If Herc knew what transpired in that office, he’d really be murderous. The memory of grinding on Alarick’s thigh—intertwining with him—made me want to vomit.
He’d used me. My resemblance to the Thanas and my ignorance of the game. He’d used me.
“I’ll speak plainly, Andie.” Herc broke the heavy silence. “The grids are slipping through our fingertips. We need your help.”
“You can sleep here,” Cameron said, her arm around my shoulders.
We’d climbed to the third level of the manor. People milled everywhere.
Not guests as Herc once told me.
They were part of this fight against the wolves. Every single one of them.
Wade pushed open a white door, and we entered a large bedroom equipped with four-poster bed, heavy drapes, and elegant furniture. Paintings of trees hung on the walls, and I shivered at the memory of Alarick’s office.
Beautiful bird.
He’d known who I was without a doubt. He called me little bird in the forest.
Then he’d stalked me and drawn me in. To what? Trick me for a laugh? Or something more sinister?
A cold fury had built within me over the last few hours. Leroy stealing my cap. Alarick watching me busk before the second job offer. I had a sinking feeling that strategic bears didn’t mess with the alarm system at the apartment building at all.
Which was why I’d accepted Herc’s offer to stay at the manor.
And Alarick’s plotting was just one of my worries. Looking back with a mind now opened to impossible things, I was certain something happened when he touched his palm to mine.
I didn’t faint.
I was thrown from the werewolf. Then after, that unexplainable heat. When had I ever behaved like that with a virtual stranger? Riding his thigh like that. Throwing myself at him.
Those were the actions of someone else, not me.
Bile rose up my throat.
I sat on the bed; hands pressed into my cheeks. I hadn’t felt this overwhelmed when Mum died.
That didn’t possess this shock factor.
Cancer sometimes ended in death. Everyone knew that. When I blew into my saxophone, music poured out. When I inhaled, air entered my lungs. These were all things that people knew.
When I kissed a man, he clawed the back of my dress because he was a werewolf.
Nope.
That there. That was impossible.
Cameron and Wade watched me, hovering just inside the doorway.
“Thanks for…” I searched for an appropriate descriptor.
“Blowing your world apart?” Wade asked.
Cameron jabbed him with her elbow.
“It’s true,” he said. “You must remember how this felt and we grew up with it—kind of.”
She flopped on the bed next to me. “What do you need, Andie? You need to know that we’ve got your back. So what’s it gonna be? Crying yourself to sleep? Drinking yourself to oblivion? Making a wolf dart board?”
The last one was tempting. “No idea.”
“What do you do when you lose the plot?” Wade leaned against the bedpost to my right.
Lose the plot? What a novelty. “I talk to inanimate objects sometimes. My car…”
“That’s just general crazy,” Cameron said. “Doesn’t count.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Really, no clue.”
Wade exchanged a long look with Cameron. “Right. I’m not sure what to do with that. So how about a sleepover? Mattresses and popcorn.”
It spoke for my current state that I was tempted. “I need to be by myself. Processing time or something. I guess my freak-outs happen alone.”
I detected a contemplativeness in Wade’s gaze that I wanted to know better.
“If you’re sure,” he eventually said.
“I am. But I’ll see you guys tomorrow?”
Cameron rolled to standing without the grunt of effort I usually made. Come to mention it, everyone in this place that I’d seen were in serious shape, Wade included.
“Yeah,” she said. “Herc wants to give you a tour of the grounds, remember?”
I must have looked shell-shocked. Wisely, Herc didn’t unload everything on me today. We’d resume our chat tomorrow, and my orders were to think about joining them for as long as needed.
If I decided to enter the grids—as Herc put it—I needed to be absolutely sure. Joining the game was far more of a one-way street than he made out in the apartment.
My gut reaction was to yell yes at the top of my lungs. I felt this valley in my very soul. The sense of belonging and Herc’s earlier words about essence struck a deep chord in me. Perhaps I wasn’t raised here, but since nearly the first moment of arriving, I’d done everything possible to remain.
The choice warranted serious thought, however—that old bitch called Habit.
The game broke my mother. What’s to say I’d fare better? Then there was the danger aspect. One, from playing the game itself. Two, Alarick’s plans for me might not be over.
Though inclined to believe he’d used me to pass a petty jab at Herc, I couldn’t rush into this decision. I owed myself that much. Some of my life had to be lived for me.
The door closed.
I stared around the large, empty room. Ah, shit. I didn’t want to be alone.
Striding to the entrance, I ripped the door open.
My heart sank. Dammit. They were gone.
A flash of auburn caught my eye.
“Rhona,” I blurted.
She paused, halfway into a room at the far end of the hall. “Lost it yet?”
“Can’t be sure. Would I know?”
“Usually. I smashed up the kitchen. Dad got drunk for a week. We’re pretty okay with breakdowns of all shapes and sizes at the manor. Stress is an ongoing thing to manage once you join the game.”
Good to know.
I sighed. “Maybe I should process what I know so far, but I’m a whole picture kind of person.”
