“Morgan told me you studied art,” Remi said as he led Honey into a part of the house she hadn’t visited before.

“Yeah, I studied Art History and Museum Gallery Management. I thought I would work in some exclusive gallery when I started. It seemed like a good fit, you know, former model in a gallery of art. It sounds so superficial now. Of course, by the time I graduated, I really wanted to work in the Modern Art Museum. Now I sling coffee.”

Remi slowed down so that Honey could walk next to him. “I thought Morgan said you ran a rather bohemian gallery space. Did I misunderstand?”

She scoffed. “It is very bohemian. I am in charge of the rotating art show that’s on display in the coffee shop where I work. Not exactly what I’d call being a curator or anything.”

“Curating smaller shows counts, Honey. Don’t discount the work you do because it isn’t as grand as your expectations.”

They turned a corner and Honey stopped. Her jaw dropped as she pointed at the painting in front of her. She smiled in disbelief. “That’s Finney’s!”

“Yes, that is one of our newest pieces. I’m not sure it’s the investment our purchasing agent thinks it has the potential of being. Of course, I think our purchasing agent was coerced into buying it by Julia. She’s trying to convince Jinx to let her put it in her office. Says it speaks to her. Jinx seems to think Morgan wants it. I don’t know. It doesn’t strike me as Morgan’s style.”

So much for intrigue and subterfuge. It wasn’t obscure royalty who’d purchased the painting, but Morgan. And she thought he didn’t like abstract expressionism. Lana was right. There was so much more to Morgan than Honey ever would have guessed just by looking at him wearing a plaid work shirt.

“What is Morgan’s style?” Honey asked, realizing she didn’t really know a lot of the little details about Morgan. She knew how he made her feel and that was enough.

“Why, he prefers mid-century realism. He has an original Diego Rivera hanging in his suite. Has he not shown you yet?” Remi asked. “His first degrees are in Art History and Architecture. He liked to make big art when he was a child. I honestly never expected him to continue on to build buildings.”

Honey laughed to herself. No wonder Morgan knew about abstract expressionism. He must have found her to be very entertaining when she spouted her praise of Frieda Kahlo when he had an original Diego Rivera.

Remi continued, “Of course, with his family already owning a small construction firm, it makes sense looking back that Morgan would take what he had and combine it with what he loves. He’s turned Seven Hills into the foremost earthquake-proof foundation experts in Northern California. He works with top architecture firms and gets to tell other designers what will and won’t work.”

They turned another corner into a wide gallery space. Honey caught her breath and stared in amazement. The space wasn’t large, but the art it held was impressive and very old.

Honey was inexplicably drawn to a small painting in an elaborate gold and black frame. The painting delicately portrayed the Virgin Mary, a baby Jesus, and an angel. Honey covered her mouth in awe. Mary had blond wavy hair, a round face with delicate features, small mouth, small chin. The baby Jesus figure, pudgy and pink, smiled happily. The cherub was equally pudgy, but his expression was more knowing, worldly. All three figures were crowned with a barely visible arch of a halo. The quality of the paint made it appear as if the figures glowed from within. The paint application appeared practically smooth with nearly invisible paint strokes. Age had crackled the paint in areas, but overall the image was well preserved. Clearly, this painting had been cared for its entire long existence.

“She’s a beauty isn’t she?” Remi asked. “She pulls everyone in their first time here.”

“God, this is from the Renaissance, isn’t it?” She looked to Remi for confirmation.

“That is the Renaissance. It’s credited to Raphael.”

“Raphael? The Raphael?” Honey turned her gaze back to the painting. She slowly eased forward, so she could examine it more closely. “No wonder we still study him today. This is unreal. There are depths within depths. This area right here—” she indicated with her finger a space just beyond Mary’s shoulder. “—there are color shifts in here that are practically subliminal. I could look at this for hours and still not truly see it. I can see how people spend years studying one painting. I never really understood that. Of course, I’ve never been this close to a masterpiece before.”

“Haven’t you been to Italy?”

“Yeah, but that was before I paid attention to art, really. I mean we saw stuff, but whenever I was there, it was to work not to study art. I feel like I wasted my time over there now. This is amazing.”

“Well, we have several pre-Raphaelites you might be interested in as well.” Remi backed up indicating to Honey she should move on to admire the rest of the collection.

