Shifter's Magic (The Wolvers Book 8)

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  The Mate was at the door before he spoke, almost against his will. "What if I don't deserve those things?"

  Jazz paused and frowned, thinking. Seconds passed before her face brightened and she grinned. "Then you should be twice as grateful when you get them."

  The damn woman had an answer for everything.

  "Talk to her, Brad. Ask her why she left you, and tell her why you let her." With that, the Mate left.

  He was already curled in the blankets with his head pillowed by a rolled up jacket, when he realized he'd let the Mate, of all the friggin' females in Gilead, walk home alone.

  Exhaustion forced Brad to sleep, but just as he found no peace in wakefulness, he found none in his dreams. Breathless and heart pounding, he ran through an endless maze of dark tunnels following an elusive light. His cries of "Why? Why? Why?" echoed back to him in Livvy Dawson's voice.

  "Why? Why? Why?"

  ~*~

  Jazz tiptoed into the room, stripped off her clothes, and slid Griz's old tee shirt from beneath her pillow. It was her favorite nightwear. Slipping under the covers, she inched her way backwards until her body hit the solid mass that was her mate. She snuggled her rear end into him.

  "Damn, woman, your ass is like an iceberg."

  "My ass is not that cold."

  "Tell that to my dick when it freezes solid and falls off." His hand slid over her hip, and she sighed with the reassurance that hand offered. "Well?"

  "Well what?"

  "Well, my mate runs off to meet a young buck at eleven and doesn't come back until three."

  "Jealous?"

  "No, wondering if he's still alive."

  "You're such a romantic." Jazz moved his hand from her hip to her stomach and from her stomach to her breast. Hand over his, she molded their fingers to its shape. She took a breath in preparation to say what she needed to say. The exhale came out shakier than expected.

  "Hellcat?" Griz's voice echoed his concern.

  "He was so tired and so vulnerable," she whispered, no longer pretending playfulness. "He didn't let me in, Griz. I broke in. Like a thief. I never did that before and I'm not sure how I feel about it."

  "How'd he feel about it?"

  "He didn't like it, but he didn't fight as hard as he could have."

  Griz kissed her neck and shoulder. "Then maybe you didn't break in. Maybe he left the door unlocked. Are you going to tell me what you learned?"

  "Yeah. I learned that I'm not as clever as I thought I was. I was looking at my school and not my people. Livvy Dawson was never the problem. She's made mistakes, but in her heart, she's always known where she belongs. I should have helped her see that sooner, but she would have come around to it in the end with or without my help.

  "It was Brad all along. All I saw was the surface, what I thought was heartbreak. I didn't bother to look beyond that. I took it for granted that sooner or later he'd go after her, or get over it when he couldn't do either. He's afraid, Griz."

  "Of what?"

  "I don't know, but it's almost paralyzing, not on the outside, but on the inside where it really counts." Jazz repeated the end of her conversation with Brad. "He reminds me of you, Griz."

  Chapter 19

  When her mother told her they were going to a potluck supper at the old church before the Winter Moon run, Livvy looked at her as if she'd lost her marbles.

  "You've got to be kidding. That place is only good as a home for snakes and mice. You wouldn't let us play in it when we were pups."

  The little church had always stood at the far end of Gilead, and as far back as Livvy remembered, the cemetery behind it had been its best feature.

  She'd heard the stories of the fine words that were preached from the pulpit and the dances and celebrations that were held in the hall behind the church proper when the weather was too rough to celebrate outdoors. When the weather cooperated, the outdoor celebrations were held there, too, where tall oak and beech trees offered shade from the summer sun. According to Edna and Edith, the two oldest members of the pack, Homer Murphy used to keep the grass shorn by grazing his sheep up there.

  The church was once the social center of Gilead where wolver and human culture combined. Traditional matings were held there often preceded by a blessing in the church. Baptisms and Namings were held in the church while the grounds were used to welcome cubs who'd reached wolver adulthood into the pack. They even had a preacher way back when and those that died had proper Bible words spoken over them to send them on their way to run in heaven. If you wanted to run as a wolf on full moon nights, the church was the place where everyone met to shift and go over the moon.

