Shifter's Magic (The Wolvers Book 8)

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  Olivia thought he was joking and patted his cheek. "Poor little pup," she pouted and teased, "Is fifty feet too far for your little legs to trot?"

  Matt wasn't amused. "Fifty feet, my ass. It's almost three miles there and back again. Let me go get..."

  "What do you mean three miles? The car's right..." She pushed him aside to look out the door. "...there," she finished lamely. Car and trailer were gone.

  "Brad's got it down at the garage."

  "Wait a minute," Justice looked up from the schoolbook in front of him on the floor. "I thought my truck was in the garage. We were gonna work on it tomorrow."

  "It was, and now it ain't." His older brother shrugged.

  "Brad took my car?" Olivia asked as if she hadn't heard correctly.

  "Well I sure as hell didn't," Matt grumbled. "It's a sorry excuse for a car, by the way. Didn't think ole Terry the Weasel would want his sweet O-liv-i-a to be seen in a piece of crap like that. Didn't Mama say you had a..."

  "He had no right to take my car!"

  Matt raised his hands. "Don't yell at me, I didn't take it. It's no big deal. It's not like he's stripping it for parts or somethin', although the parts are probably worth more than the car. You got a problem with it, take it up with Brad."

  "That's exactly what I'm going to do. Go get your keys," Olivia ordered. "You can drive me."

  "You stay right there, young man," Ellie called from the kitchen, no longer the doting mother of a lost cub returned. "You've been working hard all day and your supper is almost ready. If Livvy is so hell bent on getting that car, she can just walk right down there and get it herself. The fresh air will do her good."

  "It's freezing out there."

  "Good God, girl, you're a wolver. Little thing like cold won't do you any harm. You just keep your ears and fingers covered and you'll be fine."

  Olivia looked to her father for rescue. He shrugged. "Better listen to your Mama." The wink that followed told her he wasn't about to cross swords with Ellie over it. "There's a time to push," he advised, "And this ain't it."

  "But it's dark out," Olivia argued.

  "Somethin' wrong with your eyes?" her mother snapped.

  If she hadn't been so angry, Olivia might have laughed. With the bright lights of the city shining day and night, she rarely thought of the night vision that came from her wolf. Welcome back to Gilead where there were no excuses.

  She grabbed her coat from its place on the row of hooks on the wall of the tiny entry. On the floor beneath the hooks was a basket filled with hats and gloves that had been collected over the years. She jammed the first hat she found onto her head and rifled through the pile until she found two gloves that made a matching pair. "Fine. I'll be back."

  ~*~

  Ellie wiped her hands on a kitchen towel as she watched the door slam shut. "I hope not," she said with a satisfied nod.

  "Ellie." Tom called her name like a warning. "This is none of our business."

  "It is our business if we want our girl to stay in Gilead where she belongs."

  "You don't know that she does belong here. She says she's happy with her life."

  "If she's so happy then why's she got everything she owns stashed in that trailer? Why's she driving that car? Why's her face so drawn? Why hasn't she picked up that phone since she got here? Like as not, there's no one on the other end waitin' to hear she's home safe, that's why. She's meant to be here, Tom, and she's meant to be with Brad Seaward."

  Her mate shook his head. "How do we know he's the right one?"

  "Oh for heaven sakes, we've known it since she was fifteen years old."

  "I didn't. I don't know that Brad knows it either," Matt tossed out. "He didn't seem too eager to see her."

  "You mind your own damn business, Matthew Dawson," his mother ordered with a point of her finger.

  Matt looked to his father for support. "How come it's 'our' business until we have an opinion?"

  "Because you're a guy," Lucy answered before her father could. "And guys don't know anything about being in love."

  "Like you do?"

  "Sure she does." Tommy's grin boded nothing but mischief. "She's in love with Rudy Carmichael, haven't you heard? She sits near him at lunch and drools so bad they have to clean up the table with a mop."

  "That's not true!"

