Christmas to the Max (Dirt Track Dogs: The Second Lap)

by P. Jameson

  “Why did you say yes?” Rocco groused.

  Maxim smirked. “I know you won’t understand this at all, but one day when your woman gets this dreamy look on her face and asks if you can put up a fucking Christmas tree for the sole purpose of making love beneath it… I’d bet my rocks you’ll say yes.”

  Rocco scowled. “Yeah, fuck that.”

  He would see. Or… Maxim hoped the male would see. He wanted him and Jett to settle this thing between them. Neither was going to get Barb. She had her heart set on a human. But he hoped like hell, both of them would get the chance at something real, like what he had with Tabatha.

  Time to change the subject.

  “Did Lexington and Aaron get settled?”

  “Yes,” Jett nodded. “The human was scented and the vixen was recognized… but no one confronted them. Probably coming though, so we should keep an eye on the situation.”

  “I still don’t see why I had to give them my cabin. I’ve been rooming with Jett long enough and his place smells like pickles and popcorn. Was looking forward to my own damn bed. And now, I’ll probably have to have it replaced because they’re definitely going to fuck on it. Those two are another level of clingy.”

  Maxim struggled not to roll his eyes. “We’ve been over this. Your cabin is closest to mine and easier to protect. Besides, I doubt they’ll fuck on your bed… probably everywhere else though.”

  Rocco scowled, opening his mouth to answer, but Tabatha exited the bedroom interrupting him. “I’m ready to go. How far is it to the store?”

  Rocco and Jett looked at each other before both turning to Maxim, barely holding back humorous expressions.

  “Well, see. There’s not so much a store.”

  Tabatha frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “We don’t have a store, mate. We have a storeroom.”

  “A storeroom? But, where do you buy food and clothes and you know… toilet paper?”

  “We go down the mountain for bigger items,” Jett explained. “We go to the storeroom for food and essentials.”

  Tabatha stared between the three of them. “What is it, like a community pantry.”

  Jett cleared his throat to cover a laugh. Rocco stared at her like she had three heads.

  Poor mate. This was like another world to her.

  “No, stormy. It’s a supply house but we trade for goods.”

  “Trade what?”

  “Depends,” Rocco said, tossing her a lecherous smile. To which she rolled her eyes.

  Maxim liked the way she handled him. He was hard to swallow on a good day, but Tabatha rolled with his smartass comments like a pro.

  She fit right in with them. The idea gave Maxim a kernel of satisfaction. And he needed that after his mother’s reaction.

  “Lots of thing can be traded,” Maxim told her. “But you’ll be trading money. So it will feel like a real store.”

  “Oh. Good. Okay.”

  “Sort of,” Jett added.

  “What do you mean?”

  He lifted a shoulder in a cool shrug. “The selection might not be what you’re looking for.”

  She narrowed her gaze on them all. “Are you guys trying to derail my holiday decorating plans?”

  Rocco nodded unashamedly.

  Maxim shot him a hard glare.

  Jett held up both hands, whistling low. “Wouldn’t dream of getting in the way of whatever all that entails,” he said. “Just giving you a heads-up.”

  “Hm. Well. I can make it work. I guarantee it. If there’s one thing I’m good at—”

  There was certainly more than one thing.

  “—it’s definitely making something out of nothing. Let’s go.” She headed for the door, purse slung over her shoulder.

  “Not so fast, mate.”

  She turned, raised eyebrow questioning.

  “You’ll have to take Rocco with you. I have to meet with the guard and figure out a plan to keep the bears off our land.”

  Maxim felt Rocco’s angry gaze swing to him. “Why can’t Jett take her?”

  “Because. I need Jett with me. He knows the bears better. And besides, you need some… what do they call it…”

  “Christmas spirit,” Jett answered.

  “Yes, Christmas spirit. And my sweet mate knows all about that.”

  Tabatha nodded, an excited grin on her face while Rocco’s fists pumped angrily.

  “Let’s go, Rocky.” She swung her arm through his and dragged him to the door.

