by Holley Trent
Mrs. Perez had said that for far too long, the power structure had been what amounted to a one-man show. Floyd Foye had a couple of trusted advisors, but not in the same capacity as what Hank was for Mason. Mason hadn’t wanted his job, but he hadn’t wanted his brothers to be burdened by it, either. None of them wanted the alpha job to go to an outsider who didn’t have the glaring’s best interest at heart. No one wanted that, except the Sheehans. Based on what Mrs. Perez had told Miles, the Sheehans had been committing some pretty dirty deeds for going on thirty years, but no one could prove anything. That’s why the cats all held their tongues. But there was some boldness in the newest generation of Sheehans, and that would be their undoing. Miles just needed to find some evidence.
She was pondering how to do that when Hank squatted beside the reception desk at Woodworks and waved a hand in front of her face. The terror etched into those few lines of the statue’s forehead made her giggle, especially since she thought she knew the cause. He’d peppered her with so many questions about her disorder during the drive back to the ranch, she honestly thought he believed she was going to drop dead at any moment. It was better than silence, though, that was for sure.
“You were too still,” he said. “I was worried you were having a stroke or something.” He laid his hands on her knees and gave them both a little squeeze that sent resulting tingles up her thighs and to her core.
Her breath came out in an involuntary gust, and her fingers clenched the armrests of the chair. That caressing warmth overtook her every time he touched her and startled her into a rigid stupor that all at once made her want to roll around with him naked on the ground. That couldn’t be normal.
She loosened her fingers and steadied her breathing. “Uh, I’m fine most of the time. It’s hardly worth concerning yourself about.”
“Sure.” He gave a sardonic nod. “That’s why your hormones are spiking all over the place right now, huh? Because you’re just fine?”
Biting her lip, she nodded. Having him think she was infirm was better than him knowing the exact truth at the moment.
“Anything else that shouldn’t concern me, but you feel a sudden compulsion to tell me about, anyway?”
She gave her head a slow shake. “Nope. I don’t think so.”
“Really? You don’t want to unburden yourself about what the ladies said at Val’s? I wouldn’t want you to feel overwhelmed, is all.”
“Sure, you wouldn’t,” Sean called out from somewhere beyond the half wall. The usually jocular brother had been notably quiet since Miles and Hank had returned from town. Miles might not have known him very well, but she could guess his pensiveness had a lot to do with what was, or wasn’t, happening with Hannah. Another thing for Miles to check up on.
Hank stood, grabbed a few sheets of paper out of the recycling bin, wadded them up, and hurled them into the shop.
“Ow,” Sean said lazily.
“We’re dying to know,” Mason called out. “The Cougar women avoid Mom because she’s retired from the glaring shit and they respect that, so if they’re actually wagging their tongues to someone they know is intimately connected to us, that’s a good thing. They’ve got to expect some of that information to bleed back to the leadership.”
At your discretion, came the little voice in Miles’s head. She gripped the padded chair arms and sat up straighter, scared shitless, but equally afraid to give away the reason for her sudden unease. It wasn’t the first time that voice had pealed through her mind. She’d heard it earlier in the beauty shop while Val lathered shampoo into Miles’s hair—right around the time when the ringing in her ears had started. She’d written it off as just part of the noise pollution because of the dryers going and the water spraying in the sink.
Miles was used to talking to herself. Hell, she could carry on an internal debate about which expensive coffee drink to order using different voices and all kinds of mental sound effects for five minutes. She’d grown up used to keeping her own counsel. She’d know one of her many voices if she heard one, though, and this new voice certainly wasn’t one of her own construction. It was clear as day like a radio disc jockey and speaking words she wouldn’t have thought up herself. And for some reason, she suspected the fact that there was a new occupant in her head wasn’t a piece of information meant to be shared with the Foyes at the moment.
She hoped Ellery could tell her what was wrong with her. For all she knew, her witchy friend played host to an entire choir of voices in her head. And maybe Ellery would have some ideas about how they could root out information about the Sheehans. Miles turned her wrist over and stared at her watch face. Ellery would probably be home soon.
Miles found her chin being raised, and she shifted her gaze to the Cougar who’d again taken up a position beside her.
“Have somewhere else to be? I think customers like it a lot better when you answer the phone instead of one of us.”
“Hey, we’re getting better,” Sean said. “That last online review said that our customer service has improved vastly and he felt far less abused in giving us his money this time.”
“Pretty sure that guy was dealing with Ellery on his last order,” Mason said.
Hank shrugged, but there was that knavish twinkle in his eyes she’d seen in Sean’s so many times. He knew exactly what he was and what he’d never be. No one in town expected sweet gentleness from the Foyes, and Miles was to the point that she was no longer expecting any herself. Still…
He seemed capable of it, as demonstrated by his unceasing questioning about her illness. It had made her want to grab his face and say, “I’m really okay,” then kiss him until he believed her. She’d never been the type of woman who liked the challenge of winning over a skeptic, but she thought there was the bud of something there. He didn’t despise her—at least, his inner cougar didn’t. She liked that he initiated the touch, but where she found the glimmer of hope was in the fact it wasn’t just utilitarian proximity. When he touched her, he stroked and felt her. In five seconds, he could make her feel like a goddess. The problem was when he pulled away.