As she turned, a medium-sized bronze sculpture at the end of the gallery caught her attention. Her hand instinctively went to her charm. She reverently walked up to the statue of the large wolf. She-wolf, Honey corrected herself. The wolf stood on all four paws. She appeared to have whelped recently. Her expression was one of concerned awareness, jaws slack and ears pricked forward. Waves of longer fur created repeating patterns around the head and neck of the sculpture.

“Capitoline Wolf. She’s beautiful. Didn’t I read something where they found she isn’t Etruscan as they originally thought but a medieval work? This is really detailed for a replica. And it’s amazingly old.” Honey inched her face closer to look at the detail work in the fur pattern.

“The one in the museum is medieval. It’s the replica. This one is the original. And it is Etruscan. It’s been in our family since it was first commissioned.”

Honey’s head snapped to Remi. “What? How?”

Remi chuckled, a low rumbling sound. “How much do you know about ancient Rome, Honey?”

“Not a lot,” she confessed.

“Sit.” Remi indicated a low bench in the middle of the gallery, a few feet from the wolf statue. Honey sat so she could continue to look at the sculpture. “What do you know about her,” Remi asked, nodding towards the statue.

“The Capitoline Wolf. Etruscan. Bronze. Uhm, Art History don’t fail me now,” she muttered to herself. “She’s the mythological wolf that suckled Remus and Romulus, the twin founders of Rome, right?”

Remi nodded. “Very good. What else do you know about Remus and Romulus?” He was using his teacher’s voice. Honey noticed a subtle difference in intonation and inflection.

“Nothing. Didn’t one of them kill the other?” she asked.

“The story of Remus and Romulus is more than the founding myth of Rome. It’s our family history.”

Honey raised her eyebrows at Remi, not quite in disbelief, but questioning surprise.

Remi’s lecture voice was soothing, and it drew her in. “Numitor, an Etruscan king of the city-state Alba Longa had a beautiful daughter. Rhea Silvia attracted many suitors, including the gods themselves.”

As Remi spoke, Honey conjured up pictures of men in tall sandals and short togas. All the buildings looked like temples of white columns. She knew it wasn’t historically accurate, but it was the picture in her mind.

Remi continued to tell the tale of how Rhea Silvia’s father’s jealous brother, Amulius, wanted her and the city for himself. When Rhea Silvia refused him, Amulius took over the city, throwing Numitor in jail. Rhea Silvia continued to refuse Amulius’s advances, so he sentenced her to live as a Vestal Virgin. But she was no virgin. Rhea Silvia’s lover was the war god Mars.

Honey imagined a lithe, beautiful girl dressed in diaphanous cream and gold robes, with the elaborate hairstyle of seven braids of the Vestal Virgins clinging to a large tawny-skinned man. The Mars in her imagination wore red, had bulging muscles, and a big black beard. Rhea Silvia and Mars. She was beautiful, he was strong. As the story continued, the movie in Honey’s brain also continued.

Rhea Silvia became pregnant with Mars’s children. For breaking her vows of celibacy, she was sentenced to death. The twin sons she gave birth to were also sentenced to be killed. Amulius, afraid of the wrath of the war god, had them thrown into the river, thinking they would drown or the elements would be the end of them. The river god Tiberinus saved all three and brought them to the banks in the swamp at the base of the Palatine Hill.

Because of his love for her, Mars turned Rhea Silvia into a wolf so she could fight and hunt for her survival. She cared for her children as both human woman and as wolf, until they were found by an Etruscan farmer who took them in. He married Rhea Silvia, who now went by the name Acca Laren’tia, and raised Remus and Romulus as his own.

Remus and Romulus grew, and when they reached puberty, they also had the ability to change into wolf form. They became fierce warriors and battled to take the city of Alba Longa back. Successful in reclaiming the city, they released their grandfather from prison. Numitor wanted to grant them rule over Alba Longa, but they refused. They wanted to start their own city.

Honey pictured isolated hills with temples on top. She did not picture the city of Rome at all, a city she had visited more than once during her days as a model.

Remi’s deep voice continue. “Remus wanted them to build on the Aventine Hill, Romulus, the Palatine Hill. History calls it an argument. It really was a bloody battle over the location of their city. Romulus won, defeating Remus in a fight of wolf dominance.”

