by R. J. Blain
Drawing a deep breath, I held it until my lungs burned before releasing it. “They wanted me dominant enough to help them form their ideal, perfect pack. They wanted me to subjugate wolves for them. They weren’t strong enough to do it themselves, I guess. They wanted a wolf who could, but one who would be loyal. Someone of their blood. Their tactic of severing strong wolves wasn’t working, so they needed a Second so they could form a pack. While Alex was more dominant than me, they were going to put him down and mate again to try for a proper True-born.” I drummed my fingers on the tabletop.
Desmond leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fenerec parents dream of winning the lottery of life and having a True-born puppy if they manage to have any puppies at all. Hell, your pack is almost legendary with how many successful matings you have. That’s also because you’re submissive, isn’t it? It’s simply easier for you to keep the bitches from transforming. Unbelievable. Your parents got you, and they weren’t happy? Absurd.”
“Absurd? Try absolutely insane,” Wendy growled.
Desmond growled and yanked at his hair. “You’re right, Wendy. There’s no other explanation. They were completely insane. Absolutely fucking insane. They got a True-born submissive puppy and didn’t want him? That’s like finding the Holy Grail and deciding to smash it.”
Wallowing in self-pity wasn’t going to help me any, but before I could stop myself, I blurted, “Well, they thought I was defective.”
“Oh, Richard,” Wendy whispered, hugging me tighter. “If they weren’t already dead, I’d kill them myself. You’re not defective. You’re far from it. Any other wolf would have killed our daughter. I was convinced she was gone, and then you brought her back from the dead. We went in not even sure if we could keep you alive, only to get you both back.”
I stiffened at the emotion in her voice. “Wendy, I…”
She pressed her face to my neck, and I sucked in a breath. She was crying; I froze, unable to think of a single thing to say or do.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Shaking my head, I couldn’t accept or imagine why she was thanking me. If it hadn’t been for me, my mate never would have been in danger in the first place. If I had stayed in my forest where I belonged, my parents never would have gotten so close to her.
If I had stayed in Yellowknife, we never would have met.
“Richard,” Desmond said, demanding my attention with a wave of his hand and the sharp edge in his tone. I met his gaze and tensed as his wolf stared at me through his eyes. Rising, he leaned across the table to press his forehead to mine. “You didn’t kill your brother. You didn’t kill our daughter.”
When I tried to lower my gaze, Desmond grabbed my chin and forced my head up. “I will beat the guilt out of you if I must, Richard. They deserved what you did to them. They deserved it for what they did to you as a puppy. They deserved it for trying to kill my daughter. They deserved it for hurting you and your wolves. Just accept I’m right, because I am.”
“He is right, you know,” Wendy said, rubbing her cheek against my neck. “Be a good puppy, drink your coffee, go have a proper shower, and get dressed. I’ll go pack your things, then we’re going to take you home, you’re going to relax, and you’re going to go back to being your stubborn self. That’s final.”
The last thing I expected when I stepped out of Desmond’s house to take my bag to his SUV was a dark-haired man waiting on the doorstep with a Taser. He held it low, the prongs pointed in my direction as I stood in the doorway.
“Are you Mr. Murphy?”
I breathed in the human’s scent. Damp undertones warned me he was a witch, likely aligned with water or earth, and the acrid fumes of his agitation made my nose itch. Shifting my bag’s strap on my shoulder, I considered how I wanted to deal with him. Something about him was familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I had met him before.
“It’s polite to ring the bell if you’re looking for someone, sir,” I replied, stepping around him. “Desmond, company!”
The witch grabbed my arm, yanking hard enough he unbalanced me. “Are you Mr. Murphy?” he repeated, and he prodded the Taser into my ribs.
At the cocking of a gun behind me, I twisted in place, sucking in a breath.
