by A. D. Ryan
“Then have fun,” I said.
Nick didn’t seem too convinced. “What?”
“Have. Fun. I’m sure we’ll find something to occupy our evening in between waiting on you boys hand and foot.”
“It’s not like that,” he tried to tell me, his voice taking on that tone he used to dig himself out of a deep hole he’d dug.
Laughing, I placed a hand on his scruffy cheek. “I know. I’m only messing with you…kind of. Besides, you know I’d wipe the floor with you if I played.”
Nick chuckled. “There’s that selective memory thing again.”
Hanging with the girls while the guys did their thing turned out to be a lot of fun. While I’d originally thought that maybe all they did was bend over backward to make snack platters and serve them to the dining room for the guys, in actuality, we also played a friendly game of poker. Though, we bargained M&Ms instead of actual cash like the guys. That worked for me. Plus, Miranda offered up a really good Pinot Noir.
One person was missing from our little game, but I couldn’t say I particularly cared or even missed her. When Miranda asked if she wanted to join us, Roxanne just rolled her eyes and slammed her bedroom door. She stayed up there all night. This worked for me, because I felt like I was able to open up a lot more.
“So, tell me to stuff it if it’s none of my business,” I said, popping a chip in my mouth—apparently we couldn’t eat our winnings until someone was declared the winner. “But where’s the baby going to go? I mean, all the rooms are currently occupied, aren’t they?”
Layla smiled. “Actually, Vincent and I bought a place a couple minutes down the road. It’s close enough that we’re nearby if Marcus calls on us. It’s undergoing a few last minute renovations, but we should be able to move in by the New Year.”
The oven timer went off suddenly, signaling that the chicken wings were done. Miranda stood to get it, but I beat her to it. “Please, let me.”
I plated a few wings for us and set them in the centre of the table before taking a bigger platter out into the dining room. The guys were seated around the compressed dining room table with their beer and cards. There were poker chips stacked high in the center and Nick’s personal stack was looking a little pathetic.
“Here you go, boys,” I announced, walking toward Nick who was smiling wide when his eyes found mine. “Where do you want it?”
“Well, if you’re just going to offer it up,” Karl said from across the table, leaning back until he balanced his chair on two legs. The way his legs were spread apart suggestively and his hands rested on his thighs activated my gag reflex. Did he really think I would find that attractive or even remotely inviting? “Come on over.”
“Hmm,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him. “I’ve seen what you bring to the table, Karl, and I just don’t think you”—I shot a sly glance over my shoulder at Nick as I bent over the table to set the platter down—“measure up.”
Nick’s eyes traveled down over my backside appreciatively before he grabbed my waist and pulled me into his lap sideways. I played the gesture up with a giggle. It was getting easier and easier to pretend we were together. Sometimes, I forgot we were pretending at all.
Across from us, Karl let his chair fall back onto all four legs with a loud bang. Nick and I pretended not to hear it; his disdain was palpable and pungent.
“Are you ladies enjoying yourself?” Nick asked, his hand moving up and down over my hip.
I nodded. “Sure are. Plus, we’re not losing actual money. They play for chocolate.”
“Sounds right up your alley.”
I shrugged, wrapping my arms around his neck and looking at him innocently. “It’s my second-favorite thing to play for,” I said.
His eyebrows shot up and his grin widened. “Oh? And what’s the first?”
Smirking, I leaned in and whispered in his ear but loud enough for everyone—especially Karl—to hear. “Your clothes.”
“Sounds like a challenge for later.”
I shrugged again, looking back at his pitiful pile of poker chips. “Looks like it wouldn’t be much of a challenge for me,” I teased. “You’re on.”
“How do you know this isn’t all just a rouse?”
“Because I’ve played you before.”
Everyone, save for Karl, laughed, and Nick glowered playfully. “All right, I think it’s time you went back to playing for candy. Let the men get back to business.”
Sighing, I stood up and walked around him, leaning over his shoulder and kissing his cheek. “Take it easy on him, boys. Let him leave with a little dignity tonight. I’m the one who has to put up with him after all this.”
With a laugh, Nick reached around and swatted my ass lightly. “Get out of here, trouble-maker.”
“Have fun,” I taunted as I wandered back into the kitchen and rejoined my game. We played another few rounds before the conversation switched from fun and light-hearted to the impending full moon.
“Are you excited?” Colby asked, tossing three yellow M&Ms into the center pile. “About shifting?”
I hesitated, not sure how to answer that. “Honestly? I’m not sure how I feel about it.” The three of them seemed interested by this confession as they sat back in their chairs and listened raptly.
“I know I’m supposed to feel free and strong, but it still feels off to me. Like I’m stuck in a foreign body and I can’t make sense of anything. It’s almost like an out of body experience.”
Layla nodded along like she knew exactly what I was talking about. “It’s definitely disorienting at first,” she offered. “But it gets easier over time.”
I fingered the stem of my wine glass. “I sure hope so, because I hate how defenseless I feel. I mean, parts of it are great, and I love how it relieves the tension that builds inside me leading up to the moon, but I don’t feel like I could hold my own if it ever came down to it.”
