Roaring Up the Wrong Tree

by Celia Kyle

  That earned him a big, wet kiss from Nellie, along with a reminder to change his relationship status on the WereWeb, the shifter social network he’d developed. Then the woman was gone, bustling her way between tables as she headed toward the kitchen. With a smile on his lips and a shake of his head, he slid into the booth opposite Trista.

  Trista met his smile with a grin of her own.

  It felt right, being across from Tris as they sat down to a meal… it felt right. For the first time in his life, he relished in his calm bear and the beautiful woman near him.

  Keen placed his hand on the table and reached toward her. Trista met him halfway, placing her palm on his and his beast relaxed further, practically purring from her touch. He had no doubt the animal would rise hot and hard if they were threatened, but now he wasn’t fighting his inner-animal every second.

  “Relationship status? WereWeb?” She raised her eyebrows.

  He shrugged. Truly, it was one of his favorite projects plus it made a little bit of money on the side. He earned plenty from his regular job—developing software and testing company vulnerabilities—but the extra cash was always welcome. Now that he had a mate and a goal in mind, he was glad he had the money. He’d flag it for his cubs’ college. Let the social network put their children through school.

  Thoughts of children brought about thoughts of sex. With Trista. A lot.

  Clearing his throat, he focused on her question.

  “It’s like Facebook but for weres. I mean, it does a lot more than Facebook and it’s entirely locked down with several layers of security. It took me a while to implement the protocols and then coordinate various hacks and attacks against the site. But,” he shrugged, “it’s something that helped bring everyone together. We even have an Android and Apple app so you can post status updates whenever.”

  “You designed it?” Shock filled her features while pride filled his chest.

  Finally someone thought it was a big deal.

  Because, really, it was a big fucking deal.

  Which had him launching into the whys and hows and did she know how hard it was to get were-children to remember not to use passwords like “god” or “1234.” He lost her when he got to the best server configurations and surviving DDoS attacks.

  Trista stared at him with glazed eyes and a blank look on her face. It wasn’t until Nellie placed food before them that Keen shut up and his mate shook her head and snapped out of her stupor.

  “Uh, that’s interesting.”

  He kicked up the right side of his mouth in a rueful grin. “It’s not for everyone and I tend to get lost in code sometimes.” He shrugged. “You have to tell me to be quiet or change the subject.”

  “But it’s important to you which makes it important to me, even if I don’t understand what you’re saying. I’m not going to cut you off.”

  “I get carried away.”

  Trista rolled her eyes. “It’s obviously your passion, Keen.”

  Code and computers weren’t his only passion, but he didn’t think he could say that in the middle of the diner when anyone could hear them. Later was a different story.

  “So, technology is my thing. I code, do some graphic design. Other companies pay me to hack into their systems and then pay me to fix their security vulnerabilities. What keeps you busy?”

  Trista frowned and he immediately regretted the question. She’d been on the run for most of her life and he doubted there was much time for school when she was worried about staying alive.

  “I worked at Jerry’s, then at the bar, and then spent time in my shithole apartment. I mean, I once wanted to paint and go to college and major in art, but…” She grimaced. “You didn’t mate the sharpest tool in the shed, Keen. I’m not even sure this whole thing is a good idea.”

  His bear growled low, annoyed that they’d rolled back to her doubting herself and doubting their mating.

  “Trista, look at me.” His voice held more than a hint of his bear and he couldn’t fight the animal into submission. It was not going to be denied.

  It took several seconds, but she finally raised her gaze. Extra moisture poised on her lower lids, waiting for a few more tears to gather before spilling down her cheeks. “Staying safe, keeping ahead of the wolves, bears, and even hyenas, takes a lot of knowledge, strength, and cold hard stubbornness. I bet you could quote me any law I asked without hesitation. I bet you know which counter others and when the most recent law should give way to the oldest. And I bet you could outmaneuver any shifter you come across based on the laws alone.”

