by AJ Skelly
“I, I’m not hurt,” I stammered, my knees shaking, Wolf still on high alert, simmering below my skin but contained for the moment now that Sam was here. I gripped his arms and stood up on my own but leaned on him. My brain was trying to catch up to what had just happened—and nearly happened—to me.
Sam pulled me to him again, kissing the side of my head, his chest going up and down like he’d sprinted the four-hundred-meter dash.
“What happened?” he murmured, his breathing starting to slow.
Jake loped up to us again before I could respond.
“I’m sorry, Sam. No plates. I went as fast after them as I could on two legs. But there was a little scent, mostly exhaust though.”
“Good.” Sam stared hard at Jake while Jake’s head cocked to the side. “Thanks. Got it.”
“Want me to drop by to fill you in more on the new guy tonight?” Jake asked.
“Yeah. Let me text you first though. I need to talk to Dad.” A shudder rippled through him as an expression that could have been fear flashed across his face and then disappeared.
Jake nodded and we parted ways, Sam carefully scanned the parking lot and surrounding area as he opened the car door for me.
Once he was in the driver’s seat, he just sat there a minute, both hands gripping the steering wheel. His knuckles were white.
“Sam?” I asked tentatively.
He turned the full force of his blue eyes on me, and I felt my heart trip up a little at their intensity.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he whispered.
I nodded. “Yeah. A little shaken up, but I’m fine. I’m not hurt.”
He dragged both hands through this hair, clearly still distressed. I reached over and took his right hand in both of mine.
“Sam, I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re both okay,” I murmured. He was starting to scare me a little bit.
“Sorry. I haven’t been this close to letting the wolf out in public since Tyler George tried to pick a fight with me in sixth grade.” He swallowed hard before glancing at me again. “Do you want to call the police?”
“Do you think we should?” I wasn’t sure what the police could do at this point. I had no real proof. No license plate number, nothing other than that a black sedan tried to run me down in the parking lot.
“Normally, we’d already be on the way there. But since it was definitely a wolf driving, it might be better to handle this within the pack.”
“What was Jake doing—when you asked about the scent?”
“Oh. We were using my Beta link. He sent me the scent information. It’s kind of like sending me the memory of a memory. It’s weaker than the real thing but still helpful.”
“Can all wolves do that?”
“Only the Betas and Alphas have that sort of mental link with their pack members. Pack members can’t send mental messages to each other—only the Alpha and the Beta can do that. Sometimes mates form similar links and can share basic thoughts or feelings if they concentrate hard enough and practice enough over time. Remember the day after you changed when Rachel was over? Like that—we tend to use it more, and better, than most,” he finished.
“I didn’t realize we used it more. But that first time you just heard my thoughts. Is that what you mean?” He nodded.
“Partly. The link allows pack members to send information to their leaders, and we can do the same, but there’s—I guess you could call it a command feature that goes with it. Though it’s rarely done, and there are rules prohibiting it. The chain of command allows the Alpha or the Beta to issue commands that a pack member is bound to follow. Technically, any wolf can command another wolf, so long as the wolf doing the commanding is more alpha than the other. Does that make sense?”
“I think so,” I said, trying to wrap my brain around this new phenomenon.
“Nobody besides the Beta or the Alpha ever uses it. It’s against one of our wolf laws, and we use it so infrequently that it’s almost legendary when we do. When things were wilder and packs were more savage, it was helpful in controlling the pack as a whole. We like to think we’re all more civilized now. Anyway, Betas and Alphas still have a link that lets them transfer information or commands to the rest of their pack. Pack members can send information to us if we’re close enough to each other as well.”
“Okay. I think my brain is officially overloaded. What a day. Right now, all I want to do is go bake things. Lots of things.”
“I hope I get to sample?” He tried to crack a smile, but the strain lingered in his eyes.
“Of course.”
