The Grant Wolves Box Set

by Lori Drake

  “He’s already trying to kill us,” Joey pointed out, then nudged him and leaned in closer to whisper, “Maybe we can distract him, buy some time while Adam works on the phone situation.”

  “Maybe. Should we wait for the others to get back?”

  “Nah. Eric would just get all growly about it being a waste of time. This way, we’re killing time.”

  “Let’s hope that’s all the killing that occurs.”

  “That’s the optimistic Ben I love so much.” Stepping forward, she raised her voice to a conversational level once more. “Hey, Lucy, let’s just do this on the floor and let Adam have the table.”

  Joey settled with Lucy on the floor in front of the fireplace, kneeling with the board on the floor between them.

  “We need candles,” Lucy said, looking around with a frown. “They always have candles for a séance in the movies.”

  Joey bit back a smile. “We’ve got the fireplace. I think that’s the best we can do at the moment.”

  Lucy bit her lower lip, but nodded reluctantly. “Okay. So, we both have to put our fingers on the planchette. Just resting lightly, okay? No cheating.”

  Joey nodded gravely and reached out, touching her fingers to the edge of the plastic piece in the center of the board. Lucy followed suit. “Now what?” Joey asked.

  “Now you start to question the course of actions that led you to this point,” Adam mumbled.

  “Shhh!” Lucy shot her brother a tiny glare, then cast her gaze upward. “Roger! Roger Eaton! We beseech thee, speak to us.”

  “Um, you know this specifically says not to use the Ouija board in a quote, ‘place where a terrible death has occurred or you will bring forth malevolent entities,’ end quote,” Jessica said, reading from a printed paper in her hand.

  “He didn’t die here!” Lucy protested.

  “It came with a safety warning?” Joey asked.

  “It did,” Jessica confirmed. “And just so you know, don’t ask about God, where the gold is buried, or when you’re going to die.”

  Adam snickered.

  Lucy sighed, but continued. “Roger! We know you’re angry with us. Talk to us. Tell us what we can do to make things right.”

  Joey turned her attention back to the board. Nothing happened, not that she’d expected it to. She sat there quietly while Lucy called out a few more times to the shade. Joey was about to lift her hands and throw in the towel when a phantom breeze blew through the room. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention. She looked up at Lucy, whose eyes were wide as saucers.

  “Roger! Roger, is that you?”

  The planchette twitched under Joey’s fingers, startling her enough that she yanked her hands away. Lucy’s remained in place, however, and the planchette slid slowly across the board until it hovered over the painted “yes.”

  “Okay, even knowing that ghosts are real… that’s creepy as fuck,” Joey said. Lucy shot her a look, so she clamped her jaw shut after that and put her fingers back on the planchette.

  “Roger,” Lucy said. “I know you’re mad at us. I can’t say we’re sorry, but we don’t want you to suffer anymore. Tell us what we can do to help you find peace.”

  The planchette twitched again. This time, Joey quelled the instinct to yank her hands away and kept them where they were. The planchette shook until it was practically vibrating, then jerked toward the row of letters arched across the board.

  “D,” Lucy said. “I. E.”

  “This is going nowhere fast,” Jessica remarked. But when Joey looked up, everyone was watching the proceedings intently. Even Adam.

  The soul of patience, Lucy continued conversing with the dead man. “I think you’ve made that wish pretty clear, Roger. But is there anything else? Joey says you had a wife. Would you like to get a message to her?”

  The planchette moved again.

  D. I. E.

  “I don’t think she’d appreciate that very much, but if that’s what you want to tell her…”

  D. I. E.

  “Listen up, you undead fuck,” Jessica said, scowling. “You were a goddamn hunter. You killed our people. We killed you. You had to know that one day we’d get the better of you, so get the fuck over it!”

  Silence descended in the wake of her rant. The planchette remained inert as everyone stared at it. Seconds ticked by. The log in the fireplace popped, and Joey jumped. But it was nothing supernatural, just a burning log doing what burning logs did. A few more seconds passed before the planchette moved.

  “I,” Lucy said.

