Wolf Omega: Lykanos Chronicles 2
Chapter Sixty-Five

“You led me on quite a journey,” Duccio said, tipping his hat.

He turned back to his taxi driver and nodded that the man could leave.

I stepped back, inviting Duccio inside, and allowed him to give me a kiss on the cheek as he crossed my threshold. It was quick, and I drew away before he might take advantage of the gesture.

“I’m afraid America’s a large place,” I smirked. “And once you’ve passed Oklahoma, you might as well keep going until you reach the Pacific Coast.”

“So, it would seem,” he answered.

Duccio removed his coat and turned to recognize no one was there to take it from him.

I reached to receive it and walked to the small closet by the stairs to hang it.

“I’m afraid Henry is no longer with me.”

“Oh?”

“To my sadness, it was finally his time.”

“My condolences. I know how much you cared for him.”

“Thank you,” I nodded. “Won’t you come in to make yourself comfortable?”

I extended my hand to show the way toward my drawing-room.

He walked through, casually taking stock of the house before settling on a winged-back chair covered in emerald green silk by the fireplace. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“May I bring you coffee?”

“That’s gracious, but I’ve already had mine for the morning. Thank you.”

I took a seat on the champagne-velvet sofa opposite his chair. Only the wide, Chinoiserie mirrored coffee table, reverse painted with white camellias, separated us.

“So, how have you been?” I asked with a light smile. “Thirty years is nothing to sniff at. It’s wonderful to see you’re still well.”

“I feel well,” he answered. “I’ve done some traveling of my own, but I’ve spent it mostly in New York, and you know how that goes.”

“The center of the world, yes. I’ll admit I don’t miss all of that noise.”

“No? You prefer this quiet wilderness? I suppose it’s as far away from New York as you can get.”

“Yes, as far away as possible,” I laughed lightly. “This peaceful pace is entirely my style. I lived in the metropolitan giants north of here for a time, but they didn’t suit me. Too much—always too much. But then I stumbled upon this charming haven on holiday, and ever since, I’ve been in love with it.”

“You never thought I might want to join you?”

“It never occurred to me. You’re so fond of your big city life and your parade of helpless women… I never bothered to send a telegram. Was that wrong of me?”

“It was inconsiderate, anyhow. I’ll admit I never looked for you, as you requested, but it disappointed me to hear nothing of your well-being.”

“You never looked for me? Do I misunderstand the reason for your being here? Was it by a happy accident that you stumbled upon me?”

“I received a phone call from Henry two weeks ago.”

My eyes darkened at his statement.

“He placed a collect call to my house in New York, but the line disconnected before I could speak with him. Luckily, the operator had announced a Mr. Henry Jackson was calling from San Diego when she requested to reverse the charges.”

I scoured my memory to think of what I’d been doing two weeks ago that could’ve distracted me from such an act. I’d been in Los Angeles comforting Eleanor at her husband’s funeral, an event my own bloodlust has created. I hadn’t brought Henry with me, as he didn’t want to drive us, and I was comfortable traveling alone on the train. I could only guess at his purpose in contacting Duccio, but it was another betrayal to account for, and I could only be disappointed again by his judgment.

“It surprised me to receive the call. But I’m even more surprised to find him not here with you. When you said it was ‘his time,’ did you mean that he’s died?

“Yes,” I acknowledge dryly.

“Was it his age that called his time? Or did you decide he was done for this world?”

“I decided.”

“I see,” he rose his eyebrows. Duccio seemed honestly surprised. “Whatever could’ve led you to part with your dear butler? Was he ill?”

“In a way. He’d become confused by his priorities.”

“Confused? That’s quite a heavy price to pay for simple confusion, isn’t it? Whatever was so terrible to warrant his execution?”

“Betrayal,” I sighed. “He made the mistake of betraying me.”

“Not by placing that call to me, I hope.”

“No, I was unaware of that specific betrayal. But I suspect I know his reasons for calling you.”

A sound came from upstairs. Daniel had rolled over in bed.

Duccio looked up at the ceiling and then back at me in mock surprise.

“Surely, not. He didn’t call me over your taking a lover, did he? Oh, Gabriella. After all the women I’ve enjoyed during our marriage… Now, I feel horrible.”

He gave a full-throated laugh and uncrossed his legs to lean forward.

That he would suggest anything akin to marriage between us proved to be the most insulting thing he’d ever said to me. Even in jest, my patience struggled to account for the statement.

Duccio’s insulting laughter had carried upstairs. I felt Daniel wake, and we both heard him rise from bed.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’ve woken him. Though, I’m quite surprised he’s here. I remember your anger over such matters. Should I understand and accept that you’ve spent your time away having your needs met?”

“Perhaps,” I offered a stoic smile.

His laughter settled to a bemused shake of his head. I couldn’t sense if he was sincerely angry—if his amusement was only a vain deception—and he intended to dispatch my guest with violence. Then I thought he perhaps didn’t care. But in a moment, and to my private delight, his face darkened.

