by Jayla Kane
“I haven’t had a chance to tell you how good it is to see you all here together again,” Anna said quietly, and my cleared as my eyes found her face. Her expression was plaintive. “It’s… Well, it’s what Sarah and I live for.” I thought about Mina, drooling in the big, expensive nursing home in Pittsburgh, and Lucas’s ashes in the garden; I thought about Jake and Raven’s happy smiles whenever they were within a foot of one another. Tristan, his quiet, cautious presence so different from Zella’s as she stormed through the halls. And Percy and Christa and Molly and me, and all the other extras that might wander through. I guess it was a big change. When I shook off my thoughts and met Anna’s eyes, it occurred to me that she might not be as happy about them as we wanted to think.
“I’m sorry about Mina,” I whispered, and she took that as an invitation and reached out to give my shoulder a brief squeeze.
“Lady Mina is free now,” she said quietly. “Some spells hide damage, some spells do damage. One day soon she’ll leave us and be at peace.” I stared at her, my eyes wide. “The person we should most worry for is Morgan.”
“He doesn’t know?”
“You’ll have to talk to your sisters and the boys, my dear,” Anna said, not feigning her ignorance. “That’s upstairs business, that is.”
“Then Sarah would know?”
“I’m sure she knows, but she will not say,” Anna told me, her voice still soft. There was no malice in her words. “It’s not the purpose we serve.”
I gulped, watching her. “What purpose do you serve, then?” So they were ghosts? Caught forever—
“I serve the needs of the Warfield Dynasty, love,” she said, watching me. “And it has not all been a bad business, not at all, especially with this latest crop.” Anna gave me a brief smile. “I know you have your own mind about my young gentlemen, but I must tell you, they are good in their hearts.” A touch of darkness passed over her kind features, then vanished. “Not all are.”
“Jacob Warfield is a monster,” I said bluntly, and pushed my plate away before trying to stand. “And Tristan—”
I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and sat back down, startled. “Master Jacob has helped your young man many a time, love,” she said, her quiet voice subduing me. “He has some flaws I’d imagine you, of all the lovely Keller girls, would understand.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “What? Are you saying—”
“Brash. Occasionally thoughtless, definitely ruthless in the name of love.” Anna raised an eyebrow at me and leaned back against the sink, crossing her arms over her chest. “Loyal above all else.”
I stared at Anna, chewing my lip. “But—”
“Jake has earned his happiness, and will do so yet with Mistress Raven. It’s you I fear for.” I went still, too surprised to move, and stared at her. “There are those who won’t like you.” Anna’s face was puckered in thought now, as she watched me take in her words. “There are those who will say it’s not a lady’s place, or that you expect what you shouldn’t.” Something glimmered in those dark eyes, and I swallowed hard. “Some people will want to hurt you for it. But don’t let them, miss,” she said, her voice more urgent. “Never let them take what makes you—the kiss of life is in you, and none can take it, just as none can steal your pride or your valor.” Anna studied me. “They can take your health, like Lady Mina. And your wealth. But not your gift, love. Not that,” she said quietly. “Never that.”
I ate my cookies. I drank my cocoa. And when I got up to leave, Anna patted my cheek and sent me off with a silent nod, her face far too still to betray such knowledge.
And I made it to cheer practice every day for the next two weeks, and busted my ass at that game.
I owed somebody—a girl I once knew, who cared. So I made myself care, made myself smile, and enjoyed the snarl underneath. It didn’t feel fake.
In a strange way, it felt like justice.
Chapter Ten
Hunter
It’d been over five weeks. More than a month.
A month since I left her there, since my head was so full of stars that I didn’t see how dangerous it really was when I jumped back to my trailer for the last time, slept in that bed for the last time, was Hunter Black for the last time.
A month since someone hurt her. A month since I died.
I had no way of being alone with Raven, of telling her I understood; I hoped she knew. I felt like Baby would be able to explain that better than I could anyway, being as me and words never got along very well. I worked hard at talking with Baby, though—I had to tell her things, now, had to make sure I didn’t rely on my hands to talk, to give her new stories with my mouth, in new ways—it wasn’t time. She needed more time.
And I had nothing else to give her, so that was fine.
But I couldn’t say I didn’t miss it, my natural language. I preferred it. Some things words just couldn’t convey.
Like how I felt when I saw her in that towel—the shine of her golden skin, gleaming along her collarbone, the glow of her eyes. The shape of her, barely constrained, the horror of her thinness and the reason for it, the remaining unfathomable beauty. My god, Baby Keller. A man could die and go to heaven and never see an angel that would compare.
Two weeks.
We made it—finally.
I got the house ready, shaking off those thoughts of her, and made sure everything was locked up tight; I knew I’d only be gone for a couple minutes at the most, but the wolves had been around this week, and it made me nervous. They couldn’t get close without setting off all of Tristan’s alarms, and only the Sheriff had come up and rung the bell. Stomped the snow off his boots and settled down in the kitchen for a cup of coffee, left after a half an hour. Three days ago. It was a reminder, a courtesy visit that the moment would come when I’d have to find a space within the pack if I wanted to stay here, and since I had nowhere else to go I didn’t have much choice. I’d seen two wolves from town standing out in the trees the whole time he was here, no more than shadows; security for the pack, I was sure. Tristan had books on werewolves here, and I’d stayed up late, reading; took me twice as long to read a book a third grader could top in a night, but it was alright. Had nothing else to do but that, and wait.
