To Save A Mate (A Western Shapeshifter Werewolf Romance): Somewhere, TX (VonBrandt Family Book 1)

by Krystal Shannan

  "Just please take me home." It was all too much right now. If she couldn't be dead, she just wanted to sleep.

  "Of course. Do you need to get anything from your room in the KAS house?"

  "Just my purse, but I don't need it right now. I just want to lay down." She took a step to the side, breaking contact with his hand. His eyes widened, and his gaze fell to the floor.

  "I'll send Noah to get it later. Don't worry about it." He moved back and gestured to the door, not attempting to touch her again.

  They left his house, and she climbed into the passenger seat of his truck. He closed the door behind her before jogging around and getting in on his side. The truck roared to life, and within a few minutes he was weaving in and out of her parents’ neighborhood like he knew exactly where he was going.

  “Why do you know where my house is?”

  “I looked it up online. Your parents are listed.”

  “Oh.”

  “I promise I'm not a stalker,” he said, chuckling and flashing her a quick grin. “Are your parents home?”

  “No. They ...” How do you tell a stranger you just found out your parents were killed? “They aren't home,” she whispered as he pulled up to the curb in front of the home she'd grown up in - a one-story ranch style, yellow brick, cream colored trim, black roof. There were privets growing close to the front wall and around both sides, neatly trimmed and blooming beautifully with tiny white flowers. The Bermuda grass lawn was a little long. Normally, Dad would probably be mowing it right now, and mom would be in her rocker right by the front door, sipping on a glass of her freshly brewed sweet tea.

  Her vision clouded, and she buried her face in her hands as hot tears poured down her cheeks. This wasn't going to work. She couldn't do this. But she couldn't go back to her room at KAS either. God, he is just sitting there; probably wishing I would just get out of his truck.

  Without a warning her door opened, and he was pulling her into his arms. I didn't even hear him get out? It didn't matter. He was holding her, hugging her. God, she needed a hug. She just wished it was her mom and dad instead of Luke VonBrandt.

  "I'm going to take care of you, Kara," he murmured into her ear as he walked with her to the door. "I need you to tell me how to get in without breaking a window."

  She didn't want him to take care of her. She just wanted to be left alone. At the same time, she didn't want to let go of him either. It was a complete brain clusterfuck. Maybe she didn't even know what she wanted.

  “The turtle has a key,” she said, trying to stifle a sob and tightening her hold around his neck so he could put her legs down.

  He complied. She bent to retrieve the turtle from beside her mom's rocker and held out the key. Luke took it, opened the front door and ushered her inside.

  Familiar hardwood floors, tan walls, and the smell of leather furniture greeted her senses. The couch and love seat were new, along with the matching recliners. Just another reminder of something her parents had left behind.

  She kicked off her canvas sneakers by the door and started walking for the hallway to her right. “You can leave. I'll be fine.”

  His boots thumped on the floor behind her. Damn. Just take a hint. I just want to be left alone to cry. She whirled to face him and sucked in a breath as he halted quickly, but still nearly slammed straight into her. His arms encircled her shoulders to steady her, and she began to shake.

  Her voice rose to a high-pitched wail. “Just leave.” Tears started gushing again. Fuck it, just leave me alone. “Please, go!” She shoved his arms away and slipped into her room, closing the door before he could follow or speak.

  CHAPTER THREE

  He stood silently outside her door for a few minutes before retreating to the living room. The western decor in her home reminded him of that in his own parents’ home. His mother loved leather furniture and western art. He ran his fingers over the top of a table-top bronzed sculpture of a mustang and rider. The depicted scene made him think of the early morning rides he used to take with Noah when they were in high school.

  There was nothing like being out on the prairie at sunrise - seeing the way the sun melted away the darkness, bursting onto the horizon in a kaleidoscope of oranges, reds, and yellows. He didn't get to ride much during the school year, but once a month, necessity always made sure he got to see a sunrise. The moment when the colors exploded onto the sky was the same moment the magick released him from his animal form.

