Scout: Reckless Desires (Norseton Wolves #7)

by Holley Trent

  He didn’t imagine he’d be much different. He’d be able to find Petra no matter where she was.

  Even if she left.

  ___

  Petra had barely gotten herself showered, dressed, and out onto her doormat before Adam swooped in from out of nowhere and slung an arm over her shoulder.

  She yipped and clutched her chest. “Make some noise, dude. I’ve got brain issues. Not nice to sneak up.”

  “Come on, lady,” he said with a laugh. “Your ears are better than that, aren’t they?”

  “I guess I was thinking too loud to hear you.” She swallowed hard and shoved her new house keys into her pocket.

  Being singled out by an alpha was rarely a good thing in her experience, and from what she was gathering, she was in a pack full of them.

  “Just checking in. Haven’t heard from Paul this morning. I was gonna send my wife over to see how you were, but then you came out. Where ya heading?”

  “Um. Into Norseton, I guess. Wanted to talk to a lady named Lora. I mean—” She cringed. “If that’s okay. Paul said she was always looking for people. You didn’t have something else you wanted me to do, did you? Because if—”

  “Hey,” he interjected. “It’s all right. No skin off my teeth whether you find a gig through me or if you let Lora place you somewhere. Either way, your pay would probably be coming from the same source.”

  “Oh.”

  “Am I to assume you’re medically cleared to work?” He started her toward the path.

  “Uh—I dunno about medical clearance. I’m not sure what’s going on with that.”

  “Paul didn’t say anything specific?”

  Petra scoffed. “Said I might not be able to drive again. And that I needed further testing.”

  “Well, maybe that won’t matter too much. Won’t hurt to see what Lora has to say.”

  “Cool. So, were you heading into town, too?”

  “Yep. Guard duty.”

  “I see. Have you, possibly, seen my brother in the past couple of days? Could he be sleeping somewhere else? He’s never disappeared before without telling me where he was going.”

  “But he has disappeared before?”

  Petra shrugged. “He gets visions sometimes and goes to investigate them, but he always tells me he’s doing that. I tried calling him, but he’s not answering his phone.”

  “Visions?”

  Petra’s step faltered, but Adam held her up and got her back on balance. Just that quickly, she’d forgotten that saying too much to an alpha could be the cause of her and Arnold’s very next pack dismissal. Adam was so laidback and friendly that she kept forgetting how dangerous he actually could be.

  She swallowed hard and got moving again, hoping the motion would distract him away from the conversational direction. “Nothing serious. Doesn’t even happen all that often. You don’t need to worry about him.”

  “I wasn’t worried.” He stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets and kept up with her manic pace easily with his much-longer legs. The man had to be nearly sixty given his son’s thirty-plus years, but he sure as hell didn’t look his age. Other than the bit of gray shot through his hair and the occasional deepening of the creases on his face when he grinned or squinted, he looked like could have passed for forty-something.

  Wolves always did age well, though.

  “He’s not dangerous,” she said.

  “I never said he was. I was just curious. Wondering how well he has the ability under control. Most of the wolves we take in here don’t really start to come into their power until they push themselves past their comfort zones. That’s easier to do when you trust the folks around you. You don’t have to be ashamed if you don’t get things right when you first try. No one’s gonna tease you for it.”

  She furrowed her brow.

  He snorted. “I lied. Colt would, but don’t take anything he says personally. He teases everyone.”

  “Everyone here has some sort of weird ability?” Petra didn’t risk looking at him. She kept her gaze forward and her feet slapping the trail toward town, figuring if she were casual and seemed aloof about the magic crap, he wouldn’t push her too much about Arnold…or herself.

  Adam grunted. “Varying degrees of weirdness, I guess. You’ve already sampled a bit of the Modesto sisters’ weirdness. That’s a family trait of theirs. Their mother and grandmother have it, too. I guess they evolved the ability to keep the men in the pack from going berserk.”

  “That doesn’t bother you?”

