She hung up and turned back to face him. “Get all that?”
“Yes.”
“You’re welcome to stay here until they arrive.”
He held up a palm in refusal. “Storm will be home soon. Besides, I’ll wait and meet them at Connie’s, I’d prefer that. I’d also ask you not come to my house, any of you.”
“All right,” she replied.
He knew he couldn’t stop them, but it would mean something, if they acceded to his request, and it was best if Storm didn’t get wound up by the presence of all these strange wolves, especially during the week of the full moon. A new thought struck Zach. “Are they coming here for the full moon?” After all, wolves had to run then, but he didn’t want them with him and Storm. Not when he didn’t know them.
Sally shook her head. “Angus can’t stay away from Wolf Town long. I imagine they’ll only be here overnight.”
Well, he’d see if that’s what happened, though it was hard to perceive anything but truth in those expressive gray eyes of hers. She’d said worry wasn’t the right word, and he asked, “What is the right word, if it isn’t worry?”
Her eyes widened. Her smile was guarded but genuine. “I just meant I like you, Zach, and I want what’s good for you.”
His face was heating up again. She sounded like she meant it. “We’ve barely met.”
She lifted one shoulder, a rueful kind of gesture.
“I have to go,” he said abruptly.
“Sure.”
He headed to the door, opened it, turned back to say bye.
She said, “Zach, I really am sorry to complicate your life. I don’t intend to bring harm to you or Storm, I promise.”
He nodded to acknowledge what she’d said, but as he jogged down her drive he couldn’t help but think intentions and outcomes were two very different things.
Something nudged him then, a shadow of a bad memory, something from the abyss that was his amnesia. As if someone else from those murky depths hadn’t meant him harm either.
Chapter Eight
The knock on her door came nearly two hours later. Jancis entered first, and she seemed bright-eyed, like she was excited. Angus, on the other hand, fixed Sally with a look that wasn’t too difficult to interpret, given the words that followed.
“What part of ‘keep your wolf away from the horse shifter’ did you not understand?”
“He wasn’t a horse,” Sally shot back. This was the thing she couldn’t stand about being a resident of Wolf Town, the idea she was answerable to Angus. She wondered if she’d ever be comfortable there. Maybe her idea of a new home there was a mirage.
Angus opened his mouth, shut it again, crossed his arms. He spoke softly, but there was steel behind his delivery. He was angry. “I don’t intend to play with words here. I wanted this to be about your humans meeting, and you understood that.”
Sally lifted her chin. She would not cower. “It’s better this way, out in the open.”
“Absolutely.” Jancis poked her head out from the kitchen. “We brought some food. Are you hungry?”
Saying no just out of spite was immature, so Sally gave a bare nod while Angus said, “Yes,” and preceded her to the kitchen.
“The point is,” Angus continued, as they settled around the table with a casserole probably made by the alpha himself, “I wanted you to stay safe.”
“Couldn’t be much safer.” Jancis waved her fork for emphasis or distraction, Sally wasn’t sure which. “Sally wolf and him human.”
“How do you know all this?” Sally hadn’t given them a rundown of last night. She’d have rather kept it to herself. Kept it private. Like Wolf Town knew what the word private meant.
“Connie Larson is a real pistol,” replied Jancis.
Angus raised his eyebrows. “That’s one way of putting it. You didn’t have to talk to her. I’ll grant her this. She’s invested in her grandson’s well-being, and that’s a good thing.”
“I was there when she called.” Jancis grinned. “It was pretty funny, listening to Dad being told off as an interfering old biddy.”
Sally felt her eyes widen and, despite herself, almost smiled. Somehow being told off by Angus—and arguing back—was not quite the trauma she feared it could be. He’d just let it drop instead of hammering her into the ground with it. “Connie said that?”
“Not in so many words.” Angus added with some disapproval, “Jancis is exaggerating for dramatic effect.”
“Why does Connie want to meet you?” Sally asked, more interested in this line of discussion than their previous one.
Angus sat back. “It’s a bit of posturing, you know, calling us down to tell us off. She’s afraid of wolves, with good reason. We just have to reassure her that she has no reason to be worried about our actions. And leave her open to the idea Wolf Town is a positive connection she can have for Storm.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” asked Sally.
“We did,” Jancis said.
“Once you were on your way.”
Angus raised an eyebrow in Sally’s direction. “You wanted to give me permission first?”
“I wanted to be consulted first. Your arrival has made Zach very uneasy.”
He cocked his head, like he found her statement interesting, and she could feel a blush rising on her face. But he didn’t question her further, and Sally steadfastly ignored Jancis’s smile. That her erstwhile roommate perceived there to be a budding romance going on here was ridiculous, and Sally refused to acknowledge the idea.
When neither Sally nor Angus said anything more, Jancis took pity—or her version of it—on both of them. “You know Dad just thinks any wolf will be happy to see another member of his pack, especially the ever-competent alpha.”
“Jancis,” Angus warned.
“And, Dad, you know Sally is prickly—”
“I object to that,” protested Sally.
“Better than ‘ever-competent’ and my implied self-satisfaction with that description,” muttered Angus.
