CHAPTER TEN
Holding a mug of tea out on the porch, I jumped a mile when the sirens went off. Tea, thankfully warm, not hot, splashed down the front of my long-sleeved red top.
Exhaling a shaky breath, I glanced down at a large wet blotch spreading across the bright fabric. "Geez."
I probably should have been used to the alarm sirens by this point. They had been going off at least twice a day for the previous three weeks, beginning a few days after all the Howell wolves had been killed. That was when Grant learned that the massive wolf shifters from the north that had joined forces with the Howell wolves had teamed up with the wolves from Stony Rapids.
He'd also learned that together, they planned to attack Sun Creek to claim it as their own, and they hadn't wasted any time in this effort. However, their plan to take over the city and claim its wealth and women had proved so far unsuccessful, to say the least. Time after time after time, they'd been driven back by Grant and his men, and dozens of the wolves from Stony Rapids had been killed, along with two of the great northern wolves.
This wasn't to say that Sun Creek felt like a safe place to be, though, by any means. The dozens of Stony Rapids wolves that had been killed barely made a dent in their population, which numbered several hundred. There were also ten remaining members of the northern wolf pack, and considering these massive wolves each seemed to have the strength of a dozen shifters, that wasn't an insignificant number.
The daily attacks had left nerves frayed, mine included. The alarm sirens themselves had left nerves frayed, even though at the same time, they were somewhat of a comfort. After the first attack by the Stony Rapids and northern wolves, Grant had put hundreds of guards on towers all around the entire town, and it was good to know that we all would have warning at the first sighting of a single wolf, even if that warning was ear-splitting and nerve-rattling.
I was also thankful for the alarm sirens for a different reason. Without them and the warning to seek shelter they provided, I got the feeling that Grant wouldn't even be letting me outside like he was. And despite the wolf attacks, October in Sun Creek, with the many trees in brilliant shades of orange and gold, was far too pretty a thing to miss.
Right then, as the alarm sirens whined, drowning out early morning birdsong, the trees around the family cabin-mansion could only be described as gorgeous. Pale sunshine made their golden leaves, which swayed in a gentle breeze, actually seem to glow. I didn't spend even another half-a-second further appreciating their beauty, though.
After being startled, spilling my tea, and glancing down at my soaked top, I immediately turned and began dashing down the length of the wraparound porch to the side door. Grant had made me promise to seek shelter right away the moment the sirens blared, whether I was shopping in town, having lunch with Fiona at the little cafe table outside her art studio, or just enjoying the weather on the porch at home. I’d done so each and every time, and I wasn't about to change that now.
For one thing, I wasn't crazy about the prospect of being attacked by a wolf, of course, but even more importantly, more crucially, I was intent on continuing to rebuild Grant's trust in me. And intent wasn't even a strong enough word. I was positively hell-bent on it.
My tennis shoes thudded on the light oak planking of the porch as I ran to the door, echoing the thudding of my heartbeat. When the alarm sirens sounded, there was no way to tell how near or how far away the wolves, or wolf, that had caused the alarms were.
Sometimes the sirens sounded when a guard, peering through binoculars, spotted wolves approaching the city, maybe still a quarter mile outside. Sometimes the sirens sounded when Steven Ashcrest, flying high above the city in dragon form, spotted a couple of wolves a mile beyond city limits. Though sometimes, by the time a guard was able to spot the wolves and sound the alarm, the wolves were already inside the city.
My tennis shoes continued to thud on the oak planking of the porch until all of a sudden, they didn't. There was just the deafening peal of several alarm sirens, and nothing else, for what felt like a really long moment, while I tripped over a planter of yellow mums and briefly went airborne.
Then, several sounds joined the peal of the alarms at once. My tea mug, which I'd dropped, clattered on the porch; I landed on one of my knees and then my hip with a soft little boom; and I uttered a swear word loud enough that anyone standing near would have heard it above the alarm sirens, for sure.
I pulled myself up to sit on my rear, then hugged my knee, which was smarting a quite a bit, to my chest. "Dammit. Son of a bitch."
Whenever in distress or in physical pain, I'd always felt the need to swear a couple different times, just for good measure. Not very ladylike, I was sure, but then again, I'd never been very preoccupied with being a perfect lady.
I rubbed my smarting knee, wincing. "Damned mums."
It was my own fault I'd tripped over them, as I'd been the one who'd left them where they'd been that morning after planting them. I'd been meaning to take them around to the front of the house to join a few other planters at the front door, though I hadn't had the chance yet. I'd taken a break in my planting to enjoy a mug of tea. I hadn't planned on the alarm sirens going off in the meantime.
After rubbing my knee a little more, I righted the overturned planter, scooped up a handful of spilled potting soil, and dumped it back in with the mums. "Dammit."
Not a moment later, as I was beginning to stand, another sound joined the pealing of the alarm sirens. Though, this sound was a little closer, a little lower. However, it was still quite loud. The sound was a deep, throaty snarl.
