The Alpha's Choice

by Jacqueline Rhoades

  Drunks? She hadn't thought of drunks. She'd been thinking more along the lines of falling asleep at the wheel. Oh, God, never mind drunks on the road. What if he never made it out of the parking lot?"

  Kat knew she was borrowing trouble, but she couldn't help it. Restless, she began what Jo called ghosting around the house, wandering listlessly from room to room without purpose or direction.

  When she found herself at the far end of the second floor hallway where the children slept, she quietly opened the door to the girl's room. They were fine, sleeping peacefully; Forest curled up in a tight fetal ball and Meadow sprawled across the bed amidst the pile of stuffed animal her Auntie Jo had purchased.

  The boy's room held no surprises either. Ranger and Dakota were sound asleep and River was gone. Kat was already overtired and anxious and River's absence put the proverbial icing on her distressed cake. She became angry, so angry that she failed to notice Dakota and Ranger were now sleeping in separate beds.

  River had crossed the line. She would no longer keep his secret or turn a blind eye to his wanderings. She plopped into the overstuffed chair in which he usually slept, crossed her arms over her chest and settled in to wait. She would wait there until he returned and confront him and tell him in no uncertain terms that he was to stop his midnight meanderings.

  It was all perfectly planned except the culprit never came home.

  * * *

  Kat awoke with a start to find an upside down face staring into hers.

  "It's okay. She's awake," Dakota croaked as he stepped back and righted his head.

  "What time is it?" Kat asked groggily. She rubbed her hands over her face and combed through her curls with her fingers.

  "I dunno," Ranger shrugged, "Whatever time it is we get up."

  "Shi…sha…shoot! Charles!" What did he think when he found an empty bed? "Where's River?" she asked impatiently.

  "I dunno." This time it was Dakota. "He gets up before us sometimes."

  "I'll just bet he does." She'd also bet he came home, found her asleep in the room and made himself scarce. "You boys be good and get dressed. Then go to the kitchen for breakfast. I'll be down shortly."

  Kat ran to the Master bedroom. The bed was as she'd left it, neatly made with three throw pillows arranged at the head. Kat turned and flew down the stairs to the kitchen, stumbling over her untied robe as she went.

  Half the people in the house were already there, filling their breakfast plates to carry to the dining room.

  "Has anyone heard from Charles?" she asked and heard the panic in her voice.

  "Isn't he home?" someone asked and Kat was saved from saying something she would regret when the phone rang.

  She pushed Hyatt, in the process of answering it, aside.

  "Hello?" It had to be the police or the hospital. It had to be something bad.

  "Hey kitten. I was expecting Mrs. Martin to answer."

  It was Charles, sounding disgustingly chipper and obviously unharmed. The tension she'd been carrying exploded.

  "Don't you kitten me you idiotic, fool of a furry asshole," Kat shouted into the phone and then looked around shame-faced at the kitchen full of people staring back at her. "I didn't mean that," she told them.

  Jo snorted a laugh. "Oh, we've called him that lots of times, but the part about getting our throats ripped out keeps us from saying it aloud. Hyatt's called him much worse."

  "I have not!"

  Jo waved him off. "Keep going, girl. Whip his furry ass."

  "I know you didn't, kitten," Charles was saying on the other end.

  "The apology was for them, not for you. For you, I meant every word. Where the hell are you? I've been worried sick." And not just about you, she thought, but didn't say.

  "I'm still in the city. We finished up so late last night I decided to spend the night. I didn't want to wake you."

  "Oh yes, because it's so much better to wake up in an empty bed." She wasn't going to tell him that she'd never gone to bed. "You didn't answer your cell," she accused.

  "I forgot it. It's on the charger in my office."

  "I had you splattered on the road somewhere by some drunk driver, shot in some parking lot for your snakeskin boots, flattened by an eighteen wheeler while you bent to change a tire. That was a terrible, terrible thing to do to me, beasty boy, and I've been half out of my mind."

  "Guess you love me, huh?" Charles chuckled.

