The Alpha's Justice

by Michelle Fox

  The Alpha’s Justice (Huntsville Pack Book 2)

  Michelle Fox

  Copyright 2015. All Rights Reserved.

  Blurb

  What’s an alpha to do when he’s found his fated mate, but she reacts to the news by kicking him in the balls?

  Gretchen Halbmond became a diehard Daddy’s girl the day her mother ran out on them both. She doesn’t believe in love and isn’t looking for it, but when her ailing father is attacked and left bloody by wolves on the wrong side of the law, she goes out in search of what she does believe in: Justice.

  Sheriff Talon Garde has way too much on his plate. Humans have breached shifters' carefully guarded privacy and are about to go public. If he can’t stop them, what happened to Gretchen’s father is going to be the least of everyone’s worries.

  More importantly, despite Talon’s rep as a badass alpha whose growl strikes fear in the hearts of criminals, Gretchen’s scent makes him go all squishy inside. She’s THE ONE, he’s sure of it. There’s just the small matter of convincing Gretchen it’s pointless to fight fate…and surviving the way she fights it.

  Standalone novel with NO cliffhanger.

  NOTE: While this is book 2 of the Huntsville Pack series, all the books are completely standalone. The series does revisit favorite characters, but the plots don’t carry over from book to book, they are resolved at the end of each story.

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  Disclaimer

  All events depicted are fictional. Characters are consenting adults. Any resemblance to places and persons, living or dead, is unintentional coincidence.

  Every effort has been made to provide a quality reading experience, but editors and technology are fallible. Please report typos or formatting issues to MichelleFoxwrites@gmail.com. You’d tell a girl if she had lipstick on her teeth, right? Please do the same for typos and formatting flubs.

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  Acknowledgements

  To my family, my dogs who inspire all sorts of shifter shenanigans, my beta readers who save my butt¸ all the readers who enjoy this book and to the Wolf Pack—the best reader group in the world.

  Chapter One

  ~Gretchen~

  Focus on keeping it human. Don’t go too fast or too slow. Don’t sweat, and for the love of the full moon, don’t whine or sprout hair.

  Gretchen tried to keep it together as she carefully cracked eggs into the mixing bowl, hyper aware of Lucas DeSanto’s eyes watching her every move. Normally she cracked eggs with one hand, but her nerves forced her to fall back on both. It was either that or let the man see how much she was shaking. He had a stare that made her wonder if he was a shifter, but her nose told her the truth. He was plain ol’ human. Nothing more. Still, his intensity unnerved Gretchen and reminded her of her alpha back home. At least her wolf was relatively quiet. When she blinked she caught glimpses of her other half snoozing.

  Breathe, girl. You got this. You haven’t screwed up eggs since you were ten.

  But she’d never made them for the best restaurant in Nashville either. Lucas owned the five star Bistro Blue and served a unique French-Asian fusion that made Gretchen’s mouth water just thinking of it. If she could land a job in Lucas’ kitchen, she would get an amazing education and entry into the world of high end food. The timing was perfect. She’d just finished culinary school and was ready for the next big step.

  They’d already discussed her résumé and background. All that was left was to scramble some eggs to prove she really could cook. She’d spent years preparing for this moment, even moving hours away from home to go to culinary school and living without a pack to do so. She would be damned if she was going to screw it up now. This was what she’d wanted to do since she was a little girl; make great food and learn from the best.

  Wiping her hands on her apron, she picked up the whisk and began to mix the eggs, popping the yolks until everything turned yellow. Lucas remained silent, which made her think he didn’t like what he saw. Frowning, she focused on her technique, making sure to wield the whisk properly.

  Just as she went to pour the eggs into the pan, her phone came to life in her pocket. She ignored it, although she winced as it rang. Gretchen didn’t bother with ring tones, which meant her phone blared like a bell crossed with a horn whenever someone called. This was the default setting and it had never been a big deal…until now.

  “Crap,” she murmured under her breath. Her wolf stirred and began to pace, ears alert.

  “I don’t allow my staff to carry phones with them when they’re working,” Lucas’ baritone boomed in the empty kitchen, loud and full of judgment.

  Heat flushed her cheeks. “Sorry. Is there a locker or someplace to stash my stuff when I’m working?”

  Lucas tilted his head as he regarded her, his expression closed. “Yes. We have a bank of lockers.”

  “Great,” she said brightly. “I’ll be sure to leave my phone there then.” The phone in question was still ringing, but she didn’t dare stop stirring the eggs and she would need both hands to unwind the apron blocking access to her pocket, which left her little chance of shutting it off. Desperate, she fumbled with one hand, trying to grab the thing through the fabric of her clothing and somehow shut it up.

  It continued to blare. Her wolf hated that sound and started to howl.

  Who the hell was calling her? It was eight a.m. No one she knew was up this early. Certainly not anyone from her home pack. Werewolves ran wild all night and slept in as a general rule. Early morning phone calls were the height of rudeness.

  The phone fell silent for a second.

  Oh thank the full moon. She sighed with relief and was pleased to see the eggs were coming along nicely. “Just about finished.”

