by Morgan Fox
He stared into her concerned eyes. Her voice sounded frail as she told him, “Come inside, and tell me what’s got you so upset.”
Walker stalked into the den, his shoulders slumped forward as if the weight of the world was pressing down upon him, and he actually felt like it was. He hoped, more than anything, that his grandmother had the answers to his questions. He prayed she could reverse the spell.
“Nana, I want my wolf back.”
The door closed with a solid thud. “You what?” she breathed.
He twisted his hands together as if wringing them out like a towel. “I want to be who I was always meant to be. I want to be like my grandfather—a wolf.”
For a long moment, his grandmother gawked at him. Her eyes fixed on his like deep, penetrating thorns. Then she moved around him, shouldering her way past him, and settled into a chair at the head of the dining table. Slowly, she sipped a cup of something steaming. Walker held his breath as he waited for her response. He’d had a deep suspicion that his grandmother would not be pleased that he wanted to be a wolf like his grandfather. Nana had long ago made it clear that she never thought much of the lycan ways. She never said why exactly, but he had a feeling it had everything to do with his grandfather’s passing.
The cup she held clinked against the saucer as she placed it down. Gazing up at him, she questioned, “This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain sheriff, would it?”
Walker could never in a million years lie to his grandmother. She’d been his world even before his mother died. She might be the mother of his rotten-ass father, a man who cared more about his alcohol consumption than his family, but Annabel Reed was still a decent and good woman with a heart that swelled around him.
He nodded with a smile and said, “At first maybe, but—“
His words froze in his mouth. They simply wouldn’t come out. He didn’t know how to explain what was going on inside him. Since the moment he’d made love to Silence, he felt different, like there was something burning inside his chest and it was screaming to be unleashed—a flaming energy that consumed every fiber within his body.
He placed his cowboy hat on the wall hook in the foyer and ran a stiff hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to describe it. I feel altered in some way, like I’m not myself.” He groaned, frustrated with his lack of understanding over his own body. “Nana, I’ve claimed my mate, and since that time—”
“You have fire in your belly?” The words moved from her mouth like she was the one experiencing the sensation.
A chill washed over every inch of him. The words his grandmother had chosen to use were the exact ones he was prepared to say. He nodded again, and his mouth hung open just a little. Finally, he asked, “How did you know?”
She waved her hand through the air. “Oh, Walker, the first time I was with your grandfather, I felt the same way.”
He sighed, suddenly no longer intrigued by his grandmother’s words. She was a romantic at heart, but he thought of all people she would understand him best. “Nana, it’s not love in my gut I’m feeling. I mean, yes, I’m in love with Silence, but it’s different than that.”
“Oh, I’m well aware of what it is, my boy.” She tapped the tabletop, beckoning him to sit beside her. “You might want to have a seat for this.”
Walker pulled out the chair and sat down as instructed. His grandmother may have suggested he find a seat, but really what she was telling him was he had no choice. Annabel Reed may have looked tiny, but there was all spunk and spirit in the meek, little frame.
“You’ve found your mate as both a lycan and a witch, Walker.”
The palms of his hands were sweaty, and his stomach fluttered with nerves. “Come again.”
Leaning her folded arms on the table, she said, “Darling, I’ve never kept secrets from you. I’ve always been honest about what I am and what your grandfather was. Did it ever occur to you that even though your parents weren’t lycans that they could’ve been like me?”
He sucked in a breath. “My parents were witches?”
“Yes, and I believe that you are not just a werewolf, but a witch as well. You are a hybrid in so many ways, Walker. The powers you could harness would be unstoppable and very dangerous if the wrong person every found out.” She reached to take his hand in hers, and the connection left a warm tingle gliding up his arm. “Witchcraft is not like anything else supernatural. Vampires and werewolves know who and what they are pretty much right off the bat, but witches…they come into their powers at any given time.” She smiled softly. “Walker, your mating with Silence drew out your magic, and that is the fire you feel in your gut.”
He gawked at his grandmother, waiting for her expression to shift to humor, but when it didn’t, he rasped, “Holy shit.”
His grandmother scoffed and said, “Exactly.”
Walker grasped his grandmother’s delicate hand a little tighter. “I’m sorry, Nana. I didn’t mean to speak like that in front of you.”
She patted his hand in a comforting gesture and then said, “No apologies needed, Walker. I bet you’d fall off your chair if you heard what shot out of my mouth when my mother sat me down for a talk just like you and I are having now. When I found out I was a witch, I accidently set fire to the drapes in the kitchen.” She covered her mouth and giggled. “Needless to say, your great-grandmother wasn’t very happy with me.”
He couldn’t help but smile. “No, I’m sure she wasn’t.”
The joy-filled expression she’d just had faded as she asked him, “Walker, are you sure this is what you want? The power you harness inside you would be so intoxicating. Managing those powers will be difficult and would require a lot of practice and patience. You would have to learn how to use them and not allow the power to rule over you.” She instantly looked worried. “It’s addictive, the power that comes from being a witch. I’ve seen many get lost to its allure, and they were never the same.”
