by Jade Alters
Finally, there’s nothing to do but wait for Christa to show up. I’m edgy, waiting at our meeting table on the ground floor. While I wait, I poke around on my laptop looking at estate sales and wishing the customers currently browsing the store would just go away. Maybe we should have just closed for the day. They finally leave without buying anything, and somehow, this annoys me even more.
We all need to go on a run, to be honest. As soon as we get the chance, we should go into the woods and shift, at least for an hour or so. It would really take the edge off.
“Hey, everybody.” Christa smiles and nods curtly. She’s an older woman, somewhere over sixty, probably. She wears overalls and has long gray hair. According to Grant, she’s a pretty solidly advanced witch. She’s tested ingredients with small brews, and he said he could sense her power. She knows what she’s doing. That makes her a good person to have in our corner to figure out this stuff with Dora.
Nathan sits Christa down at our meeting table in the shop and puts out a sign that says we’ll be closed for an hour. We start explaining, all talking over each other until Nathan gives us all that irritated look of his that says we should all shut up. Christa drinks coffee and listens quietly and when Nathan is finished, she looks around at us with raised eyebrows.
“So, you guys got a shared fated mate, huh? Impressive.” She looks so certain about it, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
When she says it, I know immediately that she’s right. Though I haven’t thought about it in those terms before. The shared fated mate thing, as far as I know, has always been more of a legend. I remember hearing stories about wild women married to whole sleuths of bear shifters. I didn’t know it was a real thing. But it totally makes sense for us.
“Maybe,” Nathan says. He leans on his hand, and I look at him in surprise. I wonder if he’s been thinking about this the whole time.
Grant says, “I thought that was just a story?”
Brett sighs, and I see him looking more contented than usual. I’m starting to wonder if everyone has been thinking about this but me. Brett says, “All stories have some element of truth to them. Shared fated mates are rare. But they do happen.”
“I think it makes sense,” Nathan says, nodding. “We all care for her and feel this deep connection to her. Yet we don’t seem to feel jealous of each other. I mean, do you feel jealous?”
We all shake our heads. Huh. It’s odd. It didn’t even occur to me to feel jealous, like when Dora told me she kissed Brett.
“Well, that’s good,” Christa says. “Power between shared fated mates can be strong. It’ll give you an edge. Now let’s talk about this spell.”
Christa uses up the hour we stay closed to find out everything we can tell her about Dora’s spell, Ted’s behavior, and anything else we can think of. She doesn’t come up with a solution, but she says she’ll do whatever she can. It’s frustrating. None of this seems like enough. But at least we’re trying. The only thing I couldn’t stand would be to do nothing.
We open the store back up, and again, we get an influx of customers. It does make sense for fall. I think it’s an aesthetic thing. People love to buy antiques in the autumn. It’s often our busiest time, except for a burst of activity in late spring because people like to move then.
Around one in the afternoon, Nathan practically forces us to eat lunch, and I leave to go pick up sandwiches at the deli across the street. But everyone is grim. We’re all so concerned for Dora.
I’m eating my ham and swiss and begrudgingly combing Craigslist for any diamonds in the rough antiques-wise when Grant lets out a little yelp next to me as he looks at his phone.
“What is it?” I say, swallowing a bite of sandwich.
“You remember Wayne?” Grant says.
“Wayne the wolf?”
“Yeah, he doesn’t have a pack, but he has a foot in wolf shifter circles. He’s always been a good guy.”
Wayne the wolf is another customer of ours. The first time he came in the store, we all tensed up, immediately sniffing him out as a wolf. But we have no problem with him. We have a few other wolf shifter customers too. We’ve even run into them while out in the woods. We get along peaceably. I tend to forget they’re wolf shifters when I think about the tension between bears and wolves.
“What’s Wayne saying?” I ask him as Nathan comes over to lean on the table and listen in.
“Wayne is saying that there’s a lot of talk about Dora among the wolves,” Grant says, frowning as he reads off his phone. “They, or Ted at least, wants Dora in jail or dead. Jesus. They don’t like us very much either.”
