by Amy Green
Someone making fun of her. Telling her to quit her job, put on some regular clothes, and go to Brody’s house at sunup. It was a great setup if someone wanted to laugh at her, but that wasn’t what this was. This was actually real. It was happening.
She was supposed to go to his house.
She couldn’t think about that, so when she got home that night—after giving Patty a day’s notice, as instructed—she changed her clothes and walked next door to her parents’ house. They lived in a small bungalow, decades old, just like hers, on a neighborhood street in the Falls. Like the rest of town, this street had seen decades of decay, houses getting rundown, drug dealers and sometimes hookers on the street. But the drug dealers and hookers were gone now, and sometimes in the early dusk the kids came out and played ball hockey on the street, calling to each other and laughing. That was Brody’s work.
It was late, midnight, but the light was on in her parents’ living room window, so she knocked on the front door. Her father knew who she was before he opened the door, because he was a wolf shifter with a wolf shifter’s sense of smell. “Honey!” he said happily, pulling her into a hug.
“Hi, Dad.” She hugged him back. Shifters, she knew, were widely despised by humans in the outside world. They were seen as half-animal, wild and unruly, refusing to do the regular things—get an education, get married, get a job. They lived how they wanted, by their own rules, and that scared people.
Part of her could see that. But she had grown up with shifters all her life, and what she saw was so different from what other humans saw. She saw that her parents were mated for life, her father as committed to his mate as he had been from the first day he wooed her. She saw that he had treated her mother as the most important thing in his life for twenty-five years. She saw a devoted, committed father, who had been involved in every aspect of Alison’s life and had never made her feel less than important. He had changed diapers and cleaned messes and cooked for her and looked after her just as much as her mother had. That was the wolf shifter’s way.
Alison was their only child, and when she had grown old enough to move out and be independent, she hadn’t seen the need to go far. Some shifter daughters left town as soon as they could, trying to live a normal life in the real world, with only other humans. Alison had never had that desire. She didn’t want to go be a stranger in a strange city. These were her people, and they were here, so she stayed. That made her boring, mundane, unglamorous. She was well aware of it.
Her mother was sitting on the sofa, her feet up, a glass of wine in her hand. On the TV was an old sitcom, The Honeymooners, coming via antenna from the TV station twenty miles away. Shifter Falls really seemed like it was in a time warp sometimes.
“What’s up, sweetie?” her mother asked, smiling at her from the couch. “Get something from the fridge if you’re hungry.”
Alison opened the fridge, found a cup of premade chocolate pudding, and pulled the top off. She had inherited her father’s passion for chocolate. “Can we talk?” she asked her parents, grabbing a spoon.
“Sure.” Her dad turned the TV off, and The Honeymooners disappeared. “What’s going on?”
Alison came back into the living room and plopped down on the sofa next to her mother. “I quit the diner today,” she said.
There was a moment of stunned silence. She had been working at the Four Spot since she was seventeen—and she realized now that everyone pretty much thought she would be there forever. She was a fixture, like the sign or the dark red booths or the daily specials board. She would be a waitress at the Four Spot, unchanging, until the end of time. Even her parents thought that.
Her life, maybe, was in a bit of a rut. Maybe she should face the truth and admit it.
“What’s going on?” her father asked, concerned.
Alison dunked her spoon into her pudding. Her heart was quietly racing behind her ribcage, and she realized now that she was excited. Even if this all went horribly wrong, she was still excited. “Brody Donovan came in to the diner today and offered me a job,” she said.
She could not have surprised her parents more if she had said she’d sprouted wings. “A job doing what?” her mother asked, putting down her wine glass.
“As his assistant,” Alison said, putting the pudding spoon in her mouth. Sweet, sweet chocolate. She licked her lip and said, “He needs help with the job of alpha. It’s too much for one man, and he can’t ask one of his brothers without upsetting the power balance. So he asked me.”
Her parents exchanged a look heavy with meaning. “Does he know you’re in love with him?” her father asked.
