by Celia Kyle
She just needed a break from all the absurd hipness surrounding her. Up ahead, like a beacon shining through thick fog, a sign she recognized caught her eye. It hadn’t changed at all, maybe a little faded, just like Lucy. Beans, her favorite little coffee shop when she’d been sixteen-going-on-twenty-six. It sported the same green awning and dozens of flyers for local events plastered the window. Pushing the door open, the same silly chime rang out, announcing her arrival.
The older lady behind the counter stood with her back turned to Lucy while she blended something in an old-fashioned milkshake machine. A beefy guy with flowers braided into his beard and the prettiest pink Hello Kitty roller skates leaned against the counter waiting.
“Extra flaxseed oil, if you can,” he said.
The woman bobbed her white cotton candy-topped head and then poured the concoction into the guy’s reusable mug before setting it on the counter. Wiping her hands on her apron, she smiled placidly and told him the price.
Lucy nearly choked. Taking into account sales tax, that funky smelling shake had cost the guy fifteen bucks. And he actually appeared pleased about it! As he skated past her toward the door, a piece of straw stuck firmly between his lips, she couldn’t help gawking after him for a second.
“Well, look who the cat dragged in,” said a raspy voice behind her. “Lucy Morgan, as I live and breathe.”
Turning, she greeted her old friend with a smile. “It’s good to see you, Miss Violet.”
Miss Violet Beauregard had aged as well as her coffee shop. That is to say, barely at all. Maybe a few more wrinkles and a little more white in her hair, but overall, she was the very picture of a sweet Southern lady.
Lucy approached the counter, glancing at the menu board bolted to the wall before refocusing on Vi. She hugged Vi awkwardly across the counter. “And here I thought this was the one place in town that hadn’t changed.”
Vi shook her head and sighed. “Don’t get me started, sugar. But,” she shrugged, “if people want cat poop coffee, I’m happy to charge them for it.”
Lucy gasped. “That… can’t be a thing. Can it?”
Vi nodded toward a couple canoodling in the corner, noses buried in their phones as they sipped from their reusable mugs. “You should ask them. They like to call it kopi luwak, but I just call it cat poop coffee and charge ‘em extra for it.”
“Um…” Lucy wrinkled her nose and scanned the menu board for something a little less exotic.
“Don’t worry, honey-pie,” Vi reached for a ceramic mug. “I still have regular ol’ coffee that’ll put hair on your chest, just for locals. It’ll cost you a buck, though. Afraid inflation is inflation.”
“Sounds perfect,” Lucy flashed a grin and dug in her pocket for a couple of bucks—one for the coffee and one for the tip jar.
“You got it, sugar.” Vi caught Lucy’s gaze as she poured. “So, what do you think of all the changes around here since you left?”
Lucy searched for the right words that would convey her conflicted emotions without sounding rude. “There sure are a lot more vintage record stores than when I was a kid.”
“Comic book stores too,” Vi added with a wry chuckle. “Antiquing sure has changed, hasn’t it? But we’ve still got the best of the best. Last month, we were voted one of the top ten antiquing destinations in the entire country.”
“Wow, that’s impressive.”
Vi shrugged and held out the steaming cup of black coffee. “Don’t get too excited. It was on Hipstermania.com.”
Lucy laughed as she took the cup from Vi and tried to hand her some money. Except, the woman waved it away, her hair floating around her head in a cloud as she shook it.
“Consider it a welcome home gift. But don’t get any big ideas.” Vi narrowed her eyes in a mock-glare, lips twitching. “Next time, you’re paying full price.”
Lucy grinned. “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Violet.”
Rounding the corner, Vi ushered her to a nearby table and sat across from her. “How long are you in town?”
Lucy dropped her gaze to her coffee and took long sip to stall. “I, um… I’m not sure. I just came to check on my parents’ house.”
“Well, if you get a chance, you really should pop into some of the newer shops. Most of it’s not my thing, but you’re young and ‘with it,’ or whatever the kids call it these days.”
