Iron Kissed mt-3

by Patricia Briggs

  She stopped talking. I handed her the washcloth so she could do her own face. "I've been running cold water over it; it should feel okay on your bruises. I think your dad will feel better if you get cleaned up a bit. You'll look pretty bad tomorrow, but most of the bruising won't show for a couple hours yet."

  She looked in the mirror and gave a gasp of dismay that reassured me that most of the damage was surface. She hopped off the toilet and opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out makeup remover.

  "I can't believe Gabriel saw me looking like this," she muttered, dismayed, as she scrubbed at the mascara on her cheeks. "I look like a freak."

  "Yep," I agreed.

  She looked at me, started to laugh, and then her face crumpled again. "Tuesday, I have to go to school with them," she said.

  "They were Finley kids?" I asked.

  She nodded and went back to cleaning her face. "They said that they didn't want a freak in their school. I've known—"

  I cleared my throat rather loudly, interrupting her—and she gave me a little smile. Her father could hear us, so it was better not to give him too many hints about her attackers. If they'd done more to her, I wouldn't be so concerned for them. But the incident wasn't worth people dying over it. What was needed was an education, not a murder. However, those boys needed to understand just how dumb attacking the Alpha's daughter was.

  "I didn't expect it at all. Not from them," she said. "I don't know what they'd have done if Gabriel hadn't seen what was happening." She gave me a smile then, a real smile that didn't stop when she pressed the cold cloth against her lip, which was beginning to swell up pretty well. "You should have seen him. We were in that little parking lot behind the art gallery, you know, the one with the giant paintbrushes out front?"

  I nodded.

  "I guess Gabriel was walking on the little road below us and heard me cry out. He was up the hill and over the fence as fast as my father could have done it."

  I doubted that—werewolves are fast. What I didn't doubt was that the effect of being rescued by someone like Gabriel, who, with his velvety brown skin, his black eyes, and his fair share of muscle, was not exactly hard on the eyes at any time.

  "You know," I told her with a conspiratorial smile, "it's probably a good thing that he didn't know who they were, either."

  "I'll find out," said Gabriel behind my right shoulder.

  I'd heard him coming. Maybe I should have warned her, but he deserved to hear the hero worship in her voice. He wasn't the only one in the hall, but the wolves, who'd all followed him up, were keeping out of Jesse's sight.

  Gabriel gave me an ice pack and watched Jesse duck behind the washcloth to hide her blush. His face was set. "I could have caught up to them, but I wasn't sure how badly hurt Jesse was. Cowards—" He started to spit, then realized where he was and restrained himself. "Takes a pair of real macho men to pick on a girl half their size."

  He looked at me. "On the way home, Jesse said that she thought she'd been set up. Those girls she was with, one of them, the girl with the car, has a thing for one of the boys. And the boys knew where to wait for her. There aren't many places you could beat someone up without people seeing them. They'd pulled her behind one of those big dumpsters. Someone put a lot of planning into this."

  Finley High is a small school.

  "Do you want to transfer to Kennewick High?" I asked her, knowing that her father was listening from the bedroom. I couldn't hear him, but I could feel his intent and see it in the stiff postures of the wolves. If we weren't very careful, the whole pack would be after those stupid boys.

  "Gabriel goes to Kennewick, and I know he has a lot of friends who will watch out for you. Or you could go to Richland, where Aurielle teaches." Aurielle was another of Adam's three female wolves, Darryl's mate, and a high school chemistry teacher.

  Jesse whipped the washcloth off her face and gave me a look that reminded me that she was her father's daughter. "I wouldn't give them the satisfaction," she said coldly. "But they won't take me by surprise again. I fought like a girl because I couldn't believe they were really going to hit me. I won't make that mistake again either."

  "You'll have to start practicing aikido again, then," said Adam, his voice as quiet and calm as if he hadn't just thrown a hissy fit a few minutes ago. "You're three years out of practice, and if you are only half their weight, you'll have to do better than that."