Tightening his eyes, Duccio slowly looked up before turning back to me with undisguised anger.

“What have you done?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

He knew it wasn’t some mortal I’d taken to my bed. He sensed it was a lycan who dressed and moved to come downstairs.

“You’ve misunderstood my patience,” he warned me.

“Have I? Perhaps you’ve misunderstood mine?”

“You can’t tell me I haven’t made this clear to you before now. I will not tolerate this. How many more will you have me send to their grave?”

Duccio rose from his seat to stand at attention as Daniel descended the stairs in the front hall. He pulled at his tie, preparing undress to do away with his rival at once.

I didn’t move a muscle to stop either man.

“Darling, come in here,” I called. There was no concern in my voice.

When Daniel entered the room, confused and unsure of whose voice had awakened him, I felt a tremor of disbelief pulse from Duccio. It was a palpable disorientation that caused his breath to catch, and I knew he saw his own eyes in Daniel’s face.

“Daniel Archer, this is Thomas Van Duren, your father. I’ve always known him as Duccio, though I’m unsure if that’s how he’d prefer you to address him in America.”

Neither man spoke to the other, but in moments Duccio turned to me with outrage.

“What is this?”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Answer me!”

I answered silently, sending him the images of the night I had confronted Lillian Archer. I sent her eyes, their tears, and the sounds of her weeping—all those moments just after Duccio abandoned her. Her surroundings were hazy in my memory, but her face was unquestionable. From Duccio’s own recollections, I sensed that he knew the room’s details. I let Lillian’s sorrow over Duccio’s departure wash through. His unforgivable refusal to attend to his duty rang loudly now in his ears.

Daniel received the same memories, and he stepped back in disbelief. From my mind, he recognized the face that had stared back at him from the silver picture frame by his bed since he was fourteen years old. He looked to me with confusion, imploring an explanation.

I stood up between them and looked in Daniel’s eyes.

“I didn’t want for you to learn this today,” I vowed to him. “I didn’t believe this man would ever come here. I haven’t seen him since before you were born. I wanted more time to explain what little I know of your mother. But the moment is here now, and so we must have it out in this way.”

Not waiting for a response, I turned to Duccio.

“On the night we parted, I didn’t merely confirm your infidelity from the street. I met Lillian Archer and offered her help. I gave her money so she could endure the fate you’d left her to. I never meant to seek her out--I never wanted to know any of the women you betrayed me with. But I thought if I saw Lillian’s face—if I approached her—it would give me the courage to do what I should’ve done years earlier. It was a selfish choice I made. And when she spoke to me, when she told me how afraid she was to be alone, I was just as disgusted by my selfishness as I was by what you’d done.

“So, I paid for Lillian to remain in the apartment you’d kept her in during your affair. I expected she would miscarry like all the others had, and I wanted her to endure what awaited her with some dignity. I presumed she would carry on with her life afterward, and I never gave her a way to contact me. I wanted to forget her; I wanted to forget everything about it. And when I met Daniel last month, when I eventually realized what must have happened, I understood how unforgivably I’d failed her. And I hated myself for it, just as much as I hated you.”

Duccio said nothing in response but held my gaze.

“Am I lying?” I asked, breaking the silence.

“It would hardly be the first time.”

I sighed with pained impatience. Even after so much had passed between us, I knew I was a fool to expect more from him.

“Very well. I’ve given you my answer. Believe from it what you will. I’ve no further interest in the matter.”

I stepped to the side to clear the way.

“I’m sure you have somewhere else to be. Don’t let me keep you.”

Duccio continued to stare at me, taking measure of my attitude, but then sat back down.

“I think I’ll take that coffee, after all.”

He turned his gaze at Daniel and offered a mocking tone.

“Why not fetch us a cup, Son?”

Daniel exploded with such force that I stumbled backward from the combusted air around him. I had sensed his growing anger while telling my story, but Duccio’s question landed like a match touching gasoline.

“No, Daniel!” I cried, reaching out to steady myself with a side table that offered little help to my falling weight.

Before I uttered the words, he leapt forward and slashed at Duccio’s face. Daniel’s ripped clothes still clang in shards to his body. There was nothing focused or disciplined about the act, but its raw anger landed the cuts with savage precision. Daniel’s move was a pure frenzy, bent on inflicting as much damage as his arms and talons could accomplish.

Duccio hadn’t so much as raised a hand in defense of his face when his dark protector shot an invisible blow to knock Daniel clear across the drawing-room.

The young wolf crashed into the far wall hard enough to splinter the ebony oak paneling. As if he hadn’t felt the blow, Daniel recovered to drive back at Duccio.

The alpha might have expected to fight, but even his dark protector, bursting to attention, struggled to catch up with his doppelgänger’s hate-fulled speed.

Daniel flew into the elder wolf’s chest fast enough to knock him back into the fireplace, shattering the Batchelder tiles against their weight, to carry out another volley of tight slashes. But they marked the end of Daniel’s vengeful advantage as Duccio took him by the throat and sunk his iron talons deep into the fledgling’s chest.

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