“But why?” I say, practically choking.
“Doesn’t say why,” Grant says. “Just that they may have it out for us. Although Wayne says he’s still cool with us.”
“Well, as long as we’re cool Wayne,” Nathan says dryly. “Alright. This isn’t ideal.”
“I’d feel better about things if Dora was here,” I mutter, rubbing my chin. “Safety in numbers and all that.”
Nathan sighs and says, “Do we know any cops?”
“Oh!” Grant snaps his fingers. “We do! There’s that lieutenant who bought all the French Colonial stuff last year. Spent like five grand in the shop. He loves us. Came over for dinner that one time?”
Nathan nods. “Call him.”
I realize I’m jiggling my leg under the table. I’m totally on edge. I think we all are, and I know that none of us are going to feel any better until Dora is safe with us again.
We just have to get her back.
Dora
I’ve never been questioned by the cops before, not for anything. The worst crime I’ve ever committed was probably speeding. But today, I get pulled into one of those little rooms with a two-way mirror. I know I don’t have to say anything, and I can ask for a lawyer, but it barely gets that far. They make me sit in there with one hand cuffed to a table leg and leave me in there for the longest time. Eventually, I have to pee, but I’m a little afraid to ask for anything. Eventually, I bang on the table and call out, and the sergeant who put me in the car takes me to a cell and stands there while I go to the bathroom, which is a totally humiliating experience.
When the sergeant puts me back in the interrogation room and cuffs me to the table leg, she asks if I want coffee.
“Sure,” I say, shrugging. This entire experience is so surreal. “But I’d rather know what’s going on?”
“An anonymous source gave us information on the theft of private, confidential information,” the sergeant says. She crosses her arms and leans on the table, glaring down at me, but I get the feeling she has nothing against me in particular. She’s just doing her job. “Normally, this would be cause for a civil suit, potentially an indictment. But there’s reason to believe fraud was committed, which is a potentially arrestable offense. We’re going to question you, but we just have a backlog here.”
“Okay.” My back hurts from sitting a little hunched over because of the handcuffs. The chair is uncomfortable, and I’m hungry. I know I’m just inwardly whining because I’m stressed out, but it’s the only thing that’s keeping me from losing my mind.
I’m trying to keep my mouth shut. I figure the less I say to the cops, the better. But it’s hard not to just explode at this woman. I want to tell her that my old boss has it out for me, but then how would I explain that?
Well, he’s a wolf shifter, and I fucked up a magic spell that put him on a warpath against me. We’re still figuring it out.
I don’t imagine that would go over very well. If I sensed any magical energy coming off the cop, I might say something. But I think this sergeant is just a regular person. No help there. I’m just going to wait and try to answer questions carefully, if at all.
“I want a lawyer,” I say slowly. “I don’t have one.”
I grimace to myself. I used to work for a firm. I would’ve called one of them a week ago. There that goes. I almost wish I could get a hold of that lawyer my mom
tried to set me up with...except that would involve calling my mom and there’s no way I’m telling her I just got arrested.
I guess I’ll just wait it out.
The sergeant brings me coffee and smiles tightly, and then I’m left waiting again for another hour until she comes back with her partner.
The interrogation is weird. I don’t answer questions when the answers aren’t simple. They ask me where I was on certain days and if I remember certain names of clients. When I don’t answer, they really put the pressure on, and I hate when I start to cry, keeping my head down, staring down at my shoes. I tell myself this will be over soon. Even if it’s not true, I have to believe it. I don’t know how much time passes, but it feels like several more hours.
I’m tired and sore all over, and I haven’t eaten since my croissant that morning. The cops leave me alone in the room again, and I’m just about at the end of my rope when the sergeant comes back and says they’re releasing me but that I shouldn’t go far. Apparently, whoever their “source” is (I’m assuming it’s Ted) needs more evidence before they can charge me with anything.