  “Nah. Why would it? Everyone here knows they have the ability, in different ways, and we all call on them to use that magic from time to time. Can’t sleep? Call a Modesto. Afraid you’re gonna fail your next firearm qualification test? Call a Modesto. Boyfriend got you angry enough to spit?”

  “Call a Modesto,” she finished for him in a whisper.

  “That’s right.” He gave her shoulder a playful cuff and chuckled. “You wouldn’t happen to need a Modesto for anything right about now, would you?”

  Yes. “I don’t know,” she lied. She was feeling unusually unsettled—incomplete, somehow—and she suspected Paul had something to do with that. “I might need one whenever Arnold shows back up and I’ll want to kick his ass for going off like that, though.”

  Adam let out a full belly laugh, the likes of which she’d never heard from a wolf of his stature. Every alpha she’d every encountered had always taken himself so seriously.

  Maybe he doesn’t feel like he has to. Norseton is a weird, weird place.

  “Nah,” he said. “The girls would probably tell you he’d deserve the ass-kicking. Anything else?”

  Petra raked her gaze over the back of the executive mansion looming in the near distance and wondered if potential new hires should go around to the front or use the back door.

  Probably the front.

  She took the leftward fork in the path at the juncture.

  “No,” she said to her alpha. “Nothing else.”

  “Really? Are you sure?”

  Does he know something I don’t? She smiled at him and shrugged. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

  He stopped there on the path and gave her a wave.

  She stopped, too.

  “Well. You know where to find me if you change your mind and wanna talk.”

  She couldn’t trust him. Not yet.

  “Or, you know. You could talk to my missus, if that makes you more comfortable. There’s not really a hierarchy around here. I may be the guy in charge of the wolves, technically, but I leave you all to do what you want, for the most part.”

  Why is he telling me this?

  “So, if you need anything or need help with something…” He gave a slow nod, likely for dramatic emphasis. “Let a guy know. I’m not psychic like some of you kids.”

  “I’m not psychic.”

  He wagged his finger at her and started toward the rightward path. “I said some of you. Your shtick seems to be abnormally accelerated healing, and I’d say that’s weird enough. Gods, woman. You shouldn’t even be walking right now.”

  “That’s what everyone keeps saying,” she called after him.

  “Must be true, then.”

  He disappeared between two buildings, and Petra stood, staring at nothing for a minute longer, just trying to get her wits about her.

  She needed some time to adapt to the way the Norseton pack operated, but she wasn’t going to let fear get in the way of finally belonging someplace. She and Arnold didn’t have to hide anymore, or run.

  “I hope that bastard isn’t running.”

  She gritted her teeth and trekked to the front door of the mansion. She’d started muttering to herself again about Arnold by the time she stepped into the lobby. There was a wolf at the security desk. She didn’t know him, but she knew he was a wolf, and one that felt like an alpha.

  Need to get used to that, too.

  He waved her forward. “Looking for someone? Mrs. Carbone, or one of the girls?”

 
“Um, no.” Petra sidled up to the desk and leaned her elbows onto the top. “Who are you?”

  “Darius.”

  She shook the hand he held out.

  His grip was strong, but not punishing. Most male wolves would have been eager to show off their power, both physically and psychically, but Darius didn’t seem so hung up on it. She read his energy as carefully controlled—like an extra belly he kept tucked into a girdle. The fact that he tried at all to rein the energy in earned him a few Kool-Aid points from her.

  “Petra,” she said, releasing his hand and noting the wedding band on the other. Most of the wolves were married, supposedly. She found the fact that they wore the jewelry at all to be both odd and stunning. None of the wolves she’d ever encountered before ending up in Norseton wore rings. Rings tended to get lost during a shapeshift, and they’d all figured, “Why bother?”

  Petra happened to like the tradition. Rings always said to her, I’m not ashamed to show that I’m taken.

  I wonder if the Viking would wear one.

  She snorted at herself and rolled her eyes. Getting a ring on him was the least of her concerns.