  Lucas peered into the pan, his brow furrowed as he studied her cooking. “Hmmm,” he said, non-committal.

  Her phone rang. Again. Gretchen gritted her teeth. “Sorry.” Deeming the eggs done, she turned off the stove and moved to plate them. The interview already had her on edge and now the stupid phone was making her break into a sweat. She was going to need a shower after this. At least werewolf hair hadn’t started sprouting from her forearms.

  That had happened to her before, most notably in high school when she’d had a solo in the school’s choir concert. One she didn’t really prepare for, and when she found herself on stage unable to remember a single word, her body had started shifting. By the end of the song, she’d been half werewolf and her classmates couldn’t stop laughing.

  Lucas watched her closely as she worked, his presence looming like a heavy shadow. Gretchen tried not to panic. The stress of the interview and the memory of her past humiliation were making her neck itch…like maybe the hair back there was growing.

  The phone stopped ringing. Oh, thank goodness. She handed the plate to Lucas with a warm smile. “Enjoy.”

  Lucas poked at the eggs with a fork just as her phone started up again.

  “What is going on?” Gretchen muttered as she yanked off her apron. She’d wound the strings around her waist and then over her hips, neatly cutting off access to her pockets. She would remember not to do that again. Freeing the damn phone from her pocket she glared at it as the screen flickered on. “No one ever calls me like this.”<
br />
  She frowned as a number she didn’t recognize came up, although the area code was the same as back home. Deciding to ignore it, she dismissed the call, cutting it off mid-ring, but then a soft ding marked the arrival of a text message. Seeing that Lucas was still preoccupied with her eggs, she checked it.

  Listen, bitch. If you want your father to live, you’d better get your ass home. I’m running out of patience which is a very bad thing for your old man.

  Another text arrived. A picture. Gretchen blinked at it, unable to make sense of it at first. Her initial impression was of a wet splotch of maroon against a ghost white background. After a second, her brain deciphered what she was looking at: Her father. Beaten bloody.

  That’s his skull. I can see his skull.

  Her heart began to race and her hands shook so much she almost dropped her phone. She had to go. Right now.

  “Miss Halbmond, your eggs are competent,” Lucas pronounced, turning to her with a warm smile on his face and a hand extended toward her. “I would love to have you join our team.”

  “I-I-I have to go,” Gretchen said. She spun on her heel and raced to his office where she’d left her purse.

  Lucas trailed after her, a look of confusion on his face. “I don’t understand.”

  “Sorry. Family emergency.” Her wolf growled and Gretchen was so frantic she failed to contain it. The deep rumble shook her chest and made Lucas’ eyes go wide.

  Crap.

  She ran out the door, hoping he didn’t notice that she was moving too fast. The last thing she needed was to ping a human’s ‘something’s freaky’ radar. Shifters and other paranormals lived secret lives that humans weren’t ever supposed to know about. But her dad was in trouble and there wasn’t anything Gretchen wouldn’t do for him. If she flashed a little wolf in the process of taking care of her family, so be it.

  ***

  She ran through the cool, early spring air to her battered Honda Civic and jumped in, her heart racing. Yanking on her seatbelt and then starting the car, she dialed her dad with the other.

  No answer.

  Shit. Her wolf paced and scanned the horizon for danger.

  She called Cal, the alpha of her pack in Huntsville.

  No answer there either.

  Double shit.

  She then tapped the phone number associated with the texts she’d just received, but no one picked up and the call didn’t go to voicemail. Whoever this asshole was, he didn’t want to talk.

  Gretchen went back to trying to reach someone at home, going through her contacts and calling them one by one, but she couldn’t get ahold of anyone. Maybe it was just bad phone reception. The hills of Appalachia that housed her pack wreaked havoc with everything from cell phone signals to internet speed. Or perhaps, despite the early hour, there was some kind of big pack pow-wow going on. No one took their cell phones to the pack clearing.

  She hit call on the last number in her contacts and sent a wordless prayer up to the moon.

  “Hello?” said a warm, feminine voice in her ear.

  Gretchen frowned as her wolf whined inside her head. The last number she’d dialed had been for Jackson, the wolf slated to replace Cal when the time came. While she barely knew the guy, she did know she should be hearing a man’s voice. “Umm, hi. I think I have the wrong number. I was hoping to reach Jackson.”

  The woman chuckled. “No, you dialed right. I’m Chloe, his mate. Who is this?”

  “Oh, right. Hi.” She’d heard that Chloe and Jackson had mated. It had been a big scandal, but she didn’t have time to worry about it just then. “I’m Gretchen. My dad’s Hank.” Her tires squealed as she pulled out of the restaurant’s parking lot and headed for the highway. It was a long drive to get back home and she planned on gunning it the whole way.

  “Oh yeah, Hank. Sweet guy, your dad,” said Chloe. There was the clink of dishes in the background and the faint sound of something sizzling. Probably breakfast given how early it was.

  “Thanks. Um, something’s happened.” She put on her blinker and passed a Mercedes going forty in a sixty mile per hour zone. “I need help and I can’t get a hold of anyone.”

  “What is it?”