  “Rocky?” he mouthed over her head, eyes wide and suddenly fearful.

  Maxim pressed his lips together so he wouldn’t laugh.

  ***

  The angry roar in the meeting hall grated on Maxim’s nerves as he stood upon his father’s raised octagon throne in the center of the crowd of males. It wasn’t a throne in the traditional sense. More of a platform than a seat. Because an alpha didn’t sit, according to their customs. An alpha always stood, and stood the tallest.

  He looked down at his people. They glared and sneered. Some banged their fists on the walls. The crowd consisted of mostly guards, but other warriors came too, to hear what Maxim had to say.

  Unfortunately, none of them liked what he had revealed.

  Jett stood at his feet, facing the crowd, arms crossed stubbornly. “Quiet down,” he barked.

  They already discussed the extra security at their boundaries, and how to proceed if the bears attacked again.

  And they would attack again. It was only a matter of time. They knew the alpha was mortally wounded. They would strike at the time of most likely success, when the people were mourning.

  But the skulk would be ready for them. Maxim had a plan.

  First, he needed them to accept his mating. Otherwise, what he hoped to achieve wouldn’t work.

  “Quiet!” Jett bellowed again.

  When the furious roar of the warriors faded to grumbling, Maxim spoke.

  “You can be angry that my mate isn’t what you expected. You can even hate me, her… us. But you will respect her place here. Is that understood?”

  “Or what?” one called out. Axl. One of the many males of the skulk who aspired to one day leading the foxes. “You’re not alpha yet. What will you do?” The male bowed up his chest, throwing off all sorts of dominant vibes.

  No, Maxim’s fox responded, and he was glad the animal was talking to him again. Make him bow.

  Well, shit. He’d known it would probably come down to a fight. He just didn’t think it would happen on his first day back.

  Letting a growl vibrate the air around him, Maxim shrugged off his leather jacket and let it fall to the floor before stepping to the edge of the octagon.

  “I’m acting alpha until my father is gone. That means you follow my orders.”

  Axl’s jaw went hard, fists pumping for a fight. “What if I don’t want to?”

  Maxim glanced at Jett. Neither of them had been expecting a challenge so quickly. But here it was. No getting around it.

  Shit.

  Maxim faced the hound, letting his dominance flow out of him, powerful and demanding. Some of the males nearby whimpered, resisting the urge to bow.

  “Do you wish to challenge me for the position, Axl? Say the word, but know it will be your fucking last.”

  Goddamn it. Not a soul in this room knew how badly Maxim wanted to be done with spurs. Not one of them knew who he was inside. No one knew except his mate. And he would do anything to protect her. Right now, that meant drawing a firm line in the sand that none of them would cross.

  Axl threw down his weapons and they clattered on the cement as warriors cleared the floor for a fight.

  Maxim caught Jett’s grim gaze as the hound backed away from the octagon. He would take care of Tabatha if anything happened, but Maxim wasn’t worried. He knew Axl’s strength, and it wasn’t that of an alpha’s.

  Because of that, Maxim probably wouldn’t kill him today to make his point.

  He crouched low, waiting for Axl to say
the words. Waiting, waiting…

  “I, Axl Derrin, challenge you for alpha. I issue a spur.”

  Maxim nodded, narrowing his gaze on the male. “I accept. Let it be done.”

  And before anyone could hope to stop them, two snarling foxes clashed together in the middle of the hall, thirsting for blood.

  Thirsting for death.

  Chapter Nine

  Tabatha walked along the snowy sidewalk, taking directions from her newest friend, Rocco the Grouch. The storeroom was close enough to walk he’d said, and they would blend in more.

  Blend in. Almost like he didn’t want to be seen with her.

  Hm, well. Maybe she’d just have to break him of that.

  The village streets were the same as when they’d rode in. Quiet and empty except for the occasional shifter hurrying into their home or peeking from a window. Even still, it was a beautiful place with stone sidewalks and lots of evergreen trees. The perfect place to celebrate Christmas… if it weren’t for the fact that everything felt closed off. Walled up.