I find myself relieved but no less scared. First, I get fired, and now this. And none of it is justified. What a bunch of bullshit. I just want to be left alone to figure out what to do next with my life.
When the cops give me my stuff back, I call Nathan on my phone and let him know I’m released, hoping for a ride. He sounds like he’s jumping in the car before I’ve even hung up, and I feel a little better. I get another coffee from the lobby of the police station and wait for my ride on a bench outside.
I’ve only been here for most of a day, and I wasn’t even in a cell, but I feel like I’ve been locked up for a week. I can’t imagine what that stuff is like when it’s drawn out and they actually charge you. What a nightmare.
It’s cold outside, and I didn’t bring a jacket. I could wait in the station, but I don’t want to be in there a minute longer. Instead, I sip my coffee and sit back on the bench, rubbing my eyes, and wishing Nathan would appear as I shiver from the cold.
When I finally see Nathan driving up in a truck, I stagger to my feet and make myself walk, one foot in front of the other. When Nathan hops out and comes striding up to me, looking like he wants to protect me from the entire universe, I just collapse into his arms and let him hold me tight. I burst into tears and let him hold me for a minute as I cry into his shoulder until he finally turns us and walks to the truck.
In the truck, I sit for a moment, feeling wrung out and a little hopeless. I feel guilty too. I feel like these kind men are going out of their way for me. Even if I’m innocent, it doesn’t seem like they should be taking the trouble. Then again, maybe that’s just my mood talking.
“I didn’t do anything,” I say shakily. “Nathan, you have to believe me. I didn’t do anything.”
“I know, sweetheart,” Nathan says quietly. He reaches over to stroke my hair and I lean up against him as he pulls out. “We’re all on your side, Dora. I promise you. We won’t leave you alone in this. You got us. Okay? You’ve got all of us.”
Nathan tells me that they’ve got a private investigator who’s trying to find Ted (no luck yet), a lawyer, a witch, and a couple of wolf shifter contacts keeping them updated on the current gossip in wolf circles. It’s like they’ve assembled an entire team of people to help me, and I can’t imagine why. Yet, when I lean up against Nathan, practically clinging to him in the truck, I feel that connection between us again. It’s as if there’s some invisible thread tying us together, and I can feel it humming with power and care. If the men feel it as strongly as I do, I guess it could explain why they would be so willing to help me. Whatever the reason is, though, I’m certainly grateful for it.
“We’re bracing ourselves for an attack by wolves,” Nathan says grimly as he pulls up in the driveway of their house. “We don’t know for sure, but that’s what it sounds like. For whatever reason, Ted’s got a huge vendetta against both you and our sleuth. We think he’ll try to start something. So we’re on high alert right now.”
“It’s because of that spell,” I say softly. “It’s all my fault.”
“We don’t know that,” Nathan says. We get out of the truck and he squeezes my shoulder as he leads me back inside. “Even if the spell is the cause, I’m not blaming you. You had no idea he was a shifter.”
It doesn’t feel very comforting to me. Maybe if I was a more advanced magic user or something, I would have been able to tell Ted was a shifter and specifically a wolf. Maybe then I would have been smart enough not to try a love spell in the first place. Whatever the case, I can’t help but feel incredibly guilty about the entire thing.
The car ride back to the house is mercifully short and very quiet. I follow Nathan inside, and at this point, I feel light-headed from hunger. I feel like I’m putting them out so much, I can’t bear to ask for something as simple as food.
Luckily, they’ve already thought of that. Nathan takes me upstairs and sits me at the dining table without a word, and a minute later, a plate of spaghetti and meatballs appears.
“Oh my God, thank you,” I say, grabbing a fork and trying not to look too much like a wild animal in front of a plate of raw meat. “I am so hungry.”
Jesse sits with me while I scarf down dinner, and I tell him about the interrogation as Nathan sporadically appears, sipping his coffee and looking dour. I don’t know where the others are. But I am glad things are quiet. The only problem with having four, somewhat aggressive, hot men on your side is how overwhelming it can be at times. I wouldn’t mind it usually. But right now, I just want to relax for a minute before another disaster comes around to blow things up again.
