Wolf Roulette: Supernatural Battle

by Kelly St Clare

  I held up the second piece of paper. “Of the tribe, 71 percent are in favour of working with the pack to fill grid positions, now and in the future.”

  This was excellent news.

  Cameron once said that people found it hard to hate someone they knew.

  I was banking on it. “Enough business for one night. Go forth and celebrate.”

  Tomorrow, we had work to do.

  19

  Greyson is cramping my style, Booker snapped. A female wolf needs to run as though no one’s watching.

  They did?

  Sascha’s wolf circled us from afar and had been for an hour. He’s trying to figure out how to bite us.

  Honestly, I would’ve just let him, but my wolf wasn’t on the same page. Greyson had his work cut out for him.

  He should give up. She growled. Bad hunter. Puny strength.

  Booker leaped over a stream, careful not to get a single drop on our fur.

  Greyson stopped, and she paused, too, until he resumed his steady pace.

  Time spent in the passenger seat of a wolf body had taught me about a wolf’s hunting habits. Booker rarely broke from her loping pace, instead opting to follow prey at a distance. If the prey let her get close enough, she’d break into a run to close the gap. Otherwise, she gave up the chase after exerting mild effort.

  So far, she’d always let anything she caught go—thank fuck.

  Do you think Greyson will only chase us if he gets closer? I asked her.

  She leaped over a fallen tree. Not if he uses our pack.

  What did you just say?

  His pack.

  That’s not what she’d said. You said our pack! Booker accepted Wade, but that was about it. She tolerated Cameron, hated Rhona, thought Pascal would do, and otherwise preferred to think of others as cardiac muscle delicacies.

  This was ground-breaking.

  When did that happen? I asked.

  Her horror seeped to me. I don’t know.

  I bit back on laughter. Claiming others would genuinely upset her. It doesn’t have to change anything. I won’t tell the pack you like them. Or Sascha and Greyson unless you tell me it’s okay.

  It comes with consequences.

  Like?

  Booker sighed. Take a look. It’s already happened.

  She sat back on our haunches.

  I noticed the tiny pressure on my mind. Slight pressures.

  Warm.

  Six of them.

  What are those? I asked. The pressure was tugging me gently, a piece of string I could follow to the other end.

  She grumbled, The pack.

  What? You’re joking me.

  Am I a comedian?

  For the record, I’d watch a wolf comedian. This happened just because you accepted the pack as yours?

  She snarled.

  Were we still denying that? So six of the pack are currently in four-legged form in addition to Sascha? His presence still occupied the space under my ribs. Is there anything else we can do?

  I can talk to any shifted pack member while in four-legged form. But I’m not talking to them. I don’t care if you want me to.

  You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want, I murmured. Can I talk to them too?

  Just me.

  Booker’s view was clear, but the link to the pack intrigued me. We could check in on some of the women. Axel too. Can they access our thoughts?

  That wasn’t how it worked with Sascha, but I should check. Because… potential disaster if so.

  Only what I tell them. Greyson can address all shifted pack members at once. His head team can deliver orders to those of their status. Currently, I could address all shifted females, but only as his mate could I speak to the entire pack at once.

  There was an edge in her voice.

  She was freaking out.

  Can the pack feel us too?

  If they take the trouble to look.

  Then how about we shift back and keep this news to ourselves for a little longer?

  Booker launched into one of her rare sprints and only slowed to trot through the manor grounds. She tilted her head to allow one of the gardeners to scratch her behind the ear.

  “Hey, Andie,” Roderick said around a mouthful of toast in the hall. “See you at eight.”

  I yipped in response.

  Booker continued to the kitchen. The staff had set aside a plate of bacon and one of them left their station to hand feed us. Certain high-maintenance wolves refused to eat off the floor.

  We shifted in our room. I checked my jeans and T-shirt combo in the mirror, and a strange contentedness filled me. For the first time since returning to tribal lands, things felt normal.

  Things felt good.

  The stewards in the manor were mostly accustomed to Booker’s presence. With two grid wins—and one of them a turnover—in the bag, I’d once again proved my ability to do the job.

  Knock, knock.

  “Head Steward?”

  The head gardener stood in the doorway of my room.

  “Marty, can I help you?”

  “There’s… well, best come look.”

  I followed him outside.

  Ah, fuck me.

  A blue pickup truck was lodged halfway through a garden bed. Sascha’s pickup truck.

  Booker inhaled.

  Essie the bacon sandwich thief.

  I bit back a groan. “It’s another young Luther. Please tell everyone there’s no cause for alarm.”

  I crossed the lawn, eyeing the ripped-up grass where she’d lost control of the truck. Essie couldn’t be more than fourteen, and she’d stolen and crashed the pack leader’s vehicle.

  I sighed.

  She wasn’t by the pickup. I tracked her to the trees behind the crash scene.

  You taught her to escape to the trees, Booker said proudly.

  That’s when she was stealing food. Perhaps I’d encouraged this. Oops.

  “Essie, it’s okay. Come out.” I listened to her sobs and sniffs.

  The young teen left her hiding place and approached me barefoot, clutching her tear-streaked cheeks.