  Gretchen filled Chloe in on what had happened so far. “Can you check on my dad? I’m not even sure if he’s home, but I’m a couple hours away and I need to know if he’s okay.”

  “Yes, of course. Jacks and I will go right now and see if he’s there.”

  “Thank you.” Gretchen finally took a deep breath for the first time since she received that nasty text.

  “Give us about thirty minutes. We’ll call you back.”

  They said their goodbyes and hung up. Gretchen floored the accelerator, cursing the frugal instincts that had caused her to go for a gas efficient car as opposed to something that could actually hustle when necessary. She could practically feel the motor straining under her foot as she demanded more and more from it. Her wolf kept running off into the distance and then coming back for her when she couldn’t keep up.

  Forty minutes later her phone rang. She fumbled with the phone. “Yes.”

  “Hi, Gretchen. It’s me, Jackson.” His voice boomed in her ear, full of authority and concern that instantly alarmed her. “Your dad is in bad shape. You need to come home.”

  “How bad is it?” She bit her lip as she waited for his answer. Even her wolf held her breath.

  Jackson sighed. “Someone gave him a hell of a beating. Given his age, the healing is slow.”

  Gretchen growled and punched the accelerator with her foot. “Is he going to be okay?” Tears brimmed in her eyes and she fought to hold them back. If she couldn’t see the road, she wouldn’t do her dad any good.

  “I think so. We’ve called Marie and are waiting on her. She might be able to help. How far away are you?”

  Gretchen bit her lip again, worrying it this time between her top and bottom teeth. Marie was the pack healer and if they had to call her, things weren’t good. Most shifters healed on their own, calling the healer was a last ditch effort to save someone. “Maybe an hour and a half.”

  “Just come as fast as you can.”

  “I’m working on it. I’ll be there soon.” She hung up and tossed her phone onto the passenger seat. It had been her and her dad against the world since she was four. Her mother was a foggy memory, so distant and far away she may as well have been a star in another galaxy. Ever since she’d run out on them both, they’d leaned on each other.

  He’d been her rock, she’d been his and that was all she’d ever wanted. Having seen how mating worked for her parents, she lost interest in the whole concept early on. Mate for life? Fated to be together? Puh-leeze. What a joke.

  No, she was content with her dad and her cooking. She didn’t want or need anyone (or anything) else.

  But now she understood in a visceral, heartbreaking way that her dad wouldn’t live forever. And where would that leave her?

  Chapter Two

  ~Gretchen~

  Gretchen drove up the winding roads of the Appalachian hill her pack claimed as theirs, going as fast as she dared around the hairpin curves. She recognized all the trees and rocks, having explored every inch in her wolf form. Humans thought that home could only be a house, but she considered all of Appalachia hers. Walls weren’t the only things that mattered; grass and meadows, tall trees and large rocks also provided shelter.

  She rolled down her window and sucked in the scent of evergreen and damp earth. Normally, this was the first moment she felt like she’d come home, but she was too worried about her dad to take much comfort in anything. Her main focus was on getting to her dad. He needed her and she needed him. Gripping the steering wheel tight in her hands, she pushed her car to go faster up a steep incline leading to the next hairpin turn.

  Her house sat on the outskirts of Huntsville, her pack’s small hometown, something for which she was grateful. Werewolves gossiped like clucking chickens and she wasn’t ready to deal with whispers behind her b
ack just yet. The last thing she wanted to do was drive past the little strip of brick façade storefronts that made up downtown. Half the pack would be there for lunch at the Moon Struck Café or running errands at either the post office or the Victorian mansion that had housed the pack’s first alpha a hundred years ago, but now served as city hall. Once they spotted her car, their tongues would start clucking.

  Glad she at least didn’t have to worry about gossip just yet, she pulled into the gravel drive leading to the brick ranch she’d grown up in. The early spring sky was bright blue with puffy cotton ball clouds, and when Gretchen stepped out of her car, the scent of pine along with the sweetness of newly bloomed flowers filled her nose. She frowned, not liking how the world went on its happy way when her life was falling apart. Her wolf paced back and forth, rippling under her skin, wanting to break through and protect her family. Gretchen held her back with gritted teeth. Shifting now wouldn’t help things.

  Jackson opened the door and stepped onto the porch, his expression serious. He lifted a hand in greeting. “Gretchen.”

  “Jackson.” She dipped her head in a show of respect. It wasn’t required, but she’d been raised with her father’s old fashioned manners. Not to mention Jackson radiated power that demanded some kind of acknowledgment. Most alphas did. “Is he…” She couldn’t finish the question. The strength to say those particular words --dead, dying, gone-- had left her.

  “He’s hanging on. Marie’s working with him right now.” He motioned her into the house and she crossed the threshold feeling like a stranger visiting a nightmare. Everything looked the same; the worn carpet in the living room and the old-school floral print on the couch. Her awkward school pictures lined up in a row over the couch. She had to blink back tears when she saw them. He’d always hung them so carefully, beaming the whole time. Her dad had made the pine table in the dining room and he’d also made the kitchen cabinets out of the same wood. It was the home she’d been born in, but at the moment, it held sinister shadows that threatened to consume her with fear and loss.