  Ellie put her foot down on the neck of the impending argument. "None of you know anything about it, and that's the way it's going to stay until your sister is settled." Her threatening finger moved from face to face. "And I'm warning you. If I hear you even hint to Livvy, or anyone else," the finger stopped at Matt, "about what's said in this living room, I will hang you up by your thumbs on my very own back porch, and skin you alive. Now come get your supper, Matthew, before it goes cold."

  "You'd better listen to your Mama," Tom Dawson advised with a conspiratorial wink for his offspring. "That skinnin' business could get mighty messy."

  "I mean it, Tom."

  "We know you do, honey." He shook his finger at his grinning cubs. "Your mama might be doing the skinning', but I'll be the one stretching the hides, so mind your manners and your tongues."

  Chapter 4

  Olivia would have gladly done a little hide skinning too, if she'd remembered to bring a knife. Less than a half mile into her walk, she wished she remembered to change her shoes as well. Her feet were freezing. Her expensive navy pumps would be irretrievably scuffed before she got where she was going. The heels, though not particularly high, were meant for city sidewalks, not dirt and gravel roads. Not that it would have done her any good to remember her shoes. Her flat soled sheepskin boots were behind the driver's seat in the car Brad freaking Seaward stole from in front of her house.

  "Okay, so maybe steal is too strong a word," she said aloud. Her heel caught, throwing her off balance, and she changed her mind. It was exactly the right word. "Did he ask? No. Borrowing without permission is theft."

  And what the hell did he want her car for? Hmm? He was probably sniffing at the contents of the brightly colored plastic case in which she'd packed most of her lingerie.

  "Good for him." she fumed. "Let him see what he's been missing."

  Her wolf chuffed with amusement.

  "Oh shut up," Olivia snapped.

  She wasn't even sure where she was going. She should have remembered to ask that, too. She was blindly following the narrow road where he'd turned at the fork. Like all the roads and lanes in Gilead, it wasn't paved and had no name. Mail was picked up at the Post Office and a house would burn to the ground before the nearest fire department got word. So what was the point? Everyone knew where everyone lived. Everyone except her. As far as she knew, this road ended at the Tilson's. Was that where Brad kept his truck? Did old man Tilson even have a garage? And what if Brad had already gone home? Where was home?

  Even after he'd become a member of the Gilead pack, Brad had continued to live with his parents up in the hills across the highway. His parents were rogue, as were all the other wolvers who lived up there. All were packless and, she suspected, most were outcast criminals. Did he still live with them or did he finally find a place in Gilead? She didn't know, and her mother never included gossip about Brad in her phone calls.

  If he'd gone up to his parent's place, then she'd walked all this way for nothing because she wasn't about to walk five more miles to get there. She'd only seen the place once and that was enough. She wasn't going there after dark.

  The Tilson place came and went with no sign of a garage or tow truck. The road, however, went on and narrowed to a lane not wide enough for two cars to pass. The lane was more gravel than dirt, which meant it was fairly new. Up and up it went, and then down and down, curving with the lay of the land as all the roads in Gilead did. She was heading toward the highway. Around another curve, her way was blocked by a high chain link gate. It was closed, but there was no lock. There was no need. The fencing to the right and left was flimsy farm wire, easily bent and crossed.

  Curious now,
she slipped through the gate and continued through empty land heavily dotted with trees. The trees gave way to open ground and then several neat rows of badly damaged cars. It looked like Brad Seaward was running a junk yard.

  There were two buildings on the property, but only the smaller one was lit. The big truck was parked outside, so that was where she headed. Rising up on tiptoe, Olivia peeked in the high window to be sure he was alone. Her wolf's hackles rose.

  Brad was nowhere to be seen, but a woman stood toward the jacked up frontend of Olivia's car. Her hand rested on a provocatively cocked hip. Her legs were bare and her skirt was way too short for the temperatures outside, though short enough to heat up any man's indoors by twenty degrees. The spike-heeled, open-toed slingbacks probably shot the temp up another ten. She canted her body the other way, shifting her weight to the other hip, then flung her dark hair behind her shoulder, missed the flick, and had to do it again. Someone was looking for a hot time in the old garage tonight.

