by Holley Trent
“Take your time,” Lora said. She set the walkie-talkie on her desktop and turned her wrist over to expose her watch’s face. “Can I leave you here for a few minutes? I just want to check on a contractor who was sitting around too much for my liking.”
“Sure. I’m sorry I didn’t think to make an appointment.”
“Don’t worry about it. Feel free to take a walk. I might be gone a little while if I have to throw my inconsiderable weight around.”
Christina chuckled. Inconsiderable sounded about right. She wasn’t much more imposing than Christina, but Christina suspected Lora demanded respect in other ways than through her size. Christina could probably take some lessons from her. “Can you tell me where Anton is?”
Lora waved her over to the window and pointed down. “Easy enough to figure out for a wolf, right? Halls are twisty-turny here.”
“Yeah, easy enough.”
Christina made her way down to the back courtyard where Adam, Anton, and the other two wolves she didn’t know the names of watched a few men fire bullets into targets mounted on hay bales, set about two hundred yards into the desert.
Cringing, she slipped quietly past the wolves she didn’t know and waited for the shooting to stop.
Rifles.
Gods, she hated them. Was always afraid one would accidently go off. She felt like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs when loaded guns were around. The unloaded ones were no problem, though. She was logical enough to be comfortable with those, but once ammunition was added to the equation, there wasn’t much she could do for the anxiety. Still, she was better now than she was ten years ago. Her brothers made her shoot. Forced her to handle guns, especially when she didn’t want to. Having a loaded weapon in her hands always made her feel a little more equal, even if her hands shook as she lined up her shots.
Sidling up to Anton, she briefly observed each of the potential hires. If they were true professionals, at that range, none of them should have had much trouble hitting the bull’s-eye at least some of the time. Out of the five contenders, only two were hitting it with any regularity, and they were slow shooters, putting three seconds or more between each shot.
She cast a questioning look up at her handsome wolf, already forgetting what she’d come down for. He smiled at her, and her body tingled as she remembered what they’d done all night.
She dragged her shirtsleeve across her heated brow. What did I come here for?
He leaned in and whispered, “We were doing okay with these guys up until this part. I don’t know if they’re going to work.”
Work. Right! That had been why she’d stormed to the mansion. “Um, do they have to be able to shoot from this distance?”
“It’d help a hell of a lot if they could, but if they meet other qualifications, we might be able to find a place for them. Close guard duty. We were really hoping to find some guys to work the grounds, though. For that, they need to be sharper shots. You should have told me you were coming.”
She shoved her hands into her pockets and forced down the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat. “I got bored.” And unsure. Anxious. She was scared again that he didn’t really want her, but just looking at him now, it was obvious he didn’t feel that way. He wasn’t cold to her. He didn’t try to push her aside or minimize her presence, just because those other wolves were around.
The interviewees must have run out of bullets, because one by one, they turned to face the wolves.
Adam let out a long sigh and raked a hand through his messy salt-and-pepper hair. It was so thick and wild, it almost made him look like a wolf in his man form. He took the rifle from the man at the first station, loaded some ammo into it, and put the gun to his shoulder. He fired off three quick shots, which flew into the bull’s-eye, one behind the other. “It ain’t just about aim,” he said. “You assholes need to prove to me you can actually fucking see.” He threw up his free hand. “Maybe the first step in the interviewing process should be a basic vision test, ’cause goddamn, for you all to be so highly trained—supposedly—you can’t shoot worth a shit.”
“Come on, man,” one of the would-be hires said. “We’re operating on about three hours of sleep between the five of us. Of course we’re not going to hit every shot.”
“My crew can go days at a time without proper sleep, and the boys almost always hit their targets.”
Anton tensed beside her, and she looked up to see his grimace.
Oh. He’d said he was a weaker shot now. She squeezed his hand.
“Don’t give me that fucking excuse,” Adam said. “Try another.”
