by T. S. Joyce
Grey’s chair screeched across the floor. The smell of coffee filled the kitchen as Grey poured another cup. He had to have known she was here. Surely, if he wanted her in there with him, he would have called her in. The smell of coffee mixed with anger. Couldn’t his father sense the danger?
“Don’t worry, Grant—”
“Quit calling me that. I’m your father.”
“I have a job. It’s something I enjoy, and it looks as if I will be able to make more money at it than at my last job.”
“Oh yeah? What do you do?”
“Nothing you would care about or understand.” Grey sat back down at the table, and his slow breath sounded as he blew on hot coffee.
The air was charged, and the silence deafening. “I heard something that disturbed me greatly,” his father said.
“Ah, here we go. Okay, and what is that, Dad?”
“I heard you are living with a woman. I had my people look into her. Single parent whose house was a rat hole? She practically lived in a box before she moved into your home. I think you may have jumped in over your head, son. This reeks a little too much of what I went through with your mother. She’s a gold digger.”
“Not that it matters because she is independent and runs her own business, but Morgan didn’t even know I had money until after we were engaged,” Grey growled out. His teeth snapped together audibly at the end.
That was her cue. Preferably, before Wolf tore his father to shreds all over her nice clean kitchen. She rushed in with a bag of groceries still clutched in her hand.
“Hey, babe,” she said, giving Grant-the-Dickhole-Crawford her back. She planted a kiss on Grey’s mouth and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, I’m late.”
She dropped the paper bag and turned to Grant with her hand outstretched. She didn’t even try to be genuine when she smiled. “Morgan Crawford. I’m Grey’s wife.”
Her hand lingered in the air as his face went blank with surprise. Eyes narrowed at her, he shook it as if it was a wet fish. He was a handsome man, tall and trim, but that was about where the similarities stopped between Grant and his son. Grey must have taken after his mother. Small blessings.
She released him and wiped her hand on her jeans. “We would have invited you to the wedding, but Grey assured us you were a prick.”
Grey snorted and spat coffee onto the table. He cleared his throat to cover a bark of a laugh, but the smile lingered at the edge of his lips. Lana barreled into the kitchen, and Marissa leaned lazily against the wall with a smirk on her face.
“Dad, Dad! Hey Daddy!” Lana jumped up and down. “Look what Morgan got me,” she said, shaking a half-eaten bag of gummy worms at him.
He covered his surprise with a smile that burrowed into his eyes. “I love gummy worms. You want to share one with me?”
She nodded and plunked one into his mouth. “Good little baby bird,” she crooned and petted his hair. The tight corners of his eyes loosened and he hugged her close, leaned back in his chair. Lana had an uncanny ability to bring out a glimpse of the mushy, sweet center in Wolf.
Grant sat there with eyes the size of flying saucers as Morgan rifled through the grocery bag, separating ingredients she would be using to make dinner. Lana had taken Grey’s sunglasses off and was trying to put them on herself.
Grant leaned over the table. “This is all real sweet, Grey, but this was always going to happen. You were always going to get taken advantage of because you’re too dumb to protect yourself.”
“Have you ever been happy?” Grey asked softly, looking down at Lana with an absent smile.
“Money is happiness.”
“No, it’s not. Money is money. Money is a means to buy things. Money is a way to build more money, but did you ever think of spending it on someone other than you?”
“Yes,” Grant said through clenched teeth. “You.”
“Nah. You were going to pay me to be your puppet, and turn me into you.”
Grey lifted steady blue eyes up to Grant.
“You were always too much like your mother.”
“How many times in my life did you called me weak?”
His father looked horrified and shook his head, unable to take his eyes from Grey’s.
“Hundreds of times, Grant. I can’t recall a single kind or supportive thing you ever said to me.” He tilted his chin toward Lana and kissed her on top of the head. “When I became a step-dad, I was terrified, because I didn’t want to be like you. That was my biggest fear—ending up anything like you. But now when I look back on how you raised me, and berated me, and scared me, and bullied me, I feel lucky. Do you know why?” Grey shrugged. “Because you gave me an exact roadmap of what not to do. I don’t want your companies. I don’t want to ever see you again.”
