Emily tore down the stairs and out to the driveway that ran by the side of the house. She stopped beside her RV and had a quick look around the yard for Norm. He was nowhere to be seen, probably back inside opening up his store for the afternoon. She wanted him well out of the way.
The paintwork on the side door of her RV was scored around the handle. Her blood boiled even harder. Luc was destroying her beloved RV piece by piece.
Carefully, she approached and peered in through the crack of the open side door. There, on the nest of grubby blankets, lay an equally grubby Luc, curled up into a ball. She was naked and snoring. Her mouth was open, and the pink of her tongue trembled against her teeth. She looked pale and unkempt. Emily could only surmise she had been on the run since she had last seen her, and that this tatty RV was perhaps her last hope, her last sanctuary. Emily swung the door open with a resounding crash and leapt on the reclining figure.
“You bastard! You stole my things!”
*
“I sort of knew anyways.” Mouse sucked on her lower lip, concentrating on her feet as she and Jolie walked through the forest.
“Yeah. I suppose it wasn’t much of a secret.” Jolie tried to let herself off the hook. She still felt awful that she had been the one to reveal the truth to Mouse. She supposed it was to be Ren’s job at some point, but in Jolie’s opinion, Ren was doing a very shoddy job when it came to rearing Mouse. The child was half-wild, and not in a good wolfie way, but in a street punk, child mugger type of way. At least Mouse wasn’t as hung up on high tech gadgetry like most of the kids back in Portland were. So how do we talk about this? Should I even attempt to?
They walked along, both kicking up dirt and leaves with their bare feet.
“Why does the pack want to hurt her?” Mouse asked out of the blue.
“Ah. Well.” What would Hope do? “They don’t want to hurt her. She’s sick and they need to find her quick. Okay?” Jolie said, remembering Hope had said something similar.
“Has she got the same virus that killed Patrick and the others?”
“Um. Um” This was hard. Jolie decided to stop stalling. If she were in the kid’s place, she’d want the truth. And they were from the same pack after all; they were family, and that had to mean something. “Yes, I guess so. But this time Marie’s involved, and she’s pretty damned sharp when it comes to medicines and stuff. She used to be a doctor before she became Alpha.” She snaked her arm around Mouse’s shoulders. “If they find her in time, at least your mom will have a fighting chance. That’s more than the others did.”
“But she’s running away from them. She’s scared they’ll blame her.”
“Blame her for what?” Jolie frowned. She had only breezed in near the end of this saga when Hope and Isabelle were already safely returned to the Garoul compound, and Mouse and Joey were everyone’s heroes. It had been too late to blow off steam. No one cared that Jolie had her mate stolen. Hope had handled it all with great aplomb, but that did not stop Jolie from having nightmares for weeks afterward.
“Blame her for what Patrick did. He’s the one who grabbed me and Hope,” Mouse said.
“Oh?” Jolie said. This was news. It put a whole different slant to the “touch my mate and you die” thing she had going on with Luc. Jolie could feel a sulk starting and battled it down. She wanted Luc to be the baddie. She wanted to be angry with her and Ren, but she also wanted to hear more of Mouse’s story.
“He started ordering everyone around when Ren left, but we just laughed and then he grabbed me and took me away to a cabin and locked me up with chains and he had his own pack, but they were stupid.” Mouse barely drew breath. “They all got bad guts, but Patrick had it in the head. I knew because his eyes were all red with goo coming out.”
“Lovely.” Jolie grimaced.
“Plus he was talking crap, but Patrick always talked crap.”
“Hey! Language.”
“Joey says crap.”
“Joey needs a good nip on the ear talking like that around you.” Sheesh, what was Ren thinking of? These kids needed taking in hand.
Mouse laughed at that. “I nip Joey’s ears all the time. He’s silly.”
“So,” Jolie tried to keep Mouse on track. “You think Patrick did all those things because he was sick?”
“He was mean even before he got sick. He was bossy.”
“Did he want to be Alpha?”
“Patrick an Alpha?” Mouse snorted. “He’s too crap. His pack was crap, too.”
