Wolf Fire (Warrior Wolves Book 2)

by Christine DePetrillo

  “Aww, hell no.” She needed time to think. “Let’s close now, Zavier.”

  “But it’s not closing time yet.” He pointed to the clock hanging on the wall behind the register.

  “Honey, we’re the only two in here. Everyone else is down at the new shopping plaza.” One owned by Robert Senclair. “They’re all spending their money on overpriced junk.”

  “What are you going to do about Jared?” Zavier stuffed his book into his backpack. Even in the summer, the kid was busy with academic stuff. He wouldn’t end up owning an unsuccessful shop in the middle of Canville, Vermont. He’d make something of himself. Carrie often busted his balls about how into school he was, but Nika could tell the girl was actually impressed with Zavier’s intellect.

  Now if only I could attract someone with some intellect. And killer abs. That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? Intellect and abs. Small requests really.

  But those requests would have to wait because she needed to focus her energy on replacing Jared and quick or she’d lose more money. Money she couldn’t afford to lose.

  After saying goodbye to Zavier, Nika walked on the little trail that led to the barn behind the trading post. Tato had built that barn with his own two hands when he’d first come to America from Poland. He’d made friends with some local Native Americans who helped him, and together they built the trading post when the barn was done. The post sold Native American wares to start, but her father slowly added other vendors and made the place a booming tourist spot for every blue-collar dad who couldn’t afford to take his family to Disney World.

  The Wolfman Show had always been their most famous attraction though. Even in the early years, people loved the alternative Red Riding Hood skit. The audience got a kick out of participating, saying the lines, My what big teeth you have, along with the actors and screaming when Wolfman ran wild in the crowd, pretending to look for a snack while the Huntsman took aim.

  It was a silly show. Nika wasn’t sure what was so magical about it, but it was the only thing keeping the post afloat right now. If she couldn’t replace Jared, and fast, she’d have no choice but to sell the post to Robert. She’d have to move out of the loft apartment in the barn—the barn that made her feel close to Tato even though he was gone.

  She unlocked the small side door on the barn and climbed the narrow staircase up to the loft apartment. The smell of old wood always comforted her, but it wasn’t doing the job tonight. Her mind was too heavy to be consoled by memories. Tonight the odor in the barn made her think of rotting, decrepit things. Dead things. Things that needed attention and repair and money.

  Barking from the other side of the apartment door made her smile. Daisy, her chocolate Labrador Retriever, had a way of loosening the tension in Nika’s shoulders no matter what.

  A massage by someone with intellect and abs would do the trick too. The chances of that waiting for her on the other side of the door, however, were zero.

  When she opened the door, Daisy was right there, her tail wagging like a helicopter blade stuck to her ass. Her tongue flopped out of her mouth and her front paws danced on the wide-planked floor.

  “Hey, Daisy-girl. Who’s Mama’s baby? Are you Mama’s baby?” Nika dropped to her knees and let the dog christen her face with slobbery kisses. “Oh, I love you too. Yes, I do.” She took a floppy ear in each hand and rubbed until Daisy was a melted pile of chocolate-colored fur at her knees.

  When the excitement over her arrival at home died away, Nika and Daisy went into the kitchen where Nika filled the dog’s food and water bowls.

  “That takes care of you.” She opened her refrigerator which was full of… pretty much nothing. “Yogurt and American cheese. Ah, food of the gods, Daisy.” She eyed the dog’s kibble. “Don’t suppose you’re willing to share your dinner, are you, girl?” God, she was actually considering eating dog food. What the hell?

  She rustled up some stale crackers from a cupboard and poured herself a tall glass of tap water. Sighing often, she ate at the small kitchen table—also made by Tato—trying to convince herself she was eating a loaded pizza and French fries from Rosie’s Diner instead. Washing it all down with a margarita and chocolate cake for dessert.

  “What am I going to do, Daisy?”

  At her name, the dog came over and rested her head in Nika’s lap. Nika stared into Daisy’s big golden eyes and wished the pooch would tell her she’d buried a bazillion dollars in the back yard.

  “Show me, girl. Let’s go dig it up.”

  Daisy raced off and brought back a neon green, stuffed alligator that squeaked in her jaws. Her tail wagged in hopes of a play session.