“James,” her mother chided gently. Shifters were blunt, especially about emotions.
“It’s okay,” Alison said to her mother. They’d never really talked about how she felt about Brody, but there was a first time for everything. “I don’t think he knows. At least, he hasn’t said anything. He’s just familiar with me, that’s all. He knows me, and he trusts me. He needs someone steady and loyal. And that’s me.”
She let the words hang there. She wasn’t about to tell her parents Brody’s secret about the jumbled letters; she’d take that to her grave if needed. Let them think Brody had just woken up one day and decided.
They didn’t need to know he’d picked her from necessity, not because he wanted to.
“Well, he’s lucky to get you,” her father said loyally. “I always said you’re the smartest girl in Shifter Falls. You were wasted serving coffee. I’m glad Brody sees your potential.” He looked thoughtful. He scratched his chin, and she could see the large scar that ran over the back of his left hand. She’d asked once, when she was little, what that scar was, and he’d told her never to ask again. It was something bad, something to do with his work for the pack. That’s what it was like in the pack under Charlie Donovan’s rule. “It’s a true honor, to be chosen by the alpha,” her father said.
“I know, Dad,” Alison said.
“Especially Brody,” her father said. “We had a lot of bad years with Charlie, and everyone was a little apprehensive when Brody came along. He keeps to himself, lives all the way out in the woods. We didn’t know what he would be like deep down. But he’s been leading us for nearly a year now, and he’s shown what kind of a man he is. He’s honorable, and he can make the hard decisions.”
“I’m not sure about it,” her mother broke in. “Sweetie, are you sure? You’re a very pretty girl, and Brody isn’t mated.”
Alison dunked her spoon back into her pudding cup a little harder than necessary. “I’m not sleeping with him, Mom, as I’m sure Dad can tell you.” Shifters could smell sex. “He didn’t hire me for that. I’m sure if Brody wants a woman in his bed, he doesn’t have to give her a job to do it.”
“Well, I can have a talk with him,” her father said. “He’s my alpha, but I’m your father and that gives me a right.”
Her father was a pack soldier, not a leader, which put Brody at an impossibly high rank in comparison. Normally, a pack soldier would never “have a talk” with his alpha—about anything. But what her father was saying was that an exception could be made if he thought his alpha was mistreating his blood.
Mistreating, as in using her for sex. In case Brody was trying to do that.
Shifters could be so infuriating sometimes.
“No,” she told her father. “Don’t have a talk. Okay? Please. Please don’t talk to him about anything to do with me, or his having sex with me, or not having sex with me. Or anything.” She put the cup and spoon down on the coffee table, flustered. “Why do you assume that, anyway? Because he’s a grown wolf and he isn’t mated? That isn’t all there is to it. He chose me. He could have picked anyone, but he picked me. Because he likes me, and he trusts me, and he thinks I’m smart. Because we’re friends.”
Were they friends? She supposed so, but she didn’t even know. Were you friends with someone you had been in love with since you were twelve? She didn’t know, but maybe she had a chance to find ou
t. And she wouldn’t find out anything if her father had a talk with Brody before they even had a chance.
“I trust Brody,” her father said. “At least he isn’t Heath—or the way Heath used to be before he had a mate. But unmated alphas can be unpredictable. And you’re mother’s right, you’re beautiful. If he doesn’t see that now, then he’ll see it soon, when you start working together.”
“Oh my god, Dad,” Alison said. “Would you be like this with any man who came along? This embarrassing?”
He took this question seriously. “Well, we’ve never had this situation before, because you’re a virgin.”
“James,” her mother chided again. “Girls don’t like to talk about that. Especially with their fathers.”
“Why not?” her father said in his forthright shifter way. “It isn’t shameful, it’s biology. And it’s my job to protect you. I don’t think Brody should trifle with you if he’s your first. That would hurt your feelings. Maybe I should tell him. He probably wouldn’t try to sleep with you if he knew.”
