The Cougar's Pawn

by Holley Trent

  “Are their children shifters?”

  “Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Just depends on which parent contributed that bit of X-chromosome that makes us shifters and not plain-old humans. There’s genetic testing for it, but it’s expensive, and you have to send off for it. It’s not the kind of personal business you want your local lab knowing about.”

  “Has Belle taken it?”

  “Yeah. She’ll probably have shifter kids. Dad conveyed the genetic marker to her. That’s why she has to be careful with who she dates. She’ll have to settle down with someone who’s already tied into our world or who she’ll think will be open-minded enough to accept it.”

  Open-minded.

  Ellery wondered at what point the witches in her neck of the woods had stopped being so open-minded—when they’d tried so hard to be mainstream and integrated that they’d culled out anything about them that made them unique and distinguishable.

  She’d recently asked Grandma Della if that was the goal of modern witchcraft—for the old magic to fade away altogether—and she’d feared the woman would slap her for asking, just based on the look she gave Ellery.

  “He’s going to eat his shirt if you don’t give him a little more,” Mason said softly.

  “Hmm?” She looked up.

  Mason tipped his head toward Nick who’d eaten the few items on his plate.

  Ellery put a few more cubes of food onto it.

  “I’m glad he’s eating,” Nick said. He cut his ham into large chunks and speared one with his fork. “Every time I thought about taking him to the doctor about the cold, Jill showed up and took him back. I wasn’t sure if it was anything urgent care could tend to.”

  “Probably not.” She picked up her knife and cut her sandwich in half. It would have been too hard to hold otherwise.

  “I had no idea how … inconveniencing kids could be until I had one. It’d be easy if they came out able to walk and hold their own forks, but that’s not the way we evolved.”

  “Kids are not inconvenient. If you don’t want him, I’m sure someone else does. I’ll take him.” The words came out a little sharper than she wanted, but she wouldn’t apologize for it. She sighed and took a bite of her burger.

  Mason narrowed his eyes at her. “I never said I didn’t want him.”

  “You think he’s inconvenient.”

  “I don’t think he’s inconvenient. I crave the upheaval he causes in my life, and it happens far too infrequently, in my opinion. I’m lucky to have him a week out of the month, and I never know what week it’s going to be or if it’ll even be a whole week. Yeah, I have to shuffle my routines to make him fit, but I signed up for that the day his mother told me he existed. It’s not me he inconveniences, Ellery, but the people around me.”

  “Your family?”

  He shook his head. “No. My so-called friends. Other Cougars who think I’ve lost my edge and want to challenge me over it. Potential lovers. They see him as baggage.” He’d lowered his voice to a whisper. “Something they have to either put their blinders on about and ignore, or something they’d have me sweep away.”

  “Maybe you’ve been trying to sleep with the wrong people.”

  “Have I? I’m pretty sure I tried to sleep with you, though I can’t be sure. The cougar was in my brain’s driver’s seat this morning.”

  Huh. That explained his sudden increase in likeability. “You did. And the reason I didn’t had nothing to do with Nick. In fact, he may be one of your few redeeming qualities.”

  Mason leaned back in his seat, agape.

  She took another bite of burger and stared out the window at the slow-moving traffic.

  “Is that what you Southerners call a backhanded compliment? I’m so confused. I don’t know how to feel.”

  “Yes, that would be one.”

  “Kinda hurts. I’m glad you like my kid, but I’d like you to like me a little, too.”

  “Maybe I’d like you a lot if circumstances had been different.” Shut your stupid mouth. Sometimes when it started running, she couldn’t believe what fell out of the damned thing. The worst part was that she still hadn’t told a lie.

  “What would ideal circumstances be? Tell me. Maybe I can fix it.”

  “No way, buddy-roe. I’m not making this easy for you. And besides, I don’t think you can.” She hoped he couldn’t. That way, she wouldn’t have to try so hard to find reasons to say no to him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Mason didn’t spend a whole lot of time shopping for groceries. Mostly, he called in a regular order and the store had it waiting when he went to town to pick up supplies. Very rarely did he deviate from that order except to add in an extra case of Tecate when he was in a certain kind of mood.

