by Holley Trent
So I’m not the only one who thinks that. She shrugged. “Slept okay, considering.”
“Nothing like sleeping in your own bed, huh?”
“That’s for sure. I had just started getting used to my bed back at home. I bought one of those adjustable-firmness beds a couple of months ago, and it took me three weeks to figure out I need a soft bed and a firm pillow. Kept waking up with a stiff neck.”
“Hope you didn’t have to sleep with Hank.”
Alarmed, Miles dropped the empty pot she’d been holding, and with burning cheeks, bent to pick it up.
Glenda laughed. “I really don’t want to know your bedroom business. I swear, I don’t, but I know how Hank sleeps. He keeps moving around until he gets into a comfortable spot, and then once he gets there, he won’t move in spite of who he’s displacing in the process. I didn’t mind the other kids piling into the family bed when they were little because they’re only little for so long, but I swear, I never did manage to roll off the bed without a few new bruises whenever Hank was in the mix.”
Maybe that explained the mystery bruise on Miles’s shin that hadn’t been there the day before.
Miles let out a long breath and reached for the bag of potting soil. “I…I told him I’d do what I could for him. He said it’d be easier to keep me safe if I had his scent, so, yes, I ended up in a Hank tangle overnight.”
“Well, the scent thing is true. It seems a very practical discussion to be having, though.”
Miles shrugged again and stole a glance at the truck. Hank and Mason were carrying out what looked like a mahogany headboard. Jamie sat on a stool in the shade, swinging her legs and supervising, apparently.
“I couldn’t think of a good enough reason to say no. I know I should probably be scandalized by the situation, but I think I got most of that out of the way last month. It’s hard to get up in arms about anything right now. I mean, what more could possibly happen?”
“You don’t feel like you’re living in the twilight zone? I certainly did. Took me years to really get integrated into it, but Floyd did try to keep me sheltered from the heaviest of the stuff for as long as he could. Then it was all unavoidable. You can’t have a healthy glaring if non-Cougar mates aren’t pitching in.”
“I don’t know. In a lot of ways, this feels a lot more normal than the way I grew up. I felt like a literary fiction trope—the unwanted orphan. Still do, sometimes.”
Glenda leaned against her table and crossed her arms over her chest. She nodded toward the truck in the distance. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about you girls accepting them. Of course a mother is going to worry. And I’m glad you’ve agreed to be his mate. I like being able to talk to my son when he’s got his human brain switched on and not that cat one. But I also have to admit I’m disappointed in your detached approach to this.”
This time, Miles set down the pot before she could drop it. “What? I would have thought—”
Glenda put up her hands. “You know, not every Cougar has a fated mate. I’d venture to guess that probably a quarter of the men in the glaring who’ve gone out on mate hunts on their own hoping for signs from the goddess came back empty-handed, and multiple times, too. My boys got lucky. I don’t know why their goddess would favor them so, but she did, and I’m thankful for it. This isn’t supposed to be a one-sided arrangement, though. That’s why they’re given a deadline. That’s why they’re given such an incredible incentive to treat their potential mates the way they deserve. By subverting that, you’re shortchanging yourself. You’re not giving him the impetus to fix the shit that’s wrong with him.”
Miles was surprised to hear such a thing coming out of her mouth. Hank was her son. She should have wanted this to be easy for him—or at least easier than Sean was getting it from Hannah at the moment.
“Why would you do that, Miles?”
“For one thing, I love Ellery like a sister, and I’m okay with uprooting myself to be near her. I don’t have anything holding me down in North Carolina, so being here isn’t the huge disruption you’d probably think it would be. Also, I felt bad for you. Working in a hospital, I’ve seen too many people lose children, and you can’t say having a big cat come by to visit is quite the same thing as having your son at your kitchen table. If I could fix that for you, I wanted to try.”