My mate held a revolver with bone grips. She stepped forward, pressing the business end between the witch’s eyes. “We meet again, Mr. Taylor. I’m sorry, Mr. Murphy isn’t available at the moment,” she hissed. “I’m pretty sure Father already told you what would happen to your hand if you insisted on pointing Tasers at people. It’s seven in the morning. If you don’t let him go, seeing as I’m not strong enough to rip you limb from limb, I’m going to give you a bullet as a late Christmas present instead.”
The witch had courage, I had to give him that. He was also one of the stupidest humans I had ever had the misfortune of meeting. If my mate ever pointed a gun at me, I’d do whatever she wanted and hope she took pity on me.
Swallowing back a sigh, I set my bag down, grabbed hold of his wrist, and dug my fingers in. “She might not be strong enough to take your hand off, but I am. Let go.”
“What in the hell is going on here?” Frank came up behind Nicolina, taking hold of her wrist and pointing the pistol down at the ground. “I’m pretty sure you don’t have authorization to be here, Mr. Taylor.”
“Frank!” Nicolina protested. Finger by finger, Frank peeled the pistol out of my mate’s hand.
“It’s too early in the morning for a murder,” my Second said.
“You’re the Alpha of Yellowknife,” Mr. Taylor said, his attention turning to Frank.
Frank stared at the gun in his hand, took a long look at the witch, and put the weapon back in my mate’s hand. “I changed my mind. Maybe it isn’t too early in the morning for a murder. Mr. Taylor, what are you doing here?”
“I’m to take Mr. Murphy into custody,” the witch snapped, still refusing to let go of my arm. “Rogues are not permitted to run loose.”
My mate sighed, leaned into the house, and yelled, “Dad! There’s a psycho witch here. Can I shoot him?”
Unable to help myself, pleased and amused at my mate’s audacity, I said, “You’re supposed to ask your father if you can kill people before you start pointing your gun at them.”
“Shut up, I didn’t ask you,” my mate hissed.
Desmond ran into the living room, halting behind his daughter, and narrowed his eyes, his gaze fixed on where the witch gripped my arm. “Nicolina, the gun please.”
“It’s loaded for Fenerec,” she warned, holding it out grip first.
When my mate was angry and armed, I loved the way her eyes flashed and her mouth thinned. However, I didn’t like how her attention was fully focused on someone other than me. Mr. Taylor was in her sights, and I swallowed back a growl.
Desmond took over where my mate had left off, extending the weapon. His eyes turned yellow and annoyance added a sharp bite to his scent.
I almost felt sorry for the witch—almost. One Desmond was frightening enough. If Wendy joined in, I intended on backing away until the fireworks ended.
Desmond growled, “I’m going to give you ten seconds to release him, pull out your phone, and call the dimwit who authorized you to come onto my property without my permission. My first bullet is going to clip your cheek. If you’re lucky, I won’t take off part of your ear. The second one goes between your eyes. If you even think of using that Taser, I’ll just shoot you, take your phone, and start placing calls until I figure out who your boss is.”
“I will not permit you to interfere in Inquisition business. Rogues are our domain, Mr. Desmond.”
“You seem to be confused,” my mate murmured, shaking her head. “When my father says you’re to call someone when you’re trespassing on our property, you call them. Maybe you think you have authorization, but Daddy’s the one holding the gun.”
Without a sign of fear, Nicolina stepped forward, and while the witch gawked at her, she relieved hi
m of his Taser and jabbed it into his side. “Go ahead. Make my morning.”
Mr. Taylor let me go. Too amused by my mate’s fury to want to interrupt her, I took a single step to the side so I was out of her way. The witch’s cell stuck out of his back pocket, and for no reason other than the fact I could, I reached over and plucked it out. “Possession is nine tenths of the law if I’m not mistaken. Is that correct, Miss Desmond?”
“It seems applicable in this situation,” she agreed.
“Give me that back!” the witch shrieked.
“Quiet,” I snarled, calling on my wolf. I didn’t even need to draw on Frank to silence the witch. “Let’s see who he has in his contacts, shall we?”