  He walked out of his bedroom, a dark blue washcloth in his hand. If his eyes had been darker, I'd have bought the calm facade. He'd managed somehow to stuff all that anger and Alpha energy down and out of sight. But I'd believe the cold yellow eyes before I believed the quiet voice. He handed me the washcloth, but his gaze was on Jesse.

  "Yes," she said with grim determination.

  "She hurt them," Gabriel said. "One of them had a bloody nose and the other was holding on to his side while he ran off." He gave her an assessing look, which I was glad Adam didn't see. "I bet they're more hurt than she is."

  Darryl cleared his throat, and when Adam looked at him, he said, "Send her with an escort to and from school." Jesse was a general favorite. If Adam hadn't been so enraged, there would have been a lot more growls from the wolves. Darryl's eyes were lighter than they usually were, too. The gold was eerie in his dark face.

  "Send her with a werewolf," I suggested, "in wolf form. For the first few days he can wait for her in front of the school, somewhere very visible."

  "No," said Jesse. "I won't be a freak show."

  Adam raised an eyebrow. "You'll do as you're told."

  "It's a territorial thing," I told Jesse. "Even mundane people play those stupid games. They tried a power play and your father cannot just let it go. If he does, the harassment will get worse—until someone dies." That's what all the werewolf politics and posturing that I complained about so much really did, kept people alive.

  "You should call the police and the school and warn them," said Honey. "So no one gets hurt."

  "Do a show and tell," suggested Gabriel. "Call Jesse's biology teacher—or aren't you taking a course in Current Affairs? That would be better. You can take your class out and give them an up-close and personal with a werewolf. Same effect but less embarrassing for Jesse."

  Adam smiled, showing lots of teeth. "I like that."

  Jesse brightened a little. "Maybe I can get extra credit."

  "The school will never go for it," Darryl said. "The liability is too great if something happened."

  "I'll check into it," Adam said.

  Jesse was a little pale, but she wasn't seriously injured. A hot shower would help with the soreness—and she needed to shower before her father calmed down enough to realize that she didn't need to tell him who had attacked her. If I could get their scent, so could he.

  I made a dismissive gesture at the whole lot of them, Gabriel, Adam, and werewolves. "Go downstairs and work it out," I told them. "I want to get a better look at some of Jesse's bruises so I can make sure that she doesn't need Samuel to come check her out."

  I took Jesse by the hand. "We'll use Adam's bathroom…" I couldn't actually remember if he had a bathroom, but I couldn't imagine that this house didn't have a master bedroom suite, and besides, he'd come out of it with a washcloth. "Since Adam has chosen to remodel this one." Sure my tone was a little snide—but if he was irritated with me, he wasn't going to be thinking about finding Jesse's assailants.

  Jesse followed me through the crowded hallway and into Adam's bedroom. There was an open door on the far side that could only be a bathroom. I tugged her into it and shut the door.

  Then I whispered, very, very quietly, "You need to shower and get rid of their scent before your father thinks of it—if he already hasn't."

  Her eyes widened. "Clothes?" she mouthed.

  "Everything," I said.

  She gave her tennis shoes a rueful glance, but turned on the shower and stepped into the big stall, shoes, clothes, and all.

  "I'll go get clean clothes," I told her.
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  Adam met me at the hall doorway. He jerked his chin toward the bathroom, where anyone could clearly hear that someone was showering. "Scent," he said.

  "Her clothes were very dirty," I told him a little smugly. "Even her shoes."

  "Sh—" He bit it off before he could complete the word. Adam was a little older than he looked. He'd been raised in the fifties, when a man didn't swear in front of women. "Shoot," he said, the word obviously not giving him the satisfaction to be gotten out of cruder terms.

  "Cheeses crusty, got all musty, got damp on the stone of a peach," I agreed. He looked blank, so I repeated it with proper emphasis. "ChEEZ-zes crusty. Got Al-musty. Got DAMp on the StoneofapeaCH. My foster father used to say those around me all the time. He was an old-fashioned sort of wolf, too. He especially liked the Stoneofapeach. 'Stoneofapeach, Mercedes. You don't have the sense God gave little apples. "

  Adam closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the door frame.