“That won’t happen to me, Nana. I have you to teach me.”
She kissed his hand. “So this is what you want?”
“Yes, Nana, it is.”
“Before I undo the spell that is keeping your lycan and most likely your true witch powers bonded, there is something you should know.” She swallowed hard. “Walker, your mother was once—“
There was a knock at the door, and Walker could have slammed his fist into the table. His grandmother was about to tell him something about his mother, and judging from the look in her eyes, it wasn’t something she was proud to share.
Shit.
“Are you expecting someone, Nana?”
She pressed her lips together into a pain-filled smile. “Actually, yes.”
Annabel pushed away from the table and made her way to the front door. The moment he heard Silence’s voice, he wished he had arrived sooner so he wouldn’t have to face her. He wasn’t ready. The next time he saw the woman he loved, he would be the lycan she could be honored to call her mate and there’d be no need to have Lance Hickman hanging around any longer.
* * * *
Silence stood at the door, waiting for Annabel Reed to answer. Just before she’d left the clinic, Silence had called to check in with Mrs. Reed. Showing up unannounced was improper, and secretly Silence did it so she could give Walker a heads-up in case he’d come to visit his grandmother. Whether Silence liked it or not, Walker may not want to see her again, and she’d have to come to terms with that soon enough.
At present, what she needed was to find out what Mrs. Reed knew about any mysterious events surrounding the council and anything she could share in regards to dysfunctional lycans that may have been around when her parents and Mr. Reed had been alive. As members of the council, they’d have insight. As the wife of a lycan councilman, Silence believed Mrs. Reed shared that insight. With any luck, Mrs. Reed would know exactly who their mystery lycan was.
The door opened, and Annabel Reed smiled. “Good morning, Sheriff Foster, please come in.”
“Than
k you, Mrs. Reed, but you of all people know you can call me Silence.”
“Well, I’ll only do that if you call me Nana.”
“Deal,” Silence said with a smile, stepping inside Annabel’s spacious country home.
Rustic, wide-open spaces with big, bulky furnishings filled the rooms. A large, fluffy, soft-blue recliner cried to be settled into with a knitted blanket, good book, and a cup of steaming coffee or tea. Annabel’s home had a welcoming vibration to it, and for as long as Silence could remember, it always had.
Being inside the home where she’d often dreamed of spending her childhood playing made her heart squeeze. She’d always been connected to Walker and wished more than anything that she could find a way to make things right between them once again.
Silence followed Mrs. Reed into the dining room, and she quickly gathered that Walker had been there recently. His scent still lingered, and the energy that pulsed from him was still present.
Silence was compelled to run after him, but she couldn’t get her mind and feet to agree. “Did I interrupt anything?” Silence asked.
“No, I was just visiting with Walker.” She scowled, glancing around the room. “It would appear he’s left.” She shrugged. “Maybe he just stepped outside.”
Silence wished that was where he’d gone, but she knew he’d heard her voice or knew she was coming over and left the moment she arrived. He didn’t want to face her.
“What can I do for you, my dear? You said you had questions about the council.” Mrs. Reed walked to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of water, placing it in front of Silence, gesturing for her to take the seat beside her.
“I know you are aware that we’ve got some unwelcome visitors in our town.”
“Yes,” she said, nodding and sipping her drink.
“Well, I think the lycan in charge of the violence is somehow familiar with our community, and judging from the evasive reaction the council gave me, I think they are well aware who is terrorizing Silent Falls.” Silence licked her dry lips and quickly took a drink of her water.
“So you think this lead lycan might’ve been around when my husband and your father were part of the council?”
Silence nodded. That was exactly what she believed. There was a connection somewhere, she just knew it. The behavior of the council, the way they seemed to avoid her questions, and the manner in which they inspected Lance all made her feel as if they knew a hell of a lot more then they let on.
Frowning, Annabel said, “Silence, I wish I could tell you I knew exactly who this lycan was, but I can’t. I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking.” She tapped her finger on the table nervously. “Dutch was secretive about so many things concerning council business. If he thought for one second that something was over my head, he’d simply keep it to himself. He didn’t always share details with me.” She took another sip, and Silence watched her hands shaking more than usual. “I’m afraid I’ve just gotten so old, my mind isn’t what it used to be.”
Silence could feel the wall of energy spring up around her. Annabel Reed was hiding something. Why did everyone wish to keep her in the dark? “Nana, are you sure you don’t remember anyone that might have been a guest of the council or even a council member who was banned? Maybe a visitor from another pack that had some kind of falling out?”
She shook her head, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for something. “I truly can’t say I remember anything like that.” She smiled, but the gesture didn’t reach her eyes. “If I happen to think of anything, you’ll be the first person I call.”
“I appreciate that.” Silence stood. She didn’t want to overstay her welcome, nor did she wish to upset the old woman, but she had one more question that she had to ask.
“Nana, do you believe Mr. Reed’s death was an accident?”
“Why are you asking me that?”