****
Rachel beat us to the cabin, all excited to dive in and get started. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, leaning against her car with a big box of supplies waiting at her feet. I wasn’t kidding when I told Sam we had tons to do. The festival was mere days away and going wolf over the past weekend and then skipping for movies Saturday cut into our usual prep time.
“Sam, would you mind letting us work, just the two of us for a while? I hate to run you out of your space, but I’d really like to talk to her…you know…about girl stuff for a bit.”
His jaw muscle clenched as he stared out the windshield and turned the car off.
“No, I don’t mind at all. But I’m not comfortable leaving you unprotected after this afternoon.”
I frowned. I desperately needed some time to process what happened this afternoon and have a good conversation about Sam with Rachel, without Sam in the room.
“What if I have an extra patrol run while the two of you guys are in there?”
I bit my lip. “I hate to inconvenience anyone. Besides, any new wolf will clearly know they’re on someone else’s land the minute they get within whiffing distance.”
“Seriously. No worries. Several people owe me favors.” He winked. “I need to talk to Dad anyway, so this is as good a time as any for me to let you ladies have the cabin. But I’m not okay leaving the two of you up here alone.”
“Fine. But you make sure you tell any patrols to stay clear enough of the cabin that they won’t overhear anything.”
He grinned. “Deal. Let’s get you inside so there are hot cookies when I get back.”
I chuckled. “Good to know your real motives.”
****
After Sam had called in patrols and left the cabin, we made short work of the supplies Rachel brought out, and together with what we already had at the cabin, we had enough to keep us busy for days. I laid out the small bowls for different colored frostings and filled Rachel in on the afternoon’s events.
“Are you kidding?” Rachel gasped. Her eyes did a quick scan over me as she nearly dropped the pound of butter in her hands. “You’re okay? You’re not hurt? Did you notice anything identifiable about the scumbag?”
“Unfortunately, not. Jake ran after them, but short of shifting, he couldn’t keep up long enough to catch anything useful off the car. But he did catch a sort of scent. I’m not sure how reliable it will be, mixed with exhaust fumes, but it’s more than I caught. I think the adrenaline overrode anything else I might have processed. In my mind is a figure wearing a black ski mask behind the wheel of a black sedan, screaming down the parking lot and trying to mash me into the pavement.” I shuddered at the memory.
“Meggie!” She put the butter on the counter and came to grab me up in a quick, fierce hug. “I’m glad you’re okay! Going wolf is enough excitement for this semester. Let’s leave the hit and runs for another day.”
I squeeze her extra tight. “Fine by me!”
“Speaking of going wolf, now that we’re alone, tell me how things are really going. Catch me up to speed. These little snatches at school are just enough to keep me salivating for more.” She winked and turned back to her electric mixer to put in the butter to cream with the sugar.
“Well, where do you want me to start?”
“Tell me more about this mate business.”
“Good call.” I proceeded to fill her in on all the detail
s I had on how the mate bond worked.
“So he’s head-over-heels smitten and honestly can’t help himself, and you’re…” She let the sentence dangle once I finished my rundown.
“Ugh, Rachel. I don’t know. I totally have a crush on him—I mean, not only is he gorgeous and an amazing kisser, but he has the whole package. He’s kind. He’s thoughtful. He’s respectful. He’s dependable. Grandpa likes him.” I snorted. “I think Grandpa wants to adopt him.”
“Ha, well, technically, Sam is already Grandpa’s grandson-in-law.” She shot me a sly grin.
“Shut it, you little turd. And pass me that cocoa powder, would you?”
She passed the jar over and waited for me to continue.
“The intensity of this mate-bond thing scares me a little. In some ways, it puts this extra added pressure on me—which, I get why Sam didn’t tell me about it at first, because I do feel added pressure now. I still want to stay human. But now that I know more about the mate bond, I don’t want to leave Sam hurting like he will when I leave.” Sadness pooled in my stomach, and my mouth turned down as my brows drew together.
Rachel’s face held a deep, unreadable expression.
“Say it.”
“What happens if you stay wolf?”