  "Gonna be expensive if you break another wall," I offered helpfully.

  He opened his eyes and looked at me.

  I threw up my hands. "Fine. You want to support the Carpenters' Union, that's your business. Now move, I told Jesse I'd be back with clothes."

  He stepped back with exaggerated courtesy. But when I walked past him, he swatted my rump. Hard enough to sting.

  "You need to be more careful," he growled. "Keep interfering in my business and you might get hurt."

  I said sweetly as I continued to Jesse's room, "The last man who swatted me like that is rotting in his grave."

  "I have no doubt of it." His voice was more satisfied than contrite.

  I turned to face him, yellow eyes and all.

  "I'm thinking of picking up a parts car for the Syncro. I have plenty of room in the field."

  Someone listening in might have thought my last comment was off topic, but Adam knew better. I'd been punishing him with my Rabbit parts car for several years. Clearly visible from his bedroom window, it now sat on three tires and had various pieces missing. The graffiti was Jesse's suggestion.

  If Adam hadn't been as uptight, it wouldn't have worked—but he was one of those "everything in its place and a place for everything" kind of people. It bothered him—a lot.

  Adam grinned briefly in appreciation, then his face sobered. "Tell me you, at least, had the brains to catch their scent."

  I raised an eyebrow. "Why would I do that? Then instead of harassing Jesse, you'd be tormenting me."

  One of them had been a stranger to me, but the other…there was something about his scent that was ringing a bell, but I'd wait until I was out of here before I tried to work it out.

  He gave a bark of fierce laughter.

  "Liar," he said.

  He took two quick steps forward, wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, and held me for his kiss. I hadn't expected it—not while he was still so close to changing. I'm sure that's why I didn't pull out of his hold.

  The first touch of his lips was soft, tentative, asking where his hands had demanded. The man was diabolical. I could have resisted force, but the question of his kiss was an entirely different matter.

  I leaned into him because he asked with the light touch and the gentle withdrawal of his lips that begged me to follow where he led. The heat of his body, welcome in the overcooled house, rewarded me as I leaned closer to him, as did the hard planes of his body, so I was drawn to press even tighter against him.

  He danced like that, too. Leading instead of pulling. It had to have been deliberate, something he worked at, because he was as dominant as they came—Alphas are. But Adam was more than just dominant: he was smart, too. And he didn't play fair.

  Which is how he ended up against the wall with me plastered all over him when someone…Darryl, quietly cleared his throat.

  I jerked free and hopped back to the middle of the hallway. "I'll just get Jesse's clothes now," I told the carpet on the floor and then took my red face into Jesse's room and shut the door. I didn't mind getting caught kissing, but that had been a lot more carnal than a kiss.

  Sometimes good hearing isn't a blessing.

  "Sorry," Darryl said, though his voice carried more amusement than apology.

  "I bet," growled Adam. "Damn it. This has got to stop."

  Darryl gave a full-throated laugh that lasted quite a while. I'd never heard him laugh like that. Darryl was pretty uptight usually.

  "Sorry," he said again, sounding more apologetic this time. "Looked to me like you'd rather it not stop."

  "Yeah." Adam sounded suddenly tired. "I should have gone after her a long time ago. But after Christy got through with me, I wasn't sure I wanted another woman ever. And Mercy is more gun-shy than I ever was." Christy was his ex-wife.

  "Then Samuel came to compete for the prize," Darryl said.

  "I am not a prize," I muttered.

  I knew they both heard me, but all he said was, "Samuel has always been the competition. I prefer him here, so at least I'm competing with a flesh-and-blood man, and not a memory."

  "If you're going to talk about me behind my back," I told Adam, "at least do it where I can't hear you."

  They must have followed my request because I didn't hear any more of their conversation. The shower was still going, so I sat down in the middle of Jesse's room—pulled a bottle of nail polish out from under one hip—and then took the opportunity to pull myself together. Adam was right; this had gone on too long.