“I certainly wouldn’t say I’m ‘with it,’ especially considering everything I saw in the windows made me want to throw a brick through them.”
Vi laughed so loud she drew the attention of the cat poop-swilling couple. Though not for long because two seconds later, they were back to scanning their phones.
“Well, I can’t argue with you there. What no one can argue with is that, ugly kitsch or not, Ashtown hasn’t had a boom like this for as far back as I can remember. And my memory is excellent.”
“That’s great to hear,” Lucy was genuinely happy her hometown was doing so well.
“And it’s all the doing of Mason Blackwood. You remember him?” Vi gave her a curious glance over her bifocals, a small smile twitching her withered lips.
Lucy frowned. “I don’t know Mason, but the name Blackwood sounds familiar. Kinda reminds me of a couple guys from high school, but they must have been his brothers.”
The Blackwoods had been the hot, popular guys and Lucy… had not.
“They’re good boys. They’ve been instrumental in growing Ashtown, but it was Mason’s work with the Park Service that really helped. He developed a wonderful hiking trail system through the woods that brought a lot of people to town, and then word spread about all the other wonderful things we offer. Those hipster and outdoorsy types flocked here.”
At Lucy’s strained smile, Miss Violet gasped and reached for Lucy’s hand.
Vi’s eyes opened wide at the mention of the woods. “Oh, honey, I didn’t mean—”
“No worries.” Lucy took another drink.
Awkward silence stretched out between them for a few seconds before Vi cleared her throat and tried again, bless her heart.
“How’s Tessa doing? I sure do miss her. You too.”
Lucy’s shoulders relaxed. “Grandma’s still as feisty as ever. I’ve been staying with her recently, and I tell you, she’s still pretty spry. Although I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about not being there for her right now.”
Vi leveled a mock-glare at her. “I’ll have you know your grandmother and I are the same age. We might look like dinosaurs, but that doesn’t mean we need to be supervised like toddlers.”
“Oh, trust me, I know.” Lucy released a soft laugh and her smile widened. “It’s not her I’m worried about. My friend Ally is staying with her while I’m gone, and God only knows what fresh hell Grandma is putting her through. Ally is a bit of an introvert.”
Vi snorted. “I hope your friend has some thick skin.”
“If she didn’t before, she will by the time I get home. Of course, considering Grandma’s taste for prying into business that is very much not hers, it’s quite likely Ally has already locked herself in the bathroom and is refusing to come out.”
Vi laughed heartily, irritating the hipsters in the corner. Actual live conversation must have been more than they’d bargained for when they decided to visit a coffee shop.
“Either that or she’s on a flight halfway around the world,” Vi quipped.
They sat and chatted—gossiped, actually—for a good ten minutes before new customers wandered in. This time a trio of young women sporting wildly colored hair and carrying hula hoops. Miss Violet glanced at them and sighed quietly.
“Welcome to the asylum,” she whispered as she stood. “Better go help them, but please come back and see me again before you leave town.”
Lucy promised she would and then headed outside to resume her walk. Cars whizzed past and she couldn’t help thinking the city council’s apparent plan to use potholes as speeding deterrents wasn’t working out so well.
J
ust as the thought crossed her mind, the ear-splitting scream of a child in pain filled the air. A flash of grief swelled inside her chest, thoughts of her parents rushing forward. The cry reminded her of her own scream during the attack on them. She’d been paralyzed with terror that night, but she wasn’t a clueless teenager now. She hadn’t done anything back then, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
Chapter Three
A little boy, no older than six lay on his back in the street, rocking back and forth as he hugged his skinned knee. His scream of surprise had turned into wails of pain. Lucy glanced around for the tyke’s parents but couldn’t see anyone near him. What she did see turned her blood cold. A huge SUV bore down on the boy, and even at a distance, she could see the driver staring at his phone instead of the street.
Without thinking, Lucy darted across the road, feet pounding on the asphalt. She bent low and scooped the little boy in her arms, holding him close as she continued her run. Her heartbeat thundered, and adrenaline flooded her brain, urging her body to move faster, push harder. She hadn’t even made it to the sidewalk before the SUV sped past. The roar of its engine drowned out all other sounds, and the wind it generated pulled at her hair and buffeted her clothes. As if the massive vehicle fought to capture her, angry it’d missed out on its prey.