  He eyed the front door. She’d told him to leave, but he couldn't do it. After all this time, he had a chance with her. For a few moments she’d let him comfort her, but then shut him out again. The bedroom door in his face had been a painful reminder that he had a long way to go to earn her trust.

  His pocket buzzed. Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the screen and held it up to his face. "What's up, Noah?"

  "Hey bro, her phone rang. She left it in our room with her clothes. So I answered it."

  His brother's voice was unusually lifeless, and he was stalling. Noah never stalled; he'd been born telling it how it was since he was baby. Kind, but always honest and upfront.

  "Noah."

  “It was Houston PD. They were letting her know the remains of her parents were being released, and they wanted to know where to send them. Did she tell you her parents were dead?”

  Goddess! Oh, fuck. Luke sank onto the cushion of the closest couch and hung his head. “No.”

  “No wonder she's so messed up, Luke. Man, I can't imagine getting that call and then finding out she was dating a jack-of-all-jills in the same night.”

  “Neither can I.” He glanced toward the dark hallway, his heart breaking for the pain she was feeling. Her physical pain was fading as his essence worked quickly to heal her wounds from the accident, but these emotional wounds wouldn't fade nearly as fast. If ever. He couldn't fathom losing his mom or dad. Short of beheading, there wasn't much from which they couldn't heal. Werewolves lived a long, healthy life until their essence faded at their hundredth birthday.

  “I gave them mom's number and called her. I tried not to give away anything to her, but she's suspicious. You know mom. Sorry, I didn't know what else to do.”

  Yes, he knew his mom. Nothing got past Tonya VonBrandt. “It's not like I could hide it anyway, Noah. It's fine.”

  “How is she?”

  “Crying alone in her room. She tried to get me to leave, but I'm concerned, especially now that I know about her parents.”

  “You don't think she'll do anything, do you?”

  “I don't think so, but I'm not taking any chances. I can't get a read on her emotions because... well...” The bond wouldn't be complete until he and Kara slept together, but until then he at least could feel anything she might try physically. The idea of her trying to hurt or even possibly kill herself made him sick. At least now he understood the dark cloud of depression and volatile emotional status that would make her run blindly in front of a vehicle. A cheating boyfriend was bad, but that's not what was truly upsetting her world. Vincent was just an extra piece of dog shit on top of the cow patty life had served up.

  “Yeah, man. I get the idea. No leaving Kara alone. Comprende, bro. I'll stop by Pops’ in a few hours and bring you some food and her phone and keys.”

  “Can you get into her room at KAS and get her purse? She said that was the only thing she might need from there.”

  “Will do. Later.”

  Luke shoved his phone back in his jeans pocket, got up, and walked to her bedroom door. He tried the handle and breathed a sigh of relief when it turned and the door pushed open.

  The walls were a soft butter yellow, and there were sheets of country-western musical scores in frames decorating her walls. She had collected arrangements from George Strait and Dolly Parton to Blake Shelton and Miranda Lambert. Pictures of her in choir throughout high school filled in the gaps. She had a beautiful voice, but got terrible stage fright. Karaoke at Everyday Joe's wasn't the same without a number from Kara. The wh
ole town loved her, but the only time they could get her to perform was after she'd downed a few drinks and been literally pushed onto the stage.

  She was the first person to laugh or offer a smile to a stranger. She didn't deserve to go through this; to have her heart broken and then crushed at the same time.

  Tiny sobs came from beneath a mountain of white blankets and pillows.

  "Kara," he said her name softly, moving to kneel beside the bed.

  "Go away." Her voice was hoarse from the crying.

  "No."

  The bed moved and a pillow flew at his face. He batted it away and met her angry gaze.

  "I don't want you here."

  "Well, too bad. You've got me." Luke knelt to the floor and rested his elbows on the mattress. "In fact, you've got my whole family. Noah took a call on your phone from the Houston PD a few minutes ago."

  "Shit!" The covers flew off the bed and she sat straight up in the center. "I left it at your frat house."

