by MJ Compton
Luke didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “I guess I’m a bit of a scat eater.”
It was Tokarz’s turn to be silent.
“It was ugly,” Luke admitted. “I said some stuff to her I never should have said. But I was—”
“Crazy. That’s what happens when you’re mated.”
Oh, he was so tired of explaining that he hadn’t marked Abby. That he hadn’t offered her berries. That he hadn’t done any of the traditional mating things except stick his cock in her. He let Tokarz’s comment pass.
“I smashed my laptop on the floor. And she was pissed at me, too, because I took pictures of the bruises on her stomach.”
“What bruises on her stomach?”
Luke sighed. He hated spilling everything, but Tokarz needed to know. Luke needed the pack’s help to keep Abby and her sister safe, and the price for that was telling Tokarz the whole truth. “Gary punched her in the stomach, trying to make her miscarry. From the bruising, I’d say repeatedly.”
“Ancient Ones.”
“Yeah. Well, I was documenting the bruising on her face and wanted to take pictures of her belly. You know. In case I did get to kill him, I wanted to prove I had motivation. That’s not only Abby’s baby. It’s mine, too.”
“Of course.”
“But she told me—” Luke had to stop. Remembering everything that had transpired was getting to him, and not in a good way. “She told me she didn’t like having her picture taken.” His voice cracked. Moisture gathered on his eyelashes. “So I waited until she was asleep, then took pictures. Macy set up my computer while I was gone, and Abby saw the photos. She was fit to be tied.” Luke shook his head. “It was all real ugly. So I confronted her, and that’s when she told me. About Gary threatening to sell Libby to the highest bidder if Abby didn’t pose without her clothes.”
Tokarz slammed on the brakes. The SUV nearly slid into the ditch. Tokarz opened his door and puked.
Luke knew the feeling.
After he scrubbed his face with his palm, Tokarz leaned back in his seat, but he didn’t put the SUV in drive. “So you went to Oak Moon to kill Gary.”
“Yep.”
“You told your grandfather to keep a close eye on Abby and to call your dad about Libby.”
“Yep.”
“You know, you could have come to me for help.”
I’m omega. What do omega mean to the pack?
Luke shrugged. “In the end, it didn’t matter. Killing Gary was my privilege and someone stole that from me. So now I get to kill his killer.”
“That’s why you wanted Jasper. How did you know the feds were on to Gary?”
“I didn’t, until Jasper blew his lid about the computer. Then I had to wonder. I played a hunch, and he’s as much of a chump as you and Restin have always claimed.”
“You sure you’re up to working on a federal task force?”
“Come on, Tokarz. Who better than me? I know my way around a computer, and I know my way around Internet porn sites. I’ve been using the FreeNets, DeepNets, and DeepWebs for years. Now it’s time for me to put that experience to work. Bonus is that I can work from home. I don’t need to leave Abby.”
“What made you change your mind about the porn?”
Luke hesitated again. “I always assumed those girls were posing voluntarily. It never occurred to me that some of them were being forced to do things. Coerced. Blackmailed. Until I saw Abby’s face as she told me what Gary threatened to do to her baby sister. It never occurred to me.”
“Good job, Omega.”
“Don’t call me that. My name is not Omega. Omega is my rank because of your grandfather’s injustice to my grandfather. I have no last name because your grandfather took away my grandfather’s name for doing what the Ancient Ones decreed. I am Luke. Son of Marcus. Grandson of Lucien, formerly a delta male of the Loup Garou pack.”
“Uppity for a delta has-been.”
“An omega wolf has nothing left to lose.”
Luke’s grandparents’ house was quiet when Tokarz pulled up. Werewolves roamed past at irregular intervals. The sun was sinking, tossing a lurid orange hue over the landscape.
Luke hopped out of the truck, and grabbed the guitar. “Thanks for the ride, Tokarz. I’ll be talking to you soon.” He didn’t wait to see what Tokarz did, but headed inside.
Granny was cooking. Granny was always cooking.
“Luke.” He found himself enveloped in a fragrant hug.
“Granny. Have you been taking care of my bride?”
Whoa. Where had that come from?
“Somebody has to,” Granny replied. “From what I can see, you’re not doing such a great job.”
Luke hefted the guitar. “That is about to change.”
“Leave her alone, if you get my drift.”
“Aw, Granny.” Luke winked. “I can’t play with my wife?”
She swatted his shoulder. “Nope, not if you don’t want to hurt that baby.”
Luke stooped to kiss the wrinkled cheek. “You’re the best, Granny.”
He gripped the guitar tighter. Squared his shoulders. Sauntered down the hall.
Abby was in bed, reading.
“Hey,” he said. This was more awkward than he’d envisioned. “I brought you a present.”
She set aside her book.
“It’s a Yamaha, with a narrow neck, like your old one. It’s the best I could do. I should have saved the other one.” He put the case on the bed, but Abby didn’t reach for it.
“Thank you.”
And that was it. No smile. No tears. No other words. Even her eyes were blank. A canvas, waiting for him to paint a reaction. He had a lot of ground to make up if they were going to make it through the next few months in any kind of civilized manner.
And she didn’t even know everything yet.