“Why don’t we just show them?” one of the wolves said. He extended his hand, and contestant number three handed over the rifle. The wolf indicated to the other wolves behind him. Anton and—well, What’s-his-name.
What’s-his-name got himself a gun and took a lane.
Anton stood frozen, and Christina’s heart broke for him. It’d been so easy for her to dismiss his complaints about his shortcomings, but she’d never once saw him as being less than. But just because she didn’t agree, it didn’t mean that his own opinion didn’t seriously affect his performance. She gripped his wrist and pulled his gaze down to her. Whatever he chose to do, she wouldn’t judge him for it.
He gave her hand a squeeze in return and took the weapon contestant number five held out.
She followed, standing beside him as he loaded a fresh cartridge. His jaw was tense, breathing erratic, and good eye a bit wide. “I’m not much of a shot,” she whispered to him. “But I always shoot with one eye closed. I never could do both eyes open. I always worried something would fly into them.”
“I would have been okay if I still had use of my dominant eye.”
“You’re going to be okay, anyway. I’ll help you.”
“Waitin’ on you, Anton,” one of the wolves said. “If you need a pep talk, I can give you much better motivation via my foot up your ass. Go on and get your shots off so we can do the impressive stuff right after.”
Christina rolled her eyes and put her back to him. “Ignore him. I had to get real used to that in my last pack.”
“He’ll just get louder.”
“Let him. You don’t care, do you? They call you Beast, so earn your name.”
He chuckled. “All right, little wolf.” Anton put the rifle to his shoulder and lined up his shot.
“Make sure you actually hit in the vicinity of the hay, man,” the wolf said again.
Christina turned, and before she realized what she was doing, swiped her nails against the heckler’s jaw. As blood pooled at the surface of the runnels she’d cut into his flesh, a low, foreboding growl filled her ears.
She wasn’t sure if it was Anton’s hand on her shoulder or the offensive wolf’s startled mien that clued her in, but she realized that god-awful noise was coming from her.
“It’s all right. You don’t need to fight my battles, little wolf.” Anton took her hand and shook it out, laughing all the while. “And you don’t even need my bite, do you?” He raised her hand in front of her eyes for her to see the retracting claws.
Her hand. Her—claws?
Adam sidled over, chuckling. “Can I pick ’em, or what?”
“You should have given her to Vic.”
“Vic’s not gonna be Alpha, so why would I have?”
“He’s your son. Of course he’s meant to be Alpha.”
Heart pounding and stomach in knots, Christina tugged at Anton’s sleeve. “Anton, I don’t understand what’s happening.”
The wolf she’d inadvertently mauled muttered, “That makes two of us,” as he pressed his shirtsleeve to his bleeding cheek.
She couldn’t help but to notice the interviewees had all taken a few large steps back. They practically held up the wall behind them. “Anton?”
Still chuckling, he massaged her palm and then twined his fingers through hers.
“You didn’t bite me.”
“No. I didn’t. Hadn’t pla
nned to, either.”
“And that’s partly why I’m here. I—I thought last night was the start of something that might have been enough, but it’s not enough. I want—I want what everyone else has.”
“I can give you the piece of paper and the ceremony if you want them, little wolf. That’s fine. I’m not gonna send you away, or try to make you so uncomfortable you’ll pack up and leave on your own. You wanna be my wife—gods bless you—that’s okay. But you don’t need to be a wolf to be mine. I didn’t—want you to be.”
“Why?”
“Easier for me to take care of you. At least, the way I saw it. You’re right that you probably wouldn’t make a very imposing wolf, so it puts my mind at ease that you couldn’t shift.”
“She still can’t shift,” Adam said. “Not fully. Doesn’t make her any less scary to these assholes.” He crooked his thumb toward the Pack members behind him.
“What’s happening to me?” she asked.
