by J. K Harper
“And a wolf shifter.” Though I tried valiantly to hide it, this time the disbelief was evident in my tone.
She gave me a deadpan stare. “Do you think we go around eating people?”
“No, of course not!” Though…to be honest, I hadn’t been one hundred percent sure. I had hoped they didn’t, but I’d never been a part of a healthy pack before. The men who’d held me prisoner had been nothing short of savages, so maybe my view was a little skewed. “Don’t wolves hunt?”
“Some do, but only for fun. Rabbits, deer, and the like. We don’t kill them. Why would we when we eat as humans?”
Not really ever having had the chance to delve this deep into the shifter psyche, I couldn’t help but ask. “But…you could? Live as your animal and survive in the wild.”
“Well, yes. But why would we want to? And it’s dangerous, too much time shifted into my wolf and I might never want to come back. Might not be able to. I’ve heard stories of shifters who got stuck in their animal form, forced to abandon humanity and eventually losing their minds.”
I filed the information away for later, though—to be honest, the thought scared me. Lizzie was a wolf shifter, the thought that she might change and never come back? I shivered.
“You don’t like blood,” I repeated, bringing the conversation back on track.
“You know that the pack recently came under new leadership?”
I nodded. Amanda and Tarq had been the best thing to happen to Smithrock in years, or so I had been told. Anyone else was before my time.
“They’ve decided that someone needs to be trained in first aid, in case of emergencies.”
“But I thought shifters were virtually impervious to harm?” The words had no sooner left my mouth when the realization hit me. “It’s for the humans, right?”
The other woman nodded. “The pack has grown—is still growing—and humans now make up a large part of our numbers.” She shrugged, looking a lot more at ease now that she’d relieved her burden. “Also, sometimes even shifters need medical help. Take having babies, for example. I’d much rather have someone around who knew what they were doing.”
“Like a doctor?”
“Jack Everson, you mean?” Monica blew out a breathy sigh, her bangs floating in the air as she tilted her head back. “Now that’s a man I wouldn’t mind giving me a physical.”
At my silence, she shot me a sly look.
“I saw you two shooting the breeze earlier—”
“We bumped into each other.”
“Lucky girl,” she murmured, her eyes narrowing as she stared at me.
“Nothing happened!” As the words shot out I already knew I’d made a fatal mistake.
“Did you want something to happen?”
“No.” There. That should do it.
But the look she gave me was one of incredulous disbelief.
Dammit.
She pursed her lips, considering me with a calculated gleam in her eyes. “He’s good looking, built for the bedroom, kind, generous, a good listener, funny—”
Pulling my hair over my shoulder, I raked my fingers through the thick mass, separating the length into three bundles. “Funny? He seemed quite serious to me.” I was trying for nonchalance, but was pretty sure it fell flat.
“Hilarious.”
Her deadpan delivery had me questioning her authority on the subject, but I had a weakness for funny. Which was why I liked Monica so much. With a past like mine, laughter was a commodity I valued.
Twining my hair into a thick braid, I considered my friend. “Okay…he can’t be that bad then.”
She blinked at me, her lips forming a circle of surprise. “Bad? Girl, you need your head examined! If he’d only look twice at me, but he’s been nothing but professional and nice on the odd occasion we’ve spoken.”
“You don’t know him that well, then?” I shouldn’t have asked. I should have let the subject of Jack drop.
“He only moved back home a couple of months ago. Add in that he’s a part of the Everson clan, and our paths don’t cross that often.”
“That’s the bear clan, right?”
“Yup. Five brothers, can you believe it?”
“Must have driven their mom insane,” I mused, trying to imagine five Jacks, and failing horribly. I couldn’t imagine another man quite like him.
“Two mated already, three to go.” The speculative gleam was back.
“Hey!” I protested, flicking my fingers at her in a shooing gesture. “I’m not interested. I escaped a mating, remember?”