  She didn’t dispute any of his claims. He hadn’t expected her to. Did she know everything there was to know about the world? Did she go to college? Probably not. But his woman was a genius when it came to survival.

  He replayed Reid’s words, melded them with what he knew of Trista, and came to a conclusion that was utterly the opposite the wolf Alpha’s. “I also think you have the Southeast Keeper’s number because he gets help from you, not the other way around.”

  Again, she kept quiet on the idea. She merely slipped another french fry into her mouth, chewing quietly as the world continued to swirl around them. The clink and clank of dishes peppered through the soft roar of the other patrons, giving them a raucous song to go along with their meal.

  Keen remained silent, content to simply be near his mate as they shared a meal.

  Minutes passed and Trista cleared her throat, snaring his attention. “He made sure the hyenas knew he knew about what I was doing and he does the same thing with the wolves and threatened them with going to their territory leaders if they bothered us.”

  He nodded. “That’s the deal? You help him and he tells others to abide by the law? A little blackmail?”

  With Trista’s answering nod, he fought to keep control of his bear. The fucking bastard. He could have done something to help Trista and instead, used her to his benefit while leaving her to struggle.

  He swallowed the roar building in his throat, pushed it down and beat the bear back. The shifters in the area around them fell silent as they eased away from them, him. He had no doubt they scented his towering rage and he was never more thankful that his mate wasn’t a full hyena.

  “There’s no reason to be angry, Keen.” Her voice was soft and a slight tremble filled the words.

  “I’m fine.” He managed not to snap at her.

  Tris shook her head and tapped her nose. “No, you’re not.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You’re only a half-were. You can’t shift.”

  “No, I can’t shift, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do things. I can smell scents and my hearing is better than others’. I have an animal here.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “You just can’t see it.”

  Rolling her words through his mind, he realized he’d let her distract him. Damn it. He went back to being pissed at the Southeast Keeper and decided the Southeast Itan was going to get a call from him as soon as they got back to the bed-and-breakfast.

  “You’re mad again,” she murmured, her gaze flicking to the booth behind him and the now empty table nearby.

  Keen took a deep breath, drawing Trista’s scent into his lungs, and the bear lowered its rage to a manageable level. Instead of wanting to kill everyone, he only wanted to have the Keeper’s blood on his hands. There, that was better.

  “You won’t be helping the Southeast Keeper any longer.”

  “But he—”

  He shook his head. “No, he used you and didn’t give you anything in return. He could have brought you and your mother to their compound. He could have actually paid you for your services. He could have done more than simply make a phone call.” The fury threatened to overtake him once again. “I don’t want to be a caveman mate, but in this instance, I’m telling you I don’t want you helping him. I refuse to have you taken advantage of. He’s disrespecting you, Trista, and that is not something I’ll tolerate. Ever.”

  Trista’s brow puckered, her lips doing the same thing, as
she stared at the battered tabletop between them. The look of confusion was unmistakable and it broke his heart. She’d become so familiar with being used that she no longer realized she was being used.

  It made him furious on her behalf and he resolved to keep her sheltered from those types of people. His mate should be a shining light safe from the bastards of the world. From now on, she would be.

  She still wore that confused expression and he redirected her thoughts. The level of asshole-ishness of the Southeast Keeper could be explored later.

  “Eat up. We’ve got an appointment with Helena in half an hour.”

  Chapter Ten

  If Trista had claws, she’d scratch out Helena’s eyes. She hadn’t met the woman yet, didn’t know her from Adam, but the hint of caring that entered Keen’s eyes when he spoke of her was enough for Trista. She wasn’t going to address the fact that she’d tried, more than once, to cut Keen free. The thing was, she decided to keep him and she wanted Helena far, far away. Maybe across the ocean.

  While they rolled through the streets of Grayslake, Trista allowed her thoughts to drift to Keen’s words. They were flat, a base pronouncement that allowed no wiggle room.