She gestured inside her room. “Dad’s treating you like a wimp. Come in, cuz.”
Cuz.
I shut my door. Rhona would tell me like it was. That’s what I needed. Facts and answers. How else could I make an informed decision?
She kicked the door shut after me. “What you wanna know? How to kill the fuckers?”
Consider me surprised I could still laugh. “Maybe later. Your father said—”
“Your uncle?” She cut me off.
I considered that. “Nah, feels strange. Herc explained how the tribe reached this point. How does this even work. How is the town unaware werewolves exist? What are the rules?”
She stripped off, and I gawked at her rigid abs. “Will I need to get ripped like Rambo too?”
“Kind of naturally happens,” she replied. “I’m not a natural athlete, but our diet here, and the whole sprinting around for several hours each week on top of training… Yeah, you’ll look the same in no time. You’re in good shape already. Shouldn’t be too painful.”
The hills in town nearly defeated me.
Her room was surprisingly warm given her prickly nature. I studied the pictures of her and Herc, and others taken with friends. An old dollhouse sat in a corner, but not a speck of dust coated the roof. A patch-covered teddy rested on her bedroom vanity.
Black sheets on the bed were mostly covered by a hole-ridden quilt
It was like I was seeing Rhona’s heart.
This room felt much better than mine.
I lowered into a plush lounge chair in the far corner. My body was so sore. Was it the adrenaline fallout or emotional exhaustion?
“I’m ready,” I said.
“I see that. You’re appallingly together.”
A second laugh. Go me.
She sat cross-legged on the floor. “Dad usually does this talk, so bear with me a second.”
I studied her emerald eyes and thick dark auburn hair. So similar. Though where I might push my hair behind my ear while thinking, she scowled. Where I might
play music to relax, she’d probably punch someone.
“Here’s what’s what.” She leaned back against the wooden bed frame. “Old people call the game something else, but young people call it Grids because of the layout.” Her eyes darted over the old rug. “After the most recent war sixty years ago, both sides acknowledged only one team could prevail or the fighting would never stop. The game changed then. Only one side can now emerge the victor. The winner must exhibit the utmost care for this land, and they must conquer all battlefields.”
“One small question though. Does anyone die?”
She broke off. “Only accidents. The last death was twenty-two years ago. Grandmother Charise.”
I sucked in a breath. “Werewolves killed her?”
“They say not. Her neck was broken which is pretty hard to do yourself, really.”
I closed my eyes against that visual. She’d meant so much to my mother.
“Trapping, capturing, and shooting are fair game.” Rhona ticked off her fingers. “Though you should be aware the darts we shoot are tranquilisers, not lasers.”
They were real guns.
Well, more real than a laser gun.
She snorted. “Should I go on or do you need tequila?”
“Gin. But no, not yet.”
“Knew you were made of the good stuff. There are five battlefields—or grids—in the game. We play in one grid each week, and each grid is a different resource. The winner of the match gains the resources of that grid and all associated profit until it’s won from them.”
Whoa.
My mouth hung ajar. “That’s… far more complicated than I expected.”
She dipped her head. “We’ve never brought in someone who didn’t at least grow up in Deception Valley. I feel for ya while also wanting to see how much you can take before cracking.”
Bitch. My lips twitched. “Off topic. What happened the other day in my apartment? You seemed upset with me, and I had no idea why.”
She observed me with equal solemnity. “First, understand that I’m a bastard. This little chat is an outlier from which you should not draw conclusions. Secondly, I don’t like making friends that I may need to say goodbye to.”
I hugged my knees. “I don’t like making friends who could say goodbye to me.” And the same applied to lovers and family members.
The opposite issue.
We both found other places to look.
“Someone mentioned Timber that night in the forest. Is that one of the grids and resources?” I asked.
“Correct.”
“I’m not seeing how a grid profits the winner.”
“Businesses,” she grunted. “For Timber—sustainable logging. Construction. Furniture making. There’s a high-ropes course and biking tracks in there as tourist attractions. Each grid win comes with the handover of all its companies and current contracts for however long the pack or tribe manages to keep it.”
“What are the other grids?”
She checked off her fingers. “Sandstone, Water, Clay, and Iron. The battlefield changes our game strategy drastically. Imagine what we might do in Water compared to Sandstone for example. And don’t even get me started on Clay.”
I smiled at her so hard my teeth hurt.
Rhona cocked a brow. “There it is. You’re gone. When Dad asks, I didn’t tell you shit.”
My body shook.
“I’ll get some gin, cuz.” She patted my arm.
12
“We look the same, but I sure as fuck hope we don’t smell the same.”
Groaning, I rolled, clutching my head.
Rhona’s voice was amused. “I was impressed you drank the entire bottle without vomiting. Though you may regret that move this morning.”
I cracked open an eye.
Fresh-faced, she grinned.
“Stop smiling. Your teeth are too bright.” They hurt my head.
Her grin grew. “That’s a new one. Guess what though? Bet you feel too horrible to be scared of werewolves.”
My bad mood dropped further.