“Oh, yes,” said Sally, getting riled again. “Prickly instead implies stupidly sensitive yet incompetent.”
“No, Sally,” said Jancis, no longer bright-eyed or amused, but dismayed. “That’s not it. I’m just trying to tell Dad you’re not entirely comfortable in Wolf Town. No one would have sent you here if they thought you were incompetent.”
Jancis’s evident distress stopped Sally from pointing out Angus had begun the visit by chiding her for her actions. But she did want to make the bigger point. “Zach is a shifter, but he’s no wolf. He doesn’t understand us. He’s been isolated.”
She watched Angus’s expression change as he asked, “How isolated?”
“Well, he’s obviously not feral, if that’s what you’re asking, given his current living situation,” Sally said.
Jancis smiled again, and Sally snapped, “What?”
Her friend shook her head and tamped down her smile, not willing to face Sally’s wrath.
“She’s noting that you’re protective of this horse shifter,” Angus deadpanned.
“So?”
“It’s very wolflike, which is no surprise since you are a wolf. Jancis finds it interesting it’s him you’re protective of.”
Well, Jesus, who else was there to be protective of? The rest of Wolf Town was so busy looking after each other there was no one left to protect. She tried to rein in her irritation with her visitors since Jancis was eyeing her again, as though Sally was acting weird.
“You never thought Jancis was such a romantic, did you?” Angus said dryly, which caused Jancis to glare at her father. “She keeps it well hidden.”
Jancis focused on eating the rest of her bowl, Angus winked at Sally, and she realized they meant no real harm. In fact, they felt a bit like family, aggravating but familiar and well-meaning. A long time ago, she had known a little about such things.
“Tell me all you’ve learned about Zach and Storm,” said Angus then, and Sally nodded b
efore she went step-by-step through her every encounter with them. She even admitted she’d shared some of her life with Zach, without going into specifics.
At the end Angus said, “Did Zach mention having a brother?”
“No. That doesn’t mean much. He isn’t confiding in me.”
Angus inclined his head in acknowledgment.
“Why?”
His words came out reluctantly, as if he was sharing a secret best left unshared. “There’s a horse shifter in Manitoba searching for his long-lost brother.”
For some reason this alarmed Sally. Perhaps because she feared it would alarm Zach. “Maybe Zach doesn’t want to be found,” she pointed out. “Otherwise why would he be long lost?”
“I don’t know.” Angus met her gaze. “I’d like you to find out exactly that.”
At eleven the next morning, Sally, Jancis and Angus drove into an estate containing four garages and God knows how many rooms in the mansion. Sally found her rented house large, but it was nothing compared to this.
They were meeting at the Larsons’. Angus had one purpose this morning: try to build a bridge between Wolf Town and Storm’s family, said family including his guardian Zach. Sally, on the other hand, was focused on Zach himself. She wondered why he didn’t live here. The place was large enough to accommodate them all. Daunting, even.
Angus rang the bell, and shortly after Connie opened the door and stood on its threshold, giving each of them a thorough going-over. Her gaze landed on Jancis last, and she said, “You’re like me.”
Jancis frowned at the tiny, white-haired lady, clearly wondering what they had in common.
“You carry the wolf gene but aren’t a wolf, correct?”
Angus put a protective hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “Can we come in?”
“Of course.” Connie turned a steely gaze to Sally. “Even you can enter, although I am holding your deception against you.”
Okay. Sally followed the others in and inhaled, searching for a sign of Zach.
They were led down a hall that opened into a large, airy room full of windows. There was Zach, rising from his chair. She met his gaze, which was flat, his face expressionless—an armor of sorts, she was beginning to recognize—and she tried to tell him with her eyes everything was going to be all right.
He barely acknowledged her as he proceeded to look at Angus, sizing him up. Typical shifter behavior, sizing up your supposed adversary. At least Zach didn’t pose with it. Then Sally became aware that yet another man had risen, an older man. He was being introduced as Arch, Connie’s husband.
“Thank you for coming here.” He shook hands as Zach just stood there, arms crossed, not interested in making any movement towards the visitors.
“Please sit down,” said Connie, and Sally took the chair next to Zach’s. The horse shifter was almost vibrating, the tremors so fine it was easy to miss until you were closely observing him. Zach zeroed in on Angus, and Sally swore under her breath. This was the time for the alpha to pull out his charm and work it.
Angus leaned back on the couch, body language relaxed and easy. “Thank you for having us here.” His glanced about the room, his gaze encompassing them all without conveying any kind of challenge.
At this point someone named Ellie was introduced to take their coffee and tea orders. Sally assumed she was hired help, as she didn’t seem to be family. When she left, Zach leaned forward, one arm resting on a leg, and spoke.
“I’m Storm’s guardian. He lives with me, with Connie and Arch’s blessing. We’ve got a good routine, healthy. He’s a happy boy.” He waited a beat. “When there aren’t wolves around.”
Angus’s face became serious. Not that he was acting, Sally knew he wasn’t, but he didn’t always strike her as completely genuine when he was being the political alpha or the glad-handing alpha.
“I understand. We’re not really ‘around’, as such.”
Connie said, “You’re leaving today.”
