Stag and the Ash (The Rowan Harbor Cycle Book 5)

by Sam Burns

  “Dude, you were hungry. Hungry people do stupid shit, and stealing a sandwich barely counts as stupid when you need food.” Jesse shoulder-bumped him. “If you want food while you’re here, check the fridge anytime. Eat anything but the strawberries. Those are Sean’s.”

  “Done.” Anthony’s stomach growled, as though prompted by talk of food. He sighed. “We just ate.”

  “Bet it was the first decent meal you guys have had in a while.”

  “Decent? It was amazing. So good. When can we eat the cake?”

  Jesse laughed. He hadn’t expected or wanted company in his house, but as far as houseguests went, Anthony wasn’t so bad. All of them were pretty okay, in fact. “How about we go check on Joshua and Madison, and if they’re game, we’ll plate it up.”

  “Sweet!” Anthony hopped up and headed for the door. The kid took his cake seriously.

  Jesse followed him down, and they found Joshua and Madison sitting on the couch. He looked a little annoyed, and Madison’s smile was a little weak, but neither said anything about it.

  “Who wants cake?” Jesse asked, ignoring the mild tension in the room.

  Everyone took the excuse to forget about the argument, and they headed into the dining room. Jesse waved to the cabinet where he kept the dishes. “Could someone grab plates and forks? I’ll get the cake from the fridge and meet you guys at the table.” The kitchen was nice, and big enough for two people to cook together, but four was pushing it, and there was a dining room for a reason.

  He came back with the cake and a knife to find that Madison had pulled out five plates. One for Sean, he assumed, which was sweet of her.

  When she saw him looking, she blushed. “I figured the boys will eat anything you don’t save and hide from them, so we should make sure to save some for your boyfriend. She didn’t give it to you just for us.”

  “She kind of did, but I’ll save him a piece, anyway. Cool?”

  Everyone agreed, so Jesse set to cutting the cake. It was big enough to make a lot more than five slices, but he gave the boys enough for two people, and let Madison cut her own. It reminded him of how his mother treated Mr. Volkov when the families spent time together—be generous with his family and let him make his own decisions—so it seemed like the right thing to do.

  She cut herself a much smaller piece, which Jesse couldn’t fault her for. It was a lot of sugar. He cut some for Sean and himself and set the rest aside, but he didn’t put it away in case the kids wanted more.

  “I can take you down to see the high school principal later if you want, Anthony. Or you can wait. I’m sure she’ll find a way to fit you in, whenever you get there.”

  Anthony smiled at him. “You think? I only need an English credit and a science one.”

  Madison sighed, and her shoulders slumped a little. “I tried to get them to make an exception, but they were pretty apathetic. Just kept saying these are the rules, and then giving me prices for summer school classes, like I was going to be able to—” She broke off, and her eyes went wide. “I mean—”

  Jesse felt like he was steamrolling her every time he dismissed her concerns, but he didn’t know how else to deal with it. “You’re fine. I don’t know if there’s usually a fee for summer school here, but I’m sure we can take care of it. It’s two classes, man. How much could it cost?”

  Anthony frowned. “You’d be surprised. But I could get a job too, and I can pay for it.”

  Madison didn’t look thrilled by the prospect, and Jesse had no idea why, but he thought maybe he’d interjected himself into their group dynamic enough for one day. He stood. “You guys go ahead and eat. I’m gonna see about the blanket and stuff.”

  Madison looked like she wanted to stop him, but she didn’t. He tried to tune out their conversation about how hard it was to go to school and work at the same time, and went to get Madison’s bag, the blanket, and pillows, and set them all on the couch.

  He wanted to sit down and take a nap. He’d had strangers in the house for less than an hour, and he was already exhausted. That could have something to do with the fact that he’d hardly slept the night before, but it was more than that. His mother would tell him it was the effect of having strangers in his home, and then she’d tell him it was his responsibility to do it, anyway.

  “Thanks, Mom,” he muttered to himself.

