whispered again, and picked her up as he had before, and carried her into the rear bedroom and set her on the bed.
He tore the ribbon from her hair. It came down in waves around her - white, streaked with yellow in the light of the nearby lamp.
He could scarcely keep from stripping off her clothes. It seemed an eternity that she struggled with buttons and clips as she peeled them away. Finally she was naked and pink against him, her nipples like petals, and the dark hair between her legs the color of smoke. He covered her mouth with kisses, and heard that deep growl come out of his chest, that animalian growl that a man could never make. He couldn,t stop himself from kissing her all over, on her throat and her breasts and her belly and on the insides of her silky thighs.
He cradled her head in his hands as she ran her fingers over his face, digging deep into the undercoat of soft wolf-fur beneath the long coarser hair.
She was still crying, but in his ears it was like the rain on the windows - like a song.
Chapter Sixteen
WHILE SHE SLEPT, he built up the living room fire. He wasn,t cold, no, not at all, but he wanted the spectacle of it, the flicker against the ceiling and the walls. He wanted the bright blaze itself.
He was standing with one foot on the low hearth when she came into the room.
She,d put on a white flannel nightgown, like the one he,d torn up so greedily the first night. It had thick antique lace at the wrists and around the collar. Little pearl buttons glinted in the dark.
Her hair was brushed and lustrous.
She sat down in the old chair to the left of the fire, and pointed tentatively to the bigger chair, the battered and worn chair to the right, which was large enough for him.
He sat down and gestured for her to come.
She quickly moved to his lap, and he held her shoulders in his right arm and she rested her head on his chest.
"They,re searching for you," she said. "You know that."
"Of course." He still was not used to the depth of this voice or its huskiness. Maybe he was lucky that he had a voice at all.
"You,re not afraid here, alone, in this house?" he asked. "I see that you aren,t. I,m asking why."
"What is there to fear?" she answered. She was speaking confidentially, naturally, her hand playing with the long hair on his shoulder. Gradually her fingers found the nipple amid the hair of his chest. She pinched it.
"Wicked girl!" he whispered. He winced. He gave that low hungry growl again and heard her muted laughter.
"Truly," he said. "I,m afraid for you; I,m afraid for you alone in this house."
"I grew up in this house," she said simply, without drama. "Nothing has ever hurt me in this house." She paused, then said: "You,ve come to me here in this house."
He didn,t answer. He was stroking her hair.
"You,re the one I fear for," she said. "I,ve been sick with fear for you since you left. Even now, I,m afraid that they,ve followed you here, or someone,s seen you...."
"They haven,t followed me," he said. "I would hear them if they were out there. I would pick up their scent."
They were quiet for a while. He was watching the fire.
"I know who you are," he said. "I read your story."
She didn,t answer.
"Everyone today has a story; the world,s an archive. I read about the things that have happened to you."
"Then you have the advantage, as they say," she replied. "Because I do not have the slightest idea who you really are. Or why you came here."
"I don,t know myself at the moment," he said.
"Then you weren,t always what you are now?" she asked.
"No." He laughed under his breath. "Most certainly not." His tongue pressed against his fangs, ran against the silky black liplike tissue around his mouth. He shifted comfortably in the chair, and her weight was like nothing to him.
"You can,t stay here, I mean in the city, I mean here. They,ll find you. The world,s too small now, too controlled. If they catch the slightest hint that you,re in the forest, they,ll swarm over it. It only looks like a wilderness. It,s not."
"I know that," he said. "I know that very well."
"But you take risks, terrible risks."
"I hear voices," he said. "I hear voices and I go to them. It,s as if I