“I told you. No more bad language.”
“Okay.” Mouse didn’t look the slightest bit bothered.
Jolie gave up on the cussing lecture and tried a different tactic. “You know Patrick’s dead, right?” she said as gently as she could.
“Yeah. Luc killed him.” Mouse perked up. “I heard Ren tell Marie what she did, and I bet it was ’cause he hurt me. He stole me from Singing Valley and she never knew. I bet she killed him ’cause he was bad to me and way too sick anyway.”
So much for pricking her conscience. Mouse had the hard snout of the Garouls through and through.
“Why didn’t Luc just tell you she was your mom?” Jolie asked, though she suspected the question would have been better asked of Ren. Why had she and Luc both kept it from her?
Mouse shrugged. “Dunno. I saw her all the time. She never lived with us, but she came nearly every day to teach me how to hunt and do stuff. We had fun. She’s the best hunter ever, and builds the best nests. I built a nest in our barn out of hay. Joey said hay is for horses, not Weres, and I said we had no horses so I could sleep in it if I damn well wanted to.”
“And don’t say damn either.” Jolie had no wish to talk about nests; she hated them unequivocally. Besides, they were fast coming up to the outskirts of Lost Creek and her stomach was grumbling louder than a grizzly. She took hold of Mouse’s hand and guided her to the edge of the tree line so they could skirt along it and into town. Jolie knew roughly where she wanted to go, toward the west side where hopefully Johnston’s General Store was still in business and still served food.
They padded along a side alley then out onto a dusty sidewalk. The streets were empty. The houses ran in rows, and all had blank windows; most with the shades pulled against the afternoon light. The only vehicle Jolie could see was a small orange RV parked far up ahead, near the woods. It rocked violently from side to side, which she found strange but was in no mood to investigate. It was the only sign of human activity in the otherwise tranquil afternoon. There was no one else in sight, and Jolie was thankful for it.
The store door opened with a cheerful tinkle. Jolie’s eye level was higher than the store shelving, and a quick glance around ensured they were the only patrons in the place. Behind the coffee counter, an old man sat fiddling with the radio, trying to tune in a sports station. His nose was almost touching the dial. He looked up as they entered only for his face to fall into a scowl when they were not who he had been expecting.
Jolie led the way over to the counter where she and Mouse slid awkwardly onto the high stools.
“What’ll it be?” the old man asked, squinting at them suspiciously.
“Two Cokes, and what sandwiches do you have?” Jolie said. A refrigerated stand was wordlessly pointed out to her. She retrieved a selection of sandwiches and set them before Mouse, who pulled the wrapper off the nearest one and took an enormous bite.
“You passing through?” the old guy asked, still glaring at them through what Jolie could only imagine to be a mist of myopia. He seemed fascinated with what they were wearing, and squinted hard at her overalls. Jolie couldn’t really blame him. They did look rather hillbilly.
“Yeah.” She took a large mouthful of sandwich and decided to play dumb.
“Where’s your vehicle?”
“We’re walking.”
He seemed to consider this. “Hiking? Where’s your gear?”
That was more awkward, but Jolie was on her second bite now and concentrating on the joy o
f actually eating. “With friends.”
“Who’s your friends? Anyone local?”
“Yeah, local.”
He paused, waiting for more information. When it didn’t arrive he said, “Well? Who? Are they from Lost Creek?”
“Near here.” Jolie wished he would go away and let her eat in peace.
“Where then?”
“Little Dip,” Mouse piped up.
Jolie frowned. There goes my digestion. The kid knew nothing about the bad feeling between Lost Creek and Little Dip, and Jolie was annoyed she hadn’t thought to school her on the way over.
“You mean that witch place?” The old guy’s face darkened.
“What witches?” Mouse asked with great interest. Jolie began to shove the unopened sandwiches into her pockets and reach for the wallet. It was time to go, and not a moment too soon.
“Them Garouls are all witches.” He wagged a finger at Mouse who scowled back at him. “There’s no good goes on out there.”
“That’s crap,” Mouse said.
