by Dannika Dark
Silly was one word to describe her older half brother. Not the adjective I would have chosen but fitting nonetheless. “It’s been years since I’ve seen Lakota. What’s he up to?”
“Oh, about six feet.”
“Seriously. You never talk about him anymore. Did something happen?”
She bit her lip and set the wolf down. “Promise not to say anything? It’s a secret.”
“He joined the circus, didn’t he? I knew it.” I snapped my fingers for emphasis.
Playfully pushing my shoulder, she said, “Don’t be silly.”
“No, that’s Lakota’s job.”
Hope circled her finger around the wolf’s snout. The carving stood eight inches tall, and the wolf looked like he was guarding something. “He’s been working as a bounty hunter.”
I turned to face her. “Why’s that a secret? Lots of Shifters do bounty hunter work, especially alphas and betas. Two of my uncles used to be bounty hunters.”
“True,” she said, her voice soft. “But have you ever asked them about it? Most bounty hunters keep it a secret and only tell close family members. We don’t want to put him in any more danger than he’s already in. People gossip, and since everyone knows our father, it’s the kind of thing that would spread fast in the wrong circles. Criminals like to know who all the active bounty hunters are, so it’s best not to talk about it.”
Thinking back, I realized we hadn’t spoken about Lakota much. Whenever he would come up, Hope would always change the topic. Now I understood the stress she must have been going through—always worried that something awful could happen to her brother while she was unable to talk about it with anyone. Bounty hunting was dangerous work, but it paid well in both money and experience.
“Was it your choice not to tell me or his? I thought we were like family.”
She frowned. “It’s not that I don’t trust you—”
“I’m not mad,” I said quickly, not wanting to come across as a jerk. “If it was at your family’s insistence, then I totally understand. But I just want you to know that you can trust me with anything—especially when it comes to family. We’ve known each other too long, and I don’t gossip.”
“I know that. You’re a good friend, and maybe I was wrong for not saying anything. But you were also close to your pack.”
She had me there. I loved my former pack and confided in them. Hope was probably afraid I might mention something to my mom or my aunt in a moment of weakness. And a couple of years ago, I might have. I’d never had anyone entrust me with something that big.
I looked down at the bracelet she’d given me long ago with Sister written on a metal plate.
Hope squeezed my hand. “Sometimes it’s just easier not to burden someone with secrets. I wouldn’t have wanted your family thinking you were keeping things from them. Not even my father’s pack knows what he’s doing—only family. They think he’s still living up in Cognito with his adoptive parents. It’s better this way until he makes enough money and connections to step away and do something else with his life.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell a soul.” My eyebrows arched as the truth began to sink in. “Who would have thought? Lakota Cross, a bounty hunter. Time flies. I still remember a boy who used to play a lot of pranks.”
“He’s a man of thirty now, and we’re proud of him. But sometimes we go long stretches without hearing from him. People put hits on bounty hunters, so my mother is hoping he’ll be ready to join a pack soon. She worries so much for his safety. Lakota will make a strong second-in-command. He’s building a reputation and a savings account that any decent Packmaster would respect.” Hope glanced at the note again, her fingers tracing the numbers at the bottom. “His number changes a lot. He gives it to us in case there’s an emergency, but we never call him. One call could put him in danger, so we wait for him to contact us.”
“Sounds tough.” I gave her a tight hug. “Now I feel like an insensitive ass for making jokes about him around you.”
“You make me laugh, and sometimes I need the reminder that he’ll be free of that life someday. I wouldn’t have it any other way, Freckles.”
Shaking my head, I pulled back. “Do me a favor and don’t start calling me that.”
She tamped down a smile. “He’s never mentioned it to you?”
I patted the wolf sculpture on the head. “No. I guess if he has a pet name for me, I’ll have to think of something really special for him so that the next time he comes to town—”
“No! Then he’ll think I’m conspiring against him.”
“Conspiring to do what?”