“Maybe not.” She tapped her bottom lip.
A knock sounded, and the door cracked open. “Rhona?”
“I’m not having sex, Dad. Which you know because you checked the hallway camera footage before coming here.”
He pushed the door open and lingered sheepishly in the frame.
I squinted at him. “Morning.”
He arched both brows. “Not a good one, I gather. How are you feeling other than extremely hungover?”
“Nothing.” Nausea and a headache didn’t leave room to question the existence of monsters. If a werewolf crossed in front of me, I’d watch them tootle past. Maybe half-heartedly kick an empty gin bottle their way.
Herc crossed his arms. “I could give you the drinking lecture Rhona received, but you’re far more put-together.”
“Hey!”
“Revenge is sweet.” He winked at his daughter over my head. “So are the pancakes cooking as we speak. Breakfast, then tour of the grounds.”
Rhona piped up, “I can’t. I’m going out with—”
“—both of you,” he called.
She flopped back. “Ugh.”
“Please don’t flop,” I said in panic, curling around my tumultuous stomach.
“I love not being the hungover one.”
“I liked you last night.”
“That was an outlier occasion, remember.”
So was me drinking that much. “What happened after I played with your doll’s house?”
“Yeah, Dad clearly hasn’t heard yet.”
Carefully, I opened both eyes. “That means what exactly?”
Rhona smirked, rolling out of bed. “Shower’s down the hall. Towels are in there. You can borrow my clothes.”
“That means what?”
“It’s nice to know you have a sense of humour.” She grabbed a robe by the door. “Oh, and I was thinking—I had time because it took hours to fall asleep to the melody of your snoring. We could be twins, and we are definitely using that to fuck with everyone here. Amiright?”
I inched to an upright position. Gin was the devil. “Did I smash something?”
“I mean, gin makes me cry. That wasn’t your problem.” She wriggled her fingers in a delicate wave, disappearing.
I brought my hands around her imaginary throat and choked her. I’d never felt sick after drinking.
Never again.
Fishing around, I searched for my phone.
I found it inside my bra along with grass streaks and black marks on my white summer dress.
Logan.
You’re a fucking bitch, you know that?
Cool. That was awesome to wake up to. I blocked his number and deleted the messages.
Unknown.
Andie.
I’m not sure what happened yesterday to upset you.
Let’s talk about it.
When you’re ready, you know where to find me.
My hands shook.
Alarick.
Standing, I ripped open Rhona’s drawers, pulling out a loose top and leggings. I stormed to the middle of the hall and glared at the line of people waiting for a shower.
The front girl blanched. “You can go ahead of me, Rhona.”
Rhona chose that moment to exit one of the shower stalls lining the wall.
Herc was right. Revenge was sweet.
“Get out of my way, Andie,” I snapped. “You’ll need to be sharper than that if you expect to survive here.”
She stared at me, and I bit back laughter, pushing into the stall she’d vacated.
“Don’t worry,” someone whispered outside. “Rhona gets like that sometimes. Everyone else is really nice, I promise.”
I grinned, stepping under the warm spray of water. I’d totally pay for that later.
Worth it.
Dressed in the borrowed clothing after, sans underwear, I surveyed the bounce of my boobs as I walked.
It was possible… my
braless state was extremely noticeable.
Oh well, better than the clothes Alarick touched me in—which I’d burn later.
Wandering down the stairs, my nose led me the rest of the way.
Pancakes. Bacon.
Conversation didn’t skip a beat as I entered the kitchen, and I marvelled at the happy bubble of conversation. Hundreds of years fighting a supernatural species the world knew nothing about. What did that even feel like?
No wonder they were such a tight unit.
“She’s mine.” Hands wrenched me onto the bench.
I pressed a hand over my mouth. “I will literally vomit on you.”
Wade gasped. “Bitchhole. You got drunk without me.”
“Yeah, it just happened.”
“No. Nuh-uh. One-night stands just happen. Surprise erections when you’re twelve just happen.”
I peeked up.
“Oh. Now that look is hard to resist.” He brought his face close to mine. “Stop it. It’s adorable. I can’t resist that bullshit. Okay, you’re forgiven.”
I grinned.
Cameron hauled me upright, and I found myself facing a plate heaped with greasy goodness.
“Are you vegan or stuff? I didn’t think to ask.” Cameron asked, staring at my plate of carnivorous pickings.
In answer, I picked up a slice of bacon and shoved it in my mouth.
She winked, and the pair dug into their food on either side of me.
I searched for Rhona and Herc, then studied the other occupants.
The three of us were amongst the youngest in the room, though I recalled seeing younger players in Timber.
Timber. My insides trembled. There was so much I didn’t know, yet what I did know was inconceivable.
A once-a-week battle for a resource.
Against werewolves.
“Who are all these people?” I whispered.
“The important folk,” Wade said loudly. “To be clear… though I’m important, Cameron and I usually aren’t here. Herc thought you may want company today and it gets me off work.”
Shifter Wars: Supernatural Battle (Werewolf Dens Book 1) Page 13