“Sorry I wasn’t there early enough to be much help last night,” he said simply. “But maybe this will make up for my lapse.” Then he waited like a good Samaritan holding out a crust of bread for a starving dog, letting the animal make the first advance toward a potential future partnership.
I bit. Well, not literally since I was neither dog nor wolf at the present moment. But I did step forward, leaving my pack behind and accepting the slip of paper that fluttered in the breeze of the ceiling fan.
A few lines of text, a modicum of fancy scrollwork at the top, an indented notary’s seal at the bottom. My brain took a couple of seconds to kick in and identify the offering as a birth certificate for Lupe. Then I did some quick mental calculations and found that Robert had fudged on the teenager’s date of birth, making the rogue eighteen—the age of human autonomy.
“I figured it was the simplest way to close the missing person’s case,” Robert said in answer to my questioning look. “Since Lupe is obviously no longer missing.”
The rogue glanced back and forth between us. Then she strode forward jerkily, snatching the paper out of my hand without bothering with human niceties like “please” and “thank you.”
She read the words with an effort, her lack of traditional schooling slowing down her own epiphany. Eventually, though, understanding illuminated the girl’s eyes and virtual rose petals fell from the ceiling like confetti as Lupe basked in her newfound independence.
That gratitude lasted for only a split second, though, before she glared at me. “Don’t think this means I’m turning into your lackey like those losers,” she muttered, glancing behind her at the rogues happily ensconced atop the bed.
“We can figure out the specifics later,” I acknowledged, not wanting to press the point. I’d called the hospital before collapsing the previous evening and found that Nina was stable and likely to be released within twenty-four hours. Lupe might choose to move in with her favorite teacher after that, helping the single parent through her late pregnancy and early motherhood while Nina continued to introduce the rogue to her human world.
Or perhaps the young woman would stay here after all, finding camaraderie with the other bloodlings who had spent their childhood on four paws. Either way, I’d insist that the rogue submit to regular lessons in shifter-hood. That, plus her well-developed spine, would ensure Lupe landed on her feet despite the upset caused by recent changes in her life.
Future efforts aside, no longer having to hide Lupe from her state-mandated guardians was a huge weight off my shoulders. Still, I remained edgily aware of the FBI agent’s continued presence. Robert appeared to be handling the array of predators sprawled across the room as well as could be expected, his posture now relaxed and his stance open. Yet the very fact that he’d come bearing gifts kept me on high alert. I couldn’t help thinking the one-body wanted something in exchange.
“What about the incriminating evidence you have on tape?” I asked, cutting straight to the punch.
“I showed the videos to my boss this morning,” Robert began, only to be drowned out by a cacophony of lupine growls and snarls.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the true danger in the room long enough to make sure the wolves were under control, but Hunter must have done something behind my back because the room abruptly went silent. Despite the lack of complaints, though, the air nearly vibrated with tension.
“You showed your boss?” I tried not to sound as scandalized as I felt. After all, I’d thought the one-body and I were on the same page. Clearly I’d been deluding myself.
“I showed my boss,” Robert confirmed. “And he suggested that I offer you a job. Well, not a full-time, butt-in-cubicle job like mine.” His face opened into a grin as his eyes sparkled. “But a consulting gig. To help us figure out what’s going on if we suspect a case might have supernatural elements. To tell us who we can call if we find a shifter gone bad. Because apparently werewolves police their own...and we’re good with that.”
Now I did turn away, my gaze meeting Hunter’s on the other side of the room. Yes, for better or for worse, werewolves did police their own. Whether my mate and I remained on the kosher side of that shifter law remained to be seen.
“Well?” Robert said after my silence had stretched out a little too long. “Are you interested?”
Expectant eyes bored into mine from the bed, from armchairs, from people leaning against the walls. Shifters whose wolves were ten times stronger waited patiently for me to speak. A one-body woman who had no reason to trust me smiled encouragingly in my direction. And a mate who was used to taking control ceded the floor, allowing me to make the decision that would change the course of all of our lives.
Looks like it’s time to put on my big-girl panties and act like an alpha after all. I took a deep breath and turned back around to face the FBI agent.