  Darius leaned back in his seat and swiveled it from side to side for a few beats. “You all right?”

  “Oh, don’t mind me,” she said. “I’m feeling a little silly right now. Lots of ridiculous junk cluttering my head.”

  “Sounds like a typical wolf to me.”

  “I don’t know anything about typical. Listen, no one’s expecting me, but I was wondering if Lora’s here and could talk to me. I figured if I’m gonna stick around, I should have a job. I’ve never had a steady job before. Arnold and me were always moving around too much. Longest jobs we had were doing seasonal farm work. Slept in the truck more often than not to save what little bit of money we had. Not sure why I’m telling you my life story, but anyway.”

  His grin was soft as he reached for the phone on the desk. “I know a little something about living on the road.” He stabbed in the extension to the phone. “It’s an okay life if that’s what you want, but I think most wolves need homes. Territories. You know?”

  She nodded, because she did know. She was going to carve out a little piece of Norseton for herself, whether Arnold showed his stupid butt up or not, and whether or not that freaking Viking decided to be nice.

  An icy chill darted down her spine, radiated through her torso, and seized up her heart for a few sluggish beats.

  She used to believe herself when she said she didn’t care if people liked her or if they wanted to move on, but Paul was different somehow. He was unbelievably frustrating, but he was hers. She just didn’t know what to do with him. She’d had no tutor for her predicament. None of the wolves would have understood, anyway.

  “Do you have a moment to come down?” Darius said into the phone. “I’ve got a pack member here who wants to talk to you about some work. I’d send her to Nixon, but I don’t think she’s cut out for security.”

  “Nope,” Petra muttered.

  Darius had barely hung up the phone before a woman stuck her head around the corner. She wore her black hair in a sleek bun, and her black mascara was perfectly winged out from her dark almond eyes. Exquisitely put together. Petra was already impressed.

  She tapped her Bluetooth earpiece and motioned Petra toward her.

  “Oh.” Petra stepped through the metal detector and waved goodbye to Darius. “You don’t look like much of a Viking,” Petra said to the lady.

  Lora had started them down a broad hallway quickly, giving Petra very little time to determine the purpose of each room, or if they were occupied.

  “No. I’m not Afótama,” Lora said. “I was adopted as a child from foster care. I have no idea who my birth parents are, only that they were probably mestizo.”

  “You don’t feel—”

  “What? Isolated? Too unique for my own good?” Lora chuckled and started them up a dim staircase that had been behind a door marked PRIVATE.

  “Yeah. Those things.”

  “Nah. I was very young when I was adopted and honestly, for the longest time, I didn’t know any better. The place is a lot less homogenous now than it was twenty-five years ago, though.”

  “You don’t have a problem with outsiders, then.”

  Lora opened the door at the top of the stairs and motioned for Petra to go through. “No. Of course, we have to be careful of who we welcome into our community, for reasons you may be able to guess. Our biggest concerns are about people who’d expose the Afótama for their weirdness—not people who don’t fit the Viking shade card.”

  “You’ve got enemies?”

  “Yes.” Lora herded her into a roomy office and gestured toward the sofa. “Some enemies live right here in the community, and others are elsewhere and yet to be exposed. That’s part of the wolfpack’s job—helping us figure out who those people are and keeping our leaders safe.”

  “I see.”

  “So.” Lora leaned her khaki-covered rear end against the front of her desk and braced her hands against the edge. “You’re looking for work?”

  “Well, I thought maybe you’d heard of something. I don’t really know what I have the skills to do, but I figured you’d be able to put two and two together better than I could. The folks in the pack were telling me, though, that you have a hard time recruiting folks for jobs here, and I wondered if that was something I could help you with.”

  Lora raised her chin and tapped it. “Have you done any recruiting?”