“Why you little brat—” he began, but the click-clack of paws distracted them all from the ugly scene for a split second.
“Taddy!” Mouse cried, and jumped off her stool to hug the little dog who appeared around the corner. He was in a little green tartan coat with a matching collar, and gave a delighted bark to see her. His tail went into overdrive.
“Wilbur. Come here, boy—Hey! That’s my wallet. Hey!”
Crap! Jolie threw the loose bills, wallet, and all at him and grabbed Mouse by the arm. “Run!” she yelled.
“Hey! Stop! Those are my clothes!”
“Keep running.” She was dragging Mouse behind her, and behind Mouse came the excited click-clack of Tadpole as he ran to keep up with them.
“Hey! That’s my dog!”
They burst out into the bright afternoon. Jolie kept her death grip on Mouse’s arm and hurtled down the street to the side alley they had come in by. From there they headed for the cover of the trees. Jolie pulled them deeper into the forest for another fifteen minutes before she stopped to draw breath. Luna! What a bucket of crud. But they were safe now.
“Taddy. What have they done to you?” Mouse was on her knees beside Tadpole hugging him half to death. “I thought we’d lost you forever.”
Jolie took a deep breath; her nerves were shot to pieces. She looked at the dog in his jaunty tartan coat and couldn’t believe her luck. They had found him, and in the oddest of places. Luna only knew how he had ended up at Johnston’s General Store, but Jolie didn’t care. She had rescued him and now they could all go home.
Chapter Twenty-one
“You hairy little shit!” Emily lunged.
Luc barely had time to open her eyes before Emily was upon her. She struggled to get away, not that there was anywhere to go. The RV was cramped enough with only her inside it, never mind a psychopath. To make matters worse, she had transmuted back to human form while asleep and was now very vulnerable to attack. She tried to scrabble toward the back of the RV, but Emily grabbed her by the stupid silver collar and nearly garroted her.
“Stop that!” she gasped. “You’re choking me.”
“Good. You damn well deserve it.” Emily started to shake the collar until Luc thought her head would drop off. “I should have choked you ages ago when I had the chance,” she ranted. “I should have poisoned you like a rat. I should have left you under the mud like the evil slug you are.”
Luc twisted around and grabbed. She had to fight back or be beheaded. She wrapped her arms around Emily and pinned her to the floor. “Stop throttling me.”
Emily stopped throttling and bit her instead. Luc had to admire her resourcefulness.
“Stop that, too.” Luc flinched as her shoulder felt the imprint of Emily’s teeth. She seemed so unreasonably angry, and something else. A something Luc couldn’t help but respond to. Her skin flushed and her heart rate increased. She liked the bite despite her protestations. It tingled through her; her senses were swamped with the smell of Emily and the heat of her wrath. Luc was used to people being angry with her. She never allowed it to annoy her. She couldn’t afford to. But this was different. Emily was a squirming bundle of irritable, passionate, righteous anger, and it was hot!
“What’s got your craw?” Luc growled, and found she was holding on tighter rather than trying to shrug Emily off.
“Let me go.” Emily tried to wriggle free.
“No. You let me go,” Luc countered. She liked the situation now that she had Emily under control. She rolled her onto her back and lay on her with her full weight. “You put this stupid collar on me, and you can take it off. I’m going nowhere until you do.”
“If you were looking for the key then why did you steal all that other stuff from my house?”
“You’ll get it back.” Luc knew her answer wasn’t satisfactory. To be honest, she wasn’t certain why she had this urge to steal from Emily’s den. She just knew she did. It excited her. She liked decorating her nest with bits and bobs that belonged to Emily, that smelled of her or reminded Luc of her in some way. Luc knew it was weird and obsessive, but she couldn’t help herself. It felt good and she didn’t want to think too hard about it. Emily intrigued her. Luc knew she was acting on instinct, but so what? She had always done whatever she wanted to do. She was feral. She answered to no one! If she wanted to steal stuff from Emily’s room, then she damned well would.