  Samuel had been behaving himself like an angel, for the most part—and Adam had been likewise. But it seemed to me that Adam had been more restless than usual and his temper more uncertain.

  That was troubling news because Adam had a hot temper, worse even than most werewolves. Otherwise, Samuel had told me, the Marrok would have used Adam more heavily as one of the spokesmen for the werewolves. He had the looks and the speaking abilities for it. Adam had attracted some attention from the press anyway because he was doing some consulting and negotiating in Washington, D.C. His control was very, very good, but when he lost it, he went berserk and the Marrok wouldn't risk it.

  I was pretty sure that Adam would have exploded over Jesse's bruises anyway—but maybe he'd have regained his control better if he hadn't already been on edge.

  Jesse's door opened and Honey came in, shutting the door behind her. Honey was one of those people who can make me feel grubby, even when I'm wearing a perfectly presentable T-shirt. She could have been a recruitment poster model for the trophy wife. She intimidated me in an entirely different way than the werewolves usually did, and it had taken me a long time to get over it.

  She stepped gingerly over the usual teenager mess that Jesse had scattered on her floor—Jesse's room looked even worse than mine usually did, which made it pretty bad.

  "You've got to do something, Mercedes," she told me softly. As long as the rest of the pack was downstairs, they wouldn't hear us. "The whole pack is restless and short-tempered—and Adam almost lost it today. Pick someone, Adam or Samuel, it doesn't matter. But you have to do it soon." She hesitated. "When Adam declared you his mate—"

  For my safety, he said, and he was probably right. Timber wolves will kill a coyote in their territory—and werewolves are every bit as territorial as their smaller brethren.

  "He didn't ask me," I interrupted her, with heat. "I wasn't there and I didn't find out about it until it was done. It wasn't my fault."

  She shook her mane of honey-colored hair and crouched down beside me. If she could have seen the floor, I think she'd have been sitting like I was, because she was technically lower in the pack (thanks to Adam declaring me his mate), but she was too fastidious to sit on a pile of dirty clothes.

  "I'm not saying it is anyone's fault," she said. "Fault doesn't change what is. We can all feel it, the weakness in the pack. It is allowed for you to refuse him absolutely, and then things will return to normal. Or accept him, and things will change another way, a better way. But until then…" She shrugged.


  It was easy, even for someone like me who was around them all the time, to forget that there was more to the magic of the werewolves than their change. I think it's because the change was so spectacular—and the rest of the magic is the pack's business and affects no one else. I didn't consider myself pack—and until Adam had made his claim, no one else had either.

  My foster father told me once that he was always aware on some level of all the other pack members. They knew when one of their own was in distress; they knew when one died. When my foster father committed suicide, it took a while for them to find the body, but they'd all known when to go looking. I'd seen Adam call his pack to him with more than the sound of his voice and had seen them heal him of silver damage that should have killed him.

  I hadn't realized that there might be more to Adam declaring me his mate than the simple act until I'd been able to help Warren control his wolf when he was too hurt to do it himself. I'd been grateful, but I hadn't looked at it any closer.

  I was getting a headache; dread sometimes does that to me. "Tell me that again and be clear, please."

  "When he declared you his mate, he offered you an invitation to join us. He opened a place for you that you have not filled. That opening is a weakness. Adam mostly keeps it from us, but he only does it by absorbing all of the effects himself. His wolf knows there is a weakness, a place where harm might come to us, and it leaves him on alert, on edge, all the time. We can feel that, and respond to it." She gave me a tight smile. "That's why I was so unpleasant to you when he sent me to play bodyguard against the vampires. I thought you were playing games and leaving us to pay the price."

  No. No game playing. Just a lot of panicking. Whomever I chose in the end, Adam or Samuel, I'd lose the other one—and that was more than I could bear.

  "All of us depend upon our Alpha to help us live among the humans," Honey said. "Some of Adam's wolves have human women as mates. It is his willpower that allows us to control ourselves, particularly as the moon nears her zenith."