“Yes. We’ll be dropping Sally off at her home and be on our way.”
“Why doesn’t Sally go with you?” Clearly, Connie was very annoyed with her.
“She’ll come back to us, of course,” said Angus. “But she has commitments for the next four months.”
It was ironic, given Sally believed these well-off parents were capable of finding other competent piano teachers. However, she agreed with Angus on this one. If she could develop any kind of relationship with either Zach or Storm, it would all be good. She didn’t dig too deeply into why this appealed to her so strongly.
She slid her gaze sideways to find Zach watching her. “Storm has a real interest in the piano,” she offered.
That was stretching it a bit. The child liked Sally’s attention, and he liked Zach being involved, both good aspects of the Suzuki method. The rest would come.
“Really?” said Connie icily. “He didn’t want to play for me.”
“He’s not playing much yet. It’s just the beginning,” Sally explained. “It’s a process.”
Connie appeared unimpressed, as if Sally had been slacking on the music front. Before she could think of a reply or a segue, tea and coffee arrived, and people focused on getting settled with their requested beverage.
“Zach.” Angus placed his mug on the coffee table. “Do you have any family?”
“No.”
“Storm is his family,” put in Connie. “As are we.” She indicated Arch and herself, and seemed to mean it, even if there was little warmth in it.
“I don’t have any family either,” Sally found herself piping up because she didn’t want to leave Zach hanging out there by himself. Angus liked to play happy families, but the shifter singletons also soldiered on, flourished even.
“You haven’t said much, Jancis,” Connie observed.
Jancis sighed. “Well, I can tell you my family history, if you like.” She continued, rather monotone, like it was her duty. Angus didn’t stop her, but he did subtly shift towards her, as if in solidarity. “My brother, a werewolf, and myself, not, were abandoned when we were five years old by our mother. Close to Storm’s age,” she added with a flick of her gaze at Zach.
“Dad”—here she elbowed her father—“adopted us.”
“You must have been young,” said Connie to Angus, but her tone was less sharp than it had been.
“I was eighteen,” he replied. “I consider it one of the best things that ever happened to me. So you should know I’m all in favor of adult shifters adopting or becoming guardians of young shifters.”
The silence that followed was almost like a collective release of breath; they’d reached some kind of détente. Zach, Connie and Arch could maybe believe Wolf Town wasn’t out to interfere, and the rest of them felt like progress had been made. That a healthy link might be forged between Storm and other wolves.
Angus went on to describe what was in Wolf Town, referring to the school and the doctor, describing how people were welcome with open arms, be it visitors or those who came to live permanently. He touched on his relationship with the government who supported him. He described some of the people who lived there.
Connie, Arch and Zach just listened.
“You’re invited to visit at any time, all together, or if one of you’d like to come up, that would work too.”
On that positive note Angus decided to take his leave, choosing to keep the meeting short but sweet. He drained his mug then leaned forward. “We have a long drive ahead of us. Thank you for having us over. I have a card I’m going to give you.” He placed it on the coffee table. “If you ever need help or just want to talk something over, or of course visit… Well, anything. We’re here, and I’d be honored if you considered me your friend.”
As everyone rose, Connie said, “Thank you. I’m going to take you at your word here, about everything.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Sally moved closer to Zach and spoke in an undertone. “We all wish you well.”
Zach gave a sha
rp nod, more dismissive than anything else.
As they went to the door and said their goodbyes, it became evident Zach was leaving too. Sally would have expected a debriefing of sorts between Connie and Zach, but although Connie supported Zach, he was not comfortable with her. It gave Sally hope. That Zach’s discomfort with her was more about Zach than Sally, and something she could work on. Or at least something more than a personal failing on her part.
“See you this weekend,” Connie called as Zach walked away, and he lifted a hand in response.
“Zach,” said Angus abruptly, and walked towards him. Sally followed, finding herself quite determined to step between the two men. She disliked the idea of Angus hassling Zach.
Angus observed her position her body so she stood in front of Zach, facing Angus, and she didn’t want to even know what Zach thought of this. Her wolf was feeling quite snappy with the alpha.
“Just a simple question, Sally,” Angus said mildly. “I’m not planning to accost anyone today.” He pulled out his wallet, and from his wallet, a photo. Sally caught a glimpse as he held it up for Zach to see—a man with dark hair and dark eyes. She turned, just as Zach’s gaze left Angus’s face and dipped down to regard the photo.
His reaction was immediate. His face paled. He hunched, as if the emotional blow had been physical, his body curving to protect his midriff, and he made an inarticulate sound.
“What have you done?” Sally demanded of Angus who didn’t look at her, only watched Zach.
“The man in the photo is looking for his brother,” Angus explained to Zach.
For a moment, Zach appeared winded, and Sally wanted to place a hand on his shoulder. Sensing it would be a mistake, she refrained. Then Zach straightened and spoke, his face set, his voice expressionless. “I don’t know the man. I don’t know you. I’d ask all of you”—here he took in Sally—“to leave me alone.”
He turned on his heel and strode away, going around the side of the garage. Once he disappeared from sight, Sally wheeled on Angus.
Running Free (Northern Shifters) Page 7