  All that was a memory by the time Livvy was born. Wolver preachers were hard to find and Gilead had little to recommend it. Time took its toll and the church paid the price. Paint peeled. Hinges rusted and windows broke. The grass grew waist high.

  Ellie laughed. "A year ago, maybe, but things are changing. Not near as fast as the Mate would like, but they're changing. That old church was like a thorn in Miz Jazz's side. Pestered the Alpha so much he finally took it to the Council, and the Council agreed. They put your Aunt Donna in charge and she took the bull by the horns."

  "She is the bull with the horns. How many wolvers did she gore in the process?"

  "She's not that bad," Ellie defended her sister, though not without a chuckle. "She might have taken a chunk out of a few tails, but nobody died. Everybody in Gilead contributed in cash or labor, you can bet your bottom dollar on that. They're calling it Mary's Hall now in honor of the old Mate."

  The steeple, which had never been more that a large cupola, no longer held a wooden cross. Other than that, the building looked like it probably did fifty years ago. The clapboard had been repaired and painted a creamy white, though it still showed signs in places of needing another coat. Someone had replaced the broken glass, and the gothic revival style windows sparkled with the light from within. The big front door was new, but the hardware looked original.

  Livvy stopped in the middle of the footbridge that crossed the creek in front of the old church. With the snow all around, the picture it presented was like a Christmas card.

  "It's beautiful, Mama, a magical place to hold mating celebrations and Namings," she murmured wistfully. It was another tradition Terrence thought was boringly quaint and one of Livvy's favorites.

  "We've had a lot of those these last few years," her mother said of the ceremony that introduced newborn pups to the pack. That's why the rooms in the back are now schoolrooms."

  "You have a school?"

  "Not yet. The Alpha and Mate are getting all our ducks in order. But we have plans. I told you, honey, we have plans. Your chair is waiting in one of those classrooms. Your Aunt Donna thought it would be a nice touch. A welcome home."

  Just a few days ago, she would have been elated by the news. Brad, a home in Gilead, a place in her pack, and a teaching job. It would have been like a dream come true. Now, she wasn't sure.

  "Honey," her mother said gently. "Everything will work out for the best. You'll see."

  "Not now, Mama." Livvy wasn't about to cry in front of the whole pack. She'd already done enough to keep them talking. She threw back her shoulders, held her chin high, and opened the door.

  Donna, like a wolf ready to pounce on an unsuspecting rabbit, was waiting for them just inside the door.

  "Well?" she asked without saying hello, but before either of them could answer, she added, "May's well take your coat off. The place is as warm as a loose woman's bed. The Mate found us an outdoor wood burnin' furnace. We got plenty wood, now alls we need is the money to pay for the furnace."

  Alls we need is. Livvy had heard the phrase all her life. Sometimes the need was simple, but most often the words were followed by a little more luck, or a little more money, both of which were always in short supply. Somehow, though, they always seemed to find whatever it was they needed.

  "And we'll get it, too," chirped a high and cheerful voice as the door behind
them opened and two little balls of fur blew through.

  Edith and Edna, the elderly identical twins, were dressed alike in ancient fur coats. The smell of mothballs surrounded them, though by the bare spots that dotted the fur, the deterrent had failed to do its job. Hand knitted wool hats, one pink, one green, were pulled down over their ears and paired with matching scarves wrapped loosely around their necks.

  Brad stood behind them, bare headed and hair ruffled by the wind. The tips of his ears were pink with cold. Her wolf whined at the loss when Livvy suppressed the urge to finger comb the hair back into place and warm the ears with her palms. That was something she would have done in the past. He wouldn't appreciate the gesture – if he even remembered it.

  He looked a little guilty. "I told them I'd give them a ride, but they insisted on walking."