  Like their hearts, she thought.

  They stopped in front of a large brick building. There was no signage to indicate where they were, but on the heavy wooden door hung an OPEN sign.

  “This the place?” she asked Rocco.

  His grudging response was a nod.

  Tabatha marched up to the building, ready to introduce herself to whoever was inside. She was anxious to meet another of Maxim’s people. His mother’s response was cold, but it didn’t mean everyone would react to her that way. She only needed one ally in this strange place, and then maybe she could be of use to them.

  She knew how much it meant to Maxim to fix his skulk. She wanted to help him succeed. And not just so they could get back to Cedar Valley. It was like he needed to make amends of some sort. As if he felt he owed his people before he could go on with his life. And if it was that ingrained in his heart, she wouldn’t let him fail. Couldn’t let him.

  Pushing into the building, she realized it was split into two sections by a wide hallway with entrances on both sides. She started for the one on the right. Peeking through the entrance, she saw shelves upon shelves of… weapons?

  What was this, an armory?

  Before she had a chance to ask, a large muscular man stepped into the entrance. He stared at her with dark, intense eyes and after drawing in a long breath, he scowled, crossing his arms over his broad chest so that he looked like some kind of sentinel. As if the place needed protecting.

  From her.

  “Not there,” Rocco said, jerking his head toward the other entrance.

  “What is the meaning of this?” the big man asked Rocco.

  “Just getting some supplies. Come, female.” Rocco was using his rough voice. The one she was quickly coming to know was especially for seeming mean.

  He pulled her toward the other entrance and the big man followed them inside the other half of the building.

  The area was filled with shelves of food and other necessities, warehouse style, stacked high and haphazardly. There wasn’t much organization, but Tabatha was sure she could find someone to help her get the things she needed to make the cabin homier.

  Heading for the front, she found a small, red-haired woman crouched over a counter, reading a book. She was so engrossed in whatever it was that she didn’t even notice Tabatha. And she didn’t have a chance to because the big man from the armory cut in front of her, putting himself between Tabatha and the woman and completely blocking her view.

  “Nash, what are you—” The woman’s confused voice stopped suddenly when a low growl rumbled from the man’s chest.

  “We don’t serve humans here,” he bit out, glaring hard at Tabatha.

  Ouch.

  His words hurt. Physically hurt. Like a slap to the face.

  And she did what she always did when someone made her feel unworthy. She pushed her shoulders back and lifted her chin. Bold. Be bold, Tabby.

  “My name is Tabatha Baker.” She held out her hand politely for him to shake, but he ignored it. “I need some supplies to get us through the holidays. I have money to trade.”

  “How did you get past the gates?” the big man… Nash, asked.

  “Rode right through on a bike,” Rocco answered sarcastically. “Enough with the third degree.”

  Nash turned his furious gaze on him. “This your doing? You bring a human into our village when we are most vulnerable? What were you thinking?”

  “Nash,” the woman’s soft voice tried, but neither him nor Rocco were listening.

  “You gonna help us out or what? She needs Christmas shit.”

  “No,” barked Nash. “We don’t serve humans here. And you need to get her out of town before alpha hears of this.”

  “Alpha doesn’t care,” Rocco spat. “He’s fucking dying. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll get us what she needs. Now.”

  Nash stiffened. “Is that a threat, hound?”

  Tabatha rolled her eyes. Why, oh why, was every conversation between shifter men like this. Bossy things. She wondered if they realized how ridiculous they sounded when they were unable to have a normal, calm conversation.

  “Not a threat,” Rocco said, giving Nash a shit-eating grin. “Just the truth.”

  “Look, I don’t want any trouble,” Tabatha interrupted. “I just need some—”

  “Humans. Are. Not. Allowed on our land. Get her out of here.”

  Rocco shook his head. “Not happening, asshole. She’s mated—”

  Suddenly the tension in the room rocketed to explosive levels and Nash roared, “You mated a human?”