“You’ll run out of money maintaining a property like this—”
“I’m working. I’m paying bills as we go along and I put the rest away for a nest egg. I don’t want your money.”
“But—”
Grey snarled a terrifying sound and he leaned forward, his eyes blazing gold. “I said…I don’t…want…your money.”
Lana snapped her little fingers and got an attitude. “He don’t want your money.”
Morgan pursed her lips against a laugh. Okay, that was awesome. Get him Lana.
“What’s wrong with your eyes?” his dad whispered.
Grey stood slowly.
“Run, Grant,” she advised out of the corner of her mouth.
“Well, look at you.” Grant backed up a step but lifted his chin primly. “Finally grew a backbone. You’re welcome.”
Oh, hang first impressions. She couldn’t imagine them hosting family picnics together anyway. “I do believe he got all the good stuff from his mother. Credit where credit is due. Now, I have a dinner to prepare.” She smiled brightly. “I would ask you to stay over, but you called me a gold digger. I’ll walk you out. Please feel free to never show up unannounced again.”
Grey gave his father an altogether unfriendly smile. “You heard my wife. See you later, Grant.”
Morgan ushered Grant out to the front door, and leaned on the open doorframe as he walked across the front porch. “You know, you really should be proud of him.”
“For what?” Grant asked, turning around. His eyes held hatred, and that was it. He didn’t even have smile lines, and inside, Morgan’s wolf rankled.
“For turning into such a great husband and father despite his upbringing. He’s happy, Mr. Crawford. That’s what any parent should want for their child.”
“What’s wrong with him? His eyes, and the way he was talking—”
She feigned bewildered. “Whatever do you mean, Mr. Crawford?”
“This isn’t over,” he said low. “I know you’re a money hunting little bitch. I don’t know what you’ve done to him, but he will come back to me.”
Morgan snarled and closed the space between them. “Call me a bitch again,” she dared him.
He backed up, then stumbled down the stairs. Pointing at her, he said, “There’s something wrong with you. There’s something wrong.”
She smiled and waved her fingers as he pulled away. “Don’t get in a car wreck,” she called out.
Lana came up and hugged her legs from behind, and she scooped her up and tickled her. Marissa came to stand right beside her and watched Mr. Crawford’s car disappear into the woods.
“Did you tell her to call him Daddy?” Morgan asked Marissa amusedly as Lana settled in her arms.
There wasn’t a single fig of remorse in Marissa’s voice. “Yeah.”
“I think you just made Grey very happy,” Morgan said, nuzzling Lana’s nose with hers.
“He did good not murdering his dad,” Marissa said.
“Seriously. That was the most control I’ve ever seen him have.”
When they went back inside, Lana bounded back into the kitchen and climbed into Grey’s lap.
Grey hugged Lana closely but his stare was a hundred miles away.
Morgan rubbed his shoulders, but the tension there didn’t budge. “Are you all right?”
Grey nodded. “I could use a run.”
“Whatever you need, alpha,” Morgan purred.
“Mmmm, say that again.”
“Alpha.”
“You two are weird,” Marissa muttered. “Come on, Lana. Let’s color another page in your new book.”
“I’ll be back in time for dinner,” Grey told her.
She squeezed his hand as he passed, and he kissed her lightly on the forehead. His lips lingered there before he left.
Besides the cooking sounds and the scratch of the pencil and crayons as Lana worked away at the table, there was no reason for the hairs on the back of Morgan’s neck to stand on end. She stopped cutting squash for the second time and listened for the sound of a car engine. Silence outside except for the wood sounds.
Marissa jerked her head toward the front door and frowned. It was enough. She wasn’t crazy.
“Do you hear something?” she asked.
Marissa shook her head slowly. “Not exactly. I don’t hear anything but my wolf is uneasy.” Her eyes had lightened to a soft gray.