  “No, but if recruiting folks—teachers and doctors and whatnot—is complicated by the fact that you need folks to be a little weird or at least aware of the fact that folks like me exist, you can’t just send them an email and feel them out. You’ve gotta vet those folks in person and from a distance for a while. Maybe do some networking in witch covens until you find folks who have the skills you’re looking for.”

  Lora gave Petra an assessing nod. “That’d be a good way to go about it. Tell me more.”

  “I—”

  “Lora, did my brother—oh, hello.” Queen Tess, who’d poked her head into the room, stepped the rest of the way in and smiled at Petra.

  Then her smile fell away and her brow furrowed.

  Oh, hell.

  Petra’s stomach lurched. She was suddenly the center of attention, and for no good reason that she could discern.

  “Paul,” she said, pointing to Petra.

  Petra said nothing. Didn’t know what to say.

  “Paul. I’m gonna kick his ass.”

  “What’d he do?” Nadia called from somewhere nearby.

  “More like what didn’t he do,” the queen called over her shoulder.

  Nadia stepped into the room a moment later adjusting her gun holster and scanning each woman in turn before her gaze fell on Petra.

  “What?” Petra asked.

  “You can feel that, right?” Queen Tess asked her cousin.

  Nadia squinted at Petra and nodded slowly. “Uh-huh. I think so. Not quite melded or something. Touch her and see if that makes a difference.”

  “What are you talking about?” Petra hated feeling so damned out of the loop, and she got a sinking suspicion the ladies weren’t talking about mundane things.

  “Give her your hand,” Lora said. “Touch makes what they do easier.”

  Petra obediently, for once, held out her hand.

  Queen Tess squeezed her fingers ever so briefly, and then furrowed her brow. “It’s not done. Should have been stronger than that,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Please tell me what you’re talking about.”

  “Jeez.” The queen raked a hand through her mounds of dark curls and then let her lips sputter. Didn’t seem a very royal thing to do, but apparently nothing in Norseton was as expected.

  I need to stop assuming that things will be.

  “Me and a couple other folks in my close family are somewhat uniquely equipped to discern degrees of relationships,” the queen said. “Whenever som
eone takes a partner, our web—wait. Do you know about our web?”

  “In vague terms.”

  “Okay, good. Well, the connections on the web shift. I don’t know everyone in the clan intimately well, but Paul is connected to people I frequently associate with. I know what the web around him is supposed to look like.”

  “It’s not right?”

  “Not quite, which is why I’m annoyed. He didn’t do what he needed to do.”

  “What was he supposed to do?”

  The queen gave her head a slight shake. “That’s different for every couple. But when we commit to our partners, we merge with them in a way, so there should be a blur on the web where you are.”

  “I’d be overlapping him.”

  Nadia snapped her fingers and leaned against the desk beside Lora. “That’s exactly right. Right now, you’re kinda just hovering around him, and I don’t think that’s supposed to happen, even if you are a werewolf.”

  “He’s my mate. I’m supposed to be overlapping him.”

  The queen paced for a few beats and nodded. “Yeah. That’s why I’m a little annoyed right now. He’s holding out for some reason, and I can’t speculate on why. I can’t think of a single person in this clan who’d run from a gods-blessed match.”

  “So he is running.” Petra’s heart did that painful stutter it did earlier when she’d tried to peel herself off of Paul. She put her hand over her chest. Suddenly, she wanted to barf.

  “Hey.” Queen Tess gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I don’t know what he’s doing. I could certainly have a talk with him, but he’s never been the kind of man who’d be so easily cowed into doing things. He’s unflappable in that doctor sort of way.”

  “Do you think he doesn’t want me?”

  “I’m not trying to get into his head, Petra. I have a hard enough time sorting out where all the tiny disturbances in the web are coming from and helping my grandmother troubleshoot them. For instance, right now, there’s some weird buzz on the fringes of the web, and I need to go out to Nevada to see if someone in my chieftain’s network has gotten him or herself into trouble.” She looked at Lora. “Can you find our pilot and tell him I’m headed toward the airport with Nadia? He’s got to get his flight plan recorded.”