A Shifter's Claim (Pale Moonlight Book 4)
Page 15
She went to rise, but he tugged her into his lap. Resting her sweaty head against his, she paused for a moment, then jerked her eyes up. “Do you think they made me think I was going rogue?”
“At the least, I think their interference would worsen what was already happening.”
She laughed, the sound full of scorn. “I don’t know whether I ought to thank them or murder them. If I hadn’t been going so crazy so quickly, I wouldn’t have leaned on you until I came to my senses.”
She grinned. The strain hadn’t left her eyes. He knew what she meant, but those Covets had to be taken care of. He could call the local Guardians, but the shifters weren’t breaking any laws of their kind, nor were they risking exposure. It was up to him and Shilo.
Waylon grabbed Shilo’s hand. “Let’s go.”
He took the same path to return to the spot in the alley where he could show Shilo the car.
She glared at the vehicle. I say we go full wolf and scratch the shit out of their car.
They’d try to turn us into road hash. Are you still feeling their influence?
It’s better out here. Like they’re targeting the apartment.
That’s a hell of an ability. He tried not to be jealous.
So is yours. It creates a safe zone, and I bet several pack leaders would hate to have you at meetings. She couldn’t hide her sadness. She would’ve been one of those pack leaders. But here they were, in a dark alley.
He evaluated their position. I don’t think one of us can get on the other side of them without being seen.
Open approach. Better than nothing.
Enough to scare them away. There was no way to shield Shilo from their gifts, or they could use this knowledge to their advantage. Instead, the Covets needed to be stopped.
He went first, swaggering to the best of his ability, a cocky grin on his face. “Look who we have here.”
“Oscar and Brynley Covet. Brother and sister extraordinaire,” Shilo taunted. The two shifters couldn’t deny their identity now. And the shock and alarm crossing both their faces were priceless.
The window of the black sedan rolled down. “What the fuck do you two want?”
“To know why you’re parked outside of Waylon’s place in the middle of the night,” Shilo said.
“Pack business,” Oscar said, rolling the window back up.
Waylon reached the car and gripped the edge of the window. The motor whirred, but he wouldn’t allow it to rise. “Here’s the thing.” As he spoke, Shilo sauntered in front of the car to the passenger side. She looked like they’d had an extra-sweaty session in bed and was irritated it’d gotten interrupted. “Some asshole shifter is in the area, using their abilities on my mate. What a coincidence, two assholes are parked on the street.”
Oscar’s lips curled, but Brynley smiled sweetly. “What a coincidence. I’m looking at two assholes on the street.”
Waylon lifted his hand. “Solid burn, bro.”
She sneered like her brother.
Shilo folded her arms across her chest. “I’ll make sure to mention to my parents that we happened to see you nearby.”
Brynley’s expression turned saccharine again. “You do that. For some reason, Ironhorse Falls doesn’t seem all that worried you left.”
Was it Waylon’s imagination, or did Oscar send his sister a warning glare?
Waylon straightened. If Covet had shifters roaming the woods and breaking down vehicles with their minds, what was to stop them from influencing members of any colony they wanted?
What was to stop them from turning the whole town against Shilo?
Icicles chilled his blood.
What was to stop them from turning the whole town against him? He eyed the other two shifters more critically. There was something else wrong, other than their lying faces, and he couldn’t pinpoint it. The street looked the same as it always did. Smelled the same. But something was different besides the shifter twins parked on the curb.
“Go on any nice runs around Ironhorse Falls lately?” Waylon asked.
Shilo cast a speculative look at him over the top of the car, but she didn’t say anything. Her nostrils flared. She sensed something was off. Between them, maybe they could pinpoint the oddity with their unwanted not-quite guests.
Oscar sniffed like it was a stupid question. “I’m a shifter. You’ve been among humans too long if you even have to ask that.”
Shilo snorted. “Bet you end up with a human.”
Brynley scoffed. “We’d never mate a human.”