Whoever Mr. Taylor was, he wasn’t a small fry; I recognized several names and extensions on the witch’s contact list, including one of my favorites. “Oh, this is going to be fun,” I said, pressing the dial button and putting the phone to my ear. “He’s going to be so mad I called him at this hour.”
“Who are you calling?” the witch cried out.
“Nicolina, if he opens his mouth again, give him a jolt,” I suggested.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“How may I direct your call?” a voice answered, so digitally masked I couldn’t tell if it belonged to a man or a woman.
“This is Richard Murphy,” I growled. “Topside, please.”
“Please hold.”
“Topside?” my mate asked, frowning. “Is that a person?”
Her father chuckled. “Oh, you’re such a treat, Puppy. No, Nicolina. Topside isn’t a person. It’s a place, although the way he phrased his request ensured he’ll be patched through to a specific person. Someone’s really annoyed, and someone else is about to be really annoyed.”
“Connecting,” the operator stated.
Like the operator, the voice on the other end was digitized, although I could tell he was a male. Sighing, the Shadow Pope asked, “Richard, are you aware that it is seven in the morning where you’re at? I’m pretty sure I told you I didn’t want you to call me before at least ten your time. Whenever you call me this early, you tell me something I don’t like.”
“Were you aware I’ve been flagged as a rogue and an obnoxious witch with a Taser thought he could take me in on his own?” I replied. “I think his name’s Taylor, and I have this urge to rip his hand off. He’s been relieved of his phone and his Taser.”
“Where are you?” the Shadow Pope demanded.
“I’m standing about three feet from Charles Desmond, who is standing in the doorway of his house. He happens to look ready to shoot your witch, if that matters to you.”
“I didn’t authorize your being flagged as a rogue. What’s this about? I was notified that you had been snatched, but that you and a Normal—Desmond’s bloody daughter, for that matter—had been recovered successfully in an operation involving the entirety of your pack plus Desmond, his mate, and Seattle’s Alpha.” Paper crumpled, and I grinned at the thought of the young Shadow Pope throwing things in his office. “Also, it’s good to hear your voice, Richard. You had us worried.”
“You’d miss my magic with your money, admit it.”
“And your sharp wit and obnoxious ego. You said the witch’s name was Taylor?”
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
Nicolina’s eyes widened.
“Okay. Give me a minute here to find and flag his file. Ah, he was our representative for the operation to retrieve you. Interesting. When I give you the go ahead, take his phone and smash it. A team’ll be by to extract him. Has he hurt anyone?”
“No. I haven’t relieved him of his hand yet, either.”
“Yet?”
“I don’t like when people threaten me with a Taser,” I replied. “Apparently, someone over there seems to think my Second is in charge of Yellowknife. Fix your system, sir.”
“See, this is exactly why I don’t like when you call me so early in the morning, Richard. I’ll make sure it’s fixed—and have a long discussion with someone about why you were flagged without my authorization.”
I grinned. “Thank you, sir. I don’t suppose you’d let us use the Taser on him, would you?”
“I’ll pretend I know nothing of such an incident. The extraction team will be aware of the possibility of an anomaly. Can you please ask Mr. Desmond for authorization for the ops team to come onto his property?”
“Of course, sir.” Holding the phone away from my ear and covering the bottom with my hand, I turned to Desmond and said, “He wants permission to have a team come make a friendly visit.”
“Granted.”
I returned the cell to my ear and said, “Granted, sir.”
“Don’t kill my witch. I will deal with him personally. Please extend my apologies to Mr. Desmond,” the Shadow Pope ordered.
“Will do, sir. Anything else you need since we’re on the phone anyway?”
“No, we can catch up later. Have a good holiday, Richard. You may smash the phone now.”
“You, too,” I replied before hanging up. Smiling, I poked the witch’s cheek with his phone. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”
Winding up, I slammed the phone on the stone walkway as hard as I could. My mate squeaked and hopped back as the device shattered into a thousand pieces.