There wasn’t any point in telling Abby a thing, not about the werewolf stuff. She was full moon safe here—Granny was human, and even if she hadn’t been, older women, like pregnant women, couldn’t shift. It was a chromosome thing or something. Abby didn’t need any additional stress right now, at least according to Granny. Keeping that baby safe was Luke’s responsibility, which meant not stressing its mother. And after?
Well, Luke figured he and Abby would separate, divorce after the baby’s birth. His mom and Granny could raise the baby, and Abby would be free to get on with her songwriting career, so she’d never know the baby would turn into a hairy howler every full moon once it hit adolescence. Everything nice and neat in its own compartment.
His lack of sleep was catching up to him. He perched on the edge of the bed. His boots thunked to the floor. He dropped onto his back. Abby smelled nice. “Ancient Ones, I’m tired.” His eyelids drifted shut.
“What does that mean?”
“Hmm?”
“Ancient Ones. Your whole family says it all the time. What does it mean?”
“It’s our way of saying God, I guess.”
Abby shifted on the mattress.
“Whatcha doing?” he asked.
“Putting the guitar under the night stand. Are you sleeping here tonight?”
He couldn’t read her mood from either her tone or her scent. “Unless you don’t want me to. But I’d like to.”
“I don’t think we can—”
“Granny told me. That’s okay. I like holding you.” And he did. He sat up and pulled his T-shirt over his head and dropped it next to his boots. He had to stand to drop his jeans, but it was only for a moment.
In normal circumstances, he would be using the deep twilight to get ready for a night’s worth of action. But his circumstances were no longer normal. And tonight, he needed to sleep.
He crawled under the covers. Slid his arm around Abby and pul
led her close. Settled her head on his shoulder. His whole body responded to being so comfortable.
“Did you kill Gary?” She asked so softly, if he wasn’t a werewolf, he might have questioned his hearing.
She deserved answers. His sleep could wait. “Somebody beat me to it. But I destroyed his computer. Nothing from his hard drives is going to be retrievable. That’s why they kept me so long. Because I destroyed evidence. The feds were on to him. Investigating him. They’re real unhappy he’s dead.”
“But you would have killed him?”
“Any number of times. This wasn’t the first time I went to Oak Moon to kill him. He wasn’t home the time before last. But after what you told me? I would have waited for him. And it would have been a slow, painful, specifically tailored, bloody, agonizing death for him. And I would have laughed the whole time.” Which wasn’t true. Werewolves couldn’t laugh as beasts. “Does that bother you?”
“No.”
He squeezed her waist. “Do you really want to talk about this now? I’m kind of beat. Didn’t get much sleep in jail.”
“No. You sleep.”
She didn’t even sigh.
He wished he knew what she was thinking.
Gary was dead. Dead. The details of how or why didn’t matter to Abby. What did matter was he couldn’t hurt her or Libby again.
Abby watched Luke sleep. Thick, golden eyelashes rested on the tops of his cheeks. His dimples had gone into hiding.
He went to kill Gary for her. He’d destroyed Gary’s computer. For her. He’d spent a night in jail because he’d tried to avenge her. Abigail Grant.
She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had done anything for her.
She wished she had someone to talk to. But her high school friends were gone. They’d moved past Oak Moon, leaving behind only memories, one of which was poor Abby Grant. Sick mother. Weird sister. Yeah.
Not that she could check her phone for messages. Luke had further isolated her by moving her up the mountain. Loup Garou had no cell phone service. Internet only if she interrupted his grandparents’ TV reception. And as far as she knew, she hadn’t received a single sympathy card.
She didn’t understand Luke, except that he was good at telling her what he thought she wanted to hear. I’ll call you. I’ll show your songs to Toke Lobo. Now he was telling her he’d destroyed evidence to protect her. She wanted to trust him. She wanted to believe he was shielding her and keeping her secrets. But she couldn’t.
Maybe he really did kill Gary.
Luke slept nearly twenty-four hours. He woke briefly when Granny brought in meals for Abby and when his Aunt Macy dropped by for her daily visit. But he slept. Deeply. Without dreams. And when he awoke at dusk the following day, he was refreshed. He was ready to go. And the first thing he needed to do was talk to Abby and Libby. Separately. And he wanted to talk to them before Jasper or his government cronies got to them.
The bed was empty. He scowled, certain Granny had told him Abby was on bed rest.
He got up, pulled on his jeans, and wandered to the kitchen. Granny was at the stove. Again. The woman liked to cook. She was in her glory cooking for another homo sapien.
“Where’s Abby?” he asked.
“Abigail is in the living room, watching television. She has a sudden fixation with the nightly news. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“She prefers to be called Abby, and that’s what I prefer, too,” Luke said. “And she’ll want to know about the investigation into her stepfather’s death.”
“I figured,” Granny said. “And she never said she didn’t like her name.”
“Well, she doesn’t, and neither do I.”
“Don’t you growl at me,” Granny said. “You’re not so big and old I still can’t paddle your fanny with a wooden spoon.”
Luke grinned and kissed the top of Granny’s head, then wandered off in search of his wife. Who was reclining on the sofa, watching television, while Gramps sat in his recliner, either growling or snoring—Luke wasn’t sure which.