  Olivia's wolf snarled.

  The place was small with only one other door on which someone had drawn a smiley faced toilet in black marker. Other than that, she could see no comfortable place where said hot time could occur except the filthy and dented hood of her car or the back seat which had been conveniently emptied.

  "Oh no," she snarled along with her wolf. "There will be no hot times in my back seat."

  She almost changed her mind when she remembered the giant wad of chewing gum that was stuck to it. That might make it interesting since Miss Come-Hither was wearing one of those chubby, rabbit fur coats. But no, there were enough suspicious stains in that car that Olivia couldn't identify. She'd rather not have another that she could.

  And so what if she ruined his evening? He'd ruined hers. She was planning a nice quiet one at home with her folks. Boldly, she opened the door. The damn fool didn't even lock it for privacy.

  "Hello-o," she called cheerfully.

  "Shit." Brad's voice sounded from the other side of the car.

  "Really?" the woman said, though it wasn't clear if her impatience was caused by the word or the interruption.

  "Really," Olivia answered and then recognized the voice if not the wolver. She peered at the woman, trying to put sound and sight together. "Hannah? Hannah...ah?" Didn't her mother tell her something about Hannah mating?

  "Still Tilson." Well that answered that. "I was supposed to be mated to Ricky Simmons until he met that slutty poufy poodle from Virginny."

  Olivia assumed the poodle was a derogatory reference to another wolver, but then again, Ricky Simmons had always seemed a little off kilter to her. She decided it was best not to ask.

  "Virginia," she corrected instead.

  "Oh." Hannah frowned. "Was that her name?"

  "Never mind." Any further explanation would only confuse things. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to Brad. Business. You know."

  He rose up from the far side of the car, wiping his hands on a rag too filthy to do much good. "Go on home, Hannah."

  "But you said I could stop by and you'd show me around."

  "I told you, not tonight. We're closed."

  She pouted and whined, "Then when?"

  "I'll let you know." He took her arm and led her to the door.

  Hannah stopped, obviously unable to think and walk at the same time. She twirled a lock of her hair around her finger. "You said you were closed. Then how come Livvy's here to talk business? You're closed." She looked from one to the other and wagged her finger between them. "Are you two...?"

  "No!" they protested with one voice.

  "Too bad," Hannah sighed, and then she smiled resignedly and shrugged. "I thought if you knew any eligible wolvers, Livvy, we could double some time." She wiggled her fingers. "Toodles." And off she went, tottering on her too high heels back up to her granddad's place where she lived with ten or twelve other Tilsons.

  "Hannah Tilson? Really?" Olivia asked when the woman was far enough away. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Brad Seaward, taking advantage of Hannah like that."

  "I wasn't taking advantage. Hannah's a big girl, Livvy, and you've no right to go there."

  She probably didn't, but she was going there anyway. She pointed to the exit. "That poor girl didn't learn to write her name until the third grade. It's hard to hold a pencil when your finger is tangled in your hair." She demonstrated Hannah's trademark hair twirling.

  Brad barked a laugh and then winked. "Hannah has other gifts to offer."

  "I've no doubt," she sniffed, well aware that Hannah's gifts in that department far outweighed her own.

  "And you've got no call to be throwin' stones," he went on. "What was it that attracted you to Terry-the-weasel? Other than his fat wallet, I mean."

  "Terrence. His name is Terrence," she huffed, "and at least he knew that Virginia is a state and not a poufy poodle."

  "Knew?"

  "What?"

  "You said he knew, like in the past."

  She did? Damn. "So what? I bet he knows where it is in the present, too. I'll bet he's been there. In fact, I know he's been there. Harkness Industries has a factory in Richmond." She'd seen the invoices. "And he wouldn't look twice at the likes of Hannah Tilson."

  "And I would?" Brad shook his head in disbelief. His hair was badly in need of a trim, she noted.

  "How would I know? I mean, she's certainly, um, filled out." And though she knew she shouldn't, Olivia had to ask. "When did that happen?" Hannah certainly hadn't looked like that in high school.