Colby laughed, sounding like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You took down Karl,” she reminded me.
I looked her dead in the eye. “In this body.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, “but you took out a vamp…the vamp.”
I nodded. “Again, in this body.”
Silence filled the room before the fridge opened behind me and startled us. Karl stood there with a shit-eating grin on his face as he stared at us and blindly grabbed a couple beers from inside. “Sorry, ladies. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” There was something about the way he looked at me that unnerved me more than usual, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was or why it affected me this way.
Then something Nick said yesterday echoed in my head: “He’ll stalk you, so to speak. Learn your weaknesses, figure out when you’re most vulnerable… If anything, you’ve only poked the wolf.”
I sat there, terrified and stunned, wondering just how much he’d actually heard.
Chapter 12 | hunger
Early for the last four mornings, Nick and the rest of the guys had been sent out to check the perimeter. With over one hundred acres of land to survey, it wasn’t a quick run, either. Understandably, this was a daily chore Marcus implemented ever since that woman and the dead wolf were dumped on his doorstep. To busy myself, I helped clean up after breakfast each day, even after Miranda told me I shouldn’t feel obligated.
But I did. I’d been in the manor several days now, and I couldn’t stand idly by while everyone else earned their keep. It wasn’t right.
Colby and I had kept our midnight snack dates as well, and this brought the two of us a little closer. Miranda pulled me away the day before and actually thanked me for befriending her. Apparently it had been quite a trying year for Colby, and my companionship hadn’t gone unnoticed as her mood shifted. It meant a lot to me that I’d been able to make a bit of a difference in the wake of my own issues.
Tonight, Colby and I wouldn’t keep our date, though. Tonight, we would shift. The full moon had finally arrived, and I’d forgotten just how uncomfortable and anxious it m
ade me. The way I couldn’t seem to get comfortable, no matter what I was doing drove me to the brink of madness.
With nothing left to do after the kitchen was clean, and Nick not set to return for another couple hours, I decided to explore the house. I’d already been to a few of the more common rooms, but I decided to really explore now. Hopefully learning where everything was would keep my mind busy enough and off of my increasing anxiety.
I decided to start with the main floor, knowing that the upper floor housed nothing but bedrooms. I’d already been to the dining room, kitchen, and sitting room, so I decided to explore the other half of the house. There, I found the impressive library I had been told about, and I explored it. It was very much like any public library I’d ever been to, housing a wide variety of novels. There were classics and even a few first editions amongst some of the newer fiction. Along another wall were non-fiction novels. I wandered up the spiral staircase and was amazed at the unusual book selection there. Hundreds upon hundreds of books devoted to the supernatural world and the occult. Informative teachings, journals filled with past encounters with things I had yet to even learn about: witches, ghosts, demons…basically everything I’d always thought existed in movies and my imagination.
I pulled one in particular from the shelf and carefully thumbed through the pages. In it were documented accounts of run ins with non-Pack “strays,” a term used in the book and one I’d heard Nick use a time or two, as well. Some were pretty detailed in what these men—and a few women—did. Most of them had broken the cardinal rule of Pack Law and hunted and killed humans. Naturally, this resulted in their executions at the hands of the Pack.
Curious, I perused each case to see if I could find Nick’s name attached to any. No dice…at first.
Then I reached a new section of the text and found his name written next to an entry I already knew about: the nest he burned in Alaska. The fire in which my brother had perished.
I couldn’t bring myself to read it, even though I really did want to know the entire story and not just a brief account of it. I closed the book and replaced it on the shelf, telling myself I’d come back when I was ready.
After leaving the library an hour later, I wandered down into the basement. Through the house, I could hear Miranda doing laundry, Layla talking on the phone, and Colby was in her room, listening to some band I’d never heard of—or could even understand, for that matter. I suddenly empathized with my parents when they used to call my music “noise.”
In the basement there was a huge in-home theater, complete with three rows of seats and a wall-to-wall screen. It was impressive. There was also a huge game room with an extensive bar and only the most expensive liquors adorned the shelves. A pool table, air hockey machine, and a foosball table were spread throughout the room. You name it, and I’d bet this basement housed it. There was a huge wall-mounted flat screen on one end where I imagined sporting events were watched by the men—and who knew, possibly the girls. I enjoyed a good UFC fight from time to time.
Then, along the right wall of the game room, was a huge wooden door. It stood out from the rest of the house in that it was old and rustic looking, like maybe this house was built decades—maybe a century—earlier than the interior and exterior would imply. It was one of those doors made of heavy wood planks that rounded at the top. Thick strips of metal with huge bolts held it all together, and an old metal door handle was fixed to it.
The curiosity that had always plagued me—the one that pushed me to join the Scottsdale PD—propelled me toward the mysterious door. I pulled it open, inhaling deeply and recognizing several scents. They were mostly those of the Pack, but there was also the lingering smell of sweat and blood and old water.