“I’m pretty sure your mother taught you boys to play nice,” Miles said softly.
“The lesson was taught, sure. We heard all the words, and even practiced the skills once or twice.”
“Lessons didn’t stick?”
He shrugged again. “You can domesticate a cat. That doesn’t mean you can civilize him, too.”
“Are you so uncivilized?”
“Probably compared to what you’re used to.”
“You’d be surprised.”
One of those red eyebrows inched up, but not in amusement, but…something else. She was still trying to get the hang of reading his expressions. Cats weren’t especially emotive—if Ellery’s witch’s familiar, Pumpkin Pie, was any example—and it seemed that trait might have carried over to the Cougars in their man forms, too. There seemed to be a short spectrum of expressions among most of the men. The women were pretty easy to read as a whole, but the men, not so much. If it weren’t for the clues gleaned from their voices and their body language, reading their moods would be a discipline she’d never unlock. It seemed far easier for Ellery, but Ellery was used to being around shifters. Wolves first, now Cougars.
“What sort of uncivil influences have you been in the close acquaintance of?” he asked.
“Besides you?” She cringed, realizing what had just come out of her mouth. The longer she spent in the company of the Cougars, the looser her filter became. That was shocking, seeing as how she’d been friends with Ellery and Hannah for ten years and not even they had managed to erode her self-control. They not only had quick wits, but flawless timing—a deadly combination in conversation.
“Ouch. Yeah, besides me.”
Her turn to shrug. “I’m nearly thirty. I’ve dated.”
“I would have thought you had a specific type.”
“I’d certainly like to hear what you’d think that might be.”
“D
on’t need to. I can guess that I’m not it.”
“I’ll have you know my type has less to do with appearance than personality. It’s hard to know what kind of person you’re really dealing with until you get him behind closed doors. I’ve known men in immaculate suits who’ve had the manners of pirates. I’ve known rednecks in busted-up boots and torn jeans who would have been humiliated at the mere thought that their mothers would hear they’d treated a woman poorly. I’ve dated everything in between, too.”
“Unsuccessfully.”
“I think I get to be the final arbiter of what success means.”
“Of course you do. I only mean that you haven’t settled down with anyone. You didn’t get very much cut off, did you?”
“Huh?”
“Your hair.”
She raked her fingers through it. “Oh. I haven’t had time to settle down. I work—worked,” she quickly corrected, because she couldn’t exactly go back to the hospital, and remembering that reminded her she still hadn’t figured out what to ask him for in trade—“too much. And no, I’m thinking about growing it out on the top and maybe the rest later. I’ve had short hair since I was twelve. If I don’t like it long, I’ll just cut it again.”
“Hmm.”
“Is that an I like that plan hmm, or an I’m not really listening to you hmm?”
“Neither. I’m just trying to picture you with more hair.”
“Believe it or not, it’s curly. Hard to tell at this length, but that’s why it stands on end when I roll out of bed. It wants to be wild, but right now it doesn’t have the volume.”
“I can’t imagine there being anything wild about you.”
“Again, you’d be surprised.”
That eyebrow went up again, but this time she could read the curiosity. She leaned in closer and waved him down to her level. She put her lips near his ear and whispered, “Perhaps you shouldn’t make assumptions about me.”
“Perhaps I shouldn’t. You want to tell me a little about that wild streak of yours?”
“Hard to do without telling other people’s business at the same time, but I might be able to come up with some sanitized version of events, if you insist.”
“I do insist.”
“You want me to tell you right now?”
He turned her wrist over and looked at her watch. “I wish. Need to finish cutting the wood for the piece I’m working on. After dinner, though. I’m on demon watch again. Drew the short straw. You can sit in my truck and tell me all about your escapades.”
“And you’ll tell me about yours?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes.
She took that as a no. “That’s fair, right?”
“Fair or not, there are a few things I’d rather you not know.”
The fact that he had some shame was a good thing. It meant he had regrets, and that was such a human characteristic. Having regrets made people relatable. “Does it have to do with a cat’s inability to be civilized?”
“Has a lot to do with that.”
“Why not tell me?”
“I can’t think of a single good reason to scandalize you.”
“Are you so sure I would be scandalized?” She’d already committed to staying, to being his mate. She had her hard limits, sure, but the chances were pretty low she’d flee over anything he had to say. If anything, she expected him to be far more surprised at what she planned on telling him.
She tried to be kind, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have an edge. Being sweet didn’t exclude her from deviance. Perhaps it was time the Cougar learned a little something about layers. Obviously, he had a few of his own, in spite of his refusal to discuss his past. But, in the meantime, she needed to learn a little more about the new voice in her head.
• • •
The moment Hank turned his back to take a stack of dirty dishes into Glenda’s kitchen, Miles found herself yanked up by the arm and pulled at an unholy clip onto the front porch. Ellery closed the door and put her back to it. “We’ve got maybe three minutes before that Cougar of yours figures out where you went and comes stalking after you. Tell me fast.”