“I’m sorry. I know it’s not a subject you wish to think about, but I’ve been thinking that perhaps there’s more to my parents’ death than once investigated. Since Mr. Reed died close to the same time, I thought there might be a connection with the reason the council is being so secretive with me.”
Annabel inhaled a deep gulp of air and slowly blew it out. “Dear, you really shouldn’t think so hard. You’re going to give yourself an aneurysm.” She moved around Silence and led her back to the front door. “Now, like I said, should I think of anything, I’ll be sure to contact you immediately.”
Silence tried to smile. “Thank you, Nana.”
The moment the door closed behind her, she called her office and asked for all the files on both Mr. Dutch Reed and her parents to be put on her desk. She was going to do some digging of her own. For whatever reason, everyone around her seemed to want to avoid telling her the truth, which only made her believe even more that there was a serious connection between the council members and their mystery lycan.
* * * *
Walker popped out from around the corner of the living room and said, “You lied to her, Nana.”
She spun around to face him, her hands digging into her hips. “Of course I did, Walker. What she’s asking of me could get her killed, and I won’t have that on my hands.”
Brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
Annabel moved closer to her grandson, her hands grasping hold of his arms as she said, “Walker, your mother had an affair almost thirty years ago. The man she was with was named Verrick something. It’s been so long I can’t remember his full name, but I do know that he won your mother’s trust unnaturally fast.” Her eyes narrowed. “I was no fool to his wicked ways. He was after your mother’s powers and he—”
Walker took a seat on the couch, his eyes and mouth both open wide. “My mother cheated on my father?”
Annabel nodded as she sat beside him. “I’m so sorry to just blurt it out without feeling, but I truly believe that this could be the lycan who’s come to town.”
A sudden wave of power sank to his stomach, and a dozen questions swirled in his head. “Why would he come back now? What does he want?”
Annabel took hold of his hand, squeezing it gently. The whites of her eyes became more prominent as she said, “Isn’t it obvious, Walker? He wants you.”
Chapter Ten
Silence sleepily sauntered into her cluttered apartment and instantly kicked off her boots. Flipping on every light switch, she navigated her way over discarded shoes, magazines, and even clothing that she’d yanked off and tossed the moment she walked through the door. Long days and sleepless nights made straightening up the last thing on her mind.
Her hip grazed the back of a tan suede recliner that doubled as a clothing rack. The kitchen itself wasn’t a mess outside of the sink that was stacked high with dirty dishes.
Cleanliness might be next to godliness, but with a busy schedule like the one she’d had over the last several weeks, it was going to take an army of maids to help tidy up this quaint one-bedroom apartment, either that or possibly a vacation, and at the moment that didn’t seem possible.
Making her way to the refrigerator, she grabbed a cold beer, popped the top, and chugged back several gulps. With a long, drawn- out gasp, she leaned against the counter and thought about the day she’d had.
Lucky for her, she had decided not to visit the nearest bar before heading home. As it was, her day had sucked, but as much as she would’ve enjoyed drowning her worries away at the only pub in town, Roscoe’s Roadhouse, she was sure every patron in town would have unloaded a ton of questions on her. Why was she there? An obvious question considering she never imbibed in public. What’s going on in their private little town? Who’s raising all kinds of hell, destroying and vandalizing private and public property? Is it safe?
There was no such thing as a private life for a public servant. Once she was in the sights of the townsfolk, she was fair game and visible for attack.
Frankly, Silence didn’t care much for talking anymore about it, and in large part to her sanity and
sheer will, she avoided the turnoff that would’ve taken her right to the bar. She knew she needed a clear head in order to spend the time needed to sort through the files she picked up from her office.
The stack of papers was thinner than she’d remembered, and that troubled her. When she’d first taken a look at her parents’ case when she’d joined the sheriff’s office, she recalled there being several eyewitness accounts of the accident. After a quick perusal through the files, she noted that all names had been removed, as if an investigation had never been conducted.
What the hell is going on?
Flopping down onto her tan suede sofa, now covered in throw blankets and dirty laundry, she opened up Dutch Reed’s file. The opening profile page was stamped with the words “Accidental Death”. The man had fallen off a cliff.
What seemed odd to her kind, especially Silence, was that lycans had outstanding balance, and there weren’t too many cliffs in Silent Falls to accidently fall from. The entire situation smelled foul and made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
Could someone from the council have killed Dutch Reed and her parents, and if that were the case, then what was the reason? What had they seen or done to make them the target for murder?
Had her parents and Dutch been investigating something that the rest of the council wanted left alone? Was it some kind of conspiracy? Were they onto something that would’ve changed the council forever?
A shiver charged up her spine as she considered the possibility that she was placing herself in danger by digging up the past. Her instincts were shouting that there was so much more going on than she might ever uncover, but her drive to learn more wouldn’t allow her to stop. She knew it might be a mistake, acting like the virgin who went in search of the strange noise in the middle of the night, but she couldn’t help it. Finding out how to protect Lance and freeing her town had to be her first priorities, regardless of the dangers.