“I don’t know. And I’m too afraid to ask.”
“Do you want to talk about it more now?” she asked gently.
I sighed into the bowl of flour and cocoa I was sifting. Thinking about staying human but leaving a gaping wound in Sam’s heart twisted up my insides like a washrag wrung up tight to get the last drops of water out. I wasn’t sure Sam was the only one who would leave with a gaping hole.
“No. Not really. The whole thing makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know what I think about any of it. Everything is so jumbled in my head that nothing makes sense when I try to sort through it all.”
“You’ve been through an incredibly traumatic event. You’ve only been a werewolf for barely over a week. Give things time to settle into place. Things will probably start to resolve, and then you’ll wake up fully human again, and this will all be behind you.”
“I suppose so. That’s the wish, I guess.”
“You guess?” She raised an auburn eyebrow at me as a grin hid in the corner of her mouth.
“Rachel,” I droned.
“So enough of this heavy stuff. Tell me more about this amazing, defining kiss. You’ve been kissed a lot more than me. Girl’s gotta get pointers, you know.” She flashed her perfectly straight teeth at me, and I couldn’t help myself from laughing.
“Come on, you’ve been kissed.”
“Not as much as you, and clearly, I’ve been kissing the wrong guys, since I’ve never had a moment like you and Sam.”
“Rachel, it was…” I floundered for the right words as I started to mold little balls of double-chocolate-chunk cookie dough. “I don’t know. He was kissing me because he wanted me to feel loved. It wasn’t because he was getting anything out of it—I mean, he was, but that wasn’t the purpose of the kiss. Like, I’ve never experienced anything remotely that intimate with a guy before. This was a whole new ballgame. I didn’t know kissing like that actually existed outside rom-coms.”
“So different than the movie theater then?”
I felt my face heat, and not from the preheated oven in front of me. I groaned. “I can’t decide if that whole thing was more embarrassing or more phenomenal.”
“How about it’s a bit of both, and you leave it at that.” She smiled as she dumped her dough onto waxed paper to roll out. “Although, like I said at the theater, it looked pretty hot to me.”
I groaned again. “It was.” Rachel laughed.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door. We looked at each other, and I dusted off my hands on my apron and opened the door, surprised to find Raven standing on the stoop.
“Hey, Raven.” I motioned her inside.
“Hey.”
“What’s up?”
She crossed her ankles and clasped her hands in front of her. “Well, I hope this isn’t rude, but I actually have a favor to ask you guys.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “If anything, I owe you the favor after you did major grocery shopping for me last week.”
“Oh, that was no big deal.” She waved her hand in the air in a dismissing gesture. “I actually need some volunteer hours for my résumé.”
“Aren’t you a junior this year?” Rachel asked as she floured her rolling pin.
“Yeah, but there’s this graphic arts program that I’d love to start, and I can start it this summer if I get in. They love volunteer service. I do a lot of different stuff with my dad’s construction company and that sort of thing but nothing really artsy. Since it’s graphic design, I was hoping to have some sort of art-related volunteering on my résumé.” She bit her lip. “Would it be too much to ask to maybe decorate a few cookies? If you don’t like the way they turn out, that’s fine. I won’t be offended, and we’ll leave it at that. Cade said Sam mentioned you guys were doing all kinds of stuff for the HarvestFest, and that you guys own your own licensed company?”
I glanced at Rachel who nodded enthusiastically.
“We do. And actually, that would be great, if you know how to ice cookies. We’re way behind, and that’s one of the most time-consuming parts.”
“Here,” Rachel said, putting down her rolling pin and grabbing a few of the little pots of colored icing I’d made up. She put them down on the extra fold-up table we’d put out and pulled up a chair. “I’ve got some leaf shaped cookies that are about completely cooled. You want to take a stab at a few of them, see what you come up with? We usually try to do fall colors and a wide array of them, so they’re nice and creative. They don’t need to be uniform, either.”