  "Yes, but I'm thinking of changing my mind. When are you coming home?" She was pouting. She knew it. She didn't care.

  "Before midnight," he told her and before she could say a word, he continued, "That's the best I can do, kitten. There are some contacts that need finalization and the client wants to meet for another working dinner. I shouldn't be too late. As a matter of fact, I promise I won't be too late. If I'm not home by midnight, you'll have reason to worry."

  "No. If you're not home by midnight, you'll have reason to worry." She wasn't ready to let go of the anger.

  "Kitten?"

  "What?" she asked impatiently.

  "If I died, you'd feel it in your heart, a gut wrenching pain," he told her gently.

  "Oh." Most of the anger drained out of her. "I didn't know."

  "I love you, Katarina."

  "I love you, too, but you still should have called. You could have been stuck in a ditch or semi-flattened by that truck."

  "You're right."

  "Damn right."

  "All right, damn right," he laughed, "Now that that's settled, will you find Hyatt for me."

  "He's right here." She handed the phone to Hyatt.

  "What a way to start the day, huh?" Jo crowed, "Hearing the boss get beat up by a hootchie cootchie dancer."

  The others laughed and Kat looked down. Her robe was wide open and framing the bright pink nightie that barely covered what it needed to. She dragged the robe shut and belted it as she stomped out of the kitchen waving her hand over her head.

  "You can all go to hell for all I care, every damn one of you. Wolvers, bah!"

  The crowd behind her laughed harder.

  * * *

  Her worry over Charles alleviated, Kat turned her concern to River. She questioned the children repeatedly until she was sure they were telling the truth. They didn't know where he was. They didn't know where he went. But she was also sure they knew something, because they all acquired the same closed look they had when they arrived.

  Kat called it their us-against-them look and it said, "Keep your mouth shut. Don't cooperate. Protect each other at all costs." They were a mini-pack unto themselves and River was their leader. Kat wondered if they would ever be able to transfer that loyalty to the larger Wolf's Head Pack or if River would always be first in their minds and hearts.

  She was still half convinced that he'd come home during the night and found her sleeping in his chair, knew he'd been found out and was either making himself scarce or had run off again to avoid questions and consequences. If that was the case, Kat was confident he would return sooner or later. He was as attached to the children as they were to him.

  Sooner passed and later arrived and there was still no sign of River. By the time the school day was over, Kat's concern had turned to full-fledged worry. She was still, however, reluctant to voice her fears to anyone else. They would feel obligated to tell Charles and she didn't want to see the wounds between them reopened over something so simple as teenaged stupidity.

  She began to ask, surreptitiously, if anyone had seen him. No one had, but everyone assumed he was with someone else, even Mrs. Martin who always had her finger on the pulse of the house.

  "He's been working with the road crew and taking his meals with them."

  She even told Kat where the crew could be found, but River wasn't with them.

  Jo didn't bat an eye. "I haven't seen him all day, but then again, I haven't seen Ryker either. You want to find River, find Ryker. They've become joined at the hip."

  Ryker was alone. "Haven't seen him. Check with
Mrs. Martin. She was talking about fencing in her vegetable garden to keep the rabbits out. Buddy can't do that alone."

  Buddy was the only one that showed some concern. "He was supposed to help me, but I guess he forgot. I ain't mad at him, though. He's got a lot on his mind."

  "Has he said something?"

  "Nah, he don't talk much, but that's okay because he says I can do the talking for the both of us. It's how he looks, Miz Kitty Kat. That's how I can tell. He looks off into them trees and his face gets all hard and ugly like Mama's does when she's had it up to here." Buddy slashed his fingers across his throat. "I don't ask no questions when Mama's had it up to here." He gestured again. "And I figured I'd be wise not to ask River no questions neither."

  It said a great deal about the teenager's recent behavior that no one found her questions suspicious. Those first few weeks, they'd watched him like hawks, sure that he would bolt. Now, he'd become so much a part of the fabric of their lives, the thought of him running away never crossed their minds. He was a member of the pack.