  I don’t want to be a caveman mate, but in this instance, I’m telling you I don’t want you helping him. I refuse to have you taken advantage of. He’s disrespecting you, Trista, and that is not something I’ll tolerate. Ever.

  She was glad in a way. She didn’t want wiggle room, she didn’t want to speak to the Keeper ever again. She’d always secretly harbored the same thoughts, but fear kept her calling him once a week, kept her checking in and solving his problems while her father’s decree kept her in town.

  Every Wednesday for years and years, she’d made that call.

  … I don’t want you helping him.

  She wondered how the Keeper would react when she didn’t call. With a mental shrug, she realized it wasn’t her problem anymore.

  They rounded another corner and traveled down a small, quiet side street. The homes were neat and cute with their throwback architecture and manicured lawns. Large trees shadowed the asphalt, sprinkling their path with flowers and leaves. Most of the driveways were empty and she assumed their occupants were off at work while their perfect 2.5 children were in school. That’s what it was. This block, this area, epitomized the perfect American neighborhood.

  She wondered if June Cleaver was going to walk out of a home and wave in welcome.

  They traveled a little farther and finally pulled into the cracked driveway of one of the homes. It was an enormous, two-story house with gorgeous flowers lining the walkway and a massive oak tree in the middle of the front yard. A tire swing hung from one of the larger branches and she could imagine taking a swing. Or rather, their cubs.

  Trista’s heart fluttered at the thought of having cubs with Keen. Having cubs meant sex and… her breath caught, body liking that idea way too much.

  Keen shifted the SUV into park and turned toward her. “Ready?”

  That’s when she tore her mind from thinking about sex with Keen and focused on the For Sale sign stuck in the ground near the sidewalk. She also noticed the vehicle in front of them that sported one of those magnetic signs. It was splashed with an image of Helena Montgomery along with the woman’s contact information.

  She glared at the sign. The woman was way too pretty. And skinny. And all around Miss America type sugary sweetness.

  Movement near the front door caught her eye and she spied the woman waving at them, a wide smile in place.

  Strike that, she wasn’t pretty, was way too gorgeous.

  “Stay put, I’ll come around.” With that, Keen climbed from the vehicle.

  Unfortunately, Helena got to him before he got to her. The skinny woman with the perfect hair and the perfect makeup and the perfect body launched herself at her mate. She wrapped her arms around Keen’s neck and gave him a tight hug followed by a smacking kiss to his cheek.

  Wow. Just… wow.

  The bit of animal inside her snarled and growled, urging her to claim her man.

  Reaching for the handle, she kept her gaze focused on Keen and Helena as she hopped from the truck and then thumped the door closed. The two didn’t even look at her. Helena kept chattering like a fucking bird even though one sniff told Trista she was a bear.

  The woman was still prattling on when she stopped beside the couple; Keen listening, Helena blah, blah, blah-ing.

  Trista wasn’t one for hating people in general, but Helena had officially flipped her “I hate you with the strength of a gajillion suns, you evil whore” switch.

  Standing beside the couple, Trista did notice that Keen seemed to be fighting Helena’s touches, easing her hands away when the woman reached for him and brushing her off when she managed to make contact. That didn’t satisfy her inner-animal though. No, it was still pissed as hell and even more pissed that she couldn’t do anything furry about it.

  “Ahem.”

  “And this house is so gorgeous. You’re going to love this place. But it’s so big you should think about finding a mate—”

  “Ahem.” She even coughed that time. All to no avail.

  “Finally settling do—”

  “A. Fucking. Hem.”

  Two sets of eyes focused on her, one set filled with apology and a hint of shame as well as sincere thanks. The other was decidedly cool along with a “WTF, bitch.”

  Nice.

  Keen immediately slipped his arm around her waist and tugged her close until she was plastered to his side. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and lingered for a moment, drawing in an audible breath as he rubbed his cheek against her hair.