With my heartbeat now hammering in my ears, I slowly turned my face in the direction of the snarl. And what I saw seemed to make my heart skip a beat. Just beyond the porch railing, not more than seven or eight feet away from me, stood one of the massive northern wolves, one even bigger than the one I'd killed in the yard the night all the Howell wolves had been killed.
I suddenly couldn't swear any more. I couldn't even swallow. My mouth had gone completely dry. I couldn't think. I couldn't move.
The enormous wolf snarled again, baring his long, yellowish fangs. That did it. It spurred me out of my fear and into action. If he thought he was going to attack me, if he thought he was going to even kill me, he had another thing coming. I wasn't the type to go down without a fight.
However, my fight at that moment was a little stronger than my common sense. I grabbed the heavy terracotta mum planter and hurled it at the wolf, only realizing after it smashed against the railing, that the railing was in the way. I normally would have paused to call myself a dumb-ass, but now wasn't the time.
I snatched up a very sharp garden spade that had been next to the planter and brandished it at the snarling wolf. "Try me, then. Just try me. But just remember...I already killed one of your pack members a few weeks ago."
Of course, that had been with my longbow. Which I didn't currently have. I'd also been in a third-story window. Which I currently wasn't. Didn't matter. At least not to me right then. I'd just make do with the weapon I had, which happened to be a very sharp garden spade. I'd slash the wolf's throat with it.
Still snarling, his yellowish-green eyes glinting in the sun, he began creeping back from the railing, intending to pounce over it and onto me, I was sure. I tightened my grip on the spade and held it aloft, intending to stab him when he landed on me or near me.
But just then, there was a noise that wasn't the wolf snarling. It wasn't the alarm sirens, either. Just a few feet away from me, it was the sound of the side door creaking open. It was immediately followed by Aunt Mil's voice.
"Oh, for God's sake. Just get in. You can't kill them all, you know."
Sometimes my hatred for the wolves really had a tendency to overshadow my logical thinking. This had certainly been one of those times, I now realized. The side door was so close. The moment I'd heard the wolf snarling, I could have scooted toward it, yanked it open, and fallen through the doorway to safety. My first tho
ught had been to meet the wolf's attack with a counter-attack. Of course. No wonder, given my anger at the wolves because of my history with them.
But now, my sensibility returned. Now, I scooted to the door, pushing myself up to stand at the same time. Not a moment too soon. Seeing that his opportunity was closing, the wolf pounced, long silvery gray fur rippling, and cleared the railing. But not before Mil grabbed me by the collar, yanked me inside, and slammed the door.
She locked all three bolts on it before turning to look at me with a sigh and a little shake of her head, rippling the long brown curls that framed her face. "I'm serious, Lila. You won't be satisfied until you kill every last one of them yourself, will you? Though with a simple garden spade, I have to say, that might be a bit of a tall order. Maybe leave the killing of the wolf shifters to Grant, Adrian, and the rest of the bear shifters."
I gasped, suddenly more terrified than I'd even been out on the porch.
"Please don't tell Grant I hesitated. Please don't tell Adrian, either. Please, Mil. I was literally running for the door when I tripped. I was keeping my promise to Grant. It was only after I fell, that I picked up the spade to defend myself. Yes, I was going to try to kill the wolf with it. That's only because once I was sitting on my rear, I guess I wasn't thinking very clearly. I didn’t feel like I had much of a choice but to defend myself from where I sat.
“But before then, I was doing exactly what Grant told me to do. I was focused on keeping myself safe and continuing to rebuild his trust in me."
Pressing her back against the door, Mil heaved a great sigh, and then gave me the tiniest hint of a smile. "I know. Don't worry, I know."
I heaved a sigh of relief myself, and the noise was closely followed by the sound of breaking glass coming from somewhere nearby.
Mil made a faint gasp, her face becoming white as a sheet. "Oh, God. I left the window in the family quarters open halfway. And Brandon and Martin...the boys are in there."
*
After Mil had made her admission about leaving a window in the family quarters open, I didn't waste a second. I knew the sound of breaking glass likely indicated that the wolf who'd been outside was now in the house. I wasn't about to let him touch a single hair on Brandon and Martin's heads.
I was still holding the very sharp garden spade, and I began charging out through the formal parlor to the family quarters with it. "Brandon! Martin! Hold on! Aunt Mil and I are coming!"
Mil followed close on my heels, running, but just as the two of us made it out to the family area of the ground floor, the two of us stopped dead in our tracks, Mil kind of crashing in to me. What had made us stop was the noise. The noise of a fierce shifter fight. Growling and snarling. Furniture being overturned. Howls of pain.
I stuck my head around the corner of the hallway and saw that the fight was just as fierce as it sounded. I recognized Grant, Adrian, and Samuel, all of them dark and enormous in their bear forms. Along with the bears, I assumed were the house guards that had been on duty that day, they fought the massive silvery gray wolf that had been outside.
While Adrian and one of the guards held him pinned on the dining room table, Grant, standing on his hind legs, slashed a mighty paw across his chest, sending jets of blood spraying in the air.
I didn't watch any more. I knew the wolf would likely soon be dead, and my main concern was locating Brandon and Martin and making sure they were okay. I scanned the family living area, immediately spotting the two little boys crouched behind a couch not too far away from the dining room table.