Hope grabbed the store keys. “To ruin his reputation. Lakota doesn’t live around here, but respect is important to him. He’ll kill me if you come up with an embarrassing nickname because you read his letter. Nicknames stick and not always in a good way. Promise me you won’t do it?”
“Well, I guess it could be worse. He could have called me an eggplant.” I tugged the ends of my hair.
“Don’t be silly. That’s an entirely different shade of purple.”
I put my hands on my hips. “Why, Hope, are you being a smartass?”
“Guilty as charged.” She pulled off her ponytail holder and shook out her tangled hair. “We have a long day tomorrow. Let’s go home and order a pizza.”
Tapping my finger on the wolf’s nose, I said, “Guard the palace, boy.”
Hope snickered and strode toward the door. “That gift was Lakota’s way of telling every customer that we’re Shifters.”
“Why should that matter?”
Nearing the door, she glanced over her shoulder. “It’s his way of warning people not to mess with us even though we’re not in a pack. Wolves stick together.”
Chapter 2
Three slices of pizza and a bowl of mint ice cream later, I collapsed on our hot-pink sofa, magazine in hand. My hair was tousled and still damp from my shower, and I hadn’t bothered to change out of my white terrycloth robe and blue slippers.
It was hard to believe that just one year ago, we were still living with our packs. Shifter children grow up knowing who and what they are, but most of the kids I knew didn’t go through their first shift until their late teens or early twenties. After that, they left the pack as a rite of passage. Some mated right away, but most preferred to live on their own to prove their value in the community and sow those wild oats before joining a pack. A wolf wouldn’t be considered a rogue at that age, not until they got older and openly resisted the idea of ever joining up with a pack. Hope and I hadn’t moved until we’d adjusted to the whole shifting process. Cohabitation was essential for wolves, and we had to learn to control the shift and create a routine so our wolves could run.
The scary part about shifting was not remembering anything. Usually the alphas were the only ones who remembered the entire shift, but that wasn’t the golden rule. Some Shifters blacked out right away, and others could remember a few seconds or minutes into their shift. After that, everything goes dark. And thank God for that. I couldn’t imagine trying to share headspace with my animal spirit. Sharing a body was excitement enough. Not to mention introducing our wolves to the pack. When Hope and I decided to move in together, our Packmasters facilitated a meeting between our wolves.
They got along famously.
Not long after, we found a cute little apartment in the Breed district. Since most of the people on our floor were Shifters, we didn’t have to worry about someone calling the cops because our wolves were howling. Once a week, when my wolf needed to run, I would go back home and shift on the property. My family lived only thirty minutes away, and they loved having me around. Sometimes my uncle Denver let his wolf run with mine. They were no longer my pack, but they would always be my family.
I glanced around at our grey walls, white crown molding, and eclectic artwork. We had fantastic space. The floor-to-ceiling windows on my left stretched all the way to the kitchen. A short pony wall ran from the left side to the end of the ki
tchen island. It seemed like a useless feature to divide the rooms since you could see over it, so Hope had set all her plants along the ledge.
The hot-pink couch was the centerpiece of the room—all the other furniture was a muted grey to match the walls. Pink accents throughout the room added pops of color, including a throw pillow, the painting behind me, and a vase on the corner table. The living room reflected my colorful personality—levelheaded with a dash of crazy. The kitchen on the far side of the room was all Hope, with its earthy color scheme and inviting atmosphere.
The front door suddenly opened. Hope tossed her keys on a small table, slammed the door, and darted down the hallway, which was on her immediate left.
“Everything okay with your mom?” I yelled. “There’s still a bunch of pizza left over. Do you want me to heat it up?”
No reply.
A few minutes and a toilet flush later, she emerged from the hall at a sluggish pace, having changed into a pair of sapphire-blue harem pants. Hope gravitated toward styles with a baggy crotch or a flared leg—anything that screamed comfort and obscured her feminine curves.