  Ellery, however, moved around the store like a bumblebee with no path that was apparent to him and that seemed inefficient. Aimless. They’d been in the damned place for half an hour already and hadn’t even hit the frozen food section yet. He would have filled up the cart with frozen pizzas five minutes in.

  Then he noticed she talked to herself as she pushed the cart. Brainstorming and list-making aloud. She’d pick one thing only to put it back five minutes later and pick up two other things as if she was editing a menu as she went along.

  He hated to interrupt her mental meanderings—watching her was the most fascinating thing he’d seen since that last Ancient Aliens show he’d watched—but they’d passed the same stock clerk three times and he was starting to stare. Mason didn’t think it was just because she was pretty, although he didn’t particularly relish the idea of her being stared at for that reason, either. He may not have picked her himself, but he damn sure wouldn’t have done any better if he had. The goddess could be so cruel. He could hear the taunting now: “Look what you’re going to lose, pendejo. Look what I gave you and that you couldn’t hold onto.”

  Fuck. He had to do better. He was trying to, but he was way out of his element. Could she stand him or not? That seemed to be the bare minimum he needed to strive for at the moment.

  “Ell,” he said when she stopped in front of whole-wheat crackers.

  She turned two boxes over and looked from one ingredient list to the other, still muttering.

  “Ellery?”

  “Yeah?” She dropped the box with the Low Sodium! banner across the front into the cart.

  “You need some help?”

  “Normally, I’d say yes, but I’m shopping on the fly. I don’t usually do that, and I’m having to guess what Nick might eat.”

  “Oh.” He should have known what Nick ate. Seemed best to keep his mouth shut before she called him out on it.

  “Still need formula. The container you have at home is only going to last for a few days. And diapers.”

  “I’ll go get them.”

  He backed away, and stopped, turning back to her. “Uh … what size? I think I’ve been buying them too big.”

  “Probably a two. Go with weight, not activity level. I don’t think he’s anywhere near twenty pounds.”

  “Right.” Had anyone else had said it, he might have taken it as a judgment. Hell, his old records said he’d been twenty-two pounds at the same age, but more and more with each passing day he was finding it pointless to compare Nick to him. Ellery was so matter-of-fact about anything having to do with Nick, it was hard for Mason to feel bruised about it.

  He walked past the stock clerk again and this time hissed, “What?” when Ralphie looked up. He’d been hoping to avoid a conversation with the kid, but now it seemed unavoidable.

  “That your mate, Alpha?”

  Mason’s immediate thought was none of your business, you little twerp, but suspected a harsh rebuttal would only rouse the kid’s suspicions more. “Maybe she’s just a nanny.”

  “A nanny? Where’s she from? Surprised you didn’t hire someone local.”

  “Maybe I did. You can’t possibly know everyone, Ralphie.”

  Ralphie guffawed and scratched the scraggly hairs under his chin. �
�I know most folks, at least by face. This is the only grocery store in town, and my dad works all the ranches so I know folks on the outskirts, too. Come on, you can tell me. I won’t say a word.”

  Yeah, right. Ralphie Sheehan may have seemed innocuous with his freckles and residual baby fat, but he had a single other brother who was as conniving as he was lazy. If Edgar thought there was an eligible female in the area, he just might come out the woodwork to convince her of just how charming he was. And he could be, when he wanted to. Usually didn’t last long.

  As one of the many thorns in Mason’s side, Edgar and the rest of the Sheehans received far more of Mason’s mental energy than the rest of the glaring combined. Hank had suggested Mason clean house and cut ties to any Cougars they didn’t implicitly trust, but Mason had wanted to take a conservative approach … at least for the time being. If part of the group splintered off, it might leave the folks who remained weaker for attack by outsiders. There was strength in numbers, even if some of the Cougars comprising the numbers were of questionable usefulness.

  There went that nagging voice in his head again. Alpha up.