Alison put her hands over her eyes and sunk down in the sofa cushions. For the first time in her life, she understood—really, truly understood—why girls left Shifter Falls. She felt like moving to Timbuktu so she would never have to have this conversation again. “Stop,” she begged her parents. “Please stop.”
To their credit, they were quiet. She felt her mother softly pat her arm.
“Okay,” Alison said after a minute, lowering her hands from her burning face. “First of all, Dad, you are not going to tell Brody Donovan that I’m a virgin. You’re not going to tell him anything. You’re not going to talk to him at all.”
“But—”
“No,” she said. “I’m twenty-four, and I can handle this. I need to handle this by myself. Okay?”
He frowned and said nothing.
“Second of all,” Alison continued, “Brody hired me for a job. A job. I don’t care if he’s an unmated alpha. I don’t even care if he has a different woman every night.” The thought made her want to throw up. “He offered me an opportunity to do something more than wait tables, and I’m going to take it. I’m going to do the best job I can for him, and I’m going to help the pack, and you two are going to stay out of it. That’s final. Got it?”
There was a stunned silence, and then her father nodded. “Okay,” he said.
Alison turned and looked at her mother. Her mother was smiling.
4
She really didn’t know what to wear. It was embarrassing, remembering that she’d asked Brody that question, as if he were her best girlfriend. What do I wear? He’d given her a funny look and said, Whatever you want.
Because he truly didn’t understand. Why would he?
She wanted to look nice, and feminine. She also wanted to look competent, and not like she was trying to seduce him. (The idea of her seducing Brody Donovan was laughable, but she didn’t want any misunderstanding.) At the same time, this was a man who wore jeans and flannel shirts three hundred and sixty-five days a year, so fussy wouldn’t cut it.
She picked out jeans and a t-shirt she’d bought at the local craft market, which had a handmade design on the front of a spray of colorful flowers done in paint. She had bought the shirt because she loved it, then couldn’t think of anywhere to wear it. Well, today was the day.
She added ankle boots, mascara, and lip gloss, and kept her hair down. She felt a giddy moment of pleasure that she didn’t have to go to the diner anymore and wear that godawful uniform, nor did she have to smell coffee or French fries ever again. Then she drove to Brody’s house.
The house was beautiful at sunup, just as it was any other time of day. The air was clear and cold, and the rising sun glinted off the house’s big windows under its peaked roof. The driveway was cobblestone, leading to a wide front porch in dark wood, covered and shady. There was a single chair on the porch, as if Brody sometimes sat there alone. Her heart was in her throat as she knocked on the door. This was it: If he didn’t mean it, if he’d changed his mind, he’d tell her now.
There was a second of silence, and then the front door was flung open. And there he was, wearing jeans and a white t-shirt and nothing else. No flannel shirt, no baseball cap, just Brody and his damp, tousled dark hair. Even his feet were bare. “Hey,” he said. “Just come in next time. I’ll leave it open.”
She followed him into the house. She didn’t know what to look at: his retreating form—Brody was heavenly to look at from the back—or the house. So she swiveled her gaze around discreetly, trying to look at both.
The house was breathtaking. The main room was huge and open, with high ceilings, done in rich wood. There was a bar and a big fireplace and sofas placed here and there, all of it lit with sunlight from the windows looking out over the woods. She could even see the mountains in the far distance, their sharp purple silhouettes. It was incredible. Everyone wondered why Brody holed up in his house all the time, never leaving. Alison could perfectly see why. If this was her home, she’d never leave either.
He motioned her toward one of the sofas, in front of which was a table with some papers piled on it. “We have about two hours,” he said.
“Before what?”
“Before my brothers come to the meeting I called. To tell them about you. I figured we should go through some things first.”
“Okay,” she said. She sat on the sofa, putting her purse down next to her, but he didn’t sit.
She looked up at him. He looked big from down here, much bigger than usual. He was clean-shaven like always, his gaze calm. He looked at her hair, which was down, his expression unreadable. Then he looked back at her face. “You like coffee?” he said. “I have some on.”