Though her eyes darkened at the reminder, flicking to the base of my throat as though she could see through the thick cotton of my shirt to the mess of scars below, she huffed, brushing off my concern. “If you’re really not interested, then you won’t mind attending the training, right?”
“Training?” Alarm bells were starting to ring.
“At the clinic.”
“Clinic?”
“Jack’s clinic.”
“He’s the one giving the training?”
“Yup. And since you’re not interested, you’ll be able to keep your mind on the task and pass with flying colors.” She sat back, looking like the cat that got the canary.
“I’m not sure I’m—”
“The pack would really appreciate it, and it would give you something to fill your days with.”
Double damn! Railroaded. I desperately tried to think of three reasons to say no…nothing. I couldn’t exactly refuse, given that I owed the pack everything. And she knew it.
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
Chapter 5
Jack
Waving goodbye to Kara and James, I tried unsuccessfully to brush off the overwhelming sense of unease that had hung over me like a cloud for the last hour. There was nothing wrong; everyone was healthy. Kara’s pregnancy was progressing without complications, her mate the only stress in her life. Something the pack was unused to, but sorely needed after the shit storm they’d survived a few months ago.
No, it was something else. But try as I might, I couldn’t put my finger on it.
I should be happy—I was happy. I was back home, doing a job I loved, surrounded by the people I cared for. I’d found my true mate, something I’d dreamed about but had almost given up hope of ever achieving. I knew I had a long road ahead of me to win Gina over, but I was ready. I’d been born ready.
So, what was it?
Snow crunched under my feet, the sound slicing through the otherwise silent forest as I pondered the problem. Hunching down into my fleece jacket, I dug my free hand into my pocket, swinging my black doctor’s bag back and forth in my other hand.
It all centered around Gina. Was it Lizzie? Was I bothered she already had a child?
No way. I loved kids, and didn’t care one way or another if the child was mine by way of DNA. In my head and heart, the second I’d realized who Gina was to me, I’d claimed Lizzie as mine. That she was a wolf wasn’t the issue either.
Was it her attachment to the wolf pack? Did I feel threatened?
Reaching the edge of the forest, I crossed over the road and headed up Main Street, weighing the question.
“Afternoon, Doctor!”
“Afternoon,” I called back, echoing the same greeting to several more townspeople.
No, I decided. I’d do anything to make my mate happy, and if that meant joining Smithrock, then so be it. It’s not like I’d be turning my back on my clan, we were more like a family unit than the wolf packs, and family ties couldn’t be broken.
Coming up blank, I shoved the unease to the back of my mind, shelving it for the time being. It could be fear, after all, that she would say no.
Pushing open the door to the steakhouse, I sucked in a deep breath as hot air hit me square in the face, bringing with it the familiar mouthwatering scents of food being prepared for the evening rush.
“Hey, bro,” a disembodied voice called out.
Tracking the voice to the bar area, I
leaned over the counter, finding Ralph sprawled out on the floor.
“Taking a nap?”
“I wish,” my brother grumbled, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Damn machine broke.” He jerked a thumb at the machine in question, and I bit back a groan—my dream of a decent cup of coffee flying out the window.
“You’re not meant to try and fix it yourself.” Especially being as technologically phobic as you are, I added silently, managing to bite my tongue at the last moment.
He shrugged, waving a wrench around the way he might wield a ladle. “Why not? I figured it couldn’t be that hard.”
“And now?”
“It’s the devil.” Scowling, he shoved himself up off the floor, and slammed the wrench down on the counter. “It wouldn’t be so bad if it were mechanical, but it has all these wires!”
“It’s a coffee machine, not a car.”
“With how much it cost, I should be able to drive it,” he muttered. Shoving inky black hair out of his eyes, he gave the machine one last glare.
I knew I’d regret it, but… “Do you want me to give it a go?”