“So Romulus killed Remus?” Honey asked for clarification.

“Yes, Romulus killed Remus. Rome is named for the former. The family is named for our origins at the base of the Palatine Hill,” Remi explained.

“The other hill—you said Aventine. Didn’t I meet someone with that name yesterday?”

“You’re talking about Roman Aventine. Yes, he was here. His family goes back as far. They are the descendants of Remus. The current generation is attempting to forge a peace accord and work together. I’m not sure how well it will work. If their alpha begins to pay attention again, it might fail.”

“So —” Honey paused, thinking. “—you’re descended from the god Mars? I thought Morgan told me the wolf thing was genetic.”

“Isn’t your lineage genetic?” Remi asked.

“Oh, right. Good point. Wow.” She slowly shook her head from side to side. “If the Palatines and Aventines can trace their history this far back, how many other wolf families are there? Or are you the only wolf families?”

“Not at all. What we have been able to find out is every culture that has a wolf-to-human shifting myth has, or had, a family line with the trait. Palatines and Aventines moved throughout Europe. Unfortunately, the family didn’t always keep track of offspring. Most families, clans, or packs, whatever they refer to themselves as, tend to not advertise. We are aware there are groups all over the world, but we don’t have much interaction with them. I think Julia is working to build some information network among the different alphas. That involves a lot of work. Locating the families. Gaining their trust enough to confirm they are wolves.” Remi folded his hands in his lap. “I admit, I like the old ways. We kept to ourselves.”

Honey thought about this for a minute. Wolves in hiding, not letting the outside world in. This was a family that if they gave you their trust, you must have done something to earn it.

“But you know about the Aventines.”

“We’ve known about them since the very beginning, just as they have about us. It’s not exactly the same as going into a different country and asking where their wolves are.”

Honey chuckled. “Yeah, talk about being in the closet. I guess that explains why you’re such a tight family and the school.”

“Exactly. Children don’t start turning until they hit puberty. That’s when you find out if you have the talent or not. Not all of us turn, but we all keep the secret. Teen years can be difficult enough as it is. Add on top of that the competitiveness and fight for position within a large extended family. Our children develop increased speed and strength as they come into their wolf. This can lead to problems with the general population. Our children frequently get into trouble in school and in general. We found that by providing a learning environment that knows how to deal with their gifts, we can keep them in school where they need to be and provide them with proper training. Our children are well educated. When we started the school, we set up a foundation so that all the students who complete high school level work with us can go on to the college of their choice. In the school, we are able to focus their energy and competitive nature on knowledge and learning. We’ve had the school for almost forty years. Since its inception, our graduates have all gone on to complete their educations and have successful careers. I’m teaching the children of children I taught when we started.”

“What grades do you teach? You said high school. When do they start here?” Honey asked.

“They start when they need it. Our first official grade is the sixth grade. Up until that point, younger students are individually tutored on an as-needed basis.”

Remi’s phone buzzed. He picked it up, looking at the display. “Speaking of the school, there seems to be an issue I need to go handle. I can leave you here to commune with the rest of our collection? Shall I message Morgan to come find you in the gallery?” Remi began tapping into his phone before Honey replied.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I think I need some time to really absorb everything you told me anyway. This is as good as any place to be alone with my thoughts.”

Remi nodded, and wheeled out the way they had come in.

Honey sat and stared at the wolf. She couldn’t think much past the fact that she looked at something made thousands of years ago. It was the same feeling she got when she viewed Egyptian artifacts. There was an artist who made something they wanted to share with the world, to create a tiny part of themselves to live forever in a work of art, and it worked. No one knew who the artist was. Had he been happy? Was being an artist fulfilling? Here was part of him in front of her. If she was bold, she could even touch it. Was this really a tangible connection to Morgan’s family history?

No wonder he said he was familiar with the Capitoline Hill. Here she sat face to face with the Capitoline Wolf. Wolf. The mark on her pendant was fitting. It was almost too much to take in.Honey tried to look around at the other works, mostly paintings. She couldn’t focus on anything beyond the wolf. Her eyes kept returning to it. Her mind kept thinking about it. Mars, the god of war. Wolves. Remus and Romulus, Rome. Genealogy was something this family had clearly tracked for centuries. Clearly, they knew how far back. Were there emperors and Caesars in their history? She wondered how far and wide were their connections.