  Part of him wanted to go back to work. He had a schedule to keep, another shop he was supposed to visit for the day, but he suspected his schedule was shot not only for Wednesday, but for the whole week.

  That annoying wolf in his brain might want to take care of the kids, but it didn’t want to leave them alone in his home. It disliked the idea of leaving Sean alone with them even more. Sean was an adult and capable of taking care of himself, but that didn’t mean Jesse wanted to take chances with his safety.

  He threw his feet up on the coffee table and grabbed the remote. It looked like he was in for a long week. He had no idea what he was going to do with them during his weekly meeting at the bar the next evening. He sure as hell couldn’t bring them.

  He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Devon.

  You’ve heard, right?

  Yeah. Everything okay?

  So far. Just no idea about dinner tomorrow.

  The five of them—Jesse, Devon, Isla, Fletcher, and Cassidy—had started having a weekly dinner together at The Wharf bar. The location let Cassidy work if she needed to, since she didn’t have a real night off, but Thursday was the quietest night the bar had. After the warning they had received from Oak in February, it seemed like a good idea to keep up with each other in case anyone needed support.

  Let me know if you need to miss it. Someone can take notes if there’s anything important.

  Jesse rolled his eyes. That was his best friend. He really would sit there at dinner with their friends and take notes if Jesse asked him to.

  I’ll figure it out. Maybe I’ll ask your aunt to take them to dinner. One of them still needs to do some high school stuff.

  This is going to be a long story, isn’t it?

  In response, Jesse sent a laughing emoji. He heard movement from the dining room and kitchen area, so he turned and stood, but Madison came in, followed by Joshua.

  “Ant’s cleaning the plates,” she explained, motioning toward the kitchen.

  “Fair enough. I guess with five of us, no one has to do dishes every day anymore.” He looked at both of them and saw no signs of emotional distress, which was reassuring. He hoped Anthony hadn’t been relegated to the dishes because he had cried and they didn’t want anyone to see his red eyes. He held up the remote. “Who wants to pick something? It’s the usual. Eight hundred channels, nothing on. At least nothing I care about.”

  Joshua snatched the remote, then looked to Madison as though asking permission. She waved him off. “Don’t care, as long as you know you’re going to bed at, like, ten.”

  “I could have slept on the couch,” he grumbled, and Jesse had never in his life been so happy to hear a car pull into his drive. Sean’s car, too; he must be back from the store.

  “Sean’s back. I’m gonna go help with the groceries. You guys go ahead and watch TV. There’s not room in the kitchen for everyone to help.” It would be a tight fit with three of them, let alone everyone.

  Before either of them got a chance to respond, he was out the front door and waiting for Sean to turn the engine off.

  Sean raised an eyebrow at him. “Happy to see me?”

  Jesse pulled him out of the driver’s seat, wrapping both arms around his waist and leaning in for a kiss. “Always. Especially now, but always.”

  For a moment, he just stood in his driveway and held Sean. He hated that the Blakes had lost everything, but it definitely reminded him that whatever was happening in his life, it could be a lot worse.

  “I love you,” he whispered into Sean’s hair.

  Sean squeezed him tighter. “Love you too, you big sap. Now let’s get the groceries in befor
e things melt.”

  4

  Duck, Duck, Alpha

  As it happened, Alannah Cormier was more than happy to have dinner with the kids. In fact, she wanted to talk to all three of them about college options, and suggested that they meet at four, so they had enough time to cover everything.

  Hana had given Madison a job for three nights a week on a trial basis, to see if it worked for all parties, and then Jesse had left the three of them in Mrs. Cormier’s capable hands.

  Joshua complained that he didn’t want to go to college, and tried to convince his way into Jesse’s dinner with the gang, but however fast and loose they played with some social norms in Rowan Harbor, Joshua was eighteen and The Wharf was a bar. Not that Jesse had wanted to take him, but the drinking age helped.

  Joshua had sighed and seated himself in the booth Hana had given them to listen to Mrs. Cormier talk about the wonders of college, but his eyes followed Jesse out of the diner longingly.

