Lover Wolf (Shifter Falls Book 2)

by Amy Green

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “The story has a happy ending. We woke up one morning and found that Charlie had died in his sleep. What a day that was.” He chuckled softly. “The best day of my life, really. It hasn’t been topped yet.”

  “Do you think someone killed him?” Tessa asked.

  They reached the end of the drive, and Brody’s house appeared. It was built of rich timber, set with big glass windows, from which light glowed into the darkness. A true Colorado wilderness retreat. The kind of place a man like Brody could disappear into, without being tempted to leave. A fortress.

  “I don’t know,” Heath said. “It was never proven. The post-mortem said it was heart failure, but who knows? All I know is, it wasn’t me. And if someone did it, I’d like to give that bastard a parade down Howell Street in his honor.”

  They sat in silence for a minute. He seemed as reluctant to leave the car as she was. Tessa thought about her life, her childhood, her parents. The fact that Scott was dead, murdered, and it had something to do with her. The fact that her apartment had been ruined. Heath had spent fifteen minutes inside, searching and scenting to make sure whoever had done it was gone, before he’d let her go in. He wouldn’t let her walk into danger.

  And her mother had always said that shifters were no good.

  “Do you ever think,” she asked him, “that maybe you’ve been making wrong choices in your life?”

  That made him laugh softly, considering the story he’d just told her. “Regrets,” he said, paraphrasing the old song. “I’ve had a few. Are you ready for what’s next?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Me neither,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”

  8

  Heath had only been to Brody’s place a handful of times, since Brody liked his privacy. Most wolves liked their privacy—their homes were their dens, where only their mates were welcome. But Brody was pack alpha, and the pack didn’t do anything as mundane as rent an office downtown, so when they weren’t meeting and arguing over chili at the Four Spot Diner, they sometimes came to Brody’s place.

  Devon and Ian were already there. Anna, Ian’s mate, was coming too—mates were considered equal partners, even when it came to pack business. Charlie’s women had never had the privilege, because they’d never been official mates, just women he used and discarded.

  Brody gave Tessa a serious look when she came through the door. “Are you okay?” he asked her. “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m okay, thanks.” She had her arms crossed over her chest, but her chin was up.

  “Okay, then, have a drink.” Brody motioned to the bar along the far side of his living room wall. “I think you need it.”

  Heath watched as Tessa’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Why does a werewolf have a bar in his living room when he can’t get drunk?” she asked.

  Brody gave her half a grin. “Why does a werewolf go to the Black Wolf every night when he can’t get drunk?” he asked back. “We like the taste. Though I’ll be honest—this bar was here when I bought the place.”

  Heath followed her all the way into the living room and watched her look around. Brody’s place was impressive—high, timber-beamed ceilings, big windows looking out into the darkness, a few sofas and chairs with blankets thrown over them, and a massive fireplace along the back wall. It was too warm for the fire to be lit now, but Heath knew that in winter, the blaze in that fireplace could keep the entire house warm.

  “Okay, we need to talk business,” Brody said as Heath watched Tessa get a drink. She opted for a scotch and soda. Nine months working with her in a bar, and he’d never seen her take so much as a sip before. “Heath,” Brody said, interrupting his musing by putting a piece of paper in front of his face. “Read this.”

  It was handwritten on a simple piece of white paper, the writing blocky and thick. Dear Donovan pack, this is just the beginning. You’ve had things your way for long enough. It’s time you took a look at your territory. How big is it? How strong do you think you are? Our wolves are hungry and ready to fight. Give us back our pack daughter, or you’ll see worse. It was signed XM. Xander Martell.

  “That was dropped off at the police station an hour ago,” Brody said. “Quinn Tucker gave it to me.”

  Tessa was looking at him curiously, so Heath passed the paper to her. Then he walked to one of the sofas and dropped onto it. “So Xander Martell wants territory,” he said. “And Tessa.”

  “Exactly,” Ian said. He was pacing, as he usually did when he was agitated, standing in front of the big window and staring out into the trees. “He’s broken away from his father’s pack and wants to start his own. With Charlie dead, he probably sees weakness here.”