In the end, it wasn’t such a tough choice to make. Robert wasn’t a pack mate, but he was solid and his heart seemed to be in the right place. My pack could hardly ask for a better ally in the struggle that lay ahead.
“Okay,” I offered at least. “If that’s what it takes to keep werewolves safe, then I’ll do it.”
Chapter 30
“OKAY, TIME FOR YOU all to find something else to do. My daughter and I have things to discuss.”
Celia clapped her hands together authoritatively, and everyone up to and including the FBI agent and rogue bloodlings immediately obeyed her command. Only Hunter hung back, my trepidation gluing him to my side in a gallant gesture I couldn’t quite muster the energy to dismiss.
My mother looked back and forth between us, her gaze eventually settling on the clasped hands that I hadn’t even realized had jerked together as if magnetized as soon as my mate drifted within my reach. Her eyes narrowed and I got the distinct impression she was preparing to give the uber-alpha the third degree, as if he was the first boyfriend her teenage daughter had ever brought home.
Well, I wasn’t a teenager, but I guess Hunter was the first boyfriend I’d ever brought home. I couldn’t help chuckling inwardly at the thought.
Still, I would have been literally trembling in my boots if Ginger had allowed me time to pull on said footwear before bursting into my bedroom in the first place. In contrast, Hunter was taking his role as protector seriously, looming over my mother and applying that piercing glare that generally turned both shifters and humans alike into puddles of jelly.
I’m not sure which response did the trick. But whatever the impetus, Celia shrugged rather than lectured then walked around us to pull the door shut. “I guess Hunter can stay,” she said as she passed us by.
“I didn’t ask for permission,” my mate ground out.
“Well, you get it anyway,” my mother countered. Then, patting the bed as she sank down on one end, she commanded: “Sit.”
I complied, mostly because I wasn’t so sure how much longer my legs would hold me up in the face of my mother’s steely determination. Then, before Hunter could snarl a retort or Celia could embark upon whatever topic she had in mind, I dove into my much-delayed apology.
“I’m sorry about everything,” I told her, finding a speck of dirt on the carpet to focus on since I seemed to be physically incapable of meeting my mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry about dragging dozens of half-feral shifters onto your doorstep. I’m sorry about making you lie to your neighbors and invent a dog-rescue operation to cover for us. And I’m sorry about making you lose the home you worked so hard to create.”
The room remained ominously silent. Hunter hadn’t seated himself on command, instead remaining by my side as I perched beside Celia on the edge of the mattress. Now, his warm palm settled on my shoulder, imbuing me with the strength I needed in order to continue.
“But I want to make it up to you,” I went on. “Hunter and I are going to buy some land here in Arborville, make a place for us and our pack.”
Although, now that I said the words aloud, I suddenly saw the gaping flaw in our plan. Not j
ust the fact that Celia might not want us settling in her backyard, but also the general issue of finances.
Money had been remarkably easy to come by for the last month because Hunter’s Tribunal credit card paid for all and sundry. On the other hand, now that my mate’s job was up in the air and his relationship with Stormwinder hovered halfway between bad and worse, I wasn’t so sure how we’d feed ourselves in the near future. Building a clan home from scratch would be quite a feat under those circumstances.
Never mind. We’ll make it work somehow.
And I realized now how important it was to me for the plan to work with Celia rather than without her. So I forced my chin to cant upwards and my eyes to meet the same-colored orbs eighteen inches distant as I turned apology into plea. “I was hoping you might want to live there too,” I finished, my voice more squeak than whisper.
Celia’s brow was furrowed, her lips pursed, and I couldn’t quite resist the sinking sensation that developed in the pit of my stomach at the sight. The digestive organ in question was definitely getting a workout this morning—too bad I’d never managed to put any food in my mouth before all the drama erupted. Because from the expression on my mother’s face, I had a feeling I wasn’t going to be able to force sustenance past the tightness in my throat in the near future either.
“Fen...” she began.