  "We've been walking to this church since we were pups," Edna told them. "And these coats we found in the attic were like a sign from heaven that we should do it again. They're muskrat, you know. All the rage back in the day." She looked adoringly up at Brad. "It was such a treat for us. We haven't had a handsome young man to walk between us since Dear Ernest passed away."

  Dear Ernest, the mystery mate, was mated to one of the sisters, but the way the two spoke of him, no one knew which one and the twins skillfully avoided any attempt to find out. Like the church, Dear Ernest was long gone by the time Livvy was born.

  "We stopped at his marker to pay our respects," Edith added.

  "For twenty minutes," Brad muttered under his breath.

  There was nothing wrong with Edna's ears. "We had a lot to tell him, Bradley Dearest."

  "Since it was all his doing, we thought he ought to know," added Edith. She turned her attention to Olivia. "Livvy, dear, do you know how to work a computer?"

  Since you never knew where the twins' questions might lead, or what they would make of the answer, Livvy kept it short. "Yes ma'am."

  "You see, Sister, I told you. Livvy has always been a clever girl."

  "It never hurts to ask," Edith told her, and to Livvy, "Do you have one?"

  "I do," she said, and it dawned on her that she hadn't opened the little laptop once since she'd been home.

  The sisters' little bow mouths turned up into smiles and their cheeks rounded into rosy apples. The bright blue eyes sparkled with delight. Edna's blue-white curls bobbed as she nodded to her twin.

  "That'll save us the expense."

  Donna, who had little patience for mystery, finally intervened. "Whoa, back up a minute. What are you talking about? Why do you need a computer?"

  "For the attic, of course."

  Poor Donna looked ready to explode.

  Livvy had to turn away to hide her laughter at the look on her aunt's face. In turning, her eyes met Brad's as he was turning, too. The look on his face was a reflection of her own. The moment of shared mirth was fleeting as each recognized the mutual connection. All signs of humor were gone as each turned back to the confusing conversation.

  "They want to sell off some of Dear Ernest's things," Brad said flatly. "To pay for the furnace."

  "To help the school," Edna corrected. "Dear Ernest was a great believer in learning and staying up to date. He read the paper every single day. He'd read it aloud if he thought it was something we should hear, and on Sunday, he always found a few chapters from the Good Book that he thought would be of benefit to us both."

  At the mention of the school, Livvy turned away again, but not in humor. She closed her eyes, swallowed hard, and when she opened them again, there was Brad gazing down at her with eyes at half-mast and a knowing smile. She found it disconcerting that she knew the line of thinking that had made him smile that way. What did the Bible have to say about living in sin?

  That look made her think about the sinful things they'd done the other night. Damn his eyes. They made her hope.

  The conversation had moved on.

  "It's important to stay informed, he'd say, and then he'd share his opinions with us." A look passed between the two elderly sisters. If eyes could smile, then that is what theirs did.

  "Dear Ernest had very strong opinions," Edna said and followed it with a girlish giggle.

  "That he did," her sister agreed with a giggle of her own.

  "So will you do it, Livvy, dear?" Edna asked.

  Livvy looked to her mother and aunt. They shrugged, as confused as she. "What is it, exactly, that you want me to do?"

  "Why, sell our things on the internet. It's the modern thing to do, isn't it?

  "And it's so important to stay up to date."

  The Mate walked up to their small group. "By the looks on your faces, I'm guessing you two have made your decision."

  Two heads bobbed, but only Edith spoke. "We have. We talked it through and you were right, dear. It would be a wonderful way for Dear Ernest to be remembered. There's just one little thing," she said, positioning her chubby little fingers to demonstrate the size. "We'd like a plaque with Dear Ernest's name on it."

  "No," the Mate said and the two furry butterballs sagged. "If there's going to be a plaque, it's going to have all three of your names on it."

  "Oh, dear me, no. We couldn't do that. It wouldn't be right."

  "We only want to honor Dear Ernest's memory."