  "I think it was always there," he said with a lift of his shoulders, "but she covered it up with those long skirts and baggy sweaters. After Ricky took off, she kind of went wild. That's when the tits and ass showed up. She started hanging out at the Tooth and Fang in search of new friends."

  "I'll bet she found them, too."

  Owned by a member of the pack, the Tooth and Fang was a local bar that catered to a mostly wolver clientele; some from Gilead, others from smaller packs within an hour's drive, and the rogue band that lived across the road. It was the only place within twenty miles to hang out, play pool, have a beer, and relax. The food was good, but the company was mixed and according to her mother, the mix was getting worse. Of course, Mama had been saying that for years.

  Guilt prickled at the back of Olivia's mind. She had no right or cause to pick on Hannah. The girl couldn't help what she was.

  She knew how Hannah felt about being thrown over for a poufy poodle, too. Terrence's came with a full wolver pedigree. Olivia had been tempted to go a little wild herself, but she didn't have Hannah's nerve, or lack of good sense. Hannah also didn't have Ellie for a mother. The poor girl only had that ragtag batch of Tilsons.

  "Mama would still pin my ears back if I walked out of the house dressed like that. I swear, she checked and rechecked every stitch of clothing I ever put on," she said, smiling now at what had caused so many arguments in the past.

  "She didn't check what you took off, though, did she."

  Olivia felt the heat rise to her face. Her lower regions responded as well. This was not good.

  He grinned at her, that cheeky grin that always made her insides flutter. "Tit for tat, or is that panties for...?"

  She huffed loudly and put her hands on her hips. "Never mind what it is. What are you doing with my car?"

  "Cleaned some of the gunk out of the engine and changed out your tires."

  "You should have asked." She'd have no choice but to pay him now and her store of cash was light enough before. She sighed. "Write up the bill and I'll pay you tomorrow. And don't do anything else."

  The grin faded. "A thank you would have been payment enough, but that's the new you, isn't it, Livvy, always thinking of dollars and not sense. This is a business. Dumb fuck that I am, I know how to run it. If I wanted to be paid, I'd have given you a written estimate. Since I didn't, you can keep your damn money. I didn't do it for you anyway. I did it for your parents, for your family. They've been good to me." Emphasis on th
ey, implying that she had not.

  "Brad," she said on another sigh, "This whole thing between us..."

  He held up his hand and shook his head. "Is over. There's nothing between us. I don't want to hear it, Liv. I did once, but not anymore. I changed out those tires because, like I said, they were an accident waiting to happen. You could have been killed. Do you know what that would do to Matt and the others? What it would do to your parents?"

  Oh, God, she should have put it together; the anger, the warning. She bowed her head. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."

  The muscles in his face relaxed into a noncommittal mask, but there was a slight tightness around his eyes. It was so subtle that few would notice. Olivia did, though. She always had. It was what she called his shut-down face. The one he used to hide emotions he didn't want others to see. The last time she saw it was after she told him it was over and before he walked away.

  He tried to wave her sympathy off. "No reason why you should."

  "There's every reason why I should," she said gently as she took a step forward and into his space. Hesitantly, she reached out to touch him. When he didn't pull away, she lifted her hand to brush the hair from his forehead. "Some things have changed between us, Brad, but that's not one of them."

  She moved into him and laid her cheek against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his middle and she slid her hands up his back until she held his shoulders. Her fingers gripped the tightened muscles and held him as if her small body could give his big one strength. It was an old position for them and she meant nothing more by it than what it was; an offer of comfort to an old friend. It felt good. It felt right.

  Accepting the offer, Brad's hands went to her back and his body relaxed a little. "I still think about him, Liv, all the fucking time. Some simple or stupid thing happens and it triggers a memory of when we were pups. I start to share it, and then remember I can't. No one wants to hear about my memories of Cho."

  "I know," she said softly.

  His older brother, Cho, was a monster. He ran drugs and protection rackets, and bullied both wolvers and humans for fun. Hurting people made him feel powerful.