The hunt and the kill; they were what he required, what he must have. He would quiet his impatience another day. Once again he would demonstrate human mastery over the lesser creatures, just as Providence had intended.
Only blood would answer now.
Chapter 11
“What did you think you were doing?”
Hands on hips, Alex stood over Kieran, who sprawled on the sofa in an inebriated haze. “Do you know what could have happened?” she demanded. “You were fighting with Howie and his friends! In a bar, no less!”
Kieran looked at her without expression. “I wasn’t… fighting,” he said. “They—”
“What about Peter?” she asked, pacing furiously across the room. “If it hadn’t been for Mr. Gévaudan, you could have… could have—”
“Hurt him?” he said, grinning crookedly. “Don’t you trust me, Alexandra?”
Words failed her. She spun to face him, wishing she had the strength to haul him up bodily and shake him within an inch of his life.
“Maybe Peter did need your protection,” Kieran drawled.
“I wasn’t trying to protect him.”
“But you went into town to see him.”
Alex passed her hand over her eyes. “I told you I had to talk to him again, to clear things up with him. I told you Peter was none of your concern. I had things under control…”
“Yes, Alexandra,” he said. “You do have… great control.”
Was he mocking her? Could he see how close she was to losing it completely? With an effort she calmed herself, molding her anger into something manageable.
“You thought you were trying to protect me, Kieran,” she said carefully. “I recognize that. But you only made it worse—”
“For Peter,” Kieran said. His grin was like a dull knife, its edge blunted with hard use. Suddenly Alex remembered the stunned look on Peter’s face when he’d sprawled on the street, and felt a highly inappropriate desire to laugh.
“You looked like you could have killed him,” she said severely. “Kieran, you put yourself in danger, and for no reason. I was fully capable of handling Peter on my own. He was part of my past.”
“I know.” Kieran sat up on the sofa, shedding any lingering sluggishness as a wolf shakes water from its pelt. “You almost married him.”
For a moment she was silenced. “Another little tidbit you overheard during my supposedly private conversation with Peter?”
Kieran made a low sound like a choked laugh. “No. Peter told me himself. We had a very nice… talk in the bar.”
Alex started. Talk. He and Peter had talked. “I can’t imagine you and Peter having much to talk about.”
Kieran’s grin showed all his teeth. “You’re right, Alexandra. We don’t have much in common. He’s handsome and rich. Knows who he is. Gets what he wants. But we did find a common interest.” He examined his strong, blunt fingers, so different from Peter’s fine-boned, manicured hand. “He wanted to know if I was willing to help you. He wanted to… make sure I didn’t complicate your life any more, especially since he’d be here to comfort you himself. He made it clear that you wouldn’t need me.”
Alex was very careful not to show any emotion at all. “Peter asked you to leave?”
Kieran looked away.
“And you were ready to do what he wanted you to—walk away—even after you pitched him on his butt in the middle of Merritt?”
There was no humor on Kieran’s face now. “He claimed to love you, Alexandra. The way he shows love is strange to me, but I’m not human. Maybe you can explain it to me.”
Alexandra felt behind her for the armchair and sat down hard. “You’re asking me to make sense of human behavior?” She laughed and hugged herself. “I don’t even understand myself. How’s that for a revelation?”
Kieran looked at her—not mockingly, not distantly, but with that direct stare that made her feel he saw straight through to her soul. “You loved him,” he said softly.
She looked down at her hands. “Yes. I loved him. We grew up together. Our families were close, and both our fathers ran large, successful corporations. The Warringtons and Schaeffers were leading society families in San Francisco. Peter and I… naturally spent a lot of time together.”