  "It's okay. Noah is bringing it by. He's on his way." Luke paused, unsure of how to proceed. "He gave them our mother's number to call and help make arrangements to get them home."

  She turned to face him slowly, her blue eyes burning through to his soul like fiery darts from hell. "How dare you involve your mother in my personal business? I barely even know you!"

  "You know what!" He stood, surprised at her angry outburst. That was not the reaction he'd expected. Maybe a thank you, but definitely not a "fuck you".

  He backed toward the bedroom door, shaking his head. "You almost died in my arms last night. So pardon me for thinking you might need a little help," he continued, shouldering the responsibility for the choice to involve his family. To involve magick. In the end, all roads would lead back to him anyway. Might as well peel the bandaid off fast and get it over with.

  "I feel like I almost died!" She screamed, crawling to the edge of the bed. She stood next to him, her eyes red from crying, her skin wrinkled from the sheets. "So why am I alive? And why the hell do I have the same crazy tattoos on my wrists that you have?"

  "Noticed that, huh?" The forest green tattoos encircling her wrists were beautiful against her creamy white skin, but very obvious. It wasn't something she'd ever be able to hide.

  She held up a hand, flipping him the bird at the same time. "They're hard to miss!" Stepping forward, she surprised him again with a forceful shove from both her palms flat on his chest. "What did you do to me?"

  "I saved your life," he exclaimed, taking a step back to recover his balance. His mind was spinning. What did he say? Not say? How much should he explain?

  "How? I can't find a single scratch on me, and yet my clothes were soaked down the back with my blood. And now I have weird Celtic-looking knot tattoos curling around my wrists. What in the bloody hell is going on?"

  "Would you believe me if I said it was magick?"

  She stopped in her tracks, mouth falling open. Then she giggled. It was a strange, somewhat crazy giggle, but a laugh all the same. It grew into a full-blown side-splitting roll.

  Luke just stood and waited. Her emotions were a roller-coaster and he'd just sent her sailing over another drop off with the magick bombshell. That is, if she even believed him.

  ***

  Kara laughed until her face hurt, but Luke just stood calmly —staring. It was unnerving. She gasped through a couple more chuckles and sat down on the edge of her mattress. Magick? She looked at him again. The crazy man was serious. She could see it in his eyes. Not even a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his kissable lips.

  Why am I thinking about kissing Luke VonBrandt? I just found out Vincent was cheating on me. I barely know this guy.

  The thoughts didn't stray far. In fact she found herself imagining what Luke's body looked like underneath his clothes. It wasn't hard, since she'd had a quick peek at absolutely everything only a few hours ago. That had to be why she was obsessed with thinking about kissing him. Seeing a hot guy naked would make any girl think about it. Right?

  Except that she should be thinking about her parents and everything she needed to do for them. She didn't even know where they wanted to be buried, or how. Where the money to pay for everything would come from. She'd never even talked to her mother about what to do if something happened.

  Her whole world had collapsed on itself in one night.

  Now she had one of the most eligible Greek Row bachelors, in her house, trying to help her, and she was being an absolute bitch with a capital 'B'. She'd known Luke for years. They'd gone to school together since they were in kindergarten. He didn't deserve this.

  "I'm sorry," she murmured, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks again like water on a windshield. "I'm just so —" It didn't matter. She did need the help. And if he and his family were offering, she'd be a fool not to accept it.

  He moved hesitantly, probably concerned she'd verbally or physically attack him again. A few more steps brought him to the bedside and he sat down next to her, cautiously wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

  She leaned into his warm body and continued to sob. When the police had called the first time, she'd been alone. No one was around. And then, after seeing Vincent and Samantha together, the last few remaining brain cells in her head had ceased all sane thought processing.

  "It's okay, Kara. I know it's a little outside of the norm. Plus, you've got to be exhausted."

  Exhausted didn't even begin to describe how she felt. Besides feeling like she’d been run over by a truck - which she had - everything felt off.