  Joey stared at the board, watching as the planchette twitched from letter to letter, moving so sharply that it nearly slipped right out from under her fingers.

  Lucy continued reading the letters aloud.

  “N… N… O…”

  17

  The next thing Chris knew, he was on the ground. Weight held him against the cold earth, and the scent of dirt, decay, and blood all but overwhelmed him. There was a moment, a horrible moment, when he thought it was the weight of the earth crushing him, but no, there were trees overhead and the sounds of the woods filled his ears, along with the labored breathing of the two men pinning him down.

  “I think he’s back,” Brandon said. “Chris, is that you?”

  “Yeah,” Chris said. His throat was raw, voice hoarse. The disorientation passed swiftly, but he was left with a lingering sense of wrongness, of violation. In that moment, he vowed never to possess someone without their permission again. “I owe Dean a fruit basket or something.”

  “What?” Brandon said.

  “Nothing. Let me up.”

  The weight on his arms and chest lifted. Chris pushed himself up into a sitting position. Pain lanced his side. He pressed a hand against his ribs, suspecting one was cracked, if not broken. Everything ached, but at least he didn’t feel like he’d been clobbered upside the head again. Brandon knelt on one side of him. On the other side, Eric sat back with a hand pressed to his lower back. His lips and chin were red.

  “What happened? I mean, obviously Roger got me. But are you guys okay?”

  “Fine,” Eric said, then spat blood into the dirt.

  Brandon said nothing. He looked shaken, and was the first to stand. He collected his pocket knife from the ground and wiped it on his sleeve before folding it up and tucking it in his pocket again.

  Chris struggled to his feet, teeth clenched. Pain pushed the breath from his lungs, and for a moment he swayed on his feet, not entirely sure if he was going to remain upright. His vision swam, then corrected as the pain subsided enough for him to think again.

  Eric was on his feet again too. “Let’s get moving before he comes back.” He bent to retrieve one of the shovels. Brandon, who was moving better than any of them despite having taken that shovel to the spine earlier, retrieved the other one and handed it off.

  Chris walked over to the tarp-shrouded body, but when he bent down to reach for the tarp, pain flared again. “Shit, I don’t think I can…”

  “I’ve got it,” Brandon said. He bent and collected the body, tossing it over his shoulder as if it were no more than a rolled-up carpet, and started walking back toward the house.

  “Thanks,” Chris said. He and Eric followed in Brandon’s wake. As they walked, Chris wondered what he’d done that had freaked Brandon out. Then again, the whole incident was pretty freaky, and Brandon had done a stint as a meat suit for Roger too. Maybe he felt bad about stabbing Eric and whatever else he’d had to do while Chris was checked out of Hotel Martin. He hoped Joey had been able to retrieve her phone and get in touch with Dean. They needed to end this, before someone else got hurt.

  When Lucy finished calling out letters, Joey spoke the word aloud.

  “Innocent.”

  Jessica scoffed, but everyone else sat quietly, staring at the board.

  “What are you trying to say?” Joey asked, casting a glance around the room at large. She had a brief flash of memory of trying to talk to Chris through Dean, knowing he
was there but not where he was. She wished Dean was there now.

  When there was no answer, Joey decided to try a simpler question: “Were you a hunter?”

  The planchette jerked immediately across the board and stopped abruptly on its target.

  “No,” Lucy said. Her pale blue eyes were wide as she looked across the board at Joey.

  “Did you kill Micah?” Jessica asked.

  The planchette didn’t move from its spot, but it began to vibrate under Joey’s fingers. Then it jerked across the board again, spelling out an answer.

  Lucy translated, putting the letters together into a question. “Micah who?”

  “Shit,” Joey said. “Shit, shit, shit.”

  “That doesn’t mean anything,” Jessica insisted. “He could be lying, and even if he’s not, not knowing Micah’s name doesn’t mean he didn’t kill him.”

  The planchette flew out from under Joey and Lucy’s fingers to sail through the air. Jessica ducked, and it went over her head, smacked against the wall, and hit the floor with a clatter.

  “Christ.” Joey pinched the bridge of her nose.

