by Morse, Jody
“Well, it is,” Colby agreed, impressed by how intuitive his mate could be at times.
“It’s not intuitive, Colby. I watch a lot of movies.” She pulled one of the books from the shelves and sneezed as some dust blew into her face.
“You can’t access it from here,” Colby told her. “It only opens from the other side. Here, I’ll show you what I mean.” He pulled the rug up and opened yet another trap door.
Emma followed him down the steps and through another, smaller, hallway. It would have been large enough for their wolf forms to comfortably walk through, but in their human forms, they had to crouch down. They walked up a couple of stairs that led to a door, which Colby opened with a key.
When Colby flicked on another light, Emma raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t been expecting the room to be so huge. Rows of book cases lined the far wall, and two long glass cases sat on either side. There was also a table and chairs set up in the center. A spiral staircase that led to seemingly nowhere sat in the corner of the room, right next to the door they had just come in.
Colby followed her gaze. “That leads to the bookcase door.”
This place looks well-maintained. It doesn’t even look dusty. Someone must keep it up, Colby heard Emma think to herself. But the question is . . . who?
His mate turned to him. “How did you find this place?” she whispered.
“A little birdie told me,” Colby said mischievously.
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Bennett?”
“It’s always Bennett, isn’t it?” Colby laughed. “Yeah. A while ago, I saw a tray of food floating down the hallway. I asked him what it was for, and he told me it was for Grandpa Joe because he was out working in the barn. I asked him what he was working on and he told me that he couldn’t tell me, just that ‘there’s more to the barn than meets the eye’. So I knew there had to be something here. I followed Bennett outside without him knowing, all the way to the barn. And of course by the time I got to it, he’d disappeared. I looked all over for a clue to what he was doing, but I never did find it. Then one day I was out in the barn, not even looking for anything, and I dropped my phone. I bent down to pick it up and that’s when I saw the trap door handle peeking out from under some hay. I felt so dumb, because the whole time I didn’t even think to look there.”
“Wow. I didn’t even know about any of that,” Emma commented.
Colby hoped that she wasn’t upset that he’d kept it from her. “Grandpa Joe asked me to keep it a secret from Samara.”
“Why?” she questioned.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” He shrugged. “So, after I found the trap door, I asked Joe what it led to. I didn’t want to snoop around down here without asking for permission, so he brought me down here to show me around. He even gave me a key and told me a story and everything.”
“A story?”
“Have a seat,” Colby said, pulling out one of the chairs to the table. “I’ll tell you it.” He only hoped that he could tell it as well as Grandpa Joe had.
*
“What is this place?” Colby asked as he looked around the secret room in awe. There had to have been hundreds—no, thousands—of books. Every single one of them was about werewolves. He hadn’t even heard of most of them.
“My lair,” Grandpa Joe said with a chuckle. “Every one of those objects in those glass cases are important in one way or another. And also very dangerous if they fall into the wrong hands.” He studied his face seriously. “Can I trust you, Colby?”
“Y-yes,” he said honestly. He stood up straight, as if trying to prove his worth.
“Yes, I think I can,” Joe said with a nod, taking a seat at the table. It was covered with open books. “Have a seat. I want to tell you a story about what things were like when I was around your age.”
Colby sat down, eager to hear about Joe’s past.
“I was a very dumb and careless werewolf when I was younger. I didn’t care much about anything or anyone, so I made a lot of mistakes. I would often start fights with random packs, just for fun. That’s part of how I got so good at fighting. The other part was dumb luck. This was long before I’d found my own talisman, which increased my strength. I began to make a name for myself—though not in a very good way. Everything went downhill when my own pack exiled me. Back in the day, we had one major rule: humans were off-limits. I broke it.
I’d like to say it was for a good reason, but it wasn’t. I said it was, though. I made up this elaborate story about a bank robber holding a lady and her kids hostage, but there wasn’t any woman. The truth was, I was an out of control wolf. I think that’s just something that comes along with my blood line. You either go good or you go bad; there is no gray area.”
Colby nodded, knowing he was referring to himself and his half-brother, Orkos.
“People were scared of me. My own pack was scared of me. So, I wanted to redeem myself. I worked hard at spying on different packs all over the world. When I found one that had a power-hungry, evil Alpha, I’d help a pack get rid of him.”
“All those objects in those glass cases are talismans that I stole from werewolves I killed before I started trying to redeem myself.”
*
By the time Colby finished telling the story, Emma had already gotten up and started looking around.
He followed her over to the cases that held the talismans.
“I didn’t even know that other wolves had talismans.”
“Neither did I. Joe told me that it’s because it’s not like a wolf is going to go bragging about it to somebody.”
“Look, most of them have names beneath them,” Emma pointed out.
“Yeah, Joe kept a pretty good record of everything,” Colby told her.
“I didn’t know so many random objects could be a talisman,” she murmured. “There’s a book, and a coin.”
Joe had told him that anything could be a talisman, because the talisman chose you; you didn’t choose it.
Colby smiled at his mate, feeling better now that she seemed back to her old self again.