  Jesse wondered what the kid intended to do with his life. College or not, he’d have to decide on a path. Maybe he could intern at the police station or something. Sit at the desk and not spill coffee on Wade.

  He made a mental note to talk to Joshua about it later.

  Oh gods, he was turning into his mother.

  He shuddered at the thought.

  The drive to the bar was hardly long enough to warrant starting the car, but Jesse liked his car, so he drove everywhere he could.

  He parked in front of The Wharf a few minutes later. He was surprised that he had to psych himself up to go in. He loved spending time with his friends and didn’t think he was an introvert like Devon. On the other hand, he hadn’t slept well two nights in a row and hadn’t been alone in more than twenty-four hours. It was starting to tire him out.

  When he saw Fletcher come up the sidewalk in ratty jeans and a T-shirt that advertised some kind of kids’ cereal, he took a deep breath and got out of the car.

  “I could have picked you up, man,” he said by way of greeting.

  Fletcher shrugged, hands jammed in his pockets. “I like walking.”

  “Weirdo.”

  Fletcher’s only answer was a lopsided smile. A few months earlier, Jesse would have worried about joking with the guy in his usual abrasive way, but they were getting to know each other, and Fletcher was taking him less seriously as the weeks passed. It was for the best. Jesse, taken seriously, was horrible. He was kind of a jerk either way, but especially so when you didn’t assume everything out of his mouth was a joke.

  “I wasn’t supposed to bring food, was I?” he asked. The Wharf didn’t serve much in the way of food, so they traded off bringing dinner, and the owner, Max, didn’t complain about it.

  “Nah, I think it’s Devon’s week, so we’re looking at pizza or takeout from the diner.” He seemed to think of something and perked up. “Or maybe he brought Wade. Wade had the afternoon off.”

  When they opened the door to the smell of fried chicken, they looked at each other and nodded.

  “Wade,” Jesse agreed. “That’s probably good. He can tell me if he’s found anything about the Blake family.”

  “I did,” Wade said from the table they usually used, where he was setting out dinner.

  “Is that potato salad?” Fletcher asked cautiously, biting his lip and looking like he wanted to snatch the container and make a run for it.

  Wade nodded. “Yep. And Devon kept turning his nose up at it, so have at.”

  Devon came out of the back hallway, drying his hands on a paper towel. “Darn right, I did. Everyone knows potato salad is filler for people who don’t know to save room for pie.”

  “Children,” Wade muttered. “I’m surrounded by children.”

  “But Dad,” Cassidy said in a whiny, nasal tone. “I only want the chocolate cake.”

  With a flourish, Wade pulled a container from a bag and handed it to her. “Only you can get away with that kind of whining, because you’re the least demanding.”

  Fletcher pouted but took a seat at the table and pulled the potato salad toward himself. “That’s because she doesn’t need to actually eat food.”

  Wade shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  Isla came around the bar with a tray full of mugs. “Okay, I’ve got something for everyone. Just nobody drink Jesse’s since it’s the poisoned one.”

  Devon snorted. “She says that like it’s a joke, but I still say it has arsenic in it.”

  Isla handed him a foamy mug of light green liquid. It looked like a Saint Patrick’s Day celebration, but it tasted more like a designer carbonated green tea. Also, it got Jesse nice and toasted if he had more than one. With his metabolism, that was quite a feat.

  For a while, they passed around drinks, filled plates, and started eating in the quiet bar. It looked like the customers had taken it to heart that they had their dinner there on Thursdays, because even old man Danvers, who Jesse sometimes thought lived at the bar, was absent.

  Finally, Jesse looked at Wade. “You found something?”

  “Exactly what they said. Mother was killed on her way home from work one night. Father had a hard time with her loss, exhibited some seriously bad behavior. If the boy hadn’t turned eighteen when he did, he’d have probably been removed from the home.” Wade paused for a while to let them process that before continuing. “Then the kid reported his father missing. They found him four days later. It looks like hunters. Same for the mother. It’s not impossible to kill a wolf accidentally, but it’s hard enough that it doesn’t usually happen in muggings gone wrong, which was what they deemed both cases.”