  “Everyone sees weakness with Charlie dead,” Devon growled. He was sitting on one of the other couches, his big bulk making the cushions sag. “Everyone is wrong.”

  “Absolutely,” Brody agreed. He dropped into one of the chairs in front of the big fireplace and rested his elbows on his knees, his hands dangling. “The question is, what are they going to do next? And what are we going to do about it?”

  “Hit back,” Devon said immediately. “Find out where they’re holed up and hit back hard.”

  “Normally I’d agree,” Ian said, pacing in front of the window, “except my gut says that’s what Xander Martell wants us to do. I’m not game for walking into someone’s trap.”

  “Excuse me.” Tessa was standing next to the bar, one sexy hip leaning against it. She held up the note. “This says I’m their pack daughter.”

  “Well, obviously they think so,” Brody said, “since they made a play to take you.”

  She looked around at them. “What exactly happened to Scott?”

  Brody winced, but Devon answered. “Found in the woods,” he said. “Ripped open.”

  Tessa put down the note. “So a werewolf did it? One of these Martells?”

  “No,” Heath supplied. She turned and looked at him. “A human did it,” he explained. “It was made to look like a werewolf kill. But if it’s the same as the first death, the scent at the scene is human.”

  “Which means it wasn’t Martell himself that did the killing,” Ian said, thinking it out. “He’s got a human to do his dirty work for him.”

  Devon grunted. “A human who’s very good at dirty work. Quick, quiet, gets away clean. Leaves no clues.”

  “And ruthless,” Heath added.

  “That, too,” Devon said. “I’d like to find this fucker, even more than I want to find Martell. But let’s find Martell first and kill him. Send a clear message we are not weak.”

  Heath ignored Tessa’s look of silent shock—she was unused to the way Donovans, especially Devon, talked when it was only them in the room. “That could get us in trouble,” he said. “First of all, I agree with Ian—he wants us to try it, which means we’re dancing to his tune. But it’s also a bad idea politically. We don’t know enough about Xander Martell’s relationship with his father. Killing him might bring retaliation and war with the Martell pack.”

  His brothers were quiet, and he realized he’d surprised them.

  It was Brody who spoke first. “Well, hell, Heath is right,” he said.

  “It’s simple,” Devon said. “They attacked first.” That was the Donovan pack motto, after all—blood for blood.

  “Not so simple,” Heath returned. It never ceased to amaze him, how Devon couldn’t see the big picture. Even Ian was better at it. “Martell has been clever. He hasn’t attacked a Donovan directly. He’s centered his attack on Tessa, which he can claim is only an effort to get her back, and a few humans. If we retaliate, it looks like an act of war. Christian Martell may be angry with his son, or frustrated—or, hell, he may have disowned him. But if we kill Xander, all of that disappears and we invite revenge.”

  They were staring at him again, but before anyone could speak the front door opened and Heath smelled Anna Gold.

  Anna was Ian’s mate. He’d met her when she’d done a study of werewolf cu
lture—with Ian as her particular subject—for her thesis. The thesis had been disallowed, and she’d had to change her topic to get her degree, but the effort hadn’t been wasted. She’d finished her school year going back and forth between Denver and Shifter Falls, and now she was in the Falls permanently, installed in Ian’s apartment. She was a beautiful girl, fresh-faced, with long dark hair and wide blue eyes. She was smart, confident, good-natured, unafraid of werewolves, and thought Ian walked on water. Judging by the way Ian stopped his pacing and watched her come into the room, the feeling was mutual.

  Anna looked around, saw Tessa, and held up a shopping bag. “Hi,” she said. “They said your apartment was trashed. I brought you some things.”

  Tessa put down her empty scotch glass and the note, looking surprised. “Um, that’s really nice of you.”

  “No problem,” Anna said, handing her the bag. “It’s some toiletries, and some clothes. I had to guess at your size, but I think I got it right.” She rolled her eyes. “My idea. Werewolves never think of these things.”