Chapter 18: Emma
Later that night, Emma’s eyes flew open when she heard someone coughing. She glanced over at Colby, who was snoring soundly next to her. It wasn’t him.
She heard the coughing again. It was followed by a sneeze and then crying.
Davenport.
Emma knew that Daven must have been sick. That would explain why he’d been sleeping so much lately. It was also probably why she’d seen him sneezing at the grocery store. But why had he been coughing out smoke? That didn’t make sense.
Emma rose to her feet and scooped the baby out of his crib. She headed to the kitchen where she made him formula, just in case he was crying because he was hungry.
He wasn’t, of course.
Heading back into the bedroom, she said, “Colby, you need to get up.”
Her mate groaned sleepily and covered his forehead with his arm. “But it’s not time for the pack meeting yet, Mom,” he mumbled groggily.
“No, but it is time for us to take the baby to the doctor,” Emma replied.
That seemed to grab his attention. He sat up in bed and glanced over at her. “Is he okay?”
“I’m not sure. I think we better get him to Dr. Mink right away.”
“Okay, I’m on it,” Colby said, grabbing his cell phone from the nightstand and calling the doctor.
*
An hour later, Emma and Colby sat in Dr. Mink’s office waiting on him. His nurse was already there to let them in, but the doctor hadn’t arrived yet.
Emma tried not to panic too much, but she couldn’t help but feel uneasy about being there. What if Davenport was really sick and she and Colby hadn’t even realized it until now? Did it mean that Emma was going to be a bad mom? If she’d already messed up during the first couple of days that Samara and Declan had left Daven in her care, how was she going to get through the next eighteen years with her own child?
Somehow, parenthoo
d already sounded like a nightmare, and Emma didn’t even have official confirmation that she was pregnant yet—just that there was a strong possibility.
Before she had time to ponder it more, the door was opened and Dr. Mink strolled in. “Good night,” he said, with the trace of a smile on his lips. “I’ve been seeing quite a bit of you two the past few days,” he noted.
“That’s the truth,” Emma agreed. She glanced down at the baby, who was peacefully sleeping in her arms now. “Davenport isn’t feeling too well. We’re not really sure what’s wrong.”
Dr. Mink’s eyes lit up with surprise. “I didn’t realize this appointment was for Davenport,” he murmured. “I thought you were the one with the cold. That tends to happen when there’s a change in hormones, even when you’re a wolf.”
Emma took a deep breath, hoping that the doctor wouldn’t mention the pregnancy in front of Colby—and, even more importantly, that Colby wouldn’t be his usual self and ask questions.
Luckily, neither of them said anything . . . not yet, at least.
Dr. Mink motioned to Emma’s arms. “So, this is the infamous Daven, huh?”
Emma nodded. “Yeah.”
“You know, rumor has it that he’ll be the next most powerful werewolf in the world. A future legend,” the doctor replied.
Colby cleared his throat, and said, a little too impatiently, “Yeah, well, he won’t be a legend if we don’t figure out what’s wrong with him now. He’s been coughing a lot, and Emma said she saw him sneeze, too.”
“And he’s been sleeping much more than usual,” Emma informed the doctor.
“Sleeping a lot? How much?” the doctor asked, taking out his stethoscope.
“He seems to want to nap for hours at a time,” Colby replied. “I know that I’m no doctor, but I’ve never seen a werewolf pup sleep even half as much as he’s been sleeping. And it’s definitely out of character for him. He doesn’t usually sleep this much.”
“It is rare for pups to want to nap more than an hour or two a day,” Dr. Mink agreed. “Many of them don’t even like to nap at all. They have so much pent up energy.” He listened to Daven’s heart beat and took his temperature. “Nothing appears to be wrong, but . . . are you certain that Davenport is a wolf? His high temperature does indicate that he could be, but then again, it also indicates that he might be a human baby with a really high fever.”
“We’re sure he’s going to be a werewolf,” Colby replied. “He was born in his wolf form.”
“Hmm.” The doctor hesitated for a few moments. “As you may know, it’s common for werewolves to catch human colds or flus during childhood, usually before they make the change to wolves when they’re sixteen. However, it’s extremely rare during the first two years. But that’s not to say that it isn’t possible, either. It happens in about two percent of cases.”
“So, what can you do for him, then?” Emma asked. “Prescribe him antibiotics?”
Dr. Mink shook his head. “No, antibiotics really don’t do anything for werewolf pups, to be honest with you. He’ll just have to recover from the cold on his own, if that’s what the problem is.” He paused for a few moments before adding, “With all of that being said, however, I want you to be aware of another possible cause of coughing and sneezing in werewolf pups.”
“What is it?” Colby asked with wide eyes.
“There is a virus that affects some werewolf pups,” Dr. Mink explained. “It’s incredibly rare, but when it happens, the pup presents cold-like symptoms and then shows signs that he or she belongs to another pack.”
“Wait, what are you saying?” Emma asked with raised eyebrows. “If Davenport has this virus . . . he’s not a member of the Tala?”
Dr. Mink shook his head. “No, he wouldn’t be. Like I said before, this virus is incredibly rare. Doctors aren’t even sure how it’s contracted. But in the rare cases where a baby is affected, it’s a sign that he belongs to another pack.”