It wasn’t bad, being out here with the wolves. I knew Molly was safe—safer than she’d ever be with me around, and richer than Midas now that Jake had tucked her into the Warfield fold. My dad was still alive, and had no one around he could destroy; it was a life sentence of solitary confinement, but he could break free if he could figure out how to put down the bottle. His choice, as far as I was concerned. He couldn’t hurt anyone, and that was my role in his life. So now that was done.
In a weird way, I’d never been freer.
But werewolves were territorial, dangerous and cunning, from all I’d read. There were five packs in North America, and none of them were under the control of the Guild; for that matter, Tristan’s notes indicated there were more supernatural communities, more supernatural entities, in fact, and that witches and wolves were far from alone on this earth. I was glad Jake had everybody holed up in that giant magic trap he lived in. The Ashwood Coven and the Warfield dynasty both came up in a couple of Tristan’s books, and I didn’t think anybody was going to be messing with them for a while, at least.
The werewolves here numbered about forty or so, and I was right. When I asked the Sheriff, he explained that there are no female werewolves unless they’re bitten in. It’s an old practice, he said, barbaric; we don’t make anybody do it if they don’t want to. But the women here most often come from other packs, so they know what they’re getting in to.
“Wolves mate for life,” he said, resting one big boot on his ankle and leaning back in the chair. He treated this kitchen like he’d been in here plenty of times, doing just this, and it was strange to think of Tristan in such a social situation. “Did you know that?” I wasn’t sure what to make of the way he was looking at me.
“No,” I said.
>
“What was your family name again? Warfield didn’t say.”
“Black,” I told him. “Far as I know.”
He was quiet for a minute, his eyes raking over my face. “Huh.”
I watched him in silence, and he cracked a grin. “What’s funny?”
“Is she a wolf?”
“What?” I was so startled I blinked, and he laughed out loud, letting the chair clap back down on the floor as he leaned forward and slapped the table.
“Should see your face, Hunter Black.” He raised an eyebrow at me. The Sheriff was about thirty, not as tall as me, but with one of those builds you always know is trouble in a fight—lean with muscle, long and quick. Like Jake. “I asked you, is your mate a wolf?”
“No—no, she’s not my mate, she’s a—” Another big grin stopped me cold. I knew I was supposed to respect him, but he wasn’t winning me over right now. I felt the predator inside of me snatch at my body, felt my eyes darken and my head twist as I bit back a snarl. His eyes sharpened.
“No, it’s not her,” he said quietly, all mirth gone. “It’s you.”
“What’s me?”
“I don’t know the name Black,” he said, still watching me. “But you’ve got the wolf in you, boy. And if you’re courting a girl you should know there’s a good chance you won’t ever court another, so make it count.” His body was coiled, in spite of the relaxed pose; the wolves outside were gone, and then I heard a scratch at the door.
They’d changed, and were letting me know he wasn’t alone.
“A pack is a delicate thing,” he said, his voice calm as he took a sip of the coffee I poured him. “There’s a million rungs on the ladder, but you have to find which one is yours if you’re going to stay here.” He sighed and stood up, offered me his hand. “Warfield said you needed protection, and I told him you’d have to prove you were worth the trouble, just like he did.”
“I don’t think I can join a pack,” I said, shaking his hand. His eyes narrowed. “I… From what I know, you don’t truck with magic—”
“You’re in a coven, then?” He studied me for a second, and I shrugged. He shook his head.
“You can join the pack, or not. Coven members tend to cut loyalties, and neither side handles it well. But either way, if you stay in our territory, our fights are your fights.” He lifted his chin, his shoulders square. “A wolf’s life depends on his pack’s strength, and if you live on our land you have to contribute to our strength. Got it?”
“Okay,” I said. Made sense. I wondered if they worked in trade. I was a pretty good mechanic, but I got a feeling, from the way his eyes shone, that wasn’t what he meant.
“We’ll get you when it’s time,” he said, taking one last look around before unexpectedly clapping a hand on my shoulder as he stepped outside. There was a white wolf and two dark wolves, one of them black and absolutely massive, all perfectly silent beneath the tree line. I guessed they’d moved away from the door as a courtesy.
They’d put up a hell of a fight, I thought, assessing them, and the Sheriff gave me one more narrow glance. “Tell Warfield he’s missed,” he said over his shoulder, then casually stalked off into the trees, thumbs tucked in his belt like he was taking a stroll in the middle of spring. It took me a minute to realize none of them were wearing a coat.
I’d been waiting for them to come back since then, but they hadn’t. And if they showed up when Baby was here…
I looked around the little house one more time, trying to make sure everything was perfect. In spite of my original intentions, it really did look like my place now; there was so little of Tristan to begin with, and now all the food was mine, the way the furniture was arranged, the towels and the chenille throw and the flowers I bought for Baby. It looked like it belonged in my life, not his, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that—particularly as his legacy included a wolf pack.