After dinner, I feel wired up now. I know I’ll never get to sleep. I find myself pacing around the house. I play poker with Grant and Jesse, and they do lighten the mood a bit. I appreciate how much they try to cheer me up while still not pretending that everything is fine. Eventually, I end up watching an old movie with Brett in the living room, but I get the sense that he’s staying up just for me. After a while, I finally announce I’m turning in.
“Oh, are you?” Brett says sleepily. “Okay.”
I chuckle at that. As if he wasn’t about to just conk out on the couch next to me? Sure.
We stagger our way upstairs and say goodnight. I am tired, but I know sleep is still a long way off, and I also dread sleeping alone. This house may feel like home more than I ever would have thought, but everything is so up in the air. With Ted out there somewhere, potentially rounding up wolves to come and attack me, I don’t even want to be alone in a room right now. I change into my pajamas, opting for a tiny little slip of a nighty because the upstairs section of the house runs warm. The material is thin and barely covers me, but it’s comfy as I climb into bed.
I’m not in the bed five minutes before I think I hear a noise outside, and I pop out again and run to the window trying to see if there’s any motion out there. My eyes search the darkness, looking for wild wolves, I guess. But I can’t see anything, even with all my lights out.
“I’m gonna lose my mind,” I mutter to myself.
I end up pacing around, trying to exhaust the little pockets of energy that are only giving me anxiety. I wish fear exhausted me instead of making me revved up, but I can’t seem to sit still. I’m worried somebody’s about to attack at any second. I keep imagining Ted shifting outside and crashing right through the window.
When there’s a knock on my door, I jump a little. But it’s only Nathan, who sticks his head in. “Are you okay?”
I open my mouth to say yes but end up saying, “No, not really.”
Nathan lets himself in and closes the door behind him, leaning against it. “What can I do?”
“I—” I swallow and blink away the tears of fear in my eyes, sitting on the bed. “Don’t leave me alone,” I say softly, looking up at him. “Stay here with me. Please.”
“Okay.” He nods like this is not a strange request at all
. The fact that he’s matter-of-fact about it kind of helps too. “Let me get a pillow and a blanket. I’ll sleep on the floor—”
“Oh my God, forget that,” I mumble. I climb into bed and pull the covers back for Nathan, beckoning him. “Just get in here, please.”
Nathan only nods again, mutely. He approaches slowly as if he has to be tentative, even though I’m the one inviting him into my bed. I try not to think about how he’s shirtless and only wearing pajama pants, and the fact that I’m wearing hardly anything at all. I just need the comfort. Or anyway, that’s what I tell myself as I turn over on my side, and he curls up behind me. I bite my lip and inch back, and he lets me press up against him, finally wrapping his arm around me so we’re spooning.
“Is this okay?” He says softly in the dark quiet.
“Yeah,” I whisper.
It’s good, but it makes me ache. I can feel his bare chest up against the bare skin of my back that my little nighty doesn’t cover. I can feel the warm little puff of his breath on the back of my neck, and I can smell him; the faint scent of cologne and something else that must be his bear shifter. It’s a little musky, and it smells—well, it smells like a “strong man” is the only way I can describe it.
“You feel good,” I whisper. I wince. I didn’t really mean to say that aloud. But Nathan’s big, broad body pressed up against mine is definitely doing things to me. Nathan finds my hand and our fingers entangle, the simple touch making the heat rise in my cheeks as I feel him breathing.
I think I can feel him getting hard too, and he shifts a little, moving away. But I want this. At least, I want it if he’s willing to give it. I turn over in bed and face him and see his pupils are blown out. His mouth is parted as he stares at me, mere inches between us. I can feel him practically vibrating. It’s like he’s radiating his desire. He wants me too, so badly he can hardly stand it, and we’re feeding off each other’s want.