I knew there was a chance the great northern wolf could break free and harm them before the bears could pin him again. I had to get the boys to me and take them to safety in a different part of the house.
I caught Brandon's eye and held my arms out. "Grab your brother. Run to me."
Seeming almost heartbreakingly tiny compared to the brawling, growling shifters in the room, Brandon immediately did as he was told and began racing over to me clutching his brother's hand.
However, a few feet from me, he paused, turned to the action at the table, and fired a rubber-tipped dart from a toy dart gun he clutched in his free hand. The arrow hit the struggling, bleeding wolf on the table right in the eye, and he flinched, howling.
Brandon blew on the tip of his gun, his gaze on the wolf. "That's just until I'm old enough to shift."
With his voice coming out in a squeak, Martin pointed at the wolf. "From me, too!"
Though slightly irritated by their delay in getting to safety, I could not have possibly have loved the boys more. They had spirit and fight and a desire to wipe out the wolves that kind of reminded me of myself at times. I knew they'd both make strong, powerful bear shifters once they reached their teen years. I soon grabbed them both by the sleeves and began pulling them down the hallway to safety, helped by Mil.
It didn't take Grant, Adrian, Samuel, and the two house guards long at all to kill the wolf in the family quarters. Mil, the boys, and I hadn't even been sitting in the formal parlor a minute when Grant, Adrian, and Samuel ran in, all of them in human form now, all of them asking if everyone was okay. Mil and I answered in the affirmative, then Mil began shrinking back in her chair, her eyes filling with tears and her gaze on Grant.
"I'm so...I'm so sorry, Grant. I had the window half-open just for a little breeze, because I thought the boys needed some fresh air while they were playing in the family room, and then the sirens went off, and I knew Lila was on the side porch with her tea, and so I ran out, and...." Mil paused, her eyes not overflowing, but becoming even a bit shinier. "I'm so sorry, Grant. And you, too, Samuel. I put your boys in danger, and I'm so very sorry."
I hadn't known her that long, I'd never seen Mil get even the slightest bit misty before. She also wasn't one for overboard apologies or apologies that weren't absolutely necessary and justified, this I knew. So, I knew she had to be feeling beyond terrible about what had happened. Despite the fact that it really hadn't been her fault. It wasn't her fault that murderous wolves were attacking the town, and it wasn't her fault that she'd thought the boys had needed a breath of fresh air.
It also wasn't her fault that I'd been outside when the sirens went off, and it certainly wasn't her fault that her protective, caring nature had made her dash out to make sure I was okay. Additionally, it wasn't her fault that the house guards had been wherever they'd been at the time. Considering what could have happened, I definitely understood her inclination to apologize; however, at the same time, I didn't think she had a single thing to be sorry for.
Fortunately, Samuel and Grant seemed to agree with me. While Samuel scooped up the boys into his arms, his auburn hair glinting in a shaft of sunlight, he glanced at Mil and told her to hush, his voice thick with what sounded like complete forgiveness and tenderness.
Grant took her hand, pulled her up from her chair, and gave her a quick, tight, squeeze with his mouth near her ear. "What Samuel said. Hush, Aunt Mil. And just know that I'm very grateful for you making sure Lila was okay."
After releasing a sniffling Mil, who seemed to be stoically blinking back her tears, Grant came over to me and pulled me out of my chair and into his strong arms. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed the side of my face against his hard chest, inhaling his clean, woodsy scent. I always felt like I couldn't get enough of it. I also felt the same about Adrian's scent, which was similar, though maybe just faintly citrusy.
Over the previous several weeks, I'd begun to feel not only addicted to both of their scents, but both of them, period. I loved them both, and that love was beginning to run very deep for both of them. Both of them also seemed to have developed the same kind of deep love for me.
I'd thought that over time, my choice as to who I would pick to be my mate for life would almost make itself. I'd thought that I would simply develop stronger feelings for one brother over the other, and for a short while, that more or less seemed to be the case. I'd seemed to be more preoccupied with thoughts of Grant than th
oughts of Adrian, and my feelings for Grant had seemed to be stronger.
But while those strong feelings for Grant hadn't changed, my feelings for Adrian had greatly intensified to reach the same level. Now I didn't think I could choose which brother I loved more if my life depended on it. Which was, of course, a problem. Because I knew that eventually, I would have to choose. I dreaded it. I had no idea how I was going to do it. Not without breaking my own heart and the heart of whichever brother I didn't pick.
Over the previous weeks, no one had brought up the subject of me making a choice. Not Grant, not Adrian, and not Mil. Even Fiona, who'd I'd become very good friends with, hadn't even brought it up.
I knew everyone had been too preoccupied with the wolf situation to think about much else, but I also knew this likely wouldn't always be the case. Once Grant and his men were able to take out all the wolves for good, however they were going to do that, and once things in the city returned to some level of normalcy, I knew I'd be called on to make a choice. This made me feel just the tiniest bit grateful for all the havoc and distraction the wolves had been causing.
Simply Bears: A Ten Book Paranormal Bear Shifter Romance Collection Page 114