“Ooh, that sounds great. I can do uniform, too, if you have anything like that. My mom and I like to do iced sugar cookies together. Although, I confess, I only do the decorating. Mom always does the baking part.” She gave a nervous chuckled. “I won’t volunteer for any of the baking.”
I smiled back at her. If she was a decent icer, this would be a massive time-saver. Plus, she probably had some insider information on Sam, if I could figure out how to bring it up so I didn’t give away that my being a werewolf was accidental.
Raven set to work once she had all the colored icing and the icing bags, tips, and a few knives.
“So Raven, I don’t know you that well. What sort of things are you into?” Rachel broke the ice as we all went back to our tasks.
“Oh, well, I do like graphic design. I like a lot of different artsy sort of things. I draw—paint sometimes.”
“Really? Ever consider painting some drama sets? We’re always looking for talent.” Rachel smiled.
“I hadn’t actually thought about that. I’m just starting cheerleading now, but maybe for the spring play? That would probably be good on the résumé, too.” She smiled. “I did tumbling and gymnastics when I was young. My best friend—well, my best human friend—” She stopped, her eyebrows drawing together. “I hope that’s not offensive?”
Rachel laughed, and I smiled. “Rachel is pretty entrenched in the paranormal. And it’s hard to offend her.”
Raven smiled in relief. “Anyway, Aria convinced me to try out for cheerleading this year. There was another girl on the squad, but she moved right before the season started. Skylar—the team captain—is a little hard to please, but Aria thought I’d be a good fit with my background. It’s been fun so far. I like that I’ll be getting to go to all Cade’s games.”
“Yeah, Cade has played basketball forever, hasn’t he?” I commented. He was the point guard for our school, and he was good. “Didn’t I hear something about some scouts maybe coming to some games this year?”
“That’s what Coach Watson told the team. He said there would be some real potential opportunities for scholarships and playing some college ball. Cade is pumped about it.”
“Wow. I mean, wow! Meg, look at what this gi
rl can do!”
I popped over to where Rachel was looking over Raven’s shoulder and felt my eyes widen in surprise as I took in the cookie she’d decorated. It looked like an honest-to-goodness leaf. She had blended the colors in a way that was beyond my skill. She’d taken the slightest hint of gold dust and run it up the veins of the leaf where it reached out to touch the beautiful orange, yellow, and hints of crimson.
“Raven, forget volunteering. We’ll hire you!” Rachel exclaimed.
Raven laughed. “I’m glad you like it, but really, I need the volunteer hours.”
Chapter 35
Sam
I smelled Mom’s chili on the stove before I opened the door to the house. I sighed, thinking about Meg fixing dinner for us. She was a great cook. Mom was, too, but there was something about having the girl you loved cook for you. I shook my head. That wasn’t why I was here. Someone had tried to kill my girl today, and I needed to know why.
“Hi, Mom,” I said as the door creaked open.
“Samuel?” Mom’s face broke into a huge grin. She hugged me tightly. “How are things?” She gave me a motherly look, wanting to know how things were really going.
“Um, they’re okay. I’m not sure which way things are going to go down yet.”
Her smile fell a little. “Let me know if there’s anything at all I can do to help.” She squeezed my shoulder, and I nodded.
“Thanks, Mom. Is Dad home? I actually need to run a few things by him.”
“Sure. He’s out in the garage. Do you want to go meet him out there? I think he’s working on one of his cars.” My dad liked to fix up old junkers in the little spare time he had.
“That’s fine. Catch you later, Mom.”
She smiled as she went back into the kitchen, and I went to the door leading to the garage.
Oil and grease were two scents I always associated with my father. That, and paper. As a lawyer, my dad was always carrying around some sort of legal document, and when I was little, I remember he smelled like paper. As I got older, he spent more time working on his cars, and the odors of fixing up old cars became a part of his smell, too. He’d taught me the basics, but it wasn’t something I really liked, so we hadn’t done much of it together in the past few years.