Morgan stuffed the knife into the back of her jeans and looked out the front window beside the door. Marissa held Lana and looked out the window on the other side.
There, on the edge of the field was a movement. Her instincts screamed to run but she held her ground. A man strode out of the woods with a grace so smooth, he couldn’t be human. He disappeared into a mist of deep, purple smoke and reappeared much closer.
Oh shit. He wasn’t a werewolf either.
“Marissa, get to the safe room. Now!”
Morgan took Lana from Marissa’s arms and bolted up the stairs behind her. Her heart was in her ears. There was no way to get in touch with Grey while he was Wolf. Their best chance at survival was running the woods somewhere as a huge black wolf. No help. It was up to her to keep them safe.
Marissa slapped the secret latch behind Lana’s dresser, and they scrambled into the hidden room.
“I’m scared,” Lana whispered.
“Baby,” Morgan cooed as the door closed behind them. “We’re okay. Just playing a game is all. The quietest wins, so be still. Be quiet and we’ll get you treats when the game is through.”
“Should I change?” Marissa said. Her panic tainted the air.
“Not enough time and too loud.”
“Daddy?” the girl asked with wide eyes.
Morgan shook her head and put her finger to her lips. Marissa retreated to the corner of the room behind a bookshelf and Lana scrambled in her lap. Morgan stood beside the door and pulled the knife from the back of her jeans. The blade nicked her skin, but the pain was a small reminder that she was still alive. The hum of the light bulb was deafening so she leaned forward and turned it off. A tiny clink of the cord preceded the silence. Lana whimpered, but the soft noise of Marissa stroking her hair quieted her down. The moments dragged on for hours. Maybe he wouldn’t find them. That had been the point of the safe room after all. To keep them hidden. Maybe he would knock on the door and decide no one was home.
The bedroom door creaked as it opened. Fear seized her and she held her breath. Okay, maybe he would leave the room once he saw no one was there. A long nail scratched down the length of the wall they hid behind. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed and prayed.
Scraaaaaaatch.
All the way around the room he went. The door creaked again as the stalker left, and she exhaled slowly against her burning lungs. The latch clicked. She swallowed a scream as the hidden door flew open.
She arced the knife through the air at his face, but the man caught her wrist. With a tiny and effortless flick of his fingers, he crushed her arm until it felt like her bones were being ground to dust.
His other hand flew to her neck and cut off all oxygen to her already straining lungs. He turned on the light and gave her a soulless smile.
“Aim for the heart, my dear,” he said with a faint British accent. “And with a wooden stake.” He studied her. “Lovely eyes. Purple?”
He lifted her off the floor. Morgan’s feet dangled a foot above it as she scrabbled at his immoveable grip, and desperately tried to drag air into her lungs.
He looked like he was in his mid-twenties, but he felt and spoke much older. His real age was a mystery. He had dark brown hair that was thick and spiked near his forehead. His eyes were a bottomless hazel color and his skin white as snow. She’d never been so scared of anyone before.
“Put her down,” Marissa said with a voice more wolf than woman.
The man jerked his head to the side, and his face transformed. His eyebrows lifted and his eyes went wide as though a ghost hovered before him.
The edges of Morgan’s vision blurred as she struggled for air.
“Stop, or I’ll kill you.” Marissa straightened bravely with the splintered leg of one of Lana’s tiny chairs.
“Who is she to you?” the man whispered.
“She is family,” Marissa gritted out.
He hesitated only a moment before his iron grip loosened around Morgan’s neck. She fell to the floor in a crumpled heap of desperation and gasped for breath. The vampire flicked his fingers and the splintered wood flew from Marissa’s hand so hard, it burrowed deep into the sheetrock of the wall. A dagger in the house.
“You,” he said glaring at Morgan. “Go to the corner and stay there.”
He was out of his damned mind if he thought she was going to obey him. She stood slowly and glared at him.
“Do it,” he growled out. The pupils of his eyes constricted to pinpoints, and the color flashed even more brilliant.
