Off the Beaten Path

by Cari Z

  Almost, but not quite. I couldn’t afford to back down now. Any sign of weakness, and this guy—Henry—would walk all over me. I’d be out on my ass with the rising sun, and I wouldn’t be getting back in.

  “But Ava is pack,” Sam said gently. She reached out and stroked both her hands down her brother’s arms. “And Ava needs help.”

  It wasn’t news to me, not after spending an hour interrogating Sam in her own living room, but the reminder still made me shiver. Ava hadn’t changed back. She wasn’t adapting―because she didn’t feel safe here, not enough to relax into her human form. The longer it took her to shift back, the harder the transition would be. Three months wasn’t the breaking point, Sam had assured me, but after another three, Ava might be a wolf for good. And werewolves who couldn’t shift back to human were put down.

  I watched, transfixed, as the gold finally faded from the alpha’s eyes. I couldn’t tell their color under the heaviness of his lids, though. He swayed on his feet, just a little, before shaking his head and pulling out of Sam’s grip.

  “We should talk,” Sam said. Her fingers twitched like they wanted to reel him back in. “I kept your dinner warm in the oven. Liam.” She looked at the silent guy standing in the door, his eyes as big as saucers. “Can you take Ward to the spare bedroom upstairs?” She turned to me and smiled reassuringly. “We’ll go to the clinic to see Ava in the morning.”

  “You swear?” She’d already promised me, but I wanted her to do it here, in the presence of her brother. I wanted him to see I had her support.

  “I swear.”

  Henry flinched. It wasn’t a big motion, barely noticeable, but Sam immediately reached for him again. He shied back from her hands. “Fine. Let’s get this done before I fall asleep on my feet.” He turned and walked out without another glance at me.

  Sam patted my shoulder reassuringly. “We’ll go right after breakfast tomorrow, okay?” Her tone was calm, even though she had a worried crease between her eyebrows.

  “Okay.” I nodded, and she followed her brother out of the room.

  Liam—her husband, I assumed—met my gaze. “Ah. May I, um. Take you upstairs?”

  The poor guy looked ready to jump out of his skin. Maybe literally—as a wolf, he could probably run away from all the drama a lot easier than as a human.

  “Sure,” I said.

  He glanced around the room. “Do you have a bag?”

  “I’m wearing everything I brought with me.”

  He murmured something in French, then gestured toward the hall. “Please, follow me.”

  Now that I felt more alive, I actually took the time to notice my surroundings as we climbed the stairs. The entire house was made of wood: thick, heavy beams polished to perfect smoothness inside. They were pale, not dark, and made the house seem light despite relatively few windows. The floors were uncarpeted, although there were area rugs here and there. The bedroom I was led to looked like it had been decorated sometime in the 1940s, with lavender-and-blue floral wallpaper, a quilted comforter over the double bed, and an antique wooden vanity with a little navy stool perched in front of it. There was a ponderous-looking set of drawers against one wall and a chest at the foot of the bed.

  “Is this acceptable?” Liam asked.

  “It’s fine.” I honestly didn’t care as long as I could lay my head down for a few hours. I would have happily slept on the couch if it meant seeing Ava sooner in the morning.

  “I’ll get you some clothes. Mine will be a bit long on you, but they’ll be better than Henry’s.”

  “You really don’t need to go to the trouble.”

  “Please. It’s….” Liam paused, like he wasn’t quite sure how to work out what he wanted to say. “We can smell you. Even in our human forms, our noses retain some of their lupine ability.”

  “So, I stink.” I wasn’t surprised. Despite the cold, I’d been sweating like a pig on some of the uphill parts of my trek.

  He shook his head. “Your natural odor isn’t the issue. It’s the fear you felt that is the sharpest scent. Smelling it tends to put us on edge.”

  Holy shit. “You can smell fear?”

  “And other strong emotions, but fear is the simplest. A shower would help.”

  I bet it would. “I can do that.” I wasn’t here to torment a bunch of werewolves just to convince them to give me my kid. A shower would probably make me feel better too.

  “Good.” He seemed relieved. “The bathroom is at the end of the hall. Take your time.” In other words, be thorough.