The wrench was in my hand before I’d finished the sentence. I glanced at it, then laid it down on the counter. “I don’t think a wrench is the right tool for the job.” Snapping my bag open, I rifled around inside, finally pulling out a long pair of tweezers and a tiny screwdriver.
His eyebrows flew up as he eyed my tools. “Screwdriver? In a doctor’s bag? What the hell do you use that for?”
“Fixing stuff that’s not breathing. Like your machine.” I’d always been fascinated with how things worked. I knew that I approached medicine the same way that an engineer might fix a machine, looking at the problem as a whole and considering how the many parts worked together. I loved how both were a never ending puzzle with a multitude of possible outcomes, each insisting on a different diagnosis depending on existing conditions and environmental situations. It was an outlook I kept to myself, pretty sure that others in my field would consider me either deluded or high on power. But after so many years, many different specialties, and retraining two—or was it now three?—times, seeing it as a puzzle was the only thing that gave me the strength to keep going. The constant war with life and death was a battle that threatened to tear me apart, each loss worse than the one before, the high from each win fading faster than the last.
I needed the separation. The mental challenge to keep me sane.
So, in my spare time, I fixed machines. Any kind, big or small. They couldn’t die on me.
It was another reason why I was glad to be home; shifters didn’t die as often as humans.
Hunkering down, I carefully pried off the front panel. “I don’t suppose you have the manual on hand?”
With a grunt, Ralph disappeared into the back, the sound of drawers being wrenched open and cupboards being slammed drifting back through to me.
“This it?”
Catching the paper booklet being wafted at me, I flicked through to find the page I needed. Yup, exactly as I’d thought. Replacing the front panel, I stood up.
“You didn’t do anything.”
Strolling across the bar, I reached up and flicked a switch. The machine buzzed to life with a contented gurgle.
“Damn.”
Ignoring his scowl, I grabbed a mug and waited until it was filled to the brim with frothy coffee. Dumping three sugars in and giving it a quick stir, I took a grateful sip. Much better.
“Where’s mine?”
The way he was eyeing my cup had me curling my hand around it protectively. On a closer glance, I spied the remains of a hangover clouding his eyes and paling his skin. “Late night?” Sliding another mug under the spout, two seconds later I handed him the steaming brew.
“It’s always a late night, part and parcel of being in the restaurant trade.” Taking a sip, he melted gratefully down onto a stool.
“Bullshit.” He had to be drinking a hell of a lot to still have a hangover in the middle of the afternoon, not to mention it took a herculean effort to get a shifter drunk in the first place.
“Whatever.” He took another slurp, avoiding my eyes.
“Ralph, you need to—”
“What I need is to not talk about it. Not now, not ever. Capiche?” His dark eyes hardened, determination staring out at me.
Whatever the hell was going on with him, he wasn’t up for sharing. “One day you’ll tell me.”
“Nope. I won’t.”
It was my turn to give him a hard stare, letting him know I wasn’t giving up. “Not today, but you will. And I’ll be there for you.”
“Quit it with the touchy feely bullshit and tell me what the hell you’re here bugging me for.” It sounded harsh, but I knew he didn’t mean it. I’d touched a nerve.
I was calling it progress, but I made a mental note to chase up Craig and Ryan and get their take on it. They’d been around the last few years, so they might know more about what the hell was going on with him.
“I’ve found my mate.” I couldn’t help the smug grin that spread over my face, the joy overtaking any lingering worries or doubts.
His eyebrows shot up. “No way! You’ve only just gotten back to town! Who?”
I couldn’t blame him for the hint of jealousy in his voice, he was the oldest of us all, but any hint of green was well disguised by happiness for me.
“Gina. She lives up at Smithrock.”
“Gina…Gina…Gina… Nope, I don’t think I know her.” His brow creased into a frown.
“She’s human—”
“Oh shit, sorry, man.” And there you had it, he’d cottoned on to my problem.