  When suppertime came and there was still no sign of River, Kat knew she had no choice. She told the others everything.

  "He'll be back," Hyatt said with a confidence Kat no longer felt. "I used to take off now and then when I was his age."

  "But you always told Dad where you were going and when you'd be back," Jo argued.

  "The poor boy could be lost or hurt," Stephanie offered which was something Kat feared, but hadn't voiced and she was touched by the woman's concern until Stephanie added, "I thought you were in charge of the children."

  There was that pleased feeling again and this time, Kat thought she knew why. Stephanie was pleased that Kat might be blamed. The damned woman couldn't put aside her own interests for a minute.

  "This is just what we need on top of everything else," Alex grumbled.

  The discussion went on for several minutes until Ryker spoke. "He's not lost. He's too wood wise and I don't think he's run off unless Kat's right and he knows he's been caught and is too stubborn or afraid to come home and face the music. In which case, I'd take the odds that he's hunkered down someplace close. My biggest fear is that he's been injured or…" He shrugged, unable to say the word.

  It was a small consolation that no one had heard any gunshots during the night.

  Chapter 39

  Kat felt useless and totally responsible. Whatever had befallen River was her fault. She should have told Charles immediately, the very first night she discovered River's nighttime excursions. Charles and the others would have known how to handle it best. At the very least, she should have talked to River, questioned him and made him promise to stop. What made her think she could handle these children, these wolver children, on her own? She'd only just learned that these beings existed. What made her assume that she knew how they thought?

  She was alone. The others were gone and the house echoed with their absence. They were all out searching, the women in cars and trucks, the men on foot and that was made more difficult because of Charles' absence. They could cover more territory more safely as wolves, but that was impossible with their Alpha so far away.

  Even breaking the speed limit and driving recklessly fast, it would still be two hours before he arrived and Kat feared what she would see in those beautiful green eyes. This was her fault.

  They'd called him and Ryker reported what had happened clearly and concisely with no judgment in his voice. Right now, everyone's main concern was River, but once he was found, however he was found, the judgment would come and it was what she deserved. This was, after all, her fault.

  She'd sent the children to their rooms, with directions for Forest to see that they all went to their beds. It was still early, barely dark out, and their silent acquiescence was testament to their own fears and concerns.

  "We'll find him," Kat told them as she kissed each goodnight. "Everything will turn out all right," she said and they looked at her as if they knew it was a lie. In their world very little turned out right.

  Tilda was in her room where she claimed to be napping and she'd advised Kat to do the same. "You'll be no good to anyone if you're dead on your feet. You've been up for almost two days. You'll hear the phone if it rings, though I reckon they'll send someone back if there's news." Cell phones were spotty at best in the hills.

  So Kat was alone with her thoughts and her guilt. She stared out the window of the schoolroom, willing the tall thin body of a teenaged boy to walk across the field with his head hung down, remorseful and repentant. She didn't care where he'd been or what he had done. Kat just wanted him home. Home with the pack where he belonged.

  The reflection of four children in the glass had her turning around. They stood in a line and there was no mistaking the guilt on their faces.

  "Tell her Forest. You're the oldest. Tell her," Ranger urged, obviously not wanting to be the bearer of the news.

  That alone told Kat it was serious. Ranger was usually eager to tell everyone's news.

  "You know where he is." Kat made it a statement.

  "No ma'am. We didn't lie," Forest said carefully, "But we know what he's looking for and Meadow knows how he gets out. She followed him once."

  Dakota started to explain in a rush. "We wanted to tell, but River said…"

  "That's not important now," Kat interrupted, "What's important is you tell me what you know. What was he looking for?"

  "The hide."

  "The hide?"

  Ranger nodded his head. "Them."

  Kat looked to Forest for the translation though she thought she knew.

  "Them. Where we came from. They've done it before, pretended to be a man and his wolfdogs. It looks like they're trained, see? They move in on a human pack's business and pretend to help. The wolfdogs are used as…" Forest looked to the others for the word she couldn't find.