  “Got it.”

  I’d been expecting a tiny, utilitarian cubicle, not the enormous claw-foot tub on a heated floor. They might be werewolves, but they definitely had a hedonistic side. As soon as I saw the tub, it was like flipping a switch in my body. My clothes seemed to crawl across my skin, making me itch like I was having a reaction. Thank God, among the lengthy list of things I was allergic to, dog dander wasn’t one of them, or I’d be in real trouble when someone shifted.

  I turned on the shower, shucked my clothes onto the tiles, and climbed into the oversize tub. I could lie flat in the thing and barely touch my toes and head to the ends of it. I lay in the warm-not-hot water, as Sam had warned me against too much heat on my frostbitten fingers and toes, and shut my eyes. The pound of the water was incredibly relaxing, and I exhaled heavily, breathing a little easier through my scarred lungs.

  I was so close. So close to seeing my baby again. Just a few hours more.

  She might not remember you. That had been one of Sam’s warnings to me. Ava was young for the shift, and occasionally with small children, their memories were affected, especially in the case of a traumatic separation. It was possible that Ava, in either form, wouldn’t recognize me. I wanted to imagine that I was prepared for that, but really I knew that if I went to see her and she didn’t know me, it would rip my fucking heart right open.

  It didn’t matter, though. If that happened, I’d just have to stick around until she did remember me. I wasn’t going to let them send me away. Sam was on my side. I knew it. She’d help me with her brother.

  Although from the look of him, he needed plenty of help himself. I knew he was military; most alpha werewolves were, according to Davis. Sometimes betas were called upon as well, or joined up voluntarily, but for alphas service wasn’t optional. They were given the roughest assignments, the things that normal people couldn’t do. Deep infiltration, covert operations, assassinations… the worst jobs went to werewolves. And however I felt about Henry Dormer, he was clearly coming off of a really bad job.

  Having his sister on my side was good, but the only one who had the leverage to fight for me to stay here legally was the alpha himself. I needed to make his life easier. I needed to get him in my corner, however I could. There had to be some sort of work I could do here, some way I could improve life for the pack. I’d ask about it tomorrow, after I saw my daughter.

  I almost fell asleep under the spray it was so soothing. Eventually I turned the water off and hauled myself out of the bath, only to find my clothes gone, an oversize terry-cloth robe left in their place. The idea that someone else had been in the bathroom while I was using it wasn’t pleasant, but I couldn’t deny being grateful I wasn’t going to have to put my grimy things on again. I made my way back to the bedroom without seeing anyone and found a pair of wool socks, flannel sleep pants, and a long-sleeved henley.

  Huh. Looked like I’d be going commando.

  The clothes were on the large side but comfortable. I had just enough energy to turn off the bedside lamp and crawl under the quilt before I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. I dreamed my daughter was calling for me and woke up over and over again to nothing but the sound of my own gasps.

  Morning couldn’t come soon enough.

  Chapter Four

  Henry

  MY FIRST night back in my house I spent sitting on the floor outside the guest bedroom.

  Not the whole night. The first part of the evening
was spent confronting a madman with no common sense or boundaries, and the next part consisted of my sister and me whisper-shouting at each other in the kitchen over her supporting him.

  “Are you out of your mind? You know that no one who hasn’t been cleared by Homeland Security is allowed on the reserve.” The kitchen was on the small side for me to pace in, but I was too on edge to sit down in the chair Sam pointedly pulled out for me.

  “He was dying of the cold, literally dying, Henry.” Sam sounded exasperated. “What was I supposed to do, leave him on the wrong side of the fence?”

  “You could have called John and let him take care of it. It’s his actual fucking job.”

  “John would have turned him over to the feds.”

  “That’s exactly what should be done!”

  My sister pointed a finger at me. “Absolutely not. Ward isn’t a criminal. He’s a concerned father. He doesn’t deserve to be put away in a penitentiary for caring about his child.”

  “He does if it involves infiltrating what’s supposed to be a secret location.” If our pack was no longer secure here, I was going to raise hell with the powers that be. “And are you sure he is who he says he is?”