Fear plagued her, but it was nothing compared to the boy’s full-blown panic. He wriggled in her grip, snarling and scratching her skin. She struggled to hold him carefully as she lowered him toward the ground, unsure if he’d sustained any injuries. It wasn’t until he somehow reached her leg with his sharp little teeth that she gave up and let him plop down. The adrenaline coursing through her veins didn’t allow her to feel the full depth of the pain, but she knew there’d be hell to pay later.
“Hey, buddy,” she carefully turned him by the shoulders to face her, “no need to bite. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”
Wild brown eyes collided with hers, utter terror in his expression, and it took a minute for her words to reach him. His expression softened and calmed, his tiny shoulders slouching, and then tears filled those soulful eyes. His lower lip wobbled, chin quivering. No. Not a crying kid. Anything but a crying kid. What the hell was she supposed to do with him?
“I’m sorry,” he sniffled. “I didn’t mean to.” He hiccupped and then launched into a long rambling explanation. “I know I shouldn’t have. I know it’s forbidden. But the kitty was in the road and the big car was coming and I needed to save her and I know pups shouldn’t care about kitties but she was so cute and fat—”
His babbling continued, only silenced by a feminine shout. A beautiful young woman ran to them and kneeled before the boy, checking out his scuffed knee.
“Charlie, sweetheart, what happ—”
The woman stopped talking when she caught sight of Lucy’s bloodstained jeans and the pale skin beneath the tears in the fabric. Her eyes widened and she paled at the perfect circle of tiny punctures. Lucy had barely registered the injury, though now that she looked at bite, she wondered how little Charlie managed to chomp deep enough to draw such a steady stream of dark blood.
“Oh my God,” the woman breathed, her frightened eyes flicking between Lucy and the still-sobbing child. “Charlie, what did you do?”
Charlie hiccupped and launched himself into his mother’s arms, burying his face in her neck. Lucy’s heart ached for the little guy and Lucy gave the mom a reassuring smile.
“It’s okay. Just a flesh wound, as Monty Python would say. See?” She wiped away the blood, but it was quickly replaced by more.
She frowned, staring at the wound. Strange, it should have slowed down. That was also the moment she realized pain thrummed through her to the beat of her heart. The rush of adrenaline must have numbed her to the pain and it now gradually came forward. Still, it was a bite from a six-year-old, not some massive, feral animal. It wasn’t as if the kid had rabies, or something. She’d be fine.
Except the woman had other ideas. “Robert!” the woman shouted, desperately looking over Charlie’s head for someone. “Robert! Hurry!”
A tall, handsome man sprinted around the corner toward them. Without so much as a “How dee do,” he kneeled to examine her wound.
“What the hell happened, Bonnie?” he asked. He sounded upset, but not angry, exactly. More… frightened.
“I’m fine, really,” Lucy insisted. She bent and lowered her voice, speaking directly to the newcomer. “Charlie was just scared. That SUV almost hit him and then a strange woman grabbed him. I know he didn’t do it on purpose. It happens.” She shrugged, pretending not to feel the rising agony. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to sue or anything.”
Robert and his wife exchanged dark glances, speaking that strange silent language only couples who’ve been together for ages understand. Bonnie stood, still holding Charlie in a fierce hug, and stepped back. Robert turned back to Lucy and tried to smile, but it came across like a grimace.
“Miss, would you please allow us to get you treated?”
Lucy snorted. “Treated? I’m sure it’ll be fine. I just need a Band-Aid. I swear I’m—”
She broke off when she stood and lost her balance, clutching at her new pal Robert to catch herself before she went ass-over-teakettle into oncoming traffic. Without a word—or her permission—Robert swept her into his arms and headed down a side street. Lucy wanted to object, wanted to feel outraged that some stranger had taken such liberties, but her head was still spinning from standing too fast. Bonnie and Charlie scurried along after them until Robert pushed through a glass door.