“Nothing you weren’t already capable of.” Adam shrugged. “Not every woman can do it. Used to be that everyone, irrespective of their sex, could shift after puberty, but then some evolutionary thing changed that. I think it was meant to keep the birthrate up. Pregnancy is just riskier for wolves that shift for the moon. Can’t exactly set the fetus aside while you go out howling. Good drugs suppress the shifting compulsion, but they’re hard to come by. Way back when, it was supposed to be that women didn’t get their bites until after they’d had a few kids. We’ve obviously gotten away from that. You’re a throwback, honey. I bet there’s more like you where you’re from.”
She held her now-normal hand in front of her face and stared at it. “I wouldn’t know.” Folks back home didn’t wait so long to pair off. She dropped her hand, determined. “Well, I don’t want the bite, then. Not yet.”
“If ever,” Anton muttered.
Christina rolled her eyes and turned to him. “But I want my certificate. I want it now.”
“All right.” Smirking, he put up his free hand and handed the rifle to Adam. “We’ll take care of it today.”
She jammed her hands onto her hips and cocked up her chin. “You messin’ with me?”
“No, I’m not messing with you. I think you have an appointment to keep first, though.” He canted his head to the walkway where Lora stood. She gave Christina a small wave.
“Oh.” She started toward Lora, but then stopped. Turned. “Are you gonna take your shots?”
“My shots?”
She cut her gaze toward the unblemished target. She didn’t want those wolves to think she’d gotten him off the hook. Maybe it’d be hard for him, but she believed he could do it. And if he was supposed to be an alpha someday, he needed to show them what he was still capable of.
He let out a long breath and took the rifle back from Adam.
Adam took a few steps back and plugged his ears as Anton raised the gun. She did the same, cringing all the while.
She worried for a moment that he wouldn’t do it, as he was taking so long to line up his shot, but then he pulled the trigger five times in a row without pausing.
Two shots dead center, two just outside, and one where a head might have been.
Not bad at all, even if he’d been uncertain.
He handed Adam the gun again and scooped up Christina’s hand as he approached her side. “Slow,” he whispered.
“But you got it right. That’s what matters.”
“Being slow out in the field can get me killed.”
They followed Lora up the path and back into the mansion.
“I’ll practice with you. Maybe you can teach me how to hit something smaller than a Cadillac.”
“I think you’re probably a better shot than that.”
“Nope. Can’t shoot so great if your hands are shaking.”
“The Queen is a pretty good shot,” Lora said. “As is her cousin, Nadia. They can probably teach you how to compensate for boobs, if you want the practice.”
Anton gave Christina a nudge just before they started up the stairs to the second floor. “I’d much rather you have a gun than fur, little wolf.”
The more Christina thought about it, the more she liked the idea, herself. She’d hoped that having her wolf ready and available would make her less useless, but perhaps she didn’t need that after all.
EPILOGUE
“Changed my mind.” Anton snapped magnets onto two corners of the black and white ultrasound photo and straightened it on the refrigerator. “Don’t want you carrying a gun.”
“You’re overreacting.” Christina grabbed her bagged lunch from the refrigerator, along with her thermos, and headed toward the door. “I’m no different today than I was yesterday, and you were fine with me carrying yesterday.” It wasn’t like she carried the darned thing in her waistband or close to her belly at all. She kept it where most civilized women did—in her purse, and with the safety on.
“I was never fine with it.” He raced around her and barred her exit at the door. “I simply tolerated it because I don’t like arguing with you.”
“It was either that or the bite.”
“And I’m not biting you.”
“For the moment.”
“Ever. Why fix what’s not broken? You’re not broken, little wolf.”
She sighed, reached up, and gave the hair over his blind eye a flick. At least he’d stopped hiding it from her, though he still tied on a patch before leaving the house on most days.
“Nothing’s going to happen to you here,” he said.
A loud boom from the general direction of Norseton rattled the windows.
She raised an eyebrow at him.