Resting my elbows on the bar, I resisted the urge to bury my head in my hands. “Yeah. She’s had a rough time. She has a kid—Lizzie—I think she’s about five.”
Ralph blew out a low whistle, shaking his head in what I was guessing was a mixture of disgust and disbelief. “Makes you want to go out and kill someone, right?”
I nodded. “If he weren’t dead already…”
He pushed away from the bar, depositing his mug in the small, stainless steel sink with a clatter. “Well, you’ll be good for her. If there’s anyone who is equipped to deal with those sort of mental wounds, it’s you.”
I wish I had as much faith in myself as my brother obviously did. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was at a loss at what to do next. Maybe that’s the problem? “I need a plan.”
“How about you try the obvious? Ask her out. None of you guys go the simple route,” he muttered, sliding bottles out of a case and stacking them in the fridge.
“Like you, you mean?”
He didn’t falter, continuing his methodical restocking, but he couldn’t fool me. I’d grown up with him; I knew all his tells. So, he did know who his mate was.
“Ralph—”
A deep sigh, then, “Later, okay? Maybe when you’ve sorted out your own love life we’ll talk.”
The complete lack of emotion in his voice told me I’d pushed him hard enough for one day. He was right. I had my own problems to concentrate on for the time being.
“So what’re you going to do then?” he asked.
“Find a way to spend time with her.” Gut instinct told me that if I asked her out, she’d run a mile, but if she got to know me…
“Sounds like a plan,” he stated with a nod. Clapping me on the shoulder, he squeezed. “You know, it’s good to have you back, bro.”
“Likewise.”
“Why did you come home? I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
I didn’t want to lie to him, or to any of my family, but I wasn’t quite ready to tell them the truth yet. And now that I’d met Gina, everything had changed. “Like you said, let’s save that for another day, hey?” I had my plate full as it was, trying to figure out an excuse to return to Smithrock and somehow convince Gina to spend time with me. There had to be a way.
And anyway, if everything went well, there’d be nothing to tell.
>
Chapter 6
Gina
It’ll be fine. It was my new mantra as I turned onto Main Street, wondering how the hell I’d managed to allow myself to be talked into this situation.
Thing is, once Monica had explained the situation, I hadn’t really been able to say no. And when she’d pointed out that I’d receive a real qualification, I hadn’t wanted to say no. I’d never had a job, never worked, had no references or qualifications other than what I’d managed to earn at school. I was starting from scratch in a world that had continued on turning without me.
Smoothing my hands down my jeans, I surreptitiously wiped my clammy palms, then unzipped my jacket to check for the hundredth time that my blouse was buttoned up straight. A quick glance in a passing window told me my braid had survived the trek down through the forest, and I didn’t look half as nervous as I felt.
It’d be good for me; meeting and socializing with strangers. People who, hopefully, I might be able to turn into new friends. Stretching my boundaries, testing my limits, learning new skills.
I sounded like one of those self-help books. Which admittedly, I had tried at first, abandoning it when it became apparent none of them knew crap about the kind of thing I’d been through.
Unique, lucky me. My sarcasm throttle turned on full, I rolled back my shoulders and lengthened my stride.
Maybe I’d find out something about myself today, something surprising or awesome. When I looked in the mirror, I recognized the woman staring back at me, but the weird thing was, I knew nothing about her. She didn’t have any strong likes or dislikes, didn’t go crazy for chocolate, or cry at a sad story. She didn’t dream or hope or want. She existed, but she was frozen in time.
And that was going to change.
Sticking my chin out, I pasted a smile on my face.
“Good morning!”
Pleased with myself for not flinching, I waved back at the woman who’d called out. “Morning!” I slowed, not wanting to race by and appear rude.
The other woman turned her head to the sky, her eyes half closing as she sucked in a deep breath. “There’s nothing like the sun on a winter morning, right?” She put down her broom, taking a break from her task of sweeping slush and grit from the sidewalk, and leaning back against the bakery store window in which she obviously worked.