They rode in silence for a time. "You've never asked questions about your mother," he said finally.

"Grandmother told me she was a Miwok and went back to her people because she wasn't happy at Volek House. I don't really remember her. Not like I do Wolf."

"You and Wolf had a special rapport." He sighed again. "I wish he'd come home."

Samara did, too. Especially now with Tanya gone, Druse busy with Grandmother and Stefan wanting to be by himself. Less than an hour later she discovered just how wrong she was about Druse and Stefan. Grandfather stabled the horse and stayed talking to Chung while the they unharnessed the animal from the buggy. Not wanting to wait, Samara walked to the house by herself. But she turned aside before she reached the back door since the night was warm and the silver moonlight held a promise that entranced her.

She meandered along the brick path through the rose garden and, with the flowers' sweet scent drifting after her, entered the grape arbor. There, where the vines' thick foliage shut away the moonlight, she heard a girl laugh and held, listening.

The girl laughed again, low and intimate-sounding. "Not again," she said softly in a voice Samara recognized. Druse! What was she doing in the grape arbor? And who was she talking to?

Without taking time to think, Samara edged quietly ahead, alert for the slightest noise.

"Again and again and again." A man's voice this time and one Samara knew as well as she knew her own. "You know you like it as well as I do."

Stefan. Druse was with Stefan. She stopped, suddenly not wanting to know why they were together. But she was too late.

"You'll have to catch me first!" Druse cried.

Hidden by the shadows under the grape arbor, Samara watched as Druse, wearing not a stitch of clothing, darted out of the arbor and ran laughing over the grass, only to be caught, tumbled to the ground and embraced by an equally naked Stefan.

She'd never seen a man and woman mate and she didn't care to see it now. Samara closed her eyes, feeling betrayed without understanding why. No longer worrying whether they heard her or not, she turned and fled into the house, up the stairs and into her bedroom.

No wonder I could never find Druse, she thought as she paced up and down. She was with Stefan. Like that. What's he thinking of? Druse is only fourteen!

Druse might have a woman's figure but she was still a child--Stefan should have more sense. She had to talk to him. Tonight.

Knowing Druse and Stefan must come in soon because Grandfather barred the doors before he went to bed, Samara marched down the hall to Stefan's room, sat down and waited in the dark with the door ajar.

When he finally pushed the door open and entered his bedroom, Samara had her speech well planned. But seeing him standing there staring at her, illuminated by the dim hall light, a frisson of fear ran along her spine. Was that Stefan she saw? Her brother? Her twin? He looked different--his features somehow coarser. And when had his hair gotten so long?

"What're you doing in here?" His voice was hoarse. Growly.

Samara rose. "Stefan?" With dismay she heard a quaver in her voice.

"Who the hell else would it be?"

"You--you look strange."

He threw back his head and laughed. He sounded strange. Fierce. Samara struggled with an impulse to edge past him and flee to her room.

No! She'd come to have her say. Taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth to begin, then was horrified at what came out.

"Why did you kill that kitten last year?"

He didn't seem even slightly surprised by her question. "Because it hated me." He closed the door, strode past her, pushed the curtains open as far as they'd go and opened both windows.

"That cat knew before I did," he said, his back to her as he stared from a window. The moonlight slanting into the room silvered his dark hair.

Samara hugged herself. "Knew what?"

"What I was. You sense it now, don't you?"

She bit her lip, uncertain what to say or do. "You're--different," she finally muttered.

"God, yes! It almost happened last month, this month it will. I'll be free!"

He turned and she gasped. His face was changing, altering. Like Arno's.

"Don't be scared." He growled rather than spoke. "I won't shift all the way. Not yet. The moon's rays aren't quite strong enough."

"But you can't! Not you. You're not a shifter."

His smile was grotesque. "You know better."

Gazing at his half-human, half-beast face, she couldn't deny the truth. Tears burned in her eyes and one trickled down her cheek.

"Don't cry," he said. "This is what I've always wanted. I can hardly wait to shift all the way--to run, to be free." She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "We'll have to tell Grandfather so--"

"No!" He took a step toward her and she took a step back. "I want you to promise you won't tell him. Or anyone."

"But Stefan, you have to learn--"

"I won't be locked in that windowless room like Arno was. Never!" Stefan's eyes blazed at her. "I swear I'll kill myself if you tell." He raised his hand and made an X over his heart.