  “That alligator won’t save us, Daisy.” But she cleaned up her dinner—if she could call it that—and played Find It with Daisy until the dog threw the alligator onto her doggie bed and sat on top of it.

  On her way to the bathroom to take a shower, Nika pressed the play button on her answering machine.

  “Hey, Nika,” Jared’s voice called out. “I, uhh, won’t be in to work tomorrow… or like, the next day… or probably the day after that. I, umm, ran into a little trouble. Okay, maybe it’s a lot of trouble. I’m so sorry. You were the best boss I ever had. I mean that.”

  Nika stared at the machine. He was guilty, and no amount of begging Sheriff Olsen would get the cop to release her Wolfman. Tomorrow she’d go into work, type up a help wanted ad, and if the Universe decided—for once in her life—to cut her a damn break, she’d have a new Wolfman by the end of the day. Yes, she was asking for a miracle, but she was out of practical options. Miracles were all she had left.

  Still grumbling to herself, she cut through the cozy living room full of gorgeous wood furniture her father had made and lots of Native American art. How much would those treasured pieces fetch if she were to sell them? She hated that she’d even considered that notion.

  She navigated down the hallway, shedding her clothes and stepping directly into the shower. The water hit her with a cold slap, but it was July. The apartment was warm because it didn’t have air conditioning so chilly water was welcome. It also added to her epic display of tortured woman. After a few moments it heated up, but she lived in conservation mode now so she turned off the water and hopped out of the shower long before her troubles washed down the drain.

  Nope, she’d carry those troubles to bed with her. Wake up with them. Take them to work. Breathe them in.

  I miss you, Tato.

  Everything had been better, easier, when he was alive. This being a grownup shit wasn’t for Nika. She didn’t want to do it anymore.

  Crawling into bed, Nika rested on her back and stared at the dreamcatcher hanging from the ceiling light. Tato had given it to her on her sixteenth birthday and she’d questioned why he hadn’t given her some Polish-themed memento instead.

  “We’re all a little bit Native American, Nika,” he’d told her. “If we look way down deep, we’re all people of the earth.”

  People of the earth. If she didn’t figure out a way to keep the trading post and improve its business so she could feed herself, she’d be a person of the earth all right.

  Beneath the earth. About six feet.

  Chapter Three

  “You’re a werewolf too?” The boy, Dylan, stared at Jaemus, a wide-eyed look of excitement in his blue eyes.

  “Aye.” Jaemus sat across from the child on a seat made of fluffy cushions and soft material. Brandy had called it a couch and although it wasn’t as ornate as the king’s thrones he’d seen over the years, Jaemus was sure it was more comfortable.

  He finished eating the sandwich Brandy had made him and though he’d never had chicken salad before, he decided he liked it. Quite a bit. Of course horse shit would have tasted good to him right about now too. He’d been living on small fish and critters, berries, and nuts for weeks, all of which he had to hunt and collect himself. Food that magically appeared to him and was made by a beautiful woman was certainly preferred.

  “Can you change r
ight now?” Dylan asked.

  “No.”

  “C’mon. I want to see what you look like.”

  “This,” Jaemus angled his hands at himself, “is what I look like.”

  “As a human, yeah, but what color is your fur? Do your eyes glow like Mom’s and Reardon’s? Are you as big as Reardon? Because he’s huge! He likes to run and play games with me in the field. He can run so fast. Mom too. Can you run fast?”

  Jaemus let out a low growl as Reardon and Brandy came into the room.

  “You do not growl at my son.” Suddenly Brandy was standing right in front of him, hands on her hips and her mouth set in a firm line. Her eyes glowed in warning.

  “He’s like a gnat, buzzing around my head with all his questions. I can’t stand the interrogation.”

  Dylan’s shoulders sank and the child looked down to his lap. “I’m sorry.” He slid off his seat and ran out of the room.

  Reardon joined Brandy in front of Jaemus. “Listen, brother, I consider that boy my son as well, and you will not speak to him like that again. Understand?”

  Jaemus stood abruptly. Brandy backed up several steps, but Reardon remained in his face.