She plopped down on the sofa across from me and stared vacantly at the white coffee table between us. “Mel, I’m in real trouble.”
“Did you break the toilet again?”
When she didn’t smile, I sat up.
Hope tucked her hair behind her ears, her eyes downcast. “My supplier canceled the last shipment and refunded my money.”
I blinked in surprise. “He can’t do that! We’ve got over a hundred preorders and a store opening.”
“Apparently he can.” She sank back and drew her knees to her chest. “He wanted to double the price. I asked around, and because we didn’t have a contract, he’s within his rights. If I don’t secure a new supplier and get a shipment within a week, we’re toast.”
A cold feeling of dread washed over me. I stared through the window at the night sky, struggling to make sense of how someone could be such an unprofessional asshole. “We’ll just reach out to our customers. I’m sure they’ll understand.”
She threw her head back. “I’ve had time to think about this. We can’t afford to lose customers with bad first impressions. Our reputation is on the line, and you know how the packs talk. Some of them are dying to see us fail, just because their packs don’t get along with our former Packmasters.”
I launched to my feet and waved my arm. “Well, screw them if they can’t stand to see two women doing what they wished they could have done fifty years ago! I’m not about to be penalized for being ambitious. Some packs still sell moonshine for a living, and they want to judge us? The mind boggles.”
She attempted a smile but failed dismally. Her pensive expression reminded me so much of her father. We came from different backgrounds, and because of that, we worked well as a team. Hope was reserved and planned everything, whereas I was the risk-taker who made impulsive decisions. My father had once said I was a Van Morrison song—a free spirit who didn’t look before she leaped. Hope helped me look, and I helped her leap.
I sighed and folded my arms. “So what’s the backup plan?”
Her eyes remained closed. “That final shipment would have lasted me another six months, but now… I don’t know.” She pressed the heel of her hand against her forehead. “I have three potential dealers.”
“That’s great news!”
She rolled her head to look at me. “Tribes don’t negotiate over the phone. There’s no way I can meet with all three of them and still help with the store opening. Two of them are close, but the third one—he’s the most notable dealer in the country. Not many Shifter tribes deal in gemstones and precious metals. All the tribes respect him. The catch is he lives in Oklahoma.”
“Why’s that a problem? It’s not that far of a drive.”
“When I consulted my mother for advice earlier, she forbade me from going to Oklahoma.”
I sputtered with laughter. “Forbade? Are you kidding?”
Hope lifted her head. “My estranged grandfather lives there, and she doesn’t want me anywhere near his territory. I’m unclaimed by a pack, and she warned me that some of the packs up there are savages who take whatever they want. It’s not worth the risk.”
“Is the dealer in Oklahoma part of a pack, or is he a rogue?” I rounded the coffee table and switched on a lamp.
“Does it matter? He’s one of the best, Mel.”
“Just go. Maybe he’s not even a wolf. The only way we’ll earn the respect of people in this community is by standing on our own two feet.”
Hope put her feet on the ground and leaned forward. “Dang it. I know you’re right, but I made a promise, and I keep my promises.”
I strode toward her and sat on the coffee table. “Then I’ll go. You interview the other two prospects, and I’ll drive up to Oklahoma and work my magic. We can call each other and compare notes. You can make me a list of questions if there’s anything you want me to ask him. I’ve worked with you long enough that I know what you’re looking for and how to negotiate a deal.”
Her eyes glittered with tears. “You would do that? What will your parents say about you going off alone?”
I laughed and leaned back. “My parents are the most liberal people I know. Now that we’re on our own, we don’t answer to a Packmaster. It’s hard to get used to, but we don’t require anyone’s permission. That’ll change if we ever join a pack, but let’s make the most of it. You made a promise, and because of the whole family thing, I get it. But no one from my old pack is going to bat an eyelash. I’ve gone up there a few times on hunting trips, plus it’s only for a day or two.”