  The atmosphere went heavy for a moment. Hunters of the supernatural had come to the harbor in January. Jesse would know; he’d killed one. It had been the first time he’d ever taken a life. Sometimes he wondered if there were something wrong with him, that he didn’t feel bad about it. It wasn’t an experience he wanted to repeat or relive, but he wasn’t sorry he’d killed someone who had hurt so many people. The world was better without him.

  But was that Jesse’s decision to make?

  No one had questioned him for making it in the heat of battle. Everyone called it self-defense. That was the only thing about the situation that really bothered him. No one was holding him in check. They all assumed that because he’d done it, there had been a good reason. What if there hadn’t been, and he was just like the other man and enjoyed hurting people?

  He shook his head. Damn, he was being maudlin. “Anything on the kids themselves?”

  Wade shook his head. “Madison Blake has no record, and an excellent school transcript. Same for Anthony Blake. The other one, it took me a while to find him with no last name, but apparently—you guys will like this—it’s Anderson.”

  A laugh went around the table.

  “Man, they’re gonna take over the world one of these days,” Fletcher muttered.

  “Anyway, he’s got a couple of minor juvenile offenses, but it looks like petty, rebellious stuff. Tagging, ditching school—stuff thousands of teenagers get in trouble for every day.” Wade seemed unconcerned, so Jesse dismissed it. Neither of them had gotten in trouble as teenagers, but no one wanted Regina Hunter disappointed in them.

  Cassidy chuckled and took a bite of her cake. “I had four arrests under my belt by the time I was that age, and they were a damn sight more serious than tagging.”

  Isla laughed and leaned against Cass. “Yeah, but you’re an exception. Most bad seeds turn to lives of crime, like bootlegging.”

  Jesse was starting to wonder if something other than friendship was going on there. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions because he’d love to see his friends happy, and so much the better if it were together. Or maybe they were sharing long looks and touching more than they used to.

  “Hey now, she’s a reformed bootlegger,” Wade said. “And since she’s technically dead, I’m sure her record has been purged.”

  “I’m only reformed because I don’t need the money anymore,” Ca
ssidy admitted. “Also, selling booze hasn’t been illegal in a long time. Thank fuck.”

  “Is there anything else?” Devon asked Wade. His tone caught Jesse’s attention—Devon was worried about something.

  Wade shook his head. “Not really. They’re kids. No real history of making trouble. The father let his life insurance lapse, which is a fucking crime as far as I’m concerned. The kids were left with pretty much nothing.”

  “Do you have something, D?” Jesse asked.

  Devon shook his head. “Just a bad feeling, cliché as that is.”

  “About the kids?” Wade asked. He looked like he was considering investigating again, when Jesse had no doubt his brother had found everything available to find.

  Fortunately, Devon dismissed the concern with a wave. “Not especially. About the whole situation. Someone is up to no good. For all we know, the kids are in as much danger as the rest of us, and that’s not better.”

  Now that, Jesse could agree with, no reservations. “I wondered about that. I mean, if you wanted to kill supernatural creatures, they were easy pickings until they got to town. Three kids on their own, with no money, who know jack about being werewolves.”

  Fletcher frowned at that, cocking his head and looking at Jesse. “But they were adults when their parents died. They should know . . . everything.”

  “Believe me, I know,” Jesse said. “I thought it too. Their parents were negligent. I’ve been wondering, though, if they didn’t know much either. It doesn’t sound like their dad was much of an alpha.”

  Everyone around the table looked at him with varying degrees of doubt and disbelief.

  “I thought—” Fletcher started, and Jesse cut him off.

  “I know, okay. I’ve been the guy telling everyone for years that alpha wolves are a stupid concept, and there’s no such thing. But something about their family unit screams wrong. Aimless. Drifting. Losing one person undid everything they had. I don’t know, maybe their mom was their”—he sighed—“alpha.”