The Wolf Siren. Karen Whiddon

Kane had shown up and she’d learned she’d have to travel.

      Among the many things she was working on was trying to blur her memory of the years of her captivity. Sometimes, she held out hope that she could be successful, but then the dreams would come and she’d wake panicked, believing herself to be still shackled to a bed, a helpless prisoner while nameless people shoved needles into her or hooked her up to machines that brought nothing but pain.

      At such times, she’d learned the trick of leaving her body, a sort of disassociation that allowed her to travel far, far away. It was this ability, she now knew, that had enabled her to hang on to the last shreds of her sanity.

      Had this been a good thing? Often, she found herself wondering. She certainly hadn’t expected life after captivity to be so painful. Sometimes she thought life might have been easier if she was mindless and drooling.

      Pushing aside her dark thoughts, she wondered what the followers of Jacob Gideon and his church of Sanctuary found so valuable about her that would make them continue to hunt her. As far as she knew, none of the multitude of experiments they’d performed on her had been even remotely successful.

      The man in the bed next to her, Kane, made a sound, low in his throat. More like a growl than a snore, even though she knew he was still deeply asleep. She wondered if he knew she sensed his wolf and how much such a thing terrified her. The only other wolf she’d ever been able to be aware of was her twin brother’s. And even that had been before the man who’d called himself their father had discovered that they were abominations.

      His music... She smiled to herself in the darkness. She’d never heard anything like it—or hadn’t in at least fifteen years. The thing inside her, the abomination, had actually gone quiet for once.

      Should she tell Kane this? Or would doing so somehow give him a weapon to use against her?

      Trust, no matter what her brother said, had to be earned. As of yet, she trusted no one. Least of all herself. Unable to sleep, she lay awake waiting for sunrise, listening for any sounds that might mean danger had found her.

      Once the sky began to lighten and Kane began to stir, she sat up, pushed back the sheets and padded to the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and got dressed. When she returned, Kane sat on the edge of his bed with the television on. Some sort of daybreak news show played.

      “Mornin’,” he drawled, the kindness of his smile making her feel warm all over. Struck speechless, she could only dip her chin in a nod.

      He didn’t seem to notice. “My turn.” Pushing off from the bed, he headed for the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

      With nothing to do but wait, Lilly sat down to watch the television. A commercial about laundry detergent wrapped up, and then the perky woman anchor appeared, her hot-pink suit matching her bright voice.

      “Breaking news,” she exclaimed. “Police in Maine have rescued two women who have been held captive for twelve years. This is eerily similar to the case in Ohio, where two girls were abducted as teens and held for ten years.”

      Lilly froze. There were others like her? As the women’s photos appeared on the screen, first the older ones from Missing posters showing them as teens, and then shots of them as they emerged from the house that had been their prison, she wrapped her arms around her waist and her eyes filled with tears. She knew these women, not personally but in spirit. In their sad gazes, the tightness around their mouths, and the way they walked, shoulders rounded as if they expected a blow, she recognized herself.

      She barely heard Kane emerge from the bathroom. Engrossed in the story, she didn’t look up. Nor did she make a move to wipe away the tears streaming down her face.

      “What’s wrong?” He sounded alarmed. When she didn’t respond, he dropped down onto the bed next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. “Lilly?”

      Gathering her shredded composure, and überconscious of his arm, she gestured at the TV, where they were wrapping up the segment. Then she whispered, “Those women were held captive for twelve years. And they mentioned there were others, held somewhere else for ten.”

      “Yes.” He hugged her. She wasn’t sure whether to stiffen, push him away or simply accept the comfort he offered. In the end, she stayed where she was.

      “You’re not alone,” he continued.

      Enough of this wallowing in emotion. “They told me that in therapy.” Pushing to her feet, she swiped the back of her hand across her wet face. “Are you about ready to go?”

      Watching her carefully, he nodded.

      “Give me just a minute.” And she hurried to the bathroom, where she blew her nose, splashed some cold water on her face and shook her head at her image in the mirror.

      They ran through a drive-through and grabbed breakfast sandwiches and coffee. In a few minutes they were back on I-90, heading east. Something about the motion of the car made her sleepy, and she accepted this as a gift. When she opened her eyes again, she saw several hours had passed. They stopped for lunch and this time when they got back on the road, she felt jittery and wide-awake.

      Noticing this, Kane turned down the radio. Stomach sinking, Lilly glanced sideways at him. He was going to ask questions. She recognized the signs.

      “You know, I’ll never forget when we found you,” Kane said. “All those years, with both you and Lucas believing the other one dead.”

      She nodded. Lucas was the only one with whom she’d spoken honestly. As twins, their emotions usually were mirror images of each other’s. But Kane had been kind to her and he was her brother’s friend. Trying like hell to calm her jangled nerves, she took a deep breath and braced herself for his curiosity.

      “Seeing my brother was the highlight of my life,” she told him honestly. “At first, I thought I was dreaming. I’d carried the knowledge of his death for so many years.”

      “What was it like?” Kane asked, his casual tone not fooling her one bit. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, but I can’t imagine.... It must have been pretty awful.”

      “Awful doesn’t begin to describe it.” She gave a rueful smile, settling back in her seat and folding her hands in her lap. This, discussing her captivity, was something she’d actually grown accustomed to. After all, she’d been dutifully attending therapy sessions twice a week ever since she’d gotten out of the hospital. And before that, she’d had to tell her story numerous times to the police, the FBI and the media.

      She had gotten quite adept at giving details without revealing any of her inner turmoil.

      Glancing at the large man behind the steering wheel, she launched into the standard, memorized description she’d given so many times before.

      “You saw where he kept me,” she said, grimacing. “Dark, cold, isolated. Exactly where demons should be kept, according to him. Sometimes I was left alone for days at a time. They fed me just enough to keep me alive. I craved water more than food, maybe because that was doled out sporadically. I had a large bucket to use as my bathroom. It was rarely emptied and stank, but after a while I didn’t even notice the smell.”

      Rote stuff. She’d said it a hundred times in exactly the same way. Usually, it was enough. She raised her eyes to find him watching her. The observant look in his narrowed gaze told her for him, it wasn’t. Somehow, he knew.

      Such a look... The sharpness of it might have stripped another woman naked. But Lilly had been through much worse. Though the slightly guilty pang she felt inside surprised her. She didn’t care what he thought. Or she shouldn’t. It was all so puzzling.

      Confusion exhausted her. Instead of continuing, she closed her eyes and tried to pretend he wasn’t making her remember, making her hurt. In fact, she tried to act as if he didn’t exist.

      “Are you okay?” The gentle tone in his whiskey voice made her insides quiver.

      “Yes.” Short answer,