“Oh honey, let me get the Windex so I can polish your halo.” Glenda dragged her sleeve across her suddenly damp eyes. “So, you weren’t just being a pushover and letting him talk you into it, then.”
“No. He didn’t have to talk me into it at all, though I imagine if he’d tried, he wouldn’t have to try hard.”
“So, you do like him a little.”
Miles’s jaw flapped wordlessly a few beats, before she gave up on the protest. Why bother lying? “He’s a mystery to me…and maybe he’s not so bad to look at.”
“Ha. Wish I could take the credit. Red hair aside, the boys look like their father.”
Yeah, they do. Miles had seen all the pictures. “I know I’m too laid-back when I should be guarded. I thought about it this morning—about what I could do now to make him work for it. I think he believes I’m a pushover and won’t stand up when the time is right.”
“Or he doesn’t understand that sometimes fighting back looks like different things.”
Miles nodded.
“What’d you come up with?”
“Not much. I keep starting and restarting the list in my mind. Maybe itemizing line items isn’t the way to go, but I feel like if I’m trading my compliance, I should get something just as valuable in exchange. I just don’t know what that would be.”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t know. Respect? To be taken seriously, maybe? I know that’s something I have to earn. I’m used to having to earn respect. People look at me and don’t expect much, and then they have to count on me for some reason and I always come through.”
“Perhaps what you need from him isn’t respect, then, but the freedom to earn it.” Glenda gave her chin a thoughtful rub and narrowed her eyes at the men behind the truck. “Cougar men hate being ignored. If I were you, I’d make myself very busy.”
“I get the feeling you don’t mean with tomatoes.”
“Nope.” Glenda slipped off her gloves and tucked them into the back pocket of her work pants. “You’re the second’s girl. Pick up the phone and call any Cougar woman at random. I guarantee you she’ll have something she’d like you to do. And I guarantee you, doing the job you’ve been thrown into is going to drive that son of mine absolutely nuts. Mark my words.”
Miles couldn’t stop her laugh from bubbling out. Could she possibly fluster that statue of a Cougar? “I can’t wait.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Hank didn’t think anything was amiss when he saw Mom’s pickup kicking up dust on the way up the path. Sometimes she had to run errands midday that took her away from the ranch. Occasionally, she trusted Darnell and the other ranch hands to do what needed to be done without her constant supervision. But then he saw Mom climbing onto her four-wheeler alongside Jamie with the usual lunchtime cooler of drinks and a box of lunches for the hands out in the pastures. If she’s on the four-wheeler, who’s driving the truck?
He hit the switch on the band saw, took off his ear protection, and tossed his safety glasses onto the bench.
“What’s wrong?” Mason called over the din of the rotary sander he was using to smooth the length of a banister.
“Maybe nothing. Be right back.” The moment Hank stepped outside, he took off at a sprint toward the four-wheeler.
“Mom!” he shouted before she could make it onto the path.
“What?”
“Who’s driving your truck?”
“Miles.”
“How?” And he didn’t mean that she shouldn’t have even been able to reach the pedals, though she likely was sitting on the edge of the seat to do it.
“I gave her back her license.”
; The fuck? “Why?”
“Because you need a license to drive.”
Maybe he wasn’t hearing her right. He closed the distance between the two of them and pressed his hands to the hood. “I don’t think we’re understanding each other.”
Mom gave him the slow-blink treatment. “I understand you just fine.”
“Did you forget why her license and phone were locked up in the first place?” It had been to deter any runaway attempts. She might have said yes, but Hannah hadn’t yet. In fact, Hannah wouldn’t let Sean anywhere near her, which didn’t bode well for his ticking clock.
“No, I haven’t forgotten. She can’t do what she needs to do if she’s cooped up here. What’s the alternative? That she sits around giving Hannah a pep talk all day? Ellery tried it yesterday and it got her nowhere.”
“Miles isn’t supposed to be doing anything. And besides, she seemed busy enough with you this morning.”