  Sam rolled her eyes. “No, because I’m a complete moron. Of course I checked his identity. He’s exactly who he says he is: Ward Johannsen, thirty-one, professor of physics at a community college in San Francisco. He was never married, and Ava is his only child.”

  “Maybe he is.” And that was still a maybe as far as I was concerned. “But if that’s true, then he had help finding this place. The man should be interrogated, not given a cup of cocoa and a pat on the head.”

  “Henry James Dormer.” Sam sounded exactly like our mother in that instant, as sharp and vicious as a mouthful of fangs at your throat. “If you ever again suggest to me that a civilian—no, not just a civilian, anyone at all—deserves to be interrogated for risking their lives for the sake of their child, you and I will have a real problem.”

  “We already have a problem.” Even as I said it, I felt my will to fight ebb away. God, I was so tired. “He’s taking a shower as we speak.”

  “Henry.” Sam got up from the table and came around to me. When she tried to take my hands this time, I let her. “Things will look better in the morning. You’re still coming down from your mission, but you’re here now, you’re home. You can relax, I promise.” She smiled her quirky little half smile, the one she saved just for family. “I’ve got your back.”

  No, you don’t. I didn’t say it, but I knew she could see it in my eyes―my new reluctance to rely on her, to share everything with her the way I used to. Sam dropped my hands and turned away, busying herself with pulling my plate out of the oven, while I tried to get a handle on my fucking face. She didn’t say anything, but you didn’t have to be a werewolf to sense the newfound tension in the room.

  Shit. I didn’t want to hurt her, but I couldn’t stop myself. We had known things would change after she married Liam; marriage changed everything. Sam’s heart belonged to him now. She insisted that her heart was big enough for both of us, for all of the pack, but it was different. We’d been too close for too long, the two of us against the world, fighting for control of the pack after our parents died. We’d fought, and we’d won. The pack meant home, but Sam had always been the center of my personal pack, half of my own heartbeat.

  When she’d gone away to graduate school last year, it had felt like any other departure: painful but ultimately temporary. Then she’d come back, and she’d brought Liam with her. Liam, who was shiny and new, angelically blond, and temptingly different. Liam who was a werewolf, but who had grown up in the human world. Liam who adored my sister, but whose nervousness around me made me want to snarl at him.

  I never expected to marry. Somehow, selfishly, I’d thought Sam would end up the same way.

  I tried not to resent him. Liam was good for my sister. He didn’t care that she was human, while her humanity was a definite strike against her in a traditional American pack, for all that ours was fairly progressive. He saw her brilliance and appreciated her sense of humor. He understood her priorities, enough that the idea of the two of them relocating to Canada had never even been in the running. Sam belonged in Colorado, in La Garita pack, and Liam belonged with her. He was her other half now. The rest of the pack would have to be enough for me.

  “Henry.” I didn’t even notice her approach me. I was so lost in my own thoughts. That was dangerous. “Come and eat, okay? Take Ward to see Ava in the morning. If his being here can do her some good, then we might be able to spin this in our favor. I’ll make some calls.”

  I nodded tiredly, then sat down at the table. The meal was pure comfort food: bison meatloaf, mushrooms sautéed in butter, and mashed potatoes so full of cream they might as well have come straight out of the cow. Sam had even made a salad, not normally one of my favorite foods, but fresh vegetables were something I tended to crave for a while after a mission. Usually I would have inhaled it. Tonight it was all I could do to lift my fork to my mouth, and I gave up on finishing it half a plate in.

  “It’s delicious, but I’m going to face-plant onto the table in another minute,” I said to Sam, who looked serene but smelled worried. “I’ll put it in the fridge, polish it off later. Thanks for cooking.”

  “You’re welcome. It’s your turn tomorrow night.”

  “Whatever you want.” I smiled for her, and it hardly hurt at all. I was glad to see my sister after so long. I truly was. But I already knew I wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight―not with a stranger in my home. That was no reason for her to stay up, though. “Liam’s waiting for you. You should turn in.”