  “Does that mean what I think it means?” Adam asked.

  “You killed an innocent man,” Ben said.

  Itsuo grimaced. “That is bad karma.”

  Lucy buried her face in her hands. The others were obviously shocked. Everyone, that was, except Jessica. Annoyance colored her features, and Joey zeroed in on her as she pushed to her feet.

  “You knew.”

  All eyes turned to Jessica, who blinked. “What? Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Then what is it? You don’t look shocked or remorseful. You look like you want to punch someone.” Joey walked over to stand in front of her.

  “Are you volunteering?” Jessica asked, standing. She towered over Joey by half a foot.

  “Go on and try it. See where it gets you,” Joey said. She may have been shorter, but she held the other alpha’s gaze. Like Eric, Jessica was used to the wolves around her backing down. Joey wasn’t about to do that.

  “Stop it,” Itsuo said, rising from the floor. “Infighting will only divide us.”

  Jessica glared down at Joey for a few seconds more, then stepped back. “I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at Eric. He lied to us.”

  The words sent ripples of discontent through the room, but as unpalatable as the suggestion was, no one jumped to defend their Alpha. Joey’s eyes lingered on Jessica’s, searching. For what, she wasn’t sure. Some hint of deceit, or a confirmation of innocence, perhaps. As for whether Jessica’s assumption was on point, she couldn’t say for sure. As much as Joey didn’t want to think Eric could do something like that, she wouldn’t exactly put it past him. Still, there was no reason to get everyone riled up unnecessarily.

  “Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Joey said, and the air of disquiet in the room settled back down.

  “What do we do now?” Lucy asked in the quiet that followed.

  “Nothing’s changed,” Joey said. “We still have a vengeful spirit to deal with, and he wasn’t very forthcoming about what he might want besides killing everyone. Adam, how’s that phone coming?”

  Adam turned back to the array of electronics across the coffee table. “I need more time.”

  “Didn’t your friend say Plan B was awful for a spirit?” Lucy said.

  Joey nodded. “He did.”

  “We can’t do that to him.” Lucy’s blue eyes were wide. “He’s suffered enough.”

  “He may not have killed Micah, but he sure as shit killed Kate.” Colt spoke up for the first time, and his words fell across the room like a pall. A simple truth that no one could dispute.

  Joey walked across the room and crouched to retrieve the planchette from where it’d landed under a side table. She brought it back over to Lucy. “See if he’ll talk some more? We’ve got some time to kill.”

  “I’ll help,” Jessica said, and moved over to kneel across the board from Lucy, taking Joey’s spot. That was fine with Joey. The whole experience gave her the heebie-jeebies.

  While Lucy and Jessica tried to make contact with Roger again and Colt went back to staring into the fire, Joey drew Itsuo and Ben aside.

  “How long have you known Eric?” she asked Itsuo, keeping her voice pitched low and hoping the others were too distracted to care about eavesdropping.

  Itsuo tipped his head. “Thirty-five years, give or take.”

  Ben’s brows shot up. “I thought you were new to the area.”

  Itsuo’s lips quirked in a small smile. “Newly returned to the area, technically.”

  “Ah, I see,” Joey said, keeping an idle eye on Lucy and Jessica. “So, you weren’t here when Micah was killed.”

  “No, Josephine-san.”

  “But you were here for…”

  He nodded. “The hunt, yes.”

  Joey looked off toward the others, nibbling her lower lip. She hesitated to ask what was on her mind, but of all of them, she felt like Itsuo was the most likely to give her a straight answer. “Do you think he knew?”

  “That Roger wasn’t the one?” Itsuo asked, lifting a brow.

  Joey nodded, studying his face. He gave little away, only shrugged.

  “It is possible. Eric… has never had much respect for the sanctity of life. When he came to Seattle, he was a very angry man. A lone wolf, who protected no one but himself, no one’s interests but his own.”

  “It doesn’t seem like much has changed,” Joey murmured.

  “It has. Somewhat.”

  “What do you mean?” Ben asked, folding his arms.

  Itsuo glanced between Ben and Joey. “He may seem selfish to you, but he protects his people. Enough that he is willing to go to… extremes.”