“She doesn’t work for me, Hank. I wouldn’t have a woman with the skill set she has puttering around this ranch all day. You do realize she had an actual job and a life before she came here, right? All of the women did.”
Jamie leaned forward and gave him one of those well? looks rude little kids were so good at. He narrowed his eyes at her. She might have been prepubescent, but he was still a dominant glaring member. He was entitled to at least a tablespoon of respect.
She stuck out her tongue and laid her head against Mom’s right arm.
He sighed. “Where was she going?”
“Not sure. She called around and made a list. Just leave her alone.”
“No.”
“Why can’t you?”
“Be—”
“Because she needs supervision? Is that what you were going to say?”
“She does.”
“She’s nearly thirty, she takes care of needy newborns, and she helps women deliver children for a living. I really don’t think she needs your kind of chaperoning, but that’s just one lady’s opinion. Might actually be easier for her to make friends if you’re not around.”
“I think she has enough friends already, and if anything, she needs to be cheerleading the one in Sean’s basement right now. And I’ve never known you to be cruel, Mom.”
She patted his hand condescendingly. “Not cruel. Just honest. If you think she’s going to call in the National Guard to rescue her and her friends, you might want to think through that a little harder. Now, move so I can deliver these lunches. Ranch hands are going to start eying my cows in unsavory ways if I don’t get some food into them.”
Grunting, Hank got out of the way, and Mom took off without another word and with Jamie waving at him until they disappeared into a cloud of dust.
“Dammit.” He dug his phone out of his pocket and got Belle on the line. “I think Miles is heading to town in Mom’s truck. Can you keep an eye peeled for her?”
“Nah.” Belle disconnected.
He stared at the phone. “What the fuck?” Obviously Mom had gotten to her first. He had one other number to try, though he hated having to call it. Coven leader Millie was always trying to increase cooperation between the supernatural groups in the areas, and to be perfectly blunt, the witches in town tended to be a bit…weird. Even in a town half-filled with weirdoes, they took the cake. They went beyond eccentric to being touched. Now that Ellery was one of them, though, they really had no choice but to be cooperative.
He dialed.
Millie answered on the fourth ring. “What happened? Do I need to round up the girls and circle the wagons?”
“No. My mate’s heading to town in a Double B Ranch truck, and alone. I just want to make sure she doesn’t get herself into any trouble.”
“So, she left before you could tag along, is what you’re saying.”
“You know the way it works, Millie.”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll have the girls keep her on their radar screens. I know how much you Cougars hate being watched, but since she’s just plain old human, she won’t notice.”
Well, if Miles did notice, he’d probably be getting a hell of a… Hell of a what? She wasn’t going to yell at him. He couldn’t remember her having ever raised her voice in anger. Wasn’t like she was going to hit him or even try to run him over with her truck like one of Sean’s exes did to him once. She’d just pin a disappointed stare on him and make him feel like an asshole.
And he was an asshole. It was a heritable Foye trait, by all accounts. Like he would have to do for any other chronic condition, he had to stay on top of his treatment. And in his case, sometimes that meant not acting even when his inclination was to do otherwise.
“She probably won’t notice, Millie.”
“I’ll start a phone chain to the coven, then.”
“You know, you could just send a group text message.”
“A what?”
“Don’t worry about it, Millie.”
• • •
Hank kept his front door wide open, watching for signs of the white truck coming up the path as he worked on the sticking pocket door between the front room and dining room. Not a peep. Not a peep from Millie or Belle, and Miles had been gone for six hours, at least. She could have been halfway back to North Carolina if the flight schedules were working in her favor and she’d managed to get her hands on some cash. Mom might have given her back her license, but the rest of her wallet was still in the safe along with her phone. Maybe she could have that back. At least he’d be able to get in touch with her, and if she was going to call for help, she could do that from any device now that Mom had opened the can of worms.