The bite mark stung. Emily lay looking up at the welt on Luc’s skin, somewhat affronted that she had caused it. Luc wriggled her shoulder to stretch out the pain and clicked her teeth. She wanted Emily to bite her some more. She wanted to teach her all about biting. About the patterns teeth could make on a lover’s pliant flesh. The crescent moons and rows of tiny bruises, the stars and sickles all raised and lumpy, or maybe soft and swollen, wet with spittle or seeping beads of blood. The pupils of Emily’s eyes were eclipsing her flat gray irises, darkening her gaze and pulling Luc into their depths. Her skin was clammy with small beads of sweat glistening on her upper lip. She was upset, but curiously not frightened. Luc could smell that off her. There was confusion, but no fear. A slight tremor ran along the length of her body where it pressed against the weight of Luc’s. Emily moistened her lips and Luc felt her own heart lurch in response. It fluttered irregular and weak like a wounded bird. Her chest tightened and then released, and she sucked air forcefully into her deflated lungs. She lowered her head and placed her mouth on Emily’s mouth. She would be careful with this seduction because she wanted it so much. She would be gentle.
“Fuck!” she yelped and pulled back. Emily had bitten her again. She touched her bruised bottom lip. Emily bucked her hips, trying to bounce her off while she was distracted by this newest affliction. She managed to pull her arms free and mesh her hands in Luc’s long hair, twisting huge hanks of it into her fists.
“Hey. I was being nice,” Luc complained, trying to wrestle Emily back under control, her seduction plans temporarily aborted.
“A lettuce could kiss harder than you,” Emily said, and tugged harder on Luc’s hair.
Luc paused, uncertain she had heard right. Emily tightened her hold and dragged her down into a kiss that would wither lettuce on the stalk, that would crystallize ginger and implode chilies and burn sugar and melt Luc Garoul like summer Popsicles.
“Why are you doing this?” Emily broke their contact and left Luc floundering. Her head swam with the intoxication of their kiss. She was stupid on it, so how then was Emily so cool and in control?
“Is this some sort of trick?” Emily continued to demand in a tight, thick voice.
Trick? Luc could barely focus. “I was under the impression you were kissing me,” she said. Trick. She began to flare up. How dare this woman accuse her of trickery? Emily had been the one who had trapped and tricked her. She was the one who had chained them both with this damned collar. Luc would be in Canada by now but for Emily’s interference. Thievery was one thing, but trickery? This woman
had more tricks than Halloween.
“You have some nerve.” Luc’s thoughts popped into some semblance of order. “The last thing I need is to be hanging around here stealing your panties with those Garoul bastards breathing down my neck.” She felt Emily’s fingers toying with the nape of her neck. “You’ve been nothing but trouble.” Her touch was silky cool and gave Luc a delicious shiver all over her body. “I mean…You’re the one who’s been manipulating me.” Her head dropped to kiss along Emily’s jawline. “I mean…I mean, look at what you’re doing to me now.” She trailed her lips to the well in Emily’s throat and rested on the thumping pulse. “You’re pitiless. Who needs this?” Her fingers twitched, fighting the urge to dig her nails into Emily’s flank and mark her. Her kiss on the fluttering pulse deepened, she became hungrier, more demanding. She laved the pulse point with the flat of her tongue. Below her, Emily shifted and moaned. Her fingers meshed in Luc’s hair to massage—
“Ouch!”
Emily twisted Luc’s hair around her fists in great hanks and pulled. She rolled them over in the tight confines of the RV floor until she was on top. She looked very determined, and once again, Luc found herself struggling to keep up with her through a fog of lust and little else.
“Are you going to change?” Emily asked.
“Into a werewolf or sexy lingerie?” Luc answered. That got her an extra tug on the hair and she yelped. She liked Emily’s bitchiness. It was kind of cute.
“Werewolf. Are you going to change into one and go crazy and bite my head off?”
“No. I’m going to stay right where I am and go crazy.” Her hands snaked under Emily’s top and found the warm flesh of her belly. Luc was already naked, but she burned to feel Emily’s skin next to hers. She began plucking and pulling at Emily’s clothes. “Are you going to change and get naked?” she asked.
Silver Collar Page 14