  “Go ahead,” Reardon said. “Hit me. If it’ll make you feel better. But I guarantee it won’t. Especially when I hit back.” A growl worked its way into that final sentence, and Reardon’s eyes glowed an intense green-gold in challenge.

  Claws extended from Jaemus’s fingertips. His canines lengthened and human reason leached away. “You won’t be able to hit back when I’m through, brother.”

  Before he could lunge, Brandy stepped between them. Both he and Reardon let out growls, but she growled right back at them. “Grow up. Fighting won’t solve your problems, boys. Only forgiveness will.” She shot Jaemus a pointed look then faced Reardon. “I’m going to see if Dylan’s okay then head to bed. If I’m not mistaken, you were intending to worship every square inch of me in celebration of America’s freedom. Is that still on?”

  Reardon’s eyes glowed brighter as he shifted his focus to Brandy. Desire swelled between them and the scent made Jaemus’s body react. It’d been too long since he’d buried himself in a woman. Too damn long.

  “Aye, that’s on, fairy lass. Very on.” Reardon dropped his head and kissed Brandy square on the mouth.

  Her body shuddered as she pulled away, laughing. “Well, okay then.” She walked out of the room, her hips swaying deliciously.

  “Keep looking at her like that and I’ll rip your face off,” Reardon said.

  Jaemus shifted his attention back to his brother. “Just trying to figure out why she wants you.”

  Reardon’s features softened, his eyes dimming back to their normal color and a slight grin on his lips. “If you figure that one out, let me know. I don’t deserve her or her son, but for some reason they’ve decided to share their lives, their love with me. I plan to spend my entire life giving them whatever they want, though it will never be enough compared to what they’ve given me.”

  “And the boy doesn’t care if you’re a werewolf and you’ve changed his mother into a beast too?” Jaemus hooked his hair behind his left ear and ran a finger along the scar before rubbing his bearded jaw. Though Brandy had tidied him, he still felt like a monster. He always would.

  “Dylan is an exceptional boy,” Reardon said. “He and Brandy have a love for the supernatural. They accepted me in wolf form first then as a human then as both.” He scrubbed a hand over his own bearded jaw. “Look, I’m so sorry for what I did to you and the others. I had no right, Jaemus. I know that. Nothing I can do will right that wrong either, but look at me. It’s possible to be a werewolf and have a wonderful life.”

  Jaemus doubted that. “Good fortune only smiles upon you, Reardon. You’re one lucky bastard.”

  “I guess so. Flidae brought my brother back to me.” Reardon clapped him on the shoulder, but didn’t wait for Jaemus to respond. “Where were you before the goddess dropped you here?”

  Jaemus shrugged. “An island. I don’t know where or when. I was the only one there.”

  A pained expression flitted across Reardon’s face. “You’ve been alone since Flidae separated us?”

  “Aye.”

  “That’s been over a month.” Reardon’s jaw tensed then he shook his head. “Well, you’re not alone now. You must be tired, and sleep will make those cuts heal faster. Come. Meredith, Brandy’s mother, prepared the guest room upstairs for you.”

  “You get a mother out of the deal too. Incredible.”

  “Aye, Meredith is wonderful. You’ll meet her tomorrow. She lives on the property along with the wolves that we’ll also introduce you to. They’re a fantastic pack.”

  “And you never intend to go back to Ireland? Our Ireland?” Wouldn’t that be the goal of all the men? To get back home?

  “There’s nothing there for me, Jaemus. I lived a life there that caused me to betray men who had only been loyal to me. I don’t want to be that man ever again.” He led Jaemus to a set of stairs and climbed. “Besides,” he threw over his shoulder, “this time and place has so many things you won’t be able to live without.”

  Don’t be so sure. Jaemus had come from surviving alone on a scorching tropical island. There was a great deal he could apparently live without.

  He followed Reardon up the stairs if only for the promise of a place to sleep. He was the kind of tired he felt deep down in his bones. Maybe if he got some rest he’d be able to sort through the emotions storming inside of him. He was still furious at Reardon, and yet, relief coursed through him as well. Reardon was taking care of him again. Giving him a place to stay, an apology, encouragement that things as a werewolf were not as bad as they seemed. These were all good things, but Jaemus also remembered he was in this situation because of Reardon. He hadn’t minded their previous life as hired warriors. He was good at that life.