  She sighed quietly. “Fine.” She stood reluctantly, and as she passed me, she bent over and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, hugging me tight. I closed my eyes and let her scent settle me, as well as it could. Sam still meant home, in all the ways that counted. She might not be my home anymore, but that wasn’t her fault. I shouldn’t have relied so much on her after our parents died. I didn’t know how to share her, and rather than let my wolf go after Liam like it wanted, I encouraged it to push her away instead.

  “I love you.”

  “Love you too.” I looked at her as she straightened up. “Sleep well.”

  “You too.” Sam poked me gently in the chest. “I mean it. You’ve got no reason to stay up tonight. You need the rest.”

  “Yeah, I hear you.” I heard, but that didn’t mean I was going to obey. Sam had brought a stranger into the house, and she expected me to sleep? I’d sooner cut one of my own hands off.

  In a way, though, Sam was right. Ward was ridiculously easy to keep tabs on. He didn’t even try to mask his noises the way most people in the pack did. I heard every scuff of his feet, when he fumbled for the soap at the sink, the tired sigh that escaped his lips as he got into bed. I listened downstairs for a while, and once he was asleep, I headed up to my room. A quick shower left me feeling rejuvenated enough to try meditating. When I couldn’t sleep, sometimes mediation could get me by for a few days, and it wouldn’t affect my hearing. I settled in a lotus position on the mat on my floor and took a few deep breaths, closing my eyes and trying to focus on the movement of the air inside of my lungs.

  “Nuh.”

  My eyes shot open. I was on my feet and down the hall in a second, stopping myself just outside the guest room door. Who was he talking to? Did he have a phone? Was he contacting someone who might—?

  “Mmmno.”

  Ward’s voice was still slurred with sleep. Oh. He was dreaming. And from the sounds of it, he wasn’t having a pleasant dream.

  “Mmm, no, nobabyno—” A second later he gasped, and I heard the bedsprings creak as he suddenly sat up, a cough filtering through his throat as he tried to catch his breath. “Shit,” he whispered after a moment. “Shit.”

  I waited to see what he would do. Was he a pacer like me? Would he need to go and get a glass of water? I could be down the hall a
nd out of sight in a few soundless seconds―he’d never know I was here now, listening to the aftermath of his nightmares.

  Instead of getting up, he burrowed deeper under the blanket—Great Aunt Molly’s quilt, if the rustling scratch of the fabric was anything to go by—and with a determined grind of his teeth, settled in to try to sleep again. I stood in the darkness of the hall, utterly silent, waiting to see if sleep would stick this time around. Five minutes. Ten. His breathing was regular again, if shallow, and I found myself breathing along with him for some reason. Fifteen minutes. I could leave, go back to my room, and continue my meditation. Listen from a distance. It was the safe thing to do.

  Ward’s breath caught in his throat. He whimpered, and a moment later he jolted awake again. Something like a sob emerged from the darkness, and for some reason hearing it made me want to whine in sympathy. It wasn’t a healthy impulse, but I couldn’t quite quell it or make myself leave. He smelled like utter misery, something I was full to the brim with already.

  I should have left him then. I needed to leave and go to the cold, safe company of my own stale sheets. Instead I listened to Ward gentle himself again, gradually drift off into an uncomfortable doze. I sat silently against the wall, my ear tuned to the crack in the door, and kept breathing at his pace, futilely willing it to slow down, to deepen. If he were pack, he would have felt my presence. I could have comforted him.

  Of course he didn’t feel me, and we got no comfort from each other. I didn’t leave, though, compelled by my sense of duty to look after him through the night. He didn’t seem like the healthiest human. There was no telling what hell might rain down on us if he died of pneumonia while on the reserve, at least not until we knew how he found us.

  Ward Johannsen woke up three more times that night, and I was there for every second of it. By the time he swore tiredly and gave it up for a lost cause, I was already downstairs making a fresh pot of coffee. It was just starting to get light out, and usually Sam would be up by now, but despite the soundproofing in their bedroom, I knew that she and Liam had had an enthusiastic night and probably needed their sleep. I contemplated getting a start on breakfast, but in the end decided coffee was enough. I wasn’t hungry, and besides, I didn’t want to seem too welcoming. As far as I was concerned, the endgame wasn’t any different.