  Tessa took the bag, her cheeks flushed.

  Anna turned to face the rest of them. “Okay, what are we talking about? This Martell jerk?”

  She caught Heath’s eye, and he felt himself smile. He’d always thought Anna was a breath of fresh air. “Pretty much,” he answered her.

  “We can’t kill him,” Ian filled her in. “It’s a bad idea. That’s as far as we’ve gotten.”

  “We can’t kill him yet,” Devon corrected him.

  “We’re taking it under advisement,” Brody said.

  “Killing is not a good idea,” Anna agreed. “Especially since I just came from talking to Quinn Tucker, and I have news.”

  Heath felt himself tense. “What news?” Brody asked.

  “The second guy who was killed.” Anna glanced apologetically at Tessa. “Scott. He was killed in the woods, but technically his body fell within Grange County limits.”

  Heath followed the logic, but it was Devon who went tense in his seat, his back going straight. “Shit,” he growled. “That means the murder is in Grange County’s jurisdiction.”

  “Bingo,” Anna said. “The Grange County sheriff has taken over the investigation. And Grange County’s population is human, not shifter.”

  Brody swore. “That means we’ve got human law enforcement involved.”

  “Quinn’s guess is that the sheriff will be here by morning at the latest, wanting to dig into the first murder,” Anna said. “And apparently she’s very good.”

  “She?” Heath asked.

  “Her name is Nadine Walker,” Devon growled. “I’ve had run-ins with her before. And yes, she’s good.” He looked around. “She’ll meddle. It’s what she does.”

  “Could she be working for the Martells?” Brody asked Devon.

  Devon shook his head. “No chance. She’s a do-gooder if I ever saw one. She can’t be bought.”

  “Well, damn,” Brody said. “There goes my next idea.”

  They debated this a little longer, but Heath tuned it out. He watched Tessa. She was still standing with her hip cocked against the bar, her arms crossed loosely over her breasts. He wondered if she understood the implications here. Human justice and shifter justice were two very different things. Shifters settled their grievances their own way, to their own satisfaction. The less they had to do with human courts, laws, and prisons—all of which were heavily weighted against shifters, who were seen as the low dregs of society—the better off they were.

  But Tessa was human. If she decided that a human sheriff was more trustworthy than the Donovan pack to solve her ex’s murder, there wasn’t much they could do.

  She glanced at him, and he realized she looked exhausted. She’d had a hell of a day. He raised an eyebrow at her in silent question—Are you okay? Do you need to get out of here? She blinked back at him, as if he’d surprised her.

  Heath turned back to the general conversation and broke in. “As much as I enjoy debating killing Xander Martell,” he said, “we can talk about that tomorrow. To me, the top consideration is keeping Tessa safe, since he’s already made an attempt to kidnap her. And going back to her apartment is out of the question.” Whoever had broken down her door the first time could do it again, and next time she might be home alone. No, Tessa was never going back to her apartment if he could help it.

  “We can keep her under guard,” Brody said, “but that’s not a long-term solution. Though I guess we should ask the question.” He turned to Tessa. “Tessa, do you want to go to the Martells of your own will? Take the chance to find your heritage?”

  She curled her lip in that way Heath had seen any time he’d asked her a stupid question, and he had to fight back a smile. “Go to a bunch of werewolves I don’t know, who already tried to abduct me and murdered Scott? Forget it. I’ll stay in the Falls, thanks.”

  “We can arrange a meeting if you want,” Brody offered instead. “So you can at least hear what Martell has to say.”

  “He can send me a damn email,” she snapped. “That doesn’t require the date rape drug.”

  Brody’s brows lifted. Ah, yes. That was his take-no-shit Tessa. Heath realized he actually was smiling now.

  “Listen,” Tessa continued. “I don’t care about Martells or pack wars or anything else. I’m human, but Shifter Falls is my town. What I want is to live there and manage the Black Wolf and get my apartment back and make all of this go away.”

  Brody shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said gently. “There’s no way I can guarantee your safety.”

  “You can if I’m a Donovan,” Tessa said.