  If he stayed here with Reardon, what would his life be like? Could he keep the wolf in him hidden? Could he bury that part of him and carry on like the regular human he longed to be again? Could he find someone like Brandy for himself? Did he want to?

  Too many questions, not enough answers. So, aye, sleep it would be. Maybe some answers would come in his dreams.

  “Here we are.” Reardon stopped at an open doorway and motioned for Jaemus to enter. “Bathroom’s down the hall. There’s more food downstairs in the kitchen if you get hungry. Help yourself to anything you need.” He turned to leave, but then swiveled back. “No more growling at Dylan or Brandy or each other. Deal?” He stuck out his hand, and Jaemus gaped at it.

  “I won’t growl at the boy or the woman,” Jaemus said.

  “But you can’t promise not to growl at me?”

  Jaemus shook his head.

  “Maybe in time.”

  Doubtful.

  Reardon lowered his hand. “See you in the morning.” He walked down the hall a little ways and disappeared behind another door. Giggling sounded on the other side and Jaemus shut his door to drown it out. He wasn’t about to listen to his brother’s escapades. Not when no escapades were scheduled for himself.

  He surveyed the room he’d been given. The walls were a deep blue and covered in art work depicting wolves in snow. Wonderful. He couldn’t go a moment without being reminded of his fate.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he lowered to the large bed and flopped back. The bed was surprisingly comfortable. No lumpy spots and no smell of fresh stuffing. It was even more comfortable than the couch. Maybe Reardon had been right about it being hard to leave this time and place.

  Jaemus propped himself up on one elbow so he could continue scanning the room, but as he took in the end tables fashioned to match the woodwork on the bed, his eyes grew too heavy to keep open. Taking one of the soft cushions from the head of the bed, Jaemus sunk his head into it. The cuts Brandy had tended hurt less as they brushed up against his clothes. His borrowed clothes.

  He sat up and pulled off the shirt then peeled away the pants to
o, dropping both in a pile on the floor by the bed. In nothing but a pair of undergarments, Jaemus pulled a thin sheet over his mostly naked body. The bedclothes smelled clean and fresh. So different from the sun-baked forest and sandy shores of the island. So different from the star-filled skies of Ireland too.

  Ireland. He had to get back there. Maybe Reardon liked it here in this time and place, but Jaemus didn’t belong here. He wasn’t quite sure where he belonged. Maybe wedged in the pages of ancient myths where werewolves and other monsters lurked. Maybe in Hades where evil beasts prowled.

  Maybe nowhere. Nowhere at all.

  If Reardon could find a place to belong…

  He growled, folding the cushion around his head to muffle the sound. He wasn’t his brother. Things didn’t work out for him as they did for Reardon. His brother flexed a little muscle and people bowed down to him—even boys and women from the future apparently. Jaemus, on the other hand, had to work for everything.

  When it was his turn to bring home food for Reardon and their mother, he couldn’t rely on fighting. No. He ended up trading work for what they needed. It was never easy work either. Mucking stalls. Harvesting crops. Cleaning forges. Shipbuilding. Granted, he’d acquired many skills, but with a few well-placed punches, Reardon had fed and clothed them all. It took Jaemus weeks sometimes just to earn a few loaves of bread.

  But he’d done it. For his mother. For his brother. A brother who did protect him. A brother who eventually made him an extremely wealthy man with all the treasures they’d garnered fighting kings’ battles. A brother who included him in his legendary army.

  A brother who chose continued victory over letting Jaemus live a natural, human life.

  Brandy wanted him to forgive Reardon. His brother wanted that forgiveness. It wasn’t that easy though. Nothing ever was.

  Jaemus rolled to his side and slept for two days straight.

  ****

  “I’ve asked around, Boss,” Zavier said. “No one wants the Wolfman job.”

  Three days had gone by since Jared’s arrest, and Zavier was trying his best to be Wolfman, but the kid wasn’t mean or scary or muscled enough. Each show had less and less of a crowd as word got out that the previous Wolfman was gone. No one had answered her help wanted ad either. Robert had been by nearly every day to mention and re-mention that he was all too willing to take the burden of the trading post off her shoulders.