“You’d better hope not. I’m sure any mate has to be cleared by your dear cousin,” Shilo said. “And I’m sure he’d hate for the Covet bloodline to be diluted by humans.”
Brynley’s furtive glance at her brother didn’t go unnoticed. And the quickly hidden alarm in Oscar’s eyes intrigued Waylon.
“Let me guess,” Waylon said, “you either have a human mate and keep her secret, or you fear having a mate at all and what your maniacal, calculating cousin will do.”
“Fuck you and your assumptions, Wolf.” Oscar started the car. “You wouldn’t know what being part of a pack is like.”
“I obviously know what it’s like to have not only a pack, but an entire colony shun me,” Waylon replied.
Shilo added, “And I know what it’s like to have to leave because of my mate. Keep that in mind next time you throw yourselves behind your ruthless leader.”
“He’s family,” Brynley said much less adamantly than she’d probably intended. “You’re an Ironhorse. ’Nuff said.”
Both windows rolled up and Oscar drove off.
Waylon stayed on the street and watched them go. “Think those fuckers convinced the town to hate me? Or are we giving them too much power?”
“Insidious thoughts stretched over many years? That wouldn’t drain them too badly.”
Made sense. “Building on suspicion that was already there.”
“Assholes.”
Waylon nodded. “Assholes that seem to fear Langdon Covet.”
They could use that.
Chapter 17
Shilo tapped her leg against the counter. Waylon would be home from work soon. Armana had swung by and dropped a laptop off. Brand new. Only one file with several documents downloaded. And a warning from Armana. The specialist said someone, or someones, worked very hard to erase Waylon’s existence. She didn’t find much, but maybe it’ll lead you to answers.
She was jittery, like the computer would self-destruct in T minus five seconds if she waited any longer.
Waylon came through the door, the cloying scent of arousal, sweat, and alcohol riding the wave inside. Only since they’d confronted Oscar and Brynley three days ago, Shilo wasn’t a ragey, exhausted bag of female.
But she still hit the bag to keep the stress down.
“Just the male I was waiting for,” she said and flipped open the top. She hadn’t so much as looked at the on button, afraid she couldn’t stop her curiosity from just doing one more thing until boom, she was combing through all the info that was pertinent to her mate.
He grinned, the hint of fang reminding her body of all the biting from the previous day. “I hope I’m the only male you’re waiting for.”
Wiggling in her seat to ease the sudden ache, she turned on the computer. Later. This was important. “Armana said there wasn’t much.”
Waylon’s gaze lit on the bright boot-up screen. “She found something?”
“Not as much as we hoped. But I think from the lack of information she found, we can deduce that you have something to do with the Covets and they’d don’t like it. Your history’s been wiped.”
Hope lowered to a simmer in his eyes. “Let’s see what she found.”
Only two documents were in the file, but there were five photos.
Waylon scooted a stool closer to her and sat. “What’s with all the pictures?”
“Armana scanned the photo we found and passed the image along to the specialist. She might’ve found s
imilar ones.” Shilo hovered the cursor over the files. “You pick. Which one first?”
Waylon took her hand off the tracking pad and folded it into his. His warmth surrounded her from that little contact. “I need you to know that whatever we find, I’m still Waylon Wolf.”
Why the hesitation? She’d clocked down the minutes until he returned, her mind spinning over what they might find. To her, it wouldn’t change anything.
But not to Waylon. She realized that now. He’d had to form his own identity. There’d been no pack to guide him. Uncle Wolf had taught him to survive, but Waylon had figured himself out. And he might have to make the journey again after she opened the file.
She squeezed his fingers. “It’s not a fork in the road where I go one way and you go the other. We stay together.”
“Okay. Documents first.”
Shilo opened the one the specialist had simply titled 1. The other file was labeled Hard to Find.
They simultaneously leaned into the screen.
A birth certificate? Shilo scanned the information. It was for Langdon’s father.
“Is there anything here you didn’t know?” Waylon asked.