  “Helena, you’re right, it is time to settle down. I’d like you to meet my mate, Trista.” His rumble vibrated through her, plucking her nerves and adding a new awareness.

  “Mate?” The woman practically screeched and Trista winced. “You mated this—the… ew, a hyen—”

  Now it was Keen with the frozen stare.

  “Excuse me?” His voice was deceptively quiet, but Trista sensed the suppressed rage in his body.

  Helena swallowed hard, her eyes suddenly wide. “I was just saying that, uh, you and I seemed… you know, I thought that…”

  Trista’s own jealous and anger swirled together until she was nearly overcome with the urge to go after the woman.

  “I’m sorry if you looked at our time together as anything but friendship, but that’s what it was.”

  “I let you sleep in my bed,” she snapped.

  Keen tightened his hold on Trista, not allowing her to go after the perfect Ms. Montgomery.

  “As friends, Helena. Now, are you going to show us the house or do you need to call another Realtor to assist us?”

  The werebear woman breathed deep, tossed Trista one last glare, and finally spoke through gritted teeth. “No, I’ll open it for you. I’m sure you can tour the home on your own with your new mate.”

  Keen led her around Helena and across the lawn, leaving the furious werebear on the driveway. By the time they reached the door, Trista couldn’t figure out what angered her more. The fact that the woman spent time in Keen’s bed or the fact that… Okay, no, it was all about Helena the Whore being that close to her mate.

  Feelings of possessiveness and ownership bombarded her and she didn’t even try to suppress them. Keen was hers. He’d said the words and she’d finally settled on the idea of belonging to him in return.

  They stepped into the dim home, the interior empty of any furniture. The wood floors gleamed, reflecting the hints of sunshine that peeked through the windows. The walls were painted muted hues of beige and cream. Part of her itched to throw bright paint on every surface and breathe life into the place. It was plain and simple, generic like every hotel room and apartment she’d lived in. Ideas about decorating and brightening up the place came crashing down with the thump of the heavy front door swinging closed.

  Then she was reminded of Keen and ultimately
Helena.

  He reached for her and she stepped away, not allowing the connection. Whatever happened between him and the woman was in the past, she knew that. She also knew the moment they fully mated, he would never, ever cheat. But right now, the hyena thought of his hands on her. Those same hands that stroked her and held her hand.

  “Tris…” He sighed and leapt for her in a single, blurring move.

  One moment he was five feet away and the next he had her captured, bracketing her body as her back collided with the wall. He surrounded her, held her prisoner with his presence. With him so close, his scent filling her lungs, some of her jealousy drifted away. Keen was a fierce, strong, gorgeous hunk of werebear. Any woman would be pissed about losing him.

  “Listen for a minute.” His voice was deep and husky.

  She nodded, waiting for him to speak.

  “I…” He dropped his head forward, pressing their foreheads together. “I know what my reputation is in town.”

  Trista did, too. He was a womanizer. A man whore. There’d been more than one instance of him stumbling out of some female’s home in the early morning hours. Then he’d be in someone else’s that night. When she’d decided to accept him as hers, she’d also tossed that knowledge aside. Stupid on her part.

  “I have never had sex with Helena or ninety percent of the women who claim otherwise.” He pulled back, placed a fingertip beneath her chin, and urged her to tilt her head back. She allowed him to move her. “When we’re alone, when I don’t have to suffer through having her scent on me instead of yours, I’ll tell you more. But I can count the women I’ve been with on one hand and Helena is not one of them. I swear to you, Tris.”

  He paused for a moment, indecision coating his features, and then spoke again. “She wanted to be a notch on my belt and she told people she was, but I’m discerning when it comes to sex. And yeah, it’s weird, right? A guy sleeping with a woman, but not sleeping with her. I get that it’s hard to believe, but when the bear rides me hard, it takes everything inside me to keep it contained. It’d difficult to think of sex when my animal is aching to go on a bloody rampage. So, no, I didn’t.”