But it was time to go. All I could do was hope they stayed away during her visit. I checked the clock one more time, looked at myself in the mirror and huffed out a sigh, and then I jumped.
The world moved by me in a blur, a nothingness I skipped over, light as a stone on a lake, and then I arrived and saw her, and forgot all about the worries of the day.
Baby Keller. So innocuous, so harmless, that name—the lie that had seized my heart. I looked at her face and wondered how I was ever going to let her go again on Sunday.
Chapter Eleven
Baby
Hunter wasn’t there one minute, and then in the next he was. I clutched my bag as the subtle rush of ozone blew over me, full of the smells he brought with him—asphalt, as if he’d run so fast there was tar on his boots, pine trees, snow, a hint of smoke from his fireplace. Hunter stood in the center of the room and spun towards me, then opened his arms, enveloping me as my body took over and I ran towards him. When I leaned back to look up at his face, we were already standing in his cabin.
“Hi,” I said, staring up at him. I couldn’t believe how handsome he was; I hadn’t forgotten, but it was one thing to wake up sweaty from a very nice dream and another thing altogether to look into those eyes.
“Hi,” he rumbled, his hands tightening around my waist for a second, and then he took a breath and stepped away from me, a shy smile on that lovely face. “Missed you, sugar.”
I wanted to be that girl again, suddenly—I wanted to be the girl that lowered her lashes and pushed out her lip, pressing her breasts against that hard stomach as she said ‘prove it.’ But I just bit my lip and smiled back at him before I looked around for a place to put my bag. He reached down to take it and for a second his cheek was right by my mouth—the scent of him, freshly shaven, the crisp scent of soap and his own smell, under it, washed over me… But then his long fingers wrapped through the handle and it was gone, and so was he, carrying it quietly back to the bedroom.
“I don’t understand how little noise you make,” I called, glad my voice sounded light-hearted, at least. Not like last time. And I wasn’t scared when we were near each other either; in fact, I felt a little… Eager. The realization made me flush with excitement—not that I was necessarily ready to do anything about it, but life without the constant shadow of fear… Now that was something. “You’re as big as a house! Why are you so damn quiet?”
“I don’t know,” he said, returning with a mischievous look on his face. He arched an eyebrow at me as he walked into the little kitchen and checked something in the oven. “Why are you so loud?”
“I’m enthusiastic,” I said, crossing my arms as I plopped down on one of the chairs next to his kitchen table. “I’m not loud.”
“Mmm,” he said, tacit disagreement in his tone. I smirked, glad to be back to bantering with him. I had really missed him, terribly—not just for the comfort he gave me and the way he let me be myself; of course I missed all that. But I also just missed him. His quiet humor, his steadfast intensity, his intuition. Hunter. “You hungry?”
“For your cooking? Definitely.” Anna had given me more special treats than I could count in the last two weeks since I’d seen him, but it was different when a gigantic, sexy man cooked you dinner. He pulled a big pan out of the oven and set it on top of the stove, taking off the lid and letting the whole house fill with the smell of pot roast and vegetables, cooked to perfection. I sighed dreamily and waited for my plate.
After we ate, he asked me if I wanted to go to bed; it was later than last time, around nine o’clock, and I wasn’t a night-owl. Neither was he, from what I could tell, but he could clock some hours when he wanted to. “I don’t want to stop hanging out,” I said, letting the truth of it shine in my voice. “Can we talk some more?”
So we did. We talked for two hours, sitting right there at the table, catching up on everything that happened while we were apart—Hunter’s encounter with the wolves and his subsequent worry that they would show up while I was visiting, and the two tests I passed by the skin of my teeth. Raven, Jake, Zelle; Tristan, the man, the mystery, the my
th. Anna’s words to me in the kitchen. Hunter’s solemn endorsement of Jake’s character. My quick retort, his snorted rebuttal.
It was wonderful, basically. It made me so happy to talk to him, to be with him, that I didn’t go to bed until eleven o’clock.
He walked in with me, and we brushed our teeth in the mirror, making goofy faces at each other. He nodded to me and left when I grabbed my bag, and after I got dressed in the bathroom he gave me a quick wave from the doorway and went around turning off the lights as I laid down.
It took me five minutes to make up my mind.
I knew he wasn’t asleep either; I could hear him roll over on the couch, once, then twice, as if he couldn’t quite get comfortable. I let my arms stretch out across the expanse of his big bed, prodding my own mind, examining my comfort levels and needs, and then I sat up and stared at the little light peeping in from the cracked bathroom door. He’d gotten it since the last time I was here, a way to make me more comfortable, a little extra measure of safety, as if I would be afraid of the dark.
And fair enough, because these days I kind of was. But I had something much more reassuring in the other room, and it took me only another second to decide.
I walked over to the doorway and heard him shift on the couch again as he rolled towards me. The moon was bright on the snow outside, and the world sparkled with nocturnal beauty; reflected starshine filled the little cabin, and I could see every feature of his perfect face as he sat up and blinked at me. “Hunter?”
“Yeah sugar?” His voice was unsure; I took a step towards him, then halted and reached out my hand.