  Heath felt a chill of premonition run down his spine.

  “A Donovan?” Brody said.

  “Like her,” Tessa explained, pointing to Anna. “Would a Martell ever put his hands on her?”

  It was Ian who answered. “Never. It’s shifter code never to disrespect another’s mate.”

  “Well, that does it, then.” Tessa lifted her chin, and Heath knew with every cell of his being what she was about to say next. It electrified him like lightning. “The best way to protect me is if I take a Donovan mate. I think Heath will do.”

  9

  She said the words to Brody, but from the corner of her eye she watched Heath. He had gone still, and now he coiled tense in shock, his face blank.

  There was silence in the room, and then Devon laughed. “You’re kidding,” he said.

  “I’m not,” Tessa said. It was easy, wasn’t it, for a man who was half wolf and weighed north of two hundred pounds to laugh? It wasn’t so easy when you were a defenseless human woman. But Tessa had always been resourceful. This situation was frightening, and it sucked, but she wasn’t entirely without defenses here.

  If you couldn’t be a werewolf, then you could use one instead.

  Especially if the particular werewolf you used looked like Heath Donovan.

  Heath stood up, a quick, lithe movement, as if he could no longer bear to sit still. Once on his feet, he shifted uncomfortably, ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus Christ,” he said.

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Anna said uncertainly.

  “A mating of convenience.” Brody’s voice was thoughtful. “I don’t think it’s ever been tried.”

  It was Ian who was certain, his voice final. “It will never work. Never.”

  Tessa’s heart was pounding. She fought to keep her breath even, so her agitation wouldn’t be so visible for everyone to see. “Of course it will work,” she said. “If I’m Heath’s mate, Xander Martell won’t touch me. That’s werewolf etiquette, isn’t it?”

  “It’s more than etiquette,” Brody said as Heath stalked to the big window and looked out into the darkness, silent. “It’s our nature. No shifter touches another shifter’s mate, ever. And that goes extra for an alpha wolf. If Martell abducted Heath’s mate, there is not a single wolf who would follow him for ten feet, let alone follow him into war. He’d be an outcast, if not executed by
his own pack.”

  “Mating can’t be taken lightly,” Ian argued. He looked at Anna, and they shared a wordless communication that no one else could read. “It’s important. It’s intense. It’s commitment. It isn’t just a ruse to keep another wolf away.”

  “I know all of that,” Tessa argued. “I’ve lived here all my life. I get it. I’m fine with it.” Now her cheeks heated, damn it, though she tried to appear cool. “I still think it will work.”

  “Casanova here has to agree,” Devon pointed out.

  There was a moment of silence as everyone looked at Heath. He was standing with his back to them, looking out the window, his hands on his narrow hips. He had taken off his jacket and wore his white button-down shirt and jeans, his sleeves rolled up, his dark blond hair curling against the back of his neck. Looking at him, Tessa was thinking the same thing everyone else in the room was probably thinking. Mating with a werewolf required a sex ritual of some kind. Shifters were cagey about exactly what it entailed, but it was supposedly intense.

  Mating also meant fidelity. Tessa would never be free to have sex with anyone else ever again. And neither would he.

  Heath seemed to know that everyone was waiting for him to say something. He turned and looked back over his shoulder, his hands still on his hips. He ignored everyone else in the room as his gray eyes unfailingly found Tessa and pinned her for a long minute.

  “Can I at least sleep on it?” he asked her.

  Tessa felt herself flush hotter.

  “Fine,” Brody said, breaking the tension. “It’s a crazy idea, and we’re not deciding anything tonight. Tessa, you can stay in my guest room until we figure out something safe for you tomorrow. Everyone else go home.”

  Devon got up, and Ian crossed the room toward Anna, but Heath stayed where he was. His gaze flickered briefly to Brody. “I’m not leaving,” he said.

  Not while she was here, he meant. Tessa dropped her gaze.

  Brody shrugged. “Fine. I can use backup if there’s trouble anyway. Sleep on one of the sofas. Tessa, come with me.”