  Ugh. He shook off the thought. “Why’s it matter, Ralphie?”

  Ralphie shrugged. “Doesn't. You don’t let just anyone around Nick, is all.”

  “That’s true. I don’t.”

  “So … has Jill met her?”

  “Now that’s really none of your business.” Mason walked away with Ralphie calling behind him, “See ya later, Alpha.”

  Eventually, Mason would have to claim Ellery publicly, assuming she didn’t ditch him. He hadn’t wanted a mate, but the idea was starting to grow on him. Yeah, he wanted to be around for Nick, but Nick also needed a competent mother. Ellery could slide right into that role. Perhaps if she got attached enough to Nick, she wouldn’t be so eager to leave. Mason wasn’t above using his kid as an incentive. After all, everything he did was for his kid in some way. Certainly, Nick wouldn’t mind being used as a pawn for his better good.

  Mason knelt in front of the size two diapers comparing features and motifs. The ones with trucks had stretchy tabs. The ones with pictures of balls had snug-fit legs.

  Ellery scooted the cart close to him, stood on tiptoes, and grabbed the unbleached, no-frills, natural cotton diapers. “Taking you forever.”

  “I got held up by a young Cougar.” He whistled at the price tag on the bundle she picked up.

  “Nick’s got a red caboose and some welts on his thighs.” She pushed the cart away. “I don’t think it’s just diaper rash.”

  Scolding him again. Fine. As long as she kept her brain on Nick, she could yank Mason around all she wanted.

  Mason put back the two packages he held and followed her. “You mean his mom hasn’t been changing him enough? That fits Jill to a T, leaving him soaked until his pants leak.”

  “That may be a part of it, but like a lot of kids, he’s probably sensitive to chemicals in that area. Who knows what kind of allergies he might have having two shifters for parents.”

  “Beyond an allergy to silver, you mean. Mom thought he might have eczema.”

  “He just might. His pediatrician would know.”

  Mason had no idea who Nick’s pediatrician was. He’d asked Jill, and she said she took him to a group practice and would get Mason the info. She never did. “I’ll look into it,” he said bashfully. He didn’t do bashful. She obviously had that leash pulled tight.

  “Do it soon.”

  He grimaced.

  “Eczema and certain food allergies tend to be comorbid, and you want to do all you can to avoid flare-ups. All that itchiness would make anyone insane. Can you imagine how bad it’d be for a baby?”

  “I can imagine. Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize to me. Just do better.”

  Apparently, doing better was why he had her.

  They navigated to the checkout line and Mason loaded groceries onto the conveyor belt. “What else do you need?”

  “Need to get a litter box.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Hank found an empty storage tote and cut a dip in the front. He put some of the wood shavings we swept up this morning into it, and your little monster seemed to tolerate that just fine.”

  “That monster’s name is Pumpkin Pie.”

  He snorted.

  She gave him a long blink.

  “Seriously?”

  “That’s her name. Pumpkin Pie. My sister also has an orange-and-white cat from the same litter. Her name is Candy Corn.”

  “Themed names. That’s cute.” If he’d had to name a cat, he’d probably give it a heavy metal name like “Asgard” or “Kickstand.”

  She shrugged. “We get our fun wherever we can find it. I know it’s pitiful, but naming those cats kept us laughing for at least three weeks.”

  “That’s not good. You should have more stuff to laugh at.”

  “You offering to give me something?”

  “Sure. I’d love to make you laugh, assuming the thing you’re laughing at isn’t me.”

  “Ha.” She sucked her teeth and picked up an Us Weekly from the rack over the chewing gum. “Haven’t read one of these in years. Usually get all my celebrity gossip through apps on my phone.”

  And he had her phone, and Miles’s and Hannah’s, too. He’d locked them into the shop safe. He cringed. She had to have been feeling pretty disconnected. Being taken as a Cougar mate must have been so much different during the era of isolated, insular communities—back when getting in touch might have meant a journey of several days. Those mates might have feared they’d never see their families again, but they would have thought they had good fortune to be picked. Mason was under no illusion that she’d hit the jackpot with him. He pitied her.