“I didn’t know his parents’ names. Layton and Orina Covet. Layton took over the colony shortly after Langdon was born. Mother said it was a contentious fight that much of the colony didn’t agree with.”
Waylon pointed to one box. “Langdon’s not that much younger than me.”
But they didn’t know Waylon’s exact birthday.
Shilo clicked open the Hard to Find document. “Another birth certificate?”
“Mine?” The hopefulness in his voice was clear.
She scrolled down. “Two boys. Layton and Payton Covet. Same birthdate, but Payton is three minutes older.” Langdon’s dad had a twin. Shilo couldn’t see the significance.
“Holy shit, look at the parents’ names.”
Shilo’s jaw dropped. “Edward and Kayleen Covet. Edward C., from the note? Maybe the note wasn’t your name, it was the intended recipient’s name. And that’s why Uncle Wolf took you in once he heard about the note. At least, that’s what Mother was alluding to, I think.”
“I was raised by Langdon’s grandfather? I doubt it.” Waylon huffed out a breath. He stared at the document for another minute and shook his head. “The only birth certificate I care about is mine. I dunno. Maybe the hacker thought we could find a worthy opponent to challenge Langdon for the colony?”
Shilo shrugged and tapped on a photo. She and Waylon squinted at it. Not a photo, but more like a microfiche snapshot from an old newspaper. The article next to it had little detail other than that the photo had been taken at a harvest parade.
“That looks like the guy from your picture,” she said. She didn’t have to point to the guy on the horse in between two floats.
Waylon nodded, frustration shimmering in his eyes. “How about the next one?”
Another one from the parade, a broader view of the lineup, but this photo hijacked their full attention.
Shilo said what they were both thinking. “The guy in Uncle Wolf’s picture was either Langdon’s dad or his twin.”
The article was the same as the last. Harvest parade, blah, blah, blah. What was the third picture? She opened it to find a smiling man holding two squirmy bundles. Another microfiche that had been digitally uploaded. Shilo’s mouth curved up. Langdon’s greed for technology had worked against him. The headline of the article read: Edward Covet cradles the future of Covet pack, disappears years later.
“I’ll be damned,” Shilo said. “That’s Uncle Wolf. He really was Edward Covet.”
“No.” Waylon’s denial was resolute, but his expression scrunched. “I would know if I was raised by a Covet.”
“It’s not like they were a thorn in Ironhorse Falls’ side until Langdon took power.”
“Then why’d Uncle Wolf leave? What happened to him?”
Waylon knew Uncle Wolf better than anyone, but how could one male age so drastically in a few decades? In the picture, the father of the twins wore a broad smile with pitch-black hair. He was hearty and filled out with muscle, not haggard and world worn, with gray hair and a ragged beard.
“It’s hard to believe, but after the last month…” He tapped the screen. “Look at him. I never saw him smile.”
Each picture was more and more interesting. The fourth picture contained no actual photos, just a lone article. Shilo read through it, her shock rising with each sentence.
Uncle Wolf—Edward Covet—had lost his mate, a son, his son’s mate, and a grandbaby in a fire. Edward was a person of suspicion but hadn’t been found since his disappearance thirty years prior.
She exchanged a look with Waylon. No wonder Uncle Wolf had been an aged shell of himself. He’d lost his entire family. Except for his surviving son, Layton.
“Uncle Wolf didn’t kill them.” Waylon spoke with confidence. “He wasn’t that type of male.”
It didn’t make sense. “Why would Uncle Wolf turn away from Layton during his darkest time?”
“He lost his mate. He might not have known what he was doing. Did you see the date? It’s before Covet took over the colony.”
Shilo chewed on her lip. She’d been raised under colony politics. There was a glaring problem with this scenario.
“So… Uncle Wolf was presumably the pack leader for Covet, who used to be a subservient pack in Passage Lake. The son that would take over for him is tragically killed in a fire, along with his heir, and boom, Layton Covet, Langdon’s dad, challenges and wins leadership over the colony. And all this happens around the time you were found wandering on Ironhorse Falls land.”