She clasped my hands in hers. “Everything’s going to work out. It has to! Can you believe we’re going to open our own boutique? A store called Moonglow, and we’re located on Starlight Road. That’s a good sign. The fates are watching over us.”
“Of course they are. We’re fashionista rock stars. Not everyone’s cut out to be a moonshine dealer.”
We laughed long and hard, laughter you can only share with your best friend. The kind that ends in tears, cramped stomachs, and embarrassing snorts. The kind that measures a friendship, reminding you just how unbreakable that bond really is.
Time was of the essence, and we were in survival mode. Hope had spoken with all three dealers on the phone and scheduled meetings, but that meant losing time needed to prepare for our grand opening. Somehow we had to race out of town, secure a deal, and haul ass to get back and set up the store.
The first thing we did was figure out transportation. Since Hope had to drive to San Antonio first then back up to Waco, I told her to keep the car we shared. That worked out for the best because borrowing one from her old pack would only raise questions, and we didn’t need the added stress of Lorenzo Church sticking his nose in our business. He was extremely protective of his daughter, and that would never change, whether she was twenty-four or six hundred. That was just the way alphas were. It was easier for me to borrow a car from my family without receiving the third degree.
When the doorbell rang, I finished changing into my pajamas and dashed down the hallway toward the front door. “Coming!”
Hope flattened her back against the wall as I rushed past her into the living room.
Out of breath, I swung the door open and looked up at a tall man with large brown curls. Uncle Will had the kind of messy hair that women swooned over, not that he ever noticed.
He held a set of keys between two fingers and jingled them. “May I ask what this clandestine meeting is about?”
I snatched the keys and stepped back to let him in. “Can I get you something to drink?”
The door closed behind him. “I would love some absinthe.”
“I see your sense of humor is still intact.” After padding into the kitchen, I pulled a bottle of root beer from the fridge. “Thanks for coming on short notice. Sorry to be all secretive about borrowing your car, but take a seat, and I’ll explain. And don’t wo
rry about paying for a cab to get home. That’s on me.”
Will swaggered over to our large kitchen island and sat down. After setting the bottle in front of him, I switched on the mosaic pendant lights, the soft glow from the three bulbs illuminating the granite countertop.
“How’s the family?” I asked, taking a seat across from him.
He popped the lid off his bottle, and a small cloud of moisture hovered on the rim. “Eager to attend your grand opening.”
“Well, they don’t have to come if they don’t want to. I mean, I’d love for them to come, but if they’re busy—”
“We’re coming. Do you think we would miss the most important day of your life? You seem more nervous than usual. Mustn’t worry. It’ll be fine.”
“It’s nerve-racking when it’s your own shop.”
He pushed his bottle forward and folded his arms on the counter. Uh-oh. I could sense the serious talk coming.
“Mel, you know I counsel packs. It’s what I do. Not just with Packmasters, but I help people create goals and work out problems. I want to take off my uncle hat for a minute. Anytime you need to talk privately to someone, my door is open. Whatever we talk about will remain confidential, just as it is with my paid clients. Moving out of a pack is a tough transition, but it’s an important test of one’s strength. The yearning to belong never diminishes. I’ve seen young women make decisions in haste—mating with men they didn’t love in order to be part of a pack again.”
I chuckled softly. “You don’t have to worry about that. I quit dating two years ago.”
Tension filled the room, and he furrowed his brow. “Did something happen?”
“No, it’s nothing like that.” I was hesitant about laying it all out.
He sensed my reluctance and eased forward with those kind eyes of his. “I won’t judge you.”
I peered around him to make sure Hope wasn’t in the room. “I grew up with two parents who have the most explosive chemistry on the planet. What’s the point of going through the motions of relationshipping when I don’t feel a fraction of that chemistry with any of the men I date? My parents set the bar unrealistically high, and I have serious doubts that there’s anyone out there who could make me feel that loved. Anyhow, I have too much going on with the business. Or maybe I’ll put off dating until I’m a hundred.”