“Hey there,” he said.
“Hi.”
“Anything new?”
“No.”
He perched on the edge of the sofa near Abby’s belly. “We need to talk.”
“I know.”
“Let me shower, then maybe we can go for a drive or something.”
Her hand strayed to her slightly rounded stomach. “Granny has been limiting my activities. I’m not going to do anything that’s going to make me drink more of that squaw tea.”
His penis stirred. He tried to think of things like wearing a suit or eating a well-done steak or—thinking of Libby finally did the trick. He couldn’t get aroused over a kid. Thank the Ancient Ones.
“I’ll promise Granny I won’t try to jump your bones. Although your bones are jumpable.”
Abby smiled, but she didn’t look happy. “That’s the one thing we have going for our relationship. Your bones are jumpable, too.”
Oh, his shower needed to be a cold one. Did the girl have any idea what she did to him?
Luke boosted Abby into his truck. The palms of his hands were hot on her butt. The guy drove her crazy.
Not only had he replaced her guitar, but he’d remembered the brand and the narrow neck she needed. And sometimes, when he nuzzled her neck, she thought her heart would burst out of her chest like something from one of those old Alien movies.
They didn’t speak as Luke drove them away from his grandmother’s house, away from Loup Garou. But he headed up the mountain, not down toward Oak Moon. The aspens were losing their yellow leaves. The bare black branches reminded her of nothing so much as frail skeletal fingers reaching for the unattainable stars.
She shook off the gloomy mood. Her life was turning around. Wasn’t Gary dead? Wasn’t Luke showing signs of being on her side? She shivered and huddled deeper into her cardigan.
Luke was still in his T-shirt. He didn’t react to the cool autumn night air, not even a shiver. He fiddled with the radio, but there wasn’t any reception.
Luke finally parked the truck at the edge of a lake. Abby’s cheeks heated. Their child had been conceived here. She’d lived in Oak Moon her entire life and hadn’t known the lake existed.
Luke grabbed a blanket from behind the seat before climbing out of the truck. Abby opened her door, and Luke was there to lift her out of the vehicle. His hands were firm on her waist as he swung her to the ground. She noticed he was careful to avoid other contact. His grandmother must have really done a number on him.
He held her hand as he led her to the shore. They worked together to spread the blanket over the stony beach. The wind coming off the water was sharp, carrying tales of snow on the higher peaks.
When they were seated side by side, Luke took her hand again. “There are things I have to tell you and things you need to tell me. Stuff that’s nobody else’s business.”
Abby nodded. She’d been expecting this. His whole family kept asking if he’d talked to her yet. She had no idea what to expect.
“I know I mentioned I sometimes do favors for law enforcement, but I didn’t really tell you all of it. Mostly, when I do stuff, it’s for the Feds. Mostly the FBI. Kind of like spy stuff, you know?”
He expected her to believe that? Of all the things he might have told her, being a government spy wasn’t at all on the list. But it made sense, what with the way everyone kept trying to keep him from killing Gary. Even his readiness to kill Gary made sense now.
“Are you ever in danger?” she asked. “Or if you tell me, you’ll have to kill me?” She smiled to let him know she was joking.
“Sometimes. There was this one time last spring, when Stoker first met his mate—his wife—that things got a little heated. But mostly
I’m a computer guy.”
“Oh. Your aunt said all your files were password protected when we let Libby get on your computer. Does she know what you do?”
Luke laughed and squeezed her fingers. “Everybody in Loup Garou knows. Not the specifics. And I’m not the only one who’s done—favors. We kind of owe the government for something they did for us.”
Then it clicked. The pieces came together for her. “That’s how you found the pictures. The ones Gary took of me. You were surfing the ‘net, looking at porn.”
Luke grimaced. “Turns out the feds were real close to busting Gary and whoever he works with when I destroyed Gary’s hard drive. So to make it up to them, I offered to help on the case.”
Abby stiffened. No. She was free. She wasn’t going to—
“I don’t know anything.”
“Anything?” His voice turned from gentle to edgy.
Hot tears stung her eyes. She averted her face. It was dark. He wouldn’t be able to see the blood gathering in her cheeks, but still she turned away.
“You must know something.”
She wanted to remind him his grandmother didn’t want the baby disturbed, and Luke’s questions were causing all sorts of stress.
“I’m doing my best, Tokarz is doing his best—we’re all trying to keep the feds from coming after you and Libby, but—”
“Tokarz? Toke Lobo? He knows?” She couldn’t believe Luke had broadcast her humiliation to the world. How could she stay in Loup Garou, in Oak Moon, when everyone knew there were naked pictures of her on the Internet?
“It couldn’t be helped.” Luke sounded grim. “I needed his help to contact this guy, Mitchell Jasper, who is with the State Department and is the go-between between us and the FBI.”
“Is there anyone who doesn’t know?” A stray sob escaped.
“Wait a minute.” Luke cupped her chin and turned her head until she faced him. “You’re crying. Why? You didn’t do anything wrong. If you’d been robbed, you wouldn’t care if anyone knew. Or if you’d been in a car accident–”