Hell, Morgan wasn’t a rich tycoon; he was some kind of wolf prince. Honey looked around. Her head started to pound. Her stitches throbbed. She felt lost, drowning in thoughts about history, lost in the house again. She needed Morgan. This was too much to handle on her own.She fished for the map he had drawn out. It didn’t include this part of the house. Overwhelmed, tears slid down her face. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, purposefully focusing on her breathing in an attempt to not let panic take over. She shoved the paper back into her pocket and wrapped her fingers around the pendant. A gift from Morgan, a talisman of strength.

She slowly walked out of the gallery. She remembered turning to see Finney’s large painting. She reversed her steps. She focused on in through her nose, out through her mouth. The hall looked familiar. She turned around to look at it from the perspective she had first walked down it. Yes, this looked like the right direction. Another turn, another set of double doors. Finally, Honey found herself next to the dining room Morgan had disappeared into. She let out a sigh of relief.

A large couch was in front of her. She decided to sit and wait. Just knowing she was closer to Morgan, she felt better.

The door to the dining room opened, and Honey heard the mutterings of different conversations winding down. She turned when she heard the click of heels walk quickly past behind her to see Julia.

Dante and another man left the room next.

Honey recognized Shane’s gruff voice. She didn’t see who he talked to immediately. “There haven’t been any incidents since you were abducted. I think it might be a null threat at this point, but we are still following up with that daywalker intel.”

Honey’s eyes widened. Someone had been abducted? Who?

Morgan stepped out of the room following Shane.

“What does he mean abducted?” Honey blurted out.

“Oh, man,” Shane muttered. He clapped Morgan on the back. “I’ll leave this one to you. Sorry about that, brother.”

“Honey,” Morgan approached Honey, his arms out to her. “That’s not really what—.”

“No,” she cut him off. “Shane said abducted. What did he mean? When?”

Morgan cupped his hands around the backs of her arms. “I don’t really have that information.”

Honey shrugged out his grasp. “Morgan, remember no secrets. And you damn sure have information if you were the one abducted. I need to know now, or I think I need to leave now.”

* * *

Honey paced back and forth in front of the leather couch. Morgan sat in the middle, slowly explaining his disappearance weeks earlier.

“So you didn’t go camping?”

“Not on purpose anyway. As far as we have been able to ascertain, there have been no other threats. It appears to have been an isolated incident.

Security on everyone in the family increased as soon as they realized I was missing. No one knew about you, so you have been safe. I’ve been guarding you personally since I got back.”

“I’m in danger?”

“No, I don’t think you are. I’ve had heightened awareness since my incident. I don’t want anything to happen to you, so I’ve been watching out.”

“Are you saying that what’s going on between us is just body-guarding to the extreme?”

Morgan stood. Placing himself in the path of Honey’s nervous walking. “Not at all.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in close. “I’m in love with you. What grew between us has nothing to do with me being abducted. If anything, that made me take decisive action and stop acting like a stupid kid with a crush.”

“Then what’s going on?” Honey pleaded.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Morgan announced.

Honey let him claim her lips. She relaxed against their softness.

She sighed. “That’s not what I meant. I meant with that other thing Shane mentioned.”

“That’s still all being investigated. One of the men who abducted me was what we call a ‘daywalker.’ We followed up to see if there are any rumors circulating in their ranks.”

Honey nodded in understanding. “Wait. What’s a daywalker?”

“They’re related to vampires.”

“Are you kidding me? Vampires are real?”

Morgan nodded slowly. “Maplecourt’s involved.”

“Bryce knows you’re a werewolf?”

“I doubt it. He doesn’t seem to have much of an imagination. He was oblivious to clues right in front of him. I think he thinks it’s all about money and control and the mafia. He’s put himself into a dangerous position. I’m very serious when I say I don’t want you near him.”

Pain pierced Honey’s skull. She pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to squeeze her skull back together without touching her stitches. “I’m getting a headache. This is too much. You’re a werewolf, descended from fucking Mars. You were kidnapped and shot. Bryce is somehow in the middle of all of this. And now vampires. I think my brain might be done. I need to eat something. I need a drink. I need…” Honey’s eyes rolled up and she slumped against Morgan.