  I looked her over. “Are you hurt?”

  She gulped back another sob and shook her head.

  “We better go inside then.” Arm around her shoulders, I led her to the manor. The gardeners looked on, but I guess a teenage Luther crashing a truck was less exciting than a baby Luther waddling onto manor grounds.

  I sat her down on a kitchen bench and perched beside her.

  The staff quietened, glancing at us.

  Essie wiped her face. “I was doing okay until the end.”

  My lips trembled. Don’t laugh. Damn, she could smell it anyway. “You drove all the way from pack lands?”

  She nodded. “Mr Greyson wasn’t using his truck today. I heard him say so. And I wanted to talk to you about something. I thought I could get back in time.”

  “Are you hungry, dear?” Detta cut in.

  The Luther’s face brightened. The cook delivered a cinnamon scroll.

  Why did I bother? “What did you want to talk with me about, Essie?”

  “Everyone treats me like a baby, but I’m not the baby anymore—Axel is. I’m sick of people expecting me to always do the wrong thing. Why should I do the right thing when they don’t think I can?”

  Ah… I wasn’t a parent. Not even close. How should I handle this one?

  I brushed my hair back. “Have you told your parents you feel this way?”

  “They don’t listen.”

  “Maybe there’s a way to make them listen?”

  She narrowed her gaze. “Like what?”

  “Well, when you normally talk to them, what do you do?”

  “They yell at me and I yell back.”

  I pursed my lips. “What do you think when they yell at you?”

  Essie cast me an exasperated look. “Okay, I get it. Talk about things when no one’s yelling.”

  I exchanged an amused look with the smiling kitchen staf
f.

  Once the teen had finished her scroll, I spoke again. “Essie, I understand you want people to treat you your age rather than someone of Axel’s age. Try to remember that most of the pack are far older than you. Hundreds of years older. They love you, but they may have forgotten how they felt at your age. Speak calmly, and they’ll be more inclined to listen.”

  The Luther sniffed. “Okay.”

  I squared my shoulders. “Earning people’s respect requires treating people with respect. Today, you stole a truck and crashed it. I’m sure you realise there will be consequences.”

  She swallowed. “He’s going to be angry at me.”

  “Probably. How would you feel if someone broke something of yours? Maybe there was another way to talk with me. What do you think?”

  The teenager sighed. “Phone.”

  “That’s right. You know that for next time, but now, it’s time to face the music.” I handed her my phone. “You need to call, uh, Mr Greyson, and then you’ll need to contact Evelyn so she can let your parents know where you’ve been.”

  Blood drained from her face as she took the phone.

  “You can take the call outside if you prefer,” I offered.

  Watching her leave, I nicked a scroll for myself and grinned with the cooks. Part of me had to applaud Essie’s guts.

  No way would I have nicked Alexei’s car at her age.

  I waited a few minutes before joining her.

  She was crying, and after briefly listening to Sascha’s deep voice on the other end, I left her to it.

  The gardeners were trying to extract the pickup from a low hedge. Bending my knees, I lifted up one end of the truck and waited for them to scramble back before swinging the nose around and lowering it to the ground.

  Essie passed me the phone. “Evelyn wants to speak with you.”

  I pressed the speaker to my ear. “Hey.”

  “Our apologies once again, Andie.”

  “It’s no trouble. There is some damage to the garden though.”

  “We’ll help to restore it,” she said. “A couple of our male betas are on the way over with a tow truck. Do they have permission to enter tribal lands without penalty?”

  My original offer extended to the women and children of the pack. But… the males were only coming because of a child of the pack. “Yes. That’s okay.”

  Word spread yet again. Our Timber workers were already at the mill, but Sandstone stewards were waiting to begin employment with the Luthers next Monday. Soon, we had a crowd of them.

  The teen gripped my hand when the tow truck arrived.

  Hairy exited the vehicle with another werewolf I’d seen around.

  “Essie.” Hairy crouched down.

  She leaped at him and wrapped her arms around his neck. He patted her back and held her as the other beta picked up Sascha’s ride by himself and placed it on the tray.

  Hairy glanced at me. “Thanks, Andie. This is becoming a habit.”

  Looked like it. “Not a problem. Essie?” I waited until she looked up. “You’re always welcome to phone me if you need to talk. But I don’t want to hear about you stealing cars again.” Stick to bacon sandwiches.

  “I won’t,” she whispered.

  I like this one, Booker told me.

  I blinked. She did? That was almost revolutionary.

  “Is it okay to come back with a few workers to clean up the damage this evening?” Hairy asked.

  “I’m sure our gardeners would appreciate that.” After waving over Marty, I left the pair to discuss what would be needed.

  The Luthers left soon after, and I faced the crowd of stewards, bracing myself for the inevitable questions.

  Why are young Luthers coming here to see you?

  The stewards couldn’t start to think that my sentiments for the pack were influencing my choices. I could walk a blurred line, but I had to be very careful until both sides warmed up.

  I checked the time.

  Crap, I’d missed the meeting with the head team. Glancing at the manor, I caught them watching from the meeting room window.

  Some days just didn’t go the way I planned.