  “How is loosing a pack of wolves on a hapless human protecting anyone?” Joey asked. “If Roger didn’t kill Micah, whoever did is still out there, and if it is a hunter…”

  Itsuo cast a glance in Jenny’s direction, hesitating.

  “What?” Joey asked.

  Itsuo sighed. “If Eric is to be believed, there have been more hunters in this region in the last twenty years than there have been in nearly a century before.”

  Joey exchanged a glance with Ben. “Are you saying he blamed Micah’s death on a hunter, when that wasn’t what happened at all?”

  “That’s… beyond bad,” Ben said.

  Itsuo spread his hands. “It is within the realm of possibility. No one knows, I suspect, but Eric.”

  “What about Jessica?” Joey’s eyes slid toward the woman in question. She still didn’t trust Jessica. Not after what Jessica had done to Chris, even if it had supposedly been in the name of protecting him. She was too close to Eric. She’d been his second in command for over a decade; she had to know at least some of his secrets.

  “Jessica believes what Eric tells her and rarely presses him for more than that, but she’s not blind,” Itsuo murmured. “Not entirely.”

  Joey mulled this over while Itsuo excused himself and resumed his silent vigil by the couch. If his suggestion was on point, Eric hadn’t merely pinned Micah’s death on the wrong man. He’d falsely blamed a hunter for it too. But why?

  “Penny for your thoughts,” Ben said quietly.

  Joey met her brother’s eyes and shook her head. “Not worth even that much, I’m afraid.”

  He let it go, but the tension failed to ease from Joey’s shoulders. Now that the seed had been planted, its roots wormed deep into her brain.

  What if Eric had cried wolf to cover up Micah’s death?

  18

  Chris sat on a chair brought in from the dining room, sans shirt, while Ben examined the worst of his wounds. He stiffened when Ben’s fingers prodded his sore rib, inhaling sharply. Joey hovered nearby, charmingly worried. She’d taken one look at him when he walked in the room and called for Ben. Despite everything that’d happened, she still knew him better than anyone else.

  “Is it broken?” Joey asked.

  “Hard
to say without an x-ray, but I suspect it’s at least cracked,” Ben said. “He’s awfully tender. How long ago did this happen?”

  “I’m not sure, maybe five minutes? Ten?” Chris said. He grimaced and glanced over at where Eric and Brandon stood nearby, looking on. Eric’s other eye was blackened now. He looked like a raccoon. Chris wondered if he’d done that while under Roger’s influence, and if it was a bad thing to hope was true. Brandon wasn’t obviously injured, but he had an uneasy look about him.

  “Something like that,” Eric said.

  “What happened?” Joey asked, though she was shooting accusatory glares at Eric. To be fair, he was the most likely suspect.

  “Roger possessed him and he had to be subdued,” Eric said.

  “Did you have to subdue him so hard?” If looks could kill, they would’ve had another corpse to contend with. Joey was cute when she was angry, as long as the anger wasn’t directed at Chris. Okay, she was cute then too.

  Realizing his mind was wandering, Chris said, “I’ll be fine. It was rough out there, is all.”

  Joey huffed, but let the subject drop.

  “Lift your arms up over your head?” Ben asked.

  Chris did so, but only got his left hand up about level with his head before pain shot through his side and he had to lower it.

  Ben observed this and nodded. “Can you breathe okay?”

  “Yeah. I mean, my chest feels tight when I take a deep breath, but…”

  “No wheezing, rattling, or coughing up blood?”

  “No, none of that.” The question reminded Chris of the blood Eric had been spitting up in the woods, but he seemed okay for the moment.

  “Good, then you didn’t puncture a lung,” Ben concluded. “Still, you need to be careful. Take it easy for at least an hour while it sets. I’ll wrap it up.”

  Joey stepped in close and laid a hand on Chris’s bare shoulder while Ben went for his medical bag. He reached up with his good hand and squeezed her fingers. She squeezed his shoulder. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.

  “So, did you get in touch with Dean?” Chris asked, tipping his head back to look up at her.