  "They kill people," Dakota said in a matter of fact way that was frightening.

  "And listen real good to find out who to rob," Ranger added.

  The others nodded their agreement. The wolvers disguised as highly trained dogs were used for enforcement and spying. Men would talk freely in front of a dog.

  "Then when things go sour or there's money enough, they take it and move on," Forest finished.

  "And none of the humans can complain because what they were doing was illegal in the first place," Kat concluded.

  "They don't leave any humans to do any complaining. You don't want anybody recognizing you the next time you come round." Dakota looked at the others and shrugged as if to say, "Somebody has to say it."

  "How does he get out?" Kat asked Meadow. She kept her voice smooth and soothing even though her heart was thundering in her chest. "Can you show me?"

  Meadow looked to the others and when they nodded their encouragement, she took Kat's hand and led her to the cellar door.

  Kat had never been down in the cellar and had taken Tilda's word that it was as cold and dank as an old stone foundation could be and was only fit for spiders and other crawly creatures who spent their lives in the dark.

  Cautiously, with her hand on the child's shoulder, she followed Meadow down the rickety stairs and the warning she had called as a girl came to mind.

  "Don't go down those dark, drafty cellar stairs in the middle of the night with only a candle to light your way, you idiot!"

  Kat stopped and turned back. "Ranger. Go get a flashlight from the kitchen drawer. Make sure it's one that works." The boys and Meadow loved to run around in the dark chasing each other with the beams. They went through batteries faster than ice cream.

  She didn't wait until the faint light from the open door disappeared. She hit the flashlight's button as soon as it was securely in her hand.

  The cellar was much smaller than she thought it would be and judging by the fallen shelves was probably once used for winter storage. Something scurried over her foot and she jumped.

  Behind her she heard Dakota stomp and croak happily, "Gotcha."

&nbs
p; Kat didn't ask what he'd got. Meadow led her across the room, sure of her direction and pointed to and old pie safe that had been pulled out from the wall. The opening in the wall was crude, made by removing the irregular shaped stones of the foundation. Hinges were affixed to the wall, but the door was long gone. Kat shined the light inside.

  It was not a secret room, but a passage cut from the earth and shored up with rotting timbers and stone. Someone had built this to smuggle goods or whiskey or the human cargo of slaves long, long ago. From where she stood, Kat could see it slope deeper into the earth. The flashlight's beam could not reach its end.

  "You children go back now," she ordered and pointed to the pale light hovering over the stairs. "Forest, I want you to wake Mrs. Martin and tell her where I've gone. She'll alert the grownups." They all nodded, but didn't move. "Go on. I'm only going to the end of the tunnel. If River was hurt, he might have made his way back here and the sooner I find him, the sooner he can get help. You've done a wonderful job, but now it's time for you to go back upstairs."

  They reluctantly left her and she waited until they were on the stairs before she ducked into the entrance and began to walk.

  The passage was narrow. Kat doubted two men could walk abreast. It was not straight forward as she had first thought. It zigzagged through the earth. The floor was hard packed earth and the walls, once neatly framed with wood and stone, were crumbled in spots with tree roots reaching their gnarled fingers through the opening to reclaim what was rightfully theirs. Chunks of stone littered the path along with the skeletons of long dead rats and mice. Kat winced as one of them crunched beneath her feet.

  She alternated between shining her light ahead and lowering it to the ground at her feet and twice, she shined it behind her when she thought she heard a noise. But there was nothing and she thought perhaps all the rats and mice weren't dead. The thought gave her no comfort.

  She passed a spot where the wall had completely collapsed, evidence of her greatest fear; somewhere along its length the tunnel had collapsed on River.

  Long minutes passed as Kat moved as quickly as she could. The floor began to slant upward and there was still no sign of the end or of a collapse. How far had she come from the house? She rounded yet another corner and she could see a ladder propped against the end wall. She had reached the end.