Seeing the half-beast's sign, an echo of their childhood promises, brought a lump to her throat. They were no longer children but Stefan was still her twin brother. She loved him despite everything. And she knew him better than anyone else in the world did. It was true he might well kill himself if he was locked in that room. If she told Grandfather, she'd be murdering Stefan. She twisted her hands together, not seeing any alternative but to keep his secret.

"Does Druse know?" she asked.

"No. Why would she?"

"I saw with her you earlier. Oh, Stefan, she's so young."

"She was there--she's always there--and I can't control my urges. Not when the moon's near full. It's as if he--it--takes over my mind like it soon will my body."

Samara covered her mouth with her hands. "I'm afraid for you." Her voice was muffled.

"Don't be. Think of me as being free at last."

She shook her head. "He--it'll be free, not you.

You're Stefan but it's a beast. Grandfather told us you won't have any control over the beast or even know what it does."

"I'll know in my heart. The beast will be my true self."

"No! Never!"

"You can't understand. No one can. Except maybe Arno." She raised her chin, pretending a bravery she didn't feel. "What about me? I'm your twin. Will I be safe from the beast? What if it turns on me? Kills me?"

He held out his hands. "I couldn't possibly hurt you. Ever."

"But does the beast feel the same? You don't know." "Arno didn't harm Ivan."

"They're not us!" she cried. "We're not identical twins so we've already broken one Volek rule about shifters. How can you be sure of anything? What if you shift into the beast and can't change back?"

"I'd be happy."

The tears she'd held back so long overcame her control and her chest heaved with sobs. Through the veil of tears she saw the half-beast move toward her.

"Don't touch me!" she wailed, then turned and fled to her own room, locking the door behind her.

The next morning Samara found a note from Stefan slipped under her door asking her to tell Grandfather he'd gone on several week camping trip into the mountains.

"I suppose I've been keeping too tight a rein on that boy," Grandfather remarked when she found him in his study and told him about Stefan's note. "God knows I don't want to lose him as we've lost Wolf. What do you think, Samara?" Guilt hobbled her tongue. "Stefan doesn't like school," she managed to say.

"So Mr. Mathewson's been reporting for some years now. I understand from him that you're a good student--as bright as Arno or Ivan, in his opinion."

Samara felt guiltier than ever at the praise.

"What do you want from life, Samara?" Grandfather asked. She didn't know and she couldn't think what to say so she merely shook her head.

"Do you dream of marrying, like Tanya?" he persisted. "No. Who would I marry?"

He sighed. "I know I've restricted you. It's time I let you and Stefan go into the world. Would you be interested in attending Stanford University this fall? I'm sure Mr. Mathewson could make sure you'd be ready."

"Stefan wouldn't like the University. He hates being forced to learn."

Grandfather half-smiled. "I can't imagine him being happy there. But you and Stefan aren't inseparable. Perhaps it's time you went your separate ways."

If only she could tell Grandfather the truth! Stefan was safe enough as long as it was daylight but what would happen when the moon rose tonight? How she longed to share her fear for him. Her grandfather would know what to do. Realizing she had to speak, she blurted the first thing that came into her head. "Druse wants to marry Stefan. I don't think that's a good idea."

Grandfather gazed at her a long time before he spoke. "What does Stefan think?"

"He says he'll never marry."

"Druse is far too young at the moment but looking into the future a marriage between them isn't such a bad idea as you seem to think. They both understand the dangers of furthering the Volek line and it would be two less outsiders joining the family."

She desperately wanted to cry that Stefan could never marry anyone because he was a shifter. She bit her lip to keep silent.

"Sit down here beside me, child," he said, patting the ottoman at the foot of his chair. "Good," he told her when she perched uneasily on the large footstool. "I well remember the night you and Stefan were born. I held you in my arms the next morning and I named you for a Volek ancestor. You wailed when I called you Samara and I decided then you had a mind of your own. You still do.

I can see there's something troubling you, something you're reluctant to share.

Believe me, I'd do anything in the world to help you."

She remained silent.

Grandfather sighed and smoothed her hair. "You resemble your blood grandmother," he told her. "She was a very pretty woman, a descendent of one of the old Spanish families who settled California long before the Americans came west. At the time I met her I was a foolish and reckless young man who didn't realize what the future held. Otherwise--" He paused and smiled sadly. "If I had known about the Volek heritage, I'm afraid you and Stefan would never have been born."

Samara listened raptly, hoping he'd go on. Grandfather all too rarely spoke of the past.