Emma gulped. She had a bad feeling about this—a really bad feeling. And as she’d proved time and time again, her feelings weren’t something to ignore.
One glance in Colby’s direction told her that he felt much calmer about the whole thing, though. “So, in your expert opinion, it’s much more likely that Davenport just caught a human cold or flu, rather than this virus you mentioned, right?”
Dr. Mink pushed his glasses up his nose. “Well, it’s difficult for me to give you a definitive answer either way. Statistically, a cold or flu is much more likely. We could run some blood work, but if it’s just a cold, the chances are greater that he’ll recover before we even get the test results back. There’s also a test for the virus, too, but that can take a while as well.” He sighed before continuing. “I tell you what. How about we try riding this whole thing out for about a week before we decide if we want to run some tests? If he doesn’t recover by then, it’s probably not a cold.”
“This virus . . . Is it deadly?” Emma questioned, a feeling of nausea washing over her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was wrong with Davenport went beyond just a simple cold or flu. She didn’t even want to think about what would happen if he’d somehow acquired a deadly virus under her care—or at all. Samara had already lost one person who was important to her.
“No, the virus isn’t deadly,” Dr. Mink replied, shaking his head. With a sad look in his eyes, he added, “It does have some serious outcomes, however. If little Davenport has the virus, you’ll need to figure out which pack he’s been assigned to instead of the Tala and then find a way to convince the Alpha to allow him to remain on your pack, too. And, to be honest, you might find that a little challenging. I hate to be the one to say it, but the chances of any Alpha giving up the opportunity to have the future world’s most powerful werewolf on his pack easily are slim.”
*
During the drive home, Colby and Emma sat in silence. She was too worried about everything that they’d just learned to even worry about Colby or how he was feeling. All she could do was worry about her best friend’s son and what they were going to do in the worst case scenario.
“Do you think we should call Samara and Declan?” she asked once they were almost home.
“No! No, we shouldn’t do that. We don’t want to ruin their honeymoon. They only get one, you know, and I’d say it’s well deserved. They really need some time to themselves.”
“I know, but . . . what if he’s sicker than we think? What if there’s something really wrong with him?” She didn’t want to say the last thought that entered her mind aloud: What if he’s not a part of the Tala . . . but another pack?
“Stop worrying, Emma Bear,” Colby told her gently. “Everything’s going to work out in the end. And, besides, you heard what the doctor said. The chances of Daven having that virus are really unlikely. It’s probably just a cold . . . nothing to worry about.”
“I hope so,” she replied. “I really hope so.”
Still, she didn’t feel so sure.
Chapter 19: Colby
After they tucked Davenport in for the night—with no problems, since he still seemed to be very tired—Colby turned to Emma, who had been exceptionally quiet despite his many attempts at making conversation. “Do you think that maybe we should talk?”
“About what?” she asked, turning away from him and pulling down their lightweight satin comforter.
“Whatever’s bothering you,” he replied. “All week, ever since you went to see Dr. Mink, I’ve felt this . . . this distance between the two of us. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Emma replied flatly. “I’ve just been tired, that’s all. I’m stressed out by Daven being sick.”
“You can say that, but . . . I just know that there’s something else going on,” Colby replied. He sat down on the bed and turned to her. “Are you having doubts about us?”
“Of course I’m not,” Emma insisted, pulling her to him and kissing him on the lips. “You’re my mate. Even when times get tough, nothing is
ever going to change that. I don’t think I could have doubts about us even if I wanted to. I’m drawn to you in a way I’ve never been drawn to anyone before.”
Colby didn’t even bother to hide the smile that crossed his lips. Whatever had been going on with Emma, he felt some relief in knowing that she felt that way. And when it came down to it, she was right. Nothing could ever tear the two of them apart.
*
It was three o’clock in the morning when there was a loud knock at the door. Colby cracked one eye open and glanced over at Emma, who was sleeping. The knocking continued, growing louder now.
Who would be knocking on their door at three a.m.? That was all he could seem to wonder as he climbed out of bed.
The knocking had died down a little by the time he reached the front door. He glanced out the window, surprised to see Emma’s stepdad, Gary, standing on the front step.
Knowing that Gary had been fairly angry ever since Samara had turned him into a wolf, Colby took a deep breath before nervously opening the door. “Everything all right, Gary?”
Gary stared back at him blankly. “Who are you, and how do you know my name?”
“Oh, it’s a long story,” Colby replied, realizing that he and Gary had never actually met in person. He only knew what he looked like because there had been pictures of him on the news when a big dog—AKA Samara—had gotten into the hospital and attacked him. “I’m Colby, Emma’s husband,” he said, extending his hand.
A look of sadness filled Gary’s eyes. “I always thought I’d walk Emma down the aisle one day. I didn’t realize she was married. I missed so much since I became a wolf.”
It surprised Colby that Emma’s stepdad would feel that way, since, as he understood it, they hadn’t really been close back when they were both still humans. Maybe being a werewolf had given him the time he needed to reflect about the mishaps in his human life, though.