“Suspicious as fuck.”
“Yep. But say you were Payton’s son and Uncle Wolf’s grandson. Layton won the challenge fair and square. His rule is undisputed until he is mysteriously killed years later. Langdon was too little to have anything to do with the family murders. He wasn’t to blame and would stay leader.”
“My only threat to him would be that I could challenge him for the role, which I’m seriously not interested in. But that doesn’t make me any different than any other ambitious Passage Lake member.”
One more picture. Waylon reached across her to click it open. Layton’s obituary.
Waylon leaned back and shoved both hands in his hair. “He died the same time I found Uncle Wolf dead in front of the cabin.”
“This is some straight-up soap opera shit going on. What do we do with the info?” she asked. Waylon might have a claim to the Covet pack, but he was the last person who wanted the position. He’d never wanted to lead. He hung back, watched over others, listened for the real problem.
“Oscar’s a weak point. We spy on him, then blackmail him to bring us one of the Covet pack members who was there when Layton took over.”
Whoa. That was…way more hardcore than her previous role as negotiator. It was also more than cowering in his apartment, beading a garment that, while a work of art, wasn’t going to save her colony from Langdon Covet.
But it was what the future leader of Ironhorse Falls would do to save her people. Langdon had proved the lengths he’d go to protect himself. He used subversive tactics and she knew outright force was only his last choice, not his last option.
“If Oscar’s coming to Freemont to see a human mate, we can nab him in town.”
“I say we need to stalk that waitress he was flirting with from the night at the restaurant.” He gave her a grin. “Chinese for lunch?”
“This is really boring.”
Waylon smiled at Shilo’s impatience. She wouldn’t have survived a cabin in the woods with no TV, no projects, and nothing to do but hunt and gather. Admittedly, this was worse. They were in his Jeep, with limited legroom, parked a block away from their surveillance target in the lot of a burger joint.
She balled up a fast-food bag and tossed it into the backseat. The last two hamburgers were on her lap. She handed one over. “We can’t even go inside and eat
real food. Their kung pao chicken is awesome.”
Unwrapping a burger, she scowled at the thin patty.
Waylon chuckled and took a bite out of his, leaving only half of it behind. No, it wasn’t kung pao chicken, but it filled him.
He finished his mouthful and said, “You’re just spoiled from my cooking.”
“Can’t deny it.”
Day four of watching the Chinese restaurant and the sense of anticipation churning in his gut might just be indigestion. When the restaurant was open, they spied on it. It was too risky to have Shilo out by herself. Between the two of them, they could watch each other’s backs. The two nights he’d had off, they’d driven to the edge of Freemont, shifted, and watched the highway coming from Passage Lake.
Nothing.
Shilo’s restlessness was spilling over to him. He had to keep telling himself—and her—that they had time. Not much before Ironhorse Falls either fought or fell, but with only the two of them, they couldn’t march into Passage Lake and demand to talk to all the older families.
Shilo slapped his arm. “There she is again.”
Waylon tossed his own wrapper in the back and peered at the restaurant. It was after the lunch rush, and the leggy blonde who’d flirted with Oscar the night Waylon had finally been with Shilo again strutted into the restaurant.
She’d worked last night, but no luck on the Oscar front. Why wasn’t he willing to fight for his mate? Langdon might force him to mate another, since that seemed to be his thing.
A man followed the woman to the door, holding it open for her, but when she disappeared inside, he let the door shut and remained outside. His hands were shoved in his pockets and he looked around the parking lot—not casually, but with intent.
“Isn’t that the bartender from the night we met Langdon here?” Shilo asked. “I had wondered if Oscar knew him, the way the guy couldn’t take his eyes off Oscar.”
Waylon defaulted to the game they’d started to fend off the boredom. “He’s a secret agent.”
She rolled her eyes. “You always start with that. Student. Young, but maybe not undergrad young. Masters?”