  "And we're not dead yet," Edna added as if that was a qualification for a plaque on the wall.

  The Mate ignored their protests. "We'll work on the wording together," she said with a wink.

  The two old ladies exchanged a message with their eyes as they often did. Together, their little bow mouths turned upward at the corners. They nodded to each other in unspoken agreement.

  Edith spoke for them both. "That would be wonderful, dear."

  The twins' secret would be safe, and again, Livvy and Brad looked away and at each other, only this time, Brad licked his lips and Livvy's wolf went wild. The memory of what that tongue could do sent a wave of heat through her body.

  He didn't want her, not really. Hadn't he said so? Well, not exactly and it wouldn't be the first time a friendly encounter after a run turned into something more. Don't get your hopes up was what Brad said, but the glimmer of wolf she saw in his eyes sent Livvy's hope soaring.

  "It's settled then," Edna said with another bob of her head. "What time should we expect you tomorrow, dear?"

  Livvy was startled by the question. "You're ready to sell?"

  "Oh, heavens no. We haven't even begun to sort. We're up by six, so you're welcome to come for breakfast."

  "And don't you worry, dear. No one is expecting blueberry muffins or sour cream coffee cake," Edna added.

  Donna's snort was covered by a choking cough. Her mother's little mewl was quickly converted to a sympathetic pounding on her sister's back, though Livvy noted Ellie's comforting gesture included a pinch to Donna's arm.

  "Good to know," Livvy said because she couldn't think of anything else.

  "Yeah," Brad agreed flatly. "Good to know."

  "Why don't we leave it for a few days," the Mate intervened. After rolling her tongue over the inside of her cheek, she added. "Livvy's still young, don't forget. She'll probably want to run with the pack tonight and tomorrow, and maybe the night after that."

  Edith clapped her hands, palms flat together. "Oh, goodie, then maybe we will have..."

  "I'm not running tonight," Livvy interrupted. "Not tomorrow or the next night, either. How does eight o'clock sound?"

  The twins' shoulders slumped. "Oh," they said together, not bothering to hide their disappointment.

  "It looks like everyone is here, so we'd better get settled," Jazz hastily chimed in. "The Alpha looks like he's getting antsy up there. Harvey and Tom have seats for you four ladies." She dismissed Brad and Livvy with a wave of her hand. "You two can stand in the back with the others." She didn't sound happy.

  The rotted pews were gone, and in their place an odd assortment of wooden and folding chairs had been set up. Donna's work no doubt. Anyone with a spare in the
ir garage or attic had probably been forced to donate it to the cause. There was seating for over half the pack if you counted the pups sitting on their parents' laps. There were more pups than Olivia ever remembered there being in Gilead. About a dozen of the younger ones looked school aged. The Alpha and Mate's oldest was one of them.

  Everyone else was standing along the aisles or in the back. The place had filled while they chatted with the twins and there was little room to maneuver. Livvy resigned herself to listening rather than seeing the Alpha's court since her view was blocked by broad wolver backs.

  A hand at her back pushed her gently forward while another cleared the way.

  "Excuse us. Comin' through. Oh, come on, she came to see the Alpha, not your ass, give the girl a little room." Brad cajoled and pushed until he found a spot where she could see.

  This was the Brad she knew; kind, with an easy going forcefulness, that had none of the divine-right-of-kings attitude that Terrence always had. His hand at the small of her back felt warm and comforting. It was the nicest thing he'd done since she entered Miz Mary's Hall, but when she looked up to offer her thanks, he was staring straight ahead instead of looking down. She'd expected a soft smile and a wink, but he acted as if she wasn't there. Instead, he looked angry.

  Livvy's rising hope plummeted back to earth with a resounding thud. She'd forgotten for a moment that Brad's soft smiles and winks were no longer hers to share. She'd misread the lustful look in his eyes as something more. And it hurt, so badly even her wolf moaned with the loss. She deserved the pain, but that knowledge didn't lessen it. To cover it, she laughed, quietly and falsely.