Robert gently set her in a chair and then went to the reception desk and whispered with the nurse, their voices too low for her to hear. She relaxed into the seat, and now that she was sitting, her head began to clear. The place didn’t smell the greatest, but it had that “doctor’s office” feel. She took a look around the space, inspecting her new surroundings, and it didn’t take her long to figure out that this place was… different. Instead of dreamy images of clouds with inspiring quotes on them, the frames on the walls featured photos of cute kittens and puppies playing together. Another featured a dog gazing up at its owner in the sunset. There was one that showed a lizard stretched out on a rock in the middle of the desert.
Then the glass door opened, and a woman walked in with a rabbit in a cage.
Dear Lord, she wasn’t in a doctor’s office. She was at the vet’s!
Bonnie took the seat next to her, Charlie still cradled in her arms. She faced straight ahead, but Lucy sensed the woman watched her with her peripheral vision. Probably waiting for the inevitable reaction to being taken to a vet’s office.
“This is really nice of you guys,” Lucy finally said, standing more slowly, “and I appreciate your wanting to make sure I get treated.” She made sure she added the right amount of Southern appreciation. “But I think I’ll go to my own doctor when I get home.”
“Please let Dr. Cooper take a look,” Bonnie pleaded, eyes wide with something akin to panic mixed with horror.
The fear in Bonnie’s eyes gave Lucy pause, and she tipped her head to the side, brows scrunched. Charlie’s mom was genuinely worried about the bite he’d given Lucy. Maybe the kid had some weird kind of disease? One only a vet could treat? Unlikely, but still, something was off.
A tall, handsome man in his mid-thirties, with neatly trimmed brown hair and mysterious grey eyes, strode from the back. A long white lab coat billowed behind him as he moved, and it didn’t take Lucy long to deduce he must be the amazing Dr. Cooper. He kneeled in front of them, Robert hovering at his back and chewing frantically on a thumbnail.
“Drew,” Bonnie’s breath whooshed from her lungs and she sounded more relieved than seemed reasonable. The town really had changed a lot. Then she leaned in and spoke so quietly Lucy barely heard her. “Charlie bit her.”
Charlie whimpered again and kept his face hidden, buried against his mother’s neck. Dr. Cooper, on the other hand, turned as wh
ite as Lucy’s shirt. Well, as white as it used to be. After her adventure, it was more of a grimy grey with streaks of black and splotches of dark red.
“Got it,” Dr. Cooper’s tone was tense and clipped. “If you’ll come with me, Miss…?”
He stood and held out a hand to her. Lucy still couldn’t believe she was going to allow a veterinarian to check out her injury. Then again, she’d been bitten by a kid pretending to be a puppy so it kinda made sense? Sighing heavily, she took his hand and allowed him to help her stand.
“Morgan,” she answered. “Lucy Morgan.”
Dr. Cooper flashed her a megawatt smile and Lucy wondered what kind of insurance she’d need to keep Dr. McHottie as her doctor.
Chapter Four
Thanks to the smoke from the fire, the evening’s sunset lit up the sky over the mountain with a stunning array of reds. Mason tried to forget about everything that had happened that day, just for a moment, as his government-issued Jeep Cherokee bounced over the rutted road that led to the pack house.
Except, as much as he tried, he couldn’t stop those whirling thoughts from intruding. And they weren’t pretty. They bounced around as much as his ancient green Cherokee. The topics ranged from how much longer he had before he went fully feral, to how Anders fared after their spar-turned-attack, and then, to who’d set the damned forest fire and why. Of course, he didn’t have answers to any of the questions, which only pissed off him and his wolf.
Acrid smoke clung to him like shit on sheep, but the underlying scent bothered him most—gas. It hadn’t been an accidental fire started by some negligent camper. Someone had set the fire deliberately, and it had taken a team of twenty firefighters—mostly members of his pack—to contain the blaze. As angry as he was that someone had purposefully put his men’s lives at risk, the culprit’s identity made him even angrier. That made anger edge toward rage.