  That’s what I get for celebrating the normalcy of today, I said to Booker.

  She ignored me.

  Shocked gasps rang out from the gathered stewards. I frowned. What did I do?

  They pointed over my shoulder.

  You’re kidding me? Who was it this time? Turning, I resigned myself to a morning of tiny dramas.

  My feet froze to the ground as a silver Bentley drove into view.

  Air lodged in my throat.

  “It is her,” someone exclaimed.

  My mouth dried.

  Rhona was back.

  20

  I stared at the ceiling of my room. The day had blurred by, and I could barely recall anything that happened.

  “What’s the plan?” Wade lay on the bed beside me.

  About that. “Have you heard any more?”

  “Not since ten seconds ago.”

  Rhona was staying with Foley in the cabin he usually shared with Billy. Billy had wisely elected to stay with Laura.

  “I still can’t believe she came back.”

  “That’s what you said twenty seconds ago.”

  “Okay, but part of me really didn’t think she’d find it within herself to return.”

  Rhona somehow found the courage to return, and that put me in danger of hoping for change between us. The thought could be disastrous. Rhona could just as easily be here to reclaim head stewardship.

  My phone rang. “Hey, Pascal.”

  “Andie. A quick call to inform you that the head team visited Rhona ten minutes ago. We’ve made it clear a return to her position as head steward will not be possible.”

  They’d moved fast. “I appreciate you clearing that up.”

  That set the tone for Rhona’s return, but what should I say to her? Should I wait for her to approach me or go to her myself?

  I had to do better than last time.

  That felt possible now all my secrets were out in the open.

  “Rhona seems uncertain and not at all like the last time we saw her. Time will tell whether she has truly reflected on her behaviour.”

  My sister had proved innovative in the past. “I appreciate the update.”

  I hung up and thumped my head on the mattress. “I was literally walking through the halls today feeling great because things had settled down. This will stir the pot again.”

  Wade rolled toward me. “If you don’t stir the pot, the food gets burned.”

  I scrunched my face. “Is there a deeper lesson in that?”

  “I thought there might be, but it didn’t work out.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Remind me to use a different analogy next time.”

  “In all seriousness, people are mad at her, baby girl. She kicked you out. We didn’t have a say in the matter. Then, Rhona lost our grids. Then, she left us high and dry in our final hour. Between you being a Luther and Rhona being a selfish idiot, I’d say far more people are pissed at her.”

  She could still cause shit. “Last time, I tried to rise above her actions and that didn’t work. But what if she wants a relationship with me at some point? Should that possibility change how I approach her?”

  “I would have ditched her after the pro-violence rally, but I’m not you. Want some advice?”

  “Please.”

  “You don’t let many people in. When you do, you open all the way. But it’s important to know your boundaries for people you love too. That way, you won’t make a compromise you can’t sustain. It may mean a bit of hurt now for less hurt down the road, you get me?”

  I did.

  “You should have your own talk show, my friend.”

  The sister doesn’t deserve you, Booker snarled.

  Maybe she didn’t. We need to go for a run. The new moon was on Saturday, and today had proved an emotional test.

  I nudged Wade. “Want to hang t
onight? I’ll be back in an hour. Maybe see what Cam’s up to as well?”

  Wade inspected his nails. “Sounds good. Only if I can pick your outfit, and I insist on doing your hair and make-up.”

  I frowned. “Really?”

  “No, not really. Stop stereotyping me.”

  Laughing, I shoved him and left the room.

  I’d shift in the trees tonight.

  The elastic band under my ribs loosened as I reached the bottom floor. I stopped short.

  Sascha was here?

  Picking up speed, I exited the manor in time to see two pickups roll into view. Gardening supplies filled the back trays.

  A shirtless Sascha, clad in dark jeans, exited the front vehicle. My libido was manageable when I prepared myself for his company, but when he sprung surprise visits on me like this…

  I was so screwed.

  There weren’t words for how much I wanted him.

  Forcing my legs to be stronger than a newborn deer’s, I crossed toward the workers. Hairy was there again, with three others.

  Then there was Sascha.

  “Hey,” I grunted.

  Hairy grinned.

  Ugh.

  Sascha ambled toward me, shovel in hand. “Mate. We’re here to clear up the mess.”

  “I guess you didn’t want to get your shirt dirty.” I winced as the words left my mouth.

  His smile grew larger by the second. “My thoughts exactly.”

  Our lust tangled together until there was more than one grinning werewolf in the vicinity.

  I dragged my feet back a few steps. “Right. I’ll leave you to it.”

  “I begged Hairy to let me come. Why not stay and keep me company?”

  “The new moon is making me antsy. And Rhona’s back. I need to run.”

  Sascha tensed. “Rhona returned? When?”

  “Not long after Essie crashed your truck. I haven’t spoken with her yet, but I need to.”

  He glanced at the others. “I’ll come for a run with you. We can talk it over.”

  Sascha managed hundreds of wolves and made so many different statuses work in harmony. “I’d like that, but Booker will be pissed if I let Greyson get too close. With the bite meet and all.”

  He couldn’t bite me if he tried!

  “She’s making him work for it?” He leaned on the shovel.