“What the fuck?” He plucked his cell phone from his flannel shirt’s pocket and dialed out. “What the hell was that?” He furrowed his forehead as whoever was on the other end of the connection talked.
She yanked his shirtsleeve. “What’s happening?”
He covered the mouthpiece. “I was right. Nothing’s going to happen to you, because I’m not letting you go anywhere.”
“What happened?”
“Guys at Norseton detonated a suspicious package out in the desert. Mailed in.”
She might have clutched her pearls if she had any.
“I’ll be over there in a few minutes to sniff it out,” he said into the phone before disconnecting. “You, stay home.”
“No. Threat’s been minimized, so I’m going to work. I’ve got a lot to do.” And she liked her job. She’d had first pick because she was the first of the mates to go and ask. She spent her workdays in the mansion’s library, scouring newspapers and the Internet for leads on the Afótama’s missing people. It was tedious, sure, but it engaged the same part of her brain that taking things apart did. She got lost in the work, and because it truly had to be done, she felt useful while doing it, even if she didn’t find something to report every single day. The Afótama had gone decades without viable leads on some of their missing, and in just a few months, she’d helped them find three.
Anton folded his arms over his chest and stared down at her in that not really terrifying way. Maybe it was terrifying to the others, but to her, he was just her big, cuddly wolf.
“I’m pregnant, not helpless.”
“If anything happens to you—”
She wanted to hear the rest of that if statement, but knew if he got it out, he’d set his mind on keeping her at home. He tended to jump to conclusions and stick to them when it came to her wellbeing. Typical overbearing wolf, but he was, at least, sweet about it. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. There’s no safer place to be than inside the mansion, right?”
His nod came slowly. He had to know it was true. Maybe it wasn’t evident from the outside, but that place was reinforced to withstand Armageddon.
“Walk me there? You were heading that way anyway.” She crooked her elbow for him.
After a moment, he took it and opened the door. “I swear, if being half-blind doesn’t get me killed, you
will.”
“You’re being dramatic.” She grabbed her purse off the hook before stepping outside. “Your uncle said it himself. We’re an alpha pair. I’m supposed to be a help to you, not a hindrance, so let me do my part. That’s all I’ve been trying to do, all along.”
“I just want more for you. You deserve more.”
“I have more than most wolves do.”
“And that’s a damned shame.” They moved up the path at a clip that wasn’t quite running, but close. With her short legs and decreased lung capacity, Christina could barely keep up, but somehow managed. In another few weeks, she’d probably need a golf cart to get to and from work. Baby Girl Denis wasn’t being so kind to her mother’s pelvic floor.
“It’s an opportunity,” she said, yanking his hand to slow him down.
He did, and grimaced. “Sorry. I could carry you, if you want.”
She grinned. “I can walk.” And they did, at a much more reasonable pace. “We’ve got an opportunity here to build something from scratch. Start something new. We don’t have to be like all the other packs—so transient and sending our little boys away when they become some stupid perceived threat to the leaders. Why do they have to be a threat? Isn’t it better to keep ’em and be strong?”
“Sure, it’s better. It’s just not the way things are usually done.”
“Well, let’s change things. I wouldn’t let you send me away. I’ll be damned if I let you do it to my boys.”
“Boys, huh?” He chuckled.
“Well, I’m sure there’ll be more than one at some point. Basic statistics.”
“We have a long time before we have to worry about it, but I’ll do my best to make it right for you.”
“For us.”
“That’s right. For us.”
The End
LONER: NORSETON WOLVES 2
Look for Darius’s story in June 2015. Preorder it now.
Half wolf Stephanie Benson has spent much of the last decade enduring criticism from her father’s pack about her deficiencies. If it weren’t for the fact her inner beast craves a wolf’s sensual attentions, she’d try to settle down with a nice human man. Answering a mate call from an unknown pack is her one chance at fleeing toxic influences, but it’s a gamble. She may end up with a man who finds her softer human physique and progressive opinions just as repulsive as the men back home.