I flipped the light switch to my left and descended the stone steps slowly, allowing my eyes to adjust to the flickering. Once I reached the bottom, my eyes scanned the room I was now in. It wasn’t like the basement above. Instead of running the full size of the manor, it was roughly the size of the foyer and sitting room combined. The walls were concrete, but this only made sense given the sub-subterranean location. A table sat in the middle of the room, old leather-bound books lay open on it, and there was a reading lamp there as well. I walked farther inside, noticing the barbaric-looking weapons that hung on the walls. I had started to wonder what this place was when I spotted a large cage in the far corner, hidden in the darkness where the light didn’t quite hit, and I immediately knew.
This was a dungeon.
Inside the cage housed an old-looking cot and a toilet similar to a jail cell. It was no five-star resort, that was certain.
Every Pack member’s scent lingered here. Some were recent—within days, maybe even hours—and some weren’t. I was curious as to why.
Stepping forward, I reached out and touched the cage, instantly recoiling when my fingers itched and burned upon first contact. I put my tingling fingers in my mouth, hoping to ease the sting, but it numbed my tongue a little as well.
“It’s steel, but we had it melted down with pure silver,” an authoritative voice said from the stairs behind me. Marcus.
“I’m sorry,” I said, ashamed that he’d caught me snooping around his house.
He only smiled, seeming unperturbed at finding me down here. “No need to apologize, Brooke. This is your home now too.”
When he joined me near the cage, I felt his calm radiating off of him. He really was okay with my being down here. “Wh-what is this place?” I asked.
“It’s likely what you suspected upon discovering it,” he replied coolly. “This is where we bring any strays who’ve broken Pack Law. Here we’ll assess their crimes and decide how to best handle each situation.
“Most can break through steel, which is why we had this one made. The silver, as you’ve noticed, keeps them from being able to touch it long enough to break out.”
I looked around the room, suddenly curious about the weapons again.
“Those are purely for show, I assure you. Though, they do tend to frighten most weres into opening up.”
“Most?”
Marcus nodded solemnly. “Some need a little more…encouragement.”
At first, I was slightly horrified, but then I thought back to my time on the police force and realized that sometimes you did whatever you had to do to get your confession, and you weren’t always proud of it. Sure, I’d never beaten the hell out of a suspect before, but there was a certain level of deception involved, which was probably the human equivalent of what happened down here.
“These rules,” I said, running my fingers along the hilt of a dagger. “Nick’s told me a little about them, but I’d like to hear them from you.”
Marcus leaned against the table and folded his hands in his lap. “Obviously, we’re to keep our existence from the human world.”
“What if a human were to find out by accident? Like if someone shifted in front of a human unintentionally.”
Marcus considered this and nodded. “Nick said you shifted in front of your partner before his death.”
“I did. So, what would have to happen if he had lived?” I was afraid of the answer, but my curiosity needed to be appeased.
“Some humans have kept our secret, but we keep close tabs on them to be sure. Other, less trustworthy, ones have to be disposed of,” Marcus explained.
“But, doesn’t that go against the cardinal rule of not killing humans?” I asked.
Impressed, Marcus regarded me with a smile. “A loophole to the rule. You’re quick.”
“Cop, remember?”
“Ah, yes.” There was a beat of silence between us before he continued. “Yes, it is also important that we don’t take human lives, but if our own existence is threatened, then it’s all about our survival.”
What he said made sense—it was messed up in a way that the human part of me still couldn’t quite accept, but it made sense to my wolf half.
“So, what about this mate thing?” I asked finally. “How does that usual
ly work?”
“Once a mate has been chosen and accepted, no other male can lay claim to her,” Marcus explained.
“But can they try?”
Marcus watched me before responding. “You’re concerned about Karl.”
“I’m concerned that he thinks I’m available, and I’m even more concerned about his actions as of late.”
“Karl knows the repercussions if he were to do anything to another male’s mate. Especially a fellow Pack member’s mate.”
“Does he? Because he doesn’t seem to be acting like he cares much about the consequences of his actions,” I informed him. “And Nick isn’t impressed.”
Regarding me with a smile, Marcus did his best to reassure me. “I’ll talk to him again.”
I thanked him, and then returned to my line of questioning. “Does everyone, even those not in the Pack, adhere to this set of rules? I mean you call it Pack Law.”
“Well, we’re not the only Pack,” Marcus explained, surprising me and piquing my interest. “There are actually several chapters throughout Canada, more in the US, and a few overseas. This makes it easy to keep tabs on the strays and ensure that they’re following Pack Law. They’ve each got their own territory to police, and the rules are in place to guarantee everyone’s safety and ensure our survival.”
“So, what happens if someone breaks one of these rules? You just lock them up here and rehabilitate them like prison?”
“Sometimes,” Marcus replied.
“But not always?”
“Not always,” he confirmed. “Each Alpha has their own way of dealing with things, but most have a set up similar to this one. And, depending on the severity of the crime, we may have to dispose of them.”
I pondered what this meant, trying to wrap my head around it. “So, you play judge, jury, and executioner?”
“When the situation calls for it, yes.”
“Have you ever brought anyone else down here? Anything else?”