  “—to your future alpha,” Rocco finished.

  The place fell weirdly silent and Nash looked like he’d taken a shot to the gut. The red-haired female peeked around him, her eyes looking guarded.

  “No.” Nash shook his head. “No. Maxim would never mate a human. He was given Seraphina.”

  God. These people were determined to blow apart all of her fragile confidence, weren’t they.

  “Seraphina is mated to someone else,” she explained calmly.

  But Nash refused to acknowledge her. Instead, he scowled at Rocco.

  “So he settles for this… this…” Nash flung his hand in her direction, not finishing his thought.

  “Scent her if you don’t believe me. She’s got Maxim all over her.”

  Settled, Nash had said.

  Settled.

  Maxim didn’t settle for her. He chose her.

  Didn’t he? He would have chosen her even if Seraphina wasn’t already taken. Right?

  Yes. Yes.

  It was true, and what this angry man said was just ignorance.

  Tabatha swallowed hard, trying desperately to ignore the pain in her chest. The doubt. The fear. She’d thought it was all gone, that being with Maxim had cured her. But there was still some left. And it hurt. Shit, it really did.

  “It’s true,” the other female said. “Her scent is human and shifter.”

  “Goddamn it,” Nash cursed. But Tabatha detected something more than just anger in his tone. There was something deeper. Something like fear and hopelessness. Something about her mating Maxim had him feeling defeated.

  “What is it you need?” the female asked carefully. Her eyes were the strangest combination of green and blue, and it took Tabatha a few minutes to realize that each eye was a different color. One the blue of ocean water and one the green of a glade. If you glanced too fast, the effect was something close to aqua.

  “Uh…” Tabatha glanced at Rocco for help.

  “Food, for one,” he answered. “Start there.”

  “Food. Yes, food. Of course.”

  The female stepped out from behind the counter, ignoring Nash’s snarls. “This way,” she said, ushering Tabatha toward the back of the storeroom. After grabbing a basket, and slinging it over her forearm, she murmured, “You probably need meat. Eggs and Milk. Bread. What else?” She quickly plucked the items from the re
frigerated section along the wall and then turned back to Tabatha expectantly.

  “Oh, um… chocolate? I’d really like to make my mama’s cookies. So, sugar and flour. And popcorn. Need that for the tree.”

  Nodding, she led Tabatha down an aisle.

  “I’m Sela, by the way. And don’t mind my mate. He’s not usually so…”

  “Judgmental?” Tabatha filled in for her.

  Sela tipped her head in thought. “But lately he’s been uh, worried about our people. I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about us.”

  “I have, yes.”

  “You come from the place our vixens ran away to, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  Baking ingredients went into the basket, followed by the popcorn. And Tabatha noticed some wine on a nearby shelf so she added that too.

  “Maxim went to find Sera, and came back with you. I figure, he must have found you there and issued some kind of spur. It’s the only way you could be his mate. What else do you need?”

  “Do you have any holiday decorations?”

  Sela frowned. “No. We don’t celebrate around here.”

  “Oh. Why not?”

  “I… don’t know. Just not something we do. We don’t put a lot of emphasis on birthdays or anniversaries either.”

  “But there’s no reason why you can’t, right?”

  She shrugged. “No. Guess not.”

  “You should do it this year.” Tabatha grinned. “I could help if you want. I love decorating. Just point me in the direction of anything that’s red and green, and I’ll turn it into a Christmas decoration.”

  “We have apples.”

  “Yeah, apples are good.”

  Sela got quiet as she led Tabatha to the apple bin. After they’d picked several of each color, she spoke up again.

  “Can I ask you something personal?”

  Tabatha frowned, unsure what to say.

  “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. But I need to ask…”

  “Well… okay.”

  She tossed a package of red and green straws into the basket.

  “Were you forced?”

  “Forced?”

  Sela nodded. “To mate, were you forced against your will?”

  “Oh! No. No, not at all.”