“How dare you!” the witch screamed.
“Taser,” I ordered, holding out my hand for the device. With wide eyes, my mate gave it to me. I adjusted the settings so it wouldn’t kill the witch before offering it back. I adjusted her grip on it, turned it on, and took a step back. “Have fun, Nicolina.”
“Are you serious?” she blurted.
“Merry Christmas.”
“I’ve wanted to do this since the first time I saw you, you asshole,” Nicolina snarled, jamming the Taser into the witch’s ribs. With a grim smile, she zapped him, dropping the Taser on the ground once she was finished with it. “Fucker.”
Leaving the witch to twitch and writhe on the front porch, my mate stepped over him and headed towards the car.
I shamelessly watched her go, admiring the sway of her hips and the way she whistled a happy little tune.
“Please tell me he actually gave you permission to do that,” Frank begged.
“Ignoring it, permission—close enough,” I replied, pausing long enough to pick up my bag before following after my mate. “There was some mention about a team ignoring any anomalies. If he’s stupid enough to get up, give him another hit, would you?”
“With pleasure.”
“Desmond, His Eminence offers his apologies. We’re not allowed to kill him.”
“Pity,” my mate’s father grumbled, heading into the house. “I’ll just put the gun away, then.”
“You can’t even walk out of the house without getting into trouble, can you?” my Second wailed. “That does it. When we get home, I’m locking you up in the lodge and keeping you there. I don’t know what you’re doing to attract such bad luck, but stop it!”
Striking a Deal
Dealing with the devil has its risks, but when Nicolina strikes a bargain with Richard Murphy, she fears she has bitten off more than she can chew.
If my father thought he was going to get away with making me share a hotel room with Richard Murphy, he was mistaken.
“Why can’t Frank stay with Richard?” I demanded through clenched teeth.
“It’s easier to guard you if you’re together,” my father replied, pointing at the adjacent room. “I was nice and gave you the room with the jacuzzi. Have a soak and go to bed. You’ll feel better when you’ve had a chance to relax.”
“Dad, how do you expect me to bathe or relax with Richard in the room?”
With a long sigh, my father shook his head. “The same way I do when he’s visiting our house. You close the bathroom door and enjoy your bath. The room has two beds. You take one. He takes the other. You like telling me how much of an adult you are, so act like one. Normal adults can share a room without
killing each other.”
“You’re going to regret this,” I promised.
“Give up, Nicolina. Your father’s not going to change his mind. Frank is in the room on the other side of you. If there’s any problem, just scream. One of us will hear you,” my mother replied, shooing me out of the room. “Be glad I didn’t approve of his first idea. He wanted all five of us to share a room. This way, at least, you have your own bed instead of sharing one with your worst enemy. But remember, if you scream, you and Richard will be sharing a room with us. Do so at your own peril. Unless you want to share a bed with him, of course. Personally, I wouldn’t mind having Richard as a son-in-law, but your father doesn’t feel like sharing you at this point in time.”
I shuddered. “That’s horrific.”
“If you keep complaining, I’ll change my mind and let him have his way. I’m sure Richard would appreciate someone to curl around and keep him warm through the night.”
When my mother issued threats, she meant them. The only thing worse than sharing a room with Richard was doing so with my father and mother hovering, breathing down my neck. I retreated from my parents' room, muttering curses as I slammed the door behind me.
In the room I was doomed to share with Yellowknife’s Alpha, I found him sprawled on the far bed, his arms dangling off the end. “You’d have better luck moving a mountain,” he informed me.
“You heard that?” I grumbled, closing the door behind me.
“No. Honestly, I’m impressed he hasn’t insisted we share a bed with him. All I heard was a rather frustrated wail a few minutes ago, which I assume came from you.” Richard rolled until he was on his side facing me and stifling a yawn. “If you want to get some revenge on your father in Yellowknife, all I ask is you limit the amount of damage you do to the lodge.”