She head-butted him. His nose made a satisfying crack as her forehead connected, and he staggered back.
“Bloody hell,” he mumbled. “I forgot how independent and strong-willed you dogs are. It’s been a century or two since I’ve had cause to speak with you.” He straightened his spine, eased his shoulders back proudly, and his nose moved of its own accord to fix the break. The cartilage in his nose crunched and cracked until it was perfectly straight again.
Morgan couldn’t drag her eyes away from his instant heal, and he gave a jagged grin. One of his teeth was covered in blood from the trickle that ran from his nose.
“We’ll have to play this a different way then, won’t we?” He disappeared into a cloud of deep purple and reappeared beside Lana. “Go to the corner like a good mutt and stay there, or I’ll pop her pretty little head from her body.”
Marissa stepped forward, but the warning in his glare stopped her progress.
Morgan slunk to the corner. “Please don’t hurt her. She’s just a child.”
His eyes narrowed. “Generally speaking, I’m not a baby killer. But make no mistake, if pushed to do so, I’ll lose no sleep.” He grinned cheerily. “That’s a joke. I don’t sleep.”
“What do you want?” Marissa asked.
He was quiet for a loaded moment as he drank her in. There was something almost human in his eyes as they lit on her face. A sadness as deep as a well stirred in their depths.
“What has happened in your short life that has made you such an old soul, child?”
“I’m not a child,” Marissa gritted out. “Never was.”
“I can see that. I’m here to assess the danger of the Silver Wolf Clan’s rebirth. Certain leaders in my community see the threat in your existence.”
“Aelred?” Morgan whispered.
He dragged his eyes away from Marissa. “Clever little wolf. He isn’t excited about your unfortunate comeback. I, however, see the danger in beginning a war with you werewolves. As your history has probably embellished, we have been on the losing end of those efforts more than once. Our even numbers create a balance, but Silver Wolf has tipped that, now haven’t you? Do you realize, in your lifetime, you could throw a hundred pups? And each pup could mature to throw a hundred more. Surely, you can understand my concern.”
>
“But I don’t even know if I can have a child,” she pleaded.
“Well, that is to be determined.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “The girl saved you today. She is now the most valuable member of your little pack of protection. You are no longer in danger from me, but the wheels have already been set in motion. Others will find you and try to smudge you back into the history books.” He approached Marissa and stopped only when he stood directly in front of her. He lifted a lock of her wavy, strawberry blond hair. He frowned and let the soft strands fall through his fingers. “Learn to fight, wolf. Learn to defend your family from us. Live.”
“Morgan?” Grey bellowed from downstairs. “Marissa?”
The vampire’s eyes darkened. “My name is Larius.” He bit Marissa so fast the motion was a blur. With wide eyes, she looked down at the two puncture marks that pooled blood on the inside of her elbow.
“I’m tuned to you now. Call my name if ever you’re near death.” He leaned forward as if he would brush his lips against hers but disappeared in a haze of smoke. The mist hovered over Marissa for a moment before it, too, was gone.
“What the hell?” she whispered.
Morgan rushed to Lana when Grey’s shadow darkened the doorway. He breathed heavily as if he had run a great distance and was clad in only a pair of sweat pants. “What’s happened?” he demanded. “I could feel your fear from the other side of our property. He stormed the room and brushed a finger against her and Lana’s faces, as if doing so would assure him they were still there. Still warm. Still alive.
Morgan held his hand in place. “A vampire was here.”
“Aelred?”
“No. His name was Larius but I think he knows Aelred. He said he wouldn’t harm us, but that others would.”
Marissa was scrubbing her face with an entire miniature bottle of hand sanitizer. She dumped the last few drops into the teeth marks on her arm and winced. “I’ve seen him somewhere before. I swear, he looks so familiar.”
“Where did he go?” Grey asked “We can’t let him lead the others here.”
“He’s gone,” Morgan said quietly. “He said he’s tuned to Marissa now. I have this awful feeling that anywhere we run, he’ll be able to find us.”