“I’m surprised you didn’t go after her.” Sean—with a lip busted from its impact with the lamp Hannah had thrown at him an hour before—climbed down from the ladder he’d been perched on and wiped his hands clean on his pants. Yet again, he’d tried to coax Hannah out to talk, but she’d told him to go fuck himself. And she had obviously thrown a lamp at him.
Hank had never seen him look so tired. They’d gotten used to working routine night shifts to watch the desert for signs of demons, and sometimes that exhaustion carried over into the next day, but with his sagging shoulders and the dark hollows beneath his eyes, he looked more than tired. He looked ill, like he shouldn’t even have been upright.
“I wanted to, but Mason might have ripped me a new one. It took us until four o’clock to get caught up. When’s the last time you slept?”
Sean shrugged and rubbed his eyes. “Ah, who the hell knows? Hannah needs to be watched constantly when she’s out of the basement. If she doesn’t run, she’ll probably put a knife in my back.”
“But she’s right? She’s obviously your mate?”
Sean sighed. “Yeah. No mistaking it. My inner kitty cat perks up real nice when she’s around. La Bella Dama must have a hell of a sense of humor.”
“Yeah. I feel like we’re missing something from that legend. She really can’t be that much of a masochist.”
“Agatha says she is.”
Hank groaned and stepped onto the porch for a long look up the path. No Miles yet.
Agatha was Ellery’s many-times great-grandmother. She was ancient, and not just old. As far as he knew, she was the only goddess he’d ever met in the flesh, if they could call that stuff covering her “flesh.” She seemed to transform before his eyes from pale to barely-there when she was channeling the wind. A rogue from her pantheon, she interfered with humans more than most minor gods, and she was probably on some sort of kill list. She got into lots of fights with powerful things, but she always won. She was unflinching and immaculate. Rarely even had a hair out of place. She’d been working with Ellery and her assorted in-laws to help the Foyes find a way to seal off the hellmouth. It wasn’t just a goodness of her heart situation though. She was sort of to blame for it being open in the first place. She’d invited a fight with some rival gods, and apparently the cosmic disturbance ripped a hole between the realms.
Sean joined him on the porch and leane
d against the railing. “Wouldn’t hurt to have some help monitoring the hellmouth until we can seal it. We’re stretched a bit thin right now.”
“We’ve been stretched thin for a year. It’s just worse now.”
“Who do we have who could possibly help? Cougars can only chase demons, so they can pop right back out in a day or two. Ellery can banish them, but there’s only one of her and her brothers-in-law aren’t going to teleport over to help every time one pops up.”
“What about Millie’s coven? They’re in the loop and know what’s happening.”
Hank cringed and looked up the path again. No dust. No headlights. Where the hell is she? “I don’t know. Some of them might be trainable, but given the average age of coven members tends to hover around sixty, I’m not sure if those folks are spry enough to do the job.”
“What if they had some Cougars to run herd while the witches worked their magic?”
Hank rubbed his chin contemplatively. “Might be able to do that.” Cougars could keep spirits and noncorporeal entities contained, but couldn’t make them stay away. They’d need magic for that, or, well…angelic power. Of all the things they were, they certainly weren’t angels. “We can talk about it at the meeting this weekend.”
“Yeah, assuming Hannah doesn’t kill me first.”
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, or something.”
“Shut the fuck up, man. You wanted her.”
“Not for the same reasons you do. I always knew a leggy blonde would be your downfall.” Fuck. Hank had said it as a joke, but he did worry it would be true. There was always a chance Hannah would come around later—after the curse took effect—but Hank had never heard of that happening in the modern era. He didn’t even want to suggest it as a possibility. It would probably depress Sean more.
Sean snorted. “I guess I do have a type, don’t I?”
“Yep. The type prone to murderous mayhem, apparently.”
“Yeah, you’re not going to get that from Miles, that’s for sure. She’s like Bambi, if Bambi wore pink shoes and mascara.”