the girls. “Can they swim?”
Her heart sinking, Megan shook her head.
“Then I’m not risking it. Our chances are better riding it out here. You’re safe for now. The storm is barely a hurricane and we’ll not take the full brunt. Just some high winds and rain, and the houses are on concrete stilts to protect against tidal surges. We have propane generators and food.”
Oh, this was so not what she wanted to hear. They needed to leave. But he was right. It would have to wait until the storm passed.
He frowned at her bleeding hand. “That needs cleaning.”
Gabriel led Megan over to the sink. From one of the drawers he pulled out a bottle of peroxide and bag of cotton. He wet a large cotton ball and began gently wiping her hand. The laceration wasn’t deep, but it stung. She ignored the pain, staring out the window. Clouds scuttled across the sky, blotching out the sun. No way off the island now. Emotions squeezed her insides, but she refused to surrender to fear.
Their earlier trepidation vanished, Jenny and Jillian roved through the spacious bathroom. Jillian spotted the faded yellow rubber duck Megan had left half-hidden by a towel. Her eager hands grabbed the toy.
“Look, Megan!”
Gabriel turned. His gaze darkened and he dropped the bloodied cotton ball. In two strides he was at Jillian’s side. She cried out as he snatched the duck.
The fierce Enforcer threw the toy into the drawer and slammed it shut. His dark brows knit together. “You don’t touch that again. Ever. Understand?”
The low, dangerous tone of his voice made Jillian’s mouth tremble. She backed away, her blue eyes wide.
A protective streak rose in Megan as she stepped before Jillian, facing Gabriel. “Leave her alone. It’s just a toy. What’s the big deal?”
A dark fury etched his face. “It’s not hers and she shouldn’t touch it. No one ever touches it.”
Dread curled in her stomach. “Who does it belong to?”
His jaw ground violently. “My niece Amelia.” Now his furious gaze held hers. Amber eyes. Wolf eyes. “She was a Shadow, just like you.”
Megan’s heart thundered in her chest. She cradled her injured hand. Clouds darkening the sky cast his face into shadow. Didn’t want to know, had to ask. Had to know …
“Was?” she whispered. “What happened to her?”
Gabriel’s jaw tensed to granite. “I killed her.”
Chapter 4
Last one.
Wind kicked up sand eddies, swirling on the ground. Gabriel lifted a heavy metal shutter, hooked it into place over the window and attached it.
He’d changed into shorts and a white muscle shirt for the arduous task of shuttering his vacation home. Sweat dripped down his temples. Gabriel swiped his damp brow with the back of one hand. His home now resembled a ghost house, the shutters reflecting the remaining rays of the late afternoon sun.
Megan and the twins were in the guest cottage on the bayside, where they all would ride out the storm. It was the safest house on the island. Gabriel needed to be alone for now, away from the horror in their eyes, the alarm shadowing their faces. Fear was good for them. Let them think he was as nasty as his reputation.
The thought sickened him.
He sagged against the shutter, feeling sun-warmed steel heat his skin. Closing his eyes, he saw Amelia’s trusting face as he stood in the pool with her favorite bath toy as incentive for learning to swim. Heard her squeals of laughter as she finished splashing toward him, then grabbed the yellow rubber duck in her small fist.
“I got it, Uncle Gabriel! I’m like Ducky, I can swim now!” she’d yelled.
He’d laughed and swung her up in his arms, as Simone and Alex watched proudly.
The duck.
The yellow duck.
That damn … duck!
He hurled the hammer at the sand. Amelia deserved much better. Learning how to swim in the deep end, first dance, first kiss …
Thanks to him, she’d have none of that. She was only ten years old.
I’m sorry.
Gabriel fisted his trembling hands. The approaching hurricane echoed his turbulent emotions. Warmth spread through his body. Wolf clawed to the surface, stirred up by guilt, anger and self-loathing. Plucking at his shirt, he felt as if hundreds of ants crawled over his skin. He rubbed his chin, alarmed to find thick stubble. Gray fur replaced the light hairs dusting the back of his hands.
The first physical manifestation of his Change.
It had grown more powerful since Raphael’s mate had infused him with power during a vicious Morph fight. His sister-in-law Emily’s touch had heightened his Draicon’s magick. It had tripled Gabriel’s powers, but also made his wolf more ferocious.
The hell with it. He allowed the wolf to flow through him. Muscles rippled and stretched, bones lengthened. He snarled at the elements, feeling the primitive need to rip and tear and destroy.
The sweet vanilla scent of childhood halted the process.
Gabriel stiffened, fisting his hands/paws. Acute senses warned that a twin stood behind him on the deck. His human side wrestled for control. Even though the wolf would never hurt an innocent, he could not allow a young one to witness his transformation.
“Mr. Gabriel?”
“Go away, Jillian.” His voice was a low whiplash, hinting of danger.
“Are you still mad at me?”
Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply.
“I’m sorry I touched your toy, Mr. Gabriel.”
“I’m not mad at you, Jillian.”
He managed to corral the violent emotions. Gabriel studied his hands, relieved to see they were normal. The wolf was gone. For now.
“You can call me Jilly. Everyone does.”
He turned, wondering if this young one would know how close she’d danced to the knife’s edge of violence.
“I’m not afraid of you.” A frown dented her brow. “I’m worried about you. You hurt.”
At his blank stare, she rubbed her thin chest. “In here.”
Tension knotted the spot she’d indicated. “I’m fine,” he lied.
“No, you’re not,” she said seriously. “I can tell. I can feel inside you. You don’t want anyone to know because you don’t like what happens when you feel this way.”
Merde, a seven-year-old could tell? Gabriel retrieved the hammer. As he brushed it free of sand, he glanced at the solemn girl examining the inside of his canvas tool bag.
“You can feel inside me?”
She nodded. Seldom had he used his enormous powers of mind control to delve into a child’s thoughts. Children were innocent and their motivations and thought patterns as clear as shiny glass. They were easy to read, but he hated having to do it.
He motioned to the steps, and when she’d sat beside him, he turned the hammer over in his hand. “Can you read other people’s thoughts?”
Jillian gave him a guileless look. “Only if they allow me to, or if they’re so loud they’re screaming at me. Like they’re yelling out loud, but they’re not. Gram taught me not to be rude and invade their minds.”
In a ladylike gesture, she folded her hands in her lap. “I tried once, when my friend Andrea bragged her hair was prettier than mine. I went into her mind