“Oh.” Miles had forgotten just that quickly about the text message she’d sent Ellery from the other end of the dinner table. “First thing, as of this afternoon, there’s an occasional voice in my head that’s not mine. It only seems to pipe up about Cougar issues.”
Ellery made a face and a rolling hand gesture. “Okay, keep it moving. What’s the other thing?”
“The Cougar women told me some things about the local history and politics. Secrets are big in the glaring, and some things aren’t meant to be secrets, but none of the women would speak up about them because they’re generally regarded as hysterical and paranoid. They asked me to hold the fact they said certain things in confidence, so don’t say anything to Mason. I think they’re embarrassed by the reputation.”
Ellery rolled her eyes. “Probably not in their heads, either.”
Footsteps sounded inside the house, coming closer and closer to the doorway.
“Shit.” Ellery moved Miles down the stairs and onto the path. “Okay, back to the first thing. Tell me about the voice.”
“I don’t know what to say, except it’s not mine.”
“Could it be psychic?”
“I wouldn’t even know how to discern that.”
Ellery cringed. “Right. Shit. You wouldn’t. But no one around you seemed to hear it?”
“Not as far as I can tell.”
“What’s the voice saying?”
The inner door swung open and Hank peered through the screen. “There you are.”
“We’re not plotting a getaway,” Ellery said. “Could you give us a minute?”
He folded his arms over his chest.
“Come on, Hank. I’m your brother’s mate. I’m vested in staying put and seeing everyone be happily lovey-dovey.”
He just stared at her. That lovey-dovey bit probably wasn’t a huge motivator for him.
“Okay, fine. Be like that. If you want to be ornery, then remember that technically, I outrank you in the glaring.”
“You only outrank me on issues having to do with the administration of the glaring and the well-being of the Foye family.”
“And that’s what I’m doing. Administrating and”—she gave a dismissive flick of her hand—“instilling well-being. That’s what I’m doing. Yep.”
He rocked back on his boot heels and snorted.
“You don’t trust me, Cougar?” Miles asked.
He pushed the screen door open and stepped out onto the porch, locking his enigmatic gaze on her. It made her cheeks burn and her thighs clench, but she didn’t look away. “I dunno. I want to, but you two standing out here talking in secret reminds me of just how dangerous the female of the species is, and you two aren’t even Cougars.”
“You think I’m dangerous?”
He leaned against the porch support and made a huffing noise as he shoved his hands into the pockets of those tight jeans.
Miles let her gaze fall below his burnished pewter belt buckle to his powerful legs—legs she imagined being pinned beneath, held captive between. God. What was wrong with her?
“Sure, in aggregation.”
“Are we going to have a pissing contest?” Ellery asked. “I’m not wearing the right pants for it. Let me know and I’ll go change.”
“Do you abuse the patients at the hospital as much as you terrorize us?”
Ellery shrugged. “I have glowing references. Take that to mean whatever you wish, but go away. We’re having a grown-up talk. Shoo.” She made another dismissive gesture and went as far as to turn her back. “Now, as I was saying…” She winked at Miles.
Oh! Miles turned, too, and looked out past the scrubby grazing land that edged toward the mountain range in the distance.
“So, do you think our cycles are going to sync again this month, or—”
The door slammed behind them befo
re Ellery could even finish her sentence.
“Heh, heh.” She pulled Miles down to the steps and tossed her phone from hand to hand. “That always works. How’s it going with you two, by the way?”
Miles stretched her legs and planted her feet on the ground two steps down. “I don’t know. Everything feels muddled. Not simple or straightforward as most new relationships are. Usually, you know what’s supposed to happen next, but I don’t feel that because we’ve done everything out of order. I don’t know if I’m doing this right. He’s so hard to read.”
“Definitely the hardest of the brothers. He has a few tells, though. I wouldn’t want to play poker with Hank, but I can usually figure out his mood before he opens his mouth. The fact that he’s following you around like a hungry tomcat is a good thing.”
“I hoped it was.”
“Just keep on doing what you’ve been doing. I’m sure Mason will shake some sense into Hank if he needs to. Tell us if you think that should happen, and don’t wait too long.”
“Hungry tomcats just need to be fed, right?” For the life of her, she couldn’t tell what Hank hungered for or what he wanted—what his goals and ambitions were beyond making furniture and chasing demons. They’d done everything out of order. Normally, she would have known those things. She didn’t really need to know them, given the businesslike nature of their acquaintance, but she didn’t just want to be some cat’s mate in title when she could have an actual relationship. She wanted what Ellery and Mason had—genuine affection and mutual trust. The first had come more easily than the second, but Miles knew they both had to work hard for that trust. Miles had always been willing to work.
“Of course you are. That’s why you’re his.”
That voice again. Mile clapped her hands to her ears and stood, ogling Ellery. “Did you hear it?”
Ellery gave her head a slow shake. “No. You’re on your own with that. Tell me something, though. Are you hearing congealed, complete thoughts, or just snippets?”