  "You seriously expect me to believe that a magick spell is healing me from getting hit by your truck?"

  Luke sighed and squeezed her a little tighter. "Not just a spell. You are connected to me, to my essence... permanently. That's why we both have the bond marks now."

  "Bond marks? The tattoos?"

  He grunted an affirmation.

  She grabbed his free hand and pulled it across his lap toward hers. Then put her wrist up next to his. The marks were identical. The same emerald green and even the knots were in the same places. His were thicker than hers, but the design was exactly the same.

  "So when you said the spell the marks just appeared?"

  "They slowly appeared, but yes," he replied.

  "Who are you?"

  He chuckled, his laughter sending relaxing vibes through her tense and anxious body. "Luke VonBrandt."

  Kara pulled away from his arm and shoved him, nearly pushing him off the edge of the bed. "Shit! Sorry, I didn't mean to push that hard."

  He smiled, shaking his head. "It's fine."

  "So really... who are you?"

  "It would be better to wait a little while to explain things. Just know that I will always love, protect, and care for you, no matter what you choose after everything is said and done."

  She scooted away from him, toward her padded floral print headboard. Love? Protect? Care for? Those words sounded like some sort of marriage proposal.

  A glint of hurt flashed in his bright blue eyes. A second later it was gone. But she'd seen it. Her retreat had hurt his feelings as much as his statement had shocked and surprised her.

  He stood from her bed and walked to the doorway. "I'll be right back. Noah's here with some food." He didn't look back. Just disappeared from sight.

  Sure enough, a few moments later she heard Noah's voice in the entryway. How had he known Noah was here? She hadn't heard a car door or a knock on the door. His phone hadn't buzzed either.

  "This is ridiculous." She wiped her face and took a deep breath. Her gaze fell on the marks on her wrists again, reminding her that even though she wanted this crazy story to be explained another way, there were too many things that just didn't add up to normal.

  She crawled to the edge of her bed and stood again. Her mom and dad would be pissed that she was leaving guests alone in the house. A tiny smile tugged at her lips. She could hear her mother talking now, telling her to make sure they were offered a drink or something to ea
t, but a moment later, instead of a smile, more tears were trailing down her cheeks.

  Squaring her shoulders and wiping the fresh tears from her face, she left her room and walked slowly down the hall. Noah and Luke fell silent as she approached. Her black hobo purse hung from Noah's right hand, meaning he had gone to her sorority room.

  "How did you get in?" She pointed to the purse.

  He lifted it out, and she took it from his hand. "I had your keys."

  "No one said anything?"

  "They did."

  She raised her eyebrows in surprise. His shoving his way through a pack of KAS sisters would've been quite the spectacle. "Thank you." She hugged the purse to her chest and then set it gently on the entry table.

  "Anytime." He lifted the bag in his left hand, displaying the Pops BBQ name on the side. "Brought lunch, too. Thought you might be hungry since you didn't get to eat the kolaches from earlier.

  The sweet scent of honey BBQ sauce drifted to her nose, and her stomach growled. She hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday. It was barely eleven, but she wouldn't hold that against the BBQ.

  "Thanks, Noah," Luke said before she could. He turned to her next. "Why don't you go sit down and let us fix you a plate?"

  Both boys herded her toward the kitchen nook and refused to leave her side until she'd agreed to sit and let them fix her lunch.

  She watched, amused, as they hunted through cabinets for dishes and utensils they needed. When she offered to get up and show them where things were they both snapped "no" in synchrony.

  Within a few moments they were all three seated at the round kitchen table with a bounty of ribs, brisket, sliced turkey, link sausage, sweet creamed corn, rolls, cut green beans, and a bowl of tossed salad. It looked like enough to feed ten people, but as the guys dug in, she decided maybe it was just enough. Knowing what the VonBrandt's looked like underneath their wranglers and loose t-shirts, she wondered how they could look the way they did and eat the way they were eating. She couldn't blame them, though; their Pops made the best BBQ in town.