“Honey!” He patted her face. She was non-responsive. “Honey?” He felt her pulse. It beat steady, and she was breathing. Morgan scooped her up and carried her to his bed.

Honey’s eyes flickered open. “What?”

“You passed out. You need to rest.”

Honey slept. For the first hour, Morgan sat and watched over her. When he realized she would sleep for a while, he headed to the kitchen to make arrangements for an early dinner to be served in his rooms. Honey was still asleep when he returned.

There was a knock on his door.

Julia stormed in. “Okay, this is the information I found.” She dropped a stack of printouts on the low coffee table.

Morgan glanced to check on Honey.

“Am I interrupting?” Julia didn’t sound the least bit sorry if she was.

“No. Honey’s taking a nap, that’s all.”

“Well, the board has my hands tied on this one. They won’t do anything until you give approval. It’s frustrating Morgan. I’m doing the work. I’m making the recommendations. And they won’t wipe their own noses unless you tell them it’s okay.”

“What do you want me to do to change that?”

“Put me in charge. Let me run the damn company. I already am anyway.” From the tone of her voice, Morgan knew it wasn’t a suggestion.

Morgan knew Julia was right. His focus was on the construction company, not the parent corporation. He knew he was thinking small since his area of interest was just a small part of the whole enterprise, but he also knew where his heart truly lay.

“You got it. Let’s draw up the paperwork. I’ll step down. Make me a consultant, so I’m not completely out of the picture.”

“Smart decision.” She nodded sharply.

“Of course, that’s what I do—make smart decisions. You have been running the company. I’ve been a figurehead. I’m in the way, so let’s put you in a position to really do what you do best. Now tell me what’s in those papers I’m not going to read.”

Julia laughed. “A list of potential labs for purchasing. Aventine has almost closed the buy-out on SeaQuence. We’re going to need access to more than one lab, and we are going to need to be able to conduct genetic research outside of a commercial lab. It’s easier to purchase an existing lab and staff than to build one from scratch. I thought you might want to look at the prospects.” She glanced up to Honey’s sleeping form. “Mate, huh?”

Morgan cocked his eyebrows and nodded.

“Well, try not to be distracted for too long. We do need your focus back here.” Julia pointed to the papers on the table. “Shane is digging up something that sounds like it could be nasty. I hope your mate is tough. She’s jumping on board in time for a bumpy ride.”

“She hasn’t agreed to come along for the ride yet. That’s why I’m moving to Monterey for a while.”

“Morgan, we’re really going to need you up here with all this going on. Is moving now such a good idea?” Julia asked, concerned.

“It’s where she is. I have to be where she is.”

“Bring her up here.”

“I don’t think it will be that easy. I don’t know if she would give up her job and her life down there to live with me.”

“Morgan, your brain has turned to rocks. Marry her and bring her home.”

Morgan kissed Julia on the cheek. “You’re brilliant.”

“Of course, I am.” Julia picked up the papers she dropped earlier. “You don’t need these, so I’ll keep them. When do you head back?”

“Tomorrow. I have to wrap up a few things at the site before I hand it over.”

“I’ll have the papers drawn up this week. I’ll overnight them for signing.”

“Sounds good.”

* * *

Honey rolled over and opened her eyes. Morgan sat across the room looking at her. She pushed into a sitting position. She smiled at his intense gaze, shapeshifters were definitely sexy.

“I had the weirdest dream,” she announced. She had dreamed of temples and togas, and Mars, the god.

“Let me guess. Werewolves, Rome, and vampires?”

“Shit, it wasn’t a dream, was it? What happened?”

“You passed out, sweetheart. When was the last time you ate? You simply checked out for a bit then fell asleep.” Morgan sat next to her. “Are you going to be okay?”

Honey nodded. Her reality had taken a sudden shift, but she would be safe with Morgan and all of his various talents.

“Are we going to be okay?”

Honey put her hand on Morgan’s arm. “Of course, we are. Why wouldn’t we be?”

“You had said it was too much.”

“Too much all at once, but I think I can adjust. I accepted that you can do the wolf thing with great calmness. I think I was owed that little freak-out over the rest. Did you say Bryce was a vampire?”