  “Get it,” he said. “You can tell me who all those people are who I don’t know but should at least be able to recognize.”

  Grinning, she tossed it into the conveyor belt along with a pack of Rolo. And then another. He could tell it was for spite by the way she narrowed her eyes at him when she reached for it. A dollar-fifty of candy was hardly going to break him. If he were lucky, that was as expensive as her tastes got. A fancy girl wouldn’t get on very well at the ranch.

  “Hey, Mason.”

  Damn. Too late to back out.

  He always tried to avoid Millie’s check-out lane, because she always had some new shit to ask him to do.

  The older witch swiped his value card through the machine and thrust it at him.

  He groaned inwardly. “Hey, Mill.” There was always something with Millie. She kept him hopping. Every damned time he saw her, she needed something. He couldn’t exactly say no. As the alpha Cougar, helping her was part of his job. He was supposed to assist the leaders of other supernatural groups in the area—to act as an ambassador and investigator, when necessary. He was supposed to build bridges, not burn them. But Millie was needy. So freaking needy. His mother would pinch the ever-loving shit out of him if she found out he’d given the ditzy old bat a hard time, though.

  “Gonna be at the barbecue this weekend?” She kept scanning groceries, but her gaze flitted to Ellery. Feminine multitasking at its finest.

  Ellery was too busy unbuckling Nick from the cart to pay any attention.

  “Maybe,” he said. “We’ve got a pileup of orders at Woodworks. It depends on what’s left to do Friday night.”

  “Miss seeing you around.”

  He shrugged. “You know how it goes. You get busy and all the social stuff goes down the toilet.”

  “Know the feeling. I haven’t gotten out much since I got my goats.” She picked up the oatmeal and scratched off the adhered manufacturer’s coupon, still watching Ellery.

  Ellery squeezed behind him with Nick and stopped at the end of the lane. “We’ll wait outside.”

  “’Kay.” He didn’t think she was going to try to escape with Nick on her hip, so he didn’t bother with the stupid I’m watching you warning.

  Millie blinked at him.
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  “What?”

  “Who is she? And do you need any stamps today?”

  “Why do you ask? And no.”

  “I know what she is. She’s not Cougar. She doesn’t have your kind of energy and you all have a special stink about you.”

  “Only you would think that.” Ellery had thought he smelled nice enough. Just to be sure, though, he snuck a whiff of his arm. Smelled damn fine. He turned to check behind him. No waiting customers. Next cashier was two lanes over and busy sorting coupons. “You really know what she is?” he leaned in to whisper.

  “That’ll be one-twelve fifty-seven. Those diapers were five dollars cheaper yesterday, by the way. I’m 90 percent sure, but there’s some kind of odd fingerprints in her aura. Don’t see too many of those.”

  “You’re making no sense. Tell it to me in language a cat could understand.” He swiped his debit card.

  “She’s a witch. Like recognizes like, and I’d guess she’s too polite to say anything to me about what she believes I am. Don’t know what kind she is, but I’ve never encountered a witch with so much contamination in her energy.”

  “Contamination of what sort?”

  “Angelic. Something else, too.”

  “Godly, maybe?”

  Millie guffawed and her glasses slipped off her narrow nose only to be caught by the chain dangling from her neck. She put them back on. “I don’t know any acquaintances, not even on the internet, who’s been up close and personal with a god. They don’t tend to meddle so closely.”

  He groaned. “No, they don’t tend to. She’s a special case.”

  Millie raised an eyebrow. “Tell me more.”

  “Nah. I need a hundred in cash back if you’ve got that in the drawer.”

  “Then push the button and tell that to the machine. What aren’t you letting on?”

  “I’m not letting on much of anything, so be more specific about what you want me to tell you.”

  She stamped her foot—a most hilarious action for a woman who had to be sixty if she was a day. “Tell me, dammit! I swear, you Foyes … ”