"I want you to be happy," he said. "If you don't like the idea of the University, maybe a finishing school would suit you. I mustn't keep you hidden away at Volek House any longer."

She wouldn't be sent away! What would happen to Stefan if there were no one here to look after him?

Before she could find a way to protest, Grandfather spoke again. "It was cruel of me to name you after the woman who brought the shapeshifting trait into the family hundreds of years ago. I hope you'll forgive me."

"Tell me about her," Samara begged, relieved to put off any more discussion about leaving as well as both thrilled and dismayed by what he'd said about her name.

"A very long time ago when our forebears lived on the edge of the Russian forest," he began, "a pretty girl named Samara couldn't be stopped from wandering in the forest despite the danger of wolves. And of worse.

"The local Wise Woman warned Samara that the lieshui, the spirits of the forest, would ensorcel her but the girl refused to listen. Samara had paid no attention to the village youths who came to court her but one day she brought a stranger home with her, a yellow-eyed man dressed in silver-gray who wore a cloak of wolfskins. She said his name was Volek and from then on she would look at no other man. "Her family, along with the rest of the villagers, disliked and feared this man from the forest but when it became clear Samara was with child, her father gave her to the stranger in marriage.

"On the night after the wedding, a full moon rose. It was then the Wise Woman crept into the bedroom of Samara's father and woke him. 'Death rides the moon,' she hissed. 'You have welcomed a beast into your house, you have wedded your daughter to a son of the forest spirits, an oborot who is both man and beast. Rise and stab him with a silver knife while he sleeps or he will kill you all and gobble your hearts before morning.'

"Samara's father roused his three sons and, armed with knives, they slipped into the bridal chamber and fell on the slumbering groom. The sons withdrew in terror when the stranger's flesh, penetrated by their steel knives, closed over immediately. But the father's silver knife rose and fell until blood stained the bedcovers and dripped onto the floor.

"The bridegroom howled and fell back on the bed. Though they believed he must be dead, when he began to change into a horrible beast the men took fright, gathered up the screaming Samara and ran from the room, carrying her to the Wise Woman. "She forced infusions of herbs down the girl's throat to rid her of the child she carried. When the father and his sons returned to drag away the beast, he was gone. Neither he nor the stranger named Volek was ever seen again.

"Samara didn't miscarry despite all the potions she was fed. When she was finally brought to the birthing stool, she fell into a trance when the first child was born and died as the second child slipped from her womb. Her father meant to kill the babies but when he saw how human they looked, identical twin boys who, except for their golden eyes, resembled his own sons when they had been babes, he hadn't the heart.

"The old Wise Woman, who might have convinced him the twins must not live, was dead herself by this time, savaged by a wolf while she hunted for firewood in the forest. Or at least the villagers preferred to believe it was a wolf. "Samara's twins grew to manhood and the full moon rose and one of them-changed. The villagers waited and stabbed him through the heart with a silver dagger when he returned to human form. The other escaped, fleeing to a faraway city. There he took the name of Volek which was his by right and in due course luck brought him a wealthy wife who bore him nine children, none of them twins."

Grandfather paused for a moment and took a deep breath. "This is the story handed down from father to eldest son since that time with the admonition that if identical twin sons were born they must not be allowed to live. Unfortunately, my father couldn't bring himself to kill my brother and me. My twin, who was blameless, perished but I survived. Years later, I returned to Russia where my father told me the story. I've repeated it to Wolf, to Arno and Ivan, a part of it to Tanya and now I've told you."

Samara gazed at Grandfather, struck speechless by the terrible beauty of the tale.

"But I add a warning," he went on. "No more Voleks can be born. It's past time for the line, with its dismal shapeshifter heritage, to die."

Samara found her voice. "You were a twin?" she asked. He nodded. "As I said, the wrong twin lived. I'm a shapeshifter. And, to my shame, I've fathered another. Luckily Arno, like me, prefers to remain human. He's learned to control the urge to shift. But we can take no more chances. No more Voleks will be born. No more!"

Samara swallowed. What would he do when he discovered he also had a shifter grandson? And worse, one who'd rather remain a beast?

Chapter 8.

Samara peered from the music room window at the rain falling from dark clouds that didn't show any sign of dissipating. She sighed and returned to the piano bench to stare morosely at her book of musical exercises.

While she didn't hate practicing, her piano lessons had only been an excuse to persuade Grandfather not to send her to finishing school.