her nose twitched. Cort set down the packages and bowed.

“Mademoiselle,” he said, “I trust rest and a meal have improved your health.”

She glared at him from under the mane of blond hair that had fallen over her face. “I am very well, Cort.”

“Did you enjoy your visit with Yuri?”

“I don’t like him.”

It surprised Cort that Yuri hadn’t tried to make himself agreeable, given his ambitions. “Perhaps you will like this better,” Cort said. He unwrapped one of the packages to reveal half a ham and another that held a loaf of bread, butter and jam.

The girl’s nose twitched again.

Cort set the food on the table. “You are free to eat as much as you like,” he said.

“I can get my own food.”

“By stealing it? That would be unwise, ma chère.”

“Stop calling me ma chère.”

“As yet you’ve given me no alternative,” he said.

Pretending to ignore his comment, she eyed the other packages. “What are those?” she asked.

“Clothing for you. Proper attire for a lady.” He put one of the boxes on the table and began to untie the ribbon.

“A lady?” she echoed.

Her voice held a note of scorn that surprised him. “Certainly. Is that not what you are, mademoiselle?”

She tucked her chin against her chest. “No. And I don’t want to be one.”

Cort let the half-untied ribbons fall back onto the lid. “I beg your pardon?”