“Oh,” she said. Instinct took over—she’d been a waitress too long. She got her feet under her to jump up. “I’ll get it.”
He put a hand on her shoulder, his fingertips pressing down. Strong, but not forceful. Implacable. “I’ll get it,” he said. “How do you like it?”
This was alpha behavior. He did it automatically, she knew, without thinking. It was him arranging things the way he wanted to see them and expecting it to work. So she sat back down. “Just milk, please.”
He walked away, and she heard him moving around the open kitchen. He came back with two cups, and she knew that his cup had just the smallest amount of cream, exactly as he liked it. He dropped down onto the sofa opposite her and put his elbows on his knees. He looked at the papers between them and scrubbed a hand over his jaw.
She sipped her coffee, which was delicious, and watched him. “What?” she said after a minute.
“Just thinking of where to start,” he said. He scrubbed his jaw again. “I’m going to offend you when I say this, but it’s too important, so I’m going to say it anyway. This stuff, in these papers—no one knows about it. No one. Just my brothers and me.” He looked at her. “I’m trusting you with that.”
“Okay,” she said. “I understand. I do.”
“I knew you would,” he said. He picked up the first papers. “This is the Dirty Den project.”
Alison blinked. The Dirty Den was Shifter Falls’ strip club, right downtown. Charlie, the old alpha, had used it as a place to do business, and aside from the stripping, it was known as a spot for prostitutes and drug dealers. “What’s the Dirty Den project?” she asked.
“We’re closing it down,” Brody said. “We’ve already gotten all the girls out of there, sent them on their way. Now we want to tear down the building. Not remodel, tear down. So that everyone knows Charlie’s reign is finished, and it’s never coming back.”
“That sounds good,” Alison said. “I hate that place.”
“Everyone hates that place,” Brody agreed. “We were thinking about tearing down the Hi-Lo, too, but the Falls could use a movie theater. A legitimate one.” The Hi-Lo was a porn theater, now defunct, that had also been used as one of Charlie’s meeting places. Brody had changed the tone of the Falls just by doing business in the
Four Spot instead of in the Falls’ seedier hangouts. “The MacKenzie brothers are interested in taking over the Hi-Lo building and doing regular movies in it, if we can make a deal. But the Dirty Den has to go. We’ll put a park and a playground there instead.”
Alison smiled. “Charlie would hate that.”
“That’s part of the idea. That, and the fact that we don’t have a proper park anywhere in the city limits. The people running the Falls have always just assumed that shifters will go run in the woods when they want to go outdoors. Which we do. But no one has been considering the humans here, and their little kids. They have nowhere to go.”
She thought this over. He was right. Kids in the Falls played in the streets when they weren’t in school. There was a small park wedged into a quarter of a city block downtown, with a few kids’ slides and a couple of benches, but it wasn’t much. “Okay,” she said. “What do I do to help?”
“To tear it down, we need a wrecking crew,” Brody said, handing her some papers. “These are quotes. The crews need permits in order to do the work. The permits come from the county.” He handed her more papers. “To get the permits, we have to prove ownership of the building. That’s where it gets tricky.”
Of course it did. Shifters didn’t deal with real estate agents or lawyers if they could avoid it. A lot of property deals in Shifter Falls were done with verbal negotiations, handshakes, or inheritances that were simply understood from one generation to the next. “There’s no ownership on record?” Alison asked.
“There is, and it’s surprising. The building was Charlie’s,” Brody said. “I didn’t know he owned any of the Falls real estate personally. I always thought it was pack property. But the fact that Charlie was stockpiling his own wealth doesn’t surprise me.”
“Okay,” Alison said, taking yet more paper from him. She was starting to see why the job of alpha would be stressful for a man whose letters jumbled on him. How many nights had he sat here alone on this sofa, into the late hours, staring at papers and waiting for the letters to align? He keeps to himself, lives all the way out in the woods, her father had said. Everyone just assumed he was a loner, antisocial. Which he was. But there was more to him. There always was.