I hunched my shoulders, bracing for the verbal blow that I knew was bound to come. Beside me, Hunter bristled and I abruptly wished I’d sent him out of the room with the rest of the pack. Because I didn’t think I could handle the pity that would soon enter my mate’s eyes...and I also didn’t want to have to physically restrain the uber-alpha to prevent him from assaulting my mother if she said something truly unkind.
Which, I had to admit, Celia had every right to say. After all, I’d come into her life uninvited and had proceeded to bring her perfect world down in a shambles about her ears.
We were invited, my wolf countered.
Okay, so maybe we’d technically been summoned to the cemetery...but no one could twist the truth enough to say that this eventuality was what my mother had in mind when she’d sent a funeral announcement to my old address last month. I turned my head away so I wouldn’t have to watch her face go hard, a lone tear welling up in each of my own eyes. I shouldn’t have opened my heart in the first place if I wasn’t ready to accept the possibility of having it broken.
“Fen,” my mother continued before I could act upon any of the thoughts stampeding through my brain. “I don’t know what you think you have to apologize for. You saved my life. But more than that, you’ve given me something to live for. When I sent out that card, I wished you’d come. I dreamed I’d finally get to explain why I’d been such a deadbeat mom. But I never dared hope that you’d accept me as your parent.”
She paused long enough to pull me into a hug and I clutched her more slender frame to my chest in awe. I should have taken a hint from the way my wolf lay quiescent and contented within my skin. My animal half had a tendency to understand the emotional undercurrents of the room long before I did and her lack of dread should have held my own misgivings in check.
Told you so, my wolf whispered into my shell-shocked brain.
“So you don’t want me to get out of your hair and leave you alone?” I asked a trifle damply into her shoulder.
Celia pushed me back gently so she could peer into my eyes. “Are you kidding me? I came up here to ask if you’d be willing to use your father’s life-insurance payment and my fire-insurance policy to settle down. Here in Arborville. With me.”
MY MOTHER’S EXPERIENCE as a real-estate agent came in handy over the next few days as she trolled through listings in search of the perfect home for our cobbled-together pack. For a while, though, I thought she’d gotten cold feet from the way she rejected each offering out of hand. One was too expensive, another too small, a third too remote.
Our rental house was starting to feel excessively cramped by this point, bursting at the seams as it was with dozens of unruly shifters. So I was glad to flee the premises when Celia showed up after work one evening with a big smile on her face. “I found it,” she said simply.
We piled into vehicles and followed her sporty car beyond the town limits, up through a series of winding foothills, and then down into a valley along a rutted gravel road. Finally, Celia eased to a halt in front of a ramshackle farmhouse at the base of a hillside peppered with what appeared to be a dozen small and medium-sized cottages.
“Rental cabins,” she said succinctly once we’d joined her outside. “The host family lived here in the main house, but they got old and let the place fall down around their ears. Their kids don’t want it, there aren’t enough tourists to make paying a staff worthwhile, and neither son nor daughter can stomach living in the sticks. Basically, the business is defunct.”
Car doors slammed shut behind us, lupine barks of excitement filled the air, and bloodlings spread out across the overgrown lawn. Several darted off into the trees and I had a sudden jolt of worry about neighbors with livestock and guns. “How big is the property?” I asked hurriedly.
My mother turned smug, like the cat who’d lapped up all of the cream. “A thousand acres.”
“A thousand?”
“It’s weedy second-growth timber, too young to be valuable. And the hillside is so steep the topsoil would erode away if you cut down the trees again.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “The owners are pretty sure it’s worthless.”
I knew better than to think Celia would really rip off her clients, so I asked again just to be certain. “We can afford it?”
“We can afford it...with enough money left over to hire a construction crew to make the place livable.” My mother’s gaze drifted down to the hands that had once again clinched together between me and my mate. This time, she smiled at the gesture. “Go ahead. Take a look and see what you think.”
After walking through the farmhouse, I had to admit that the city-slicker owners were probably right. The place was ragged around the edges and would require plenty of elbow grease to keep us from falling through the floor or freezing our toes off in the winter. But I could easily envision the existing shell being turned into a community space where our pack could work and play together, the exuberant energy of young shifters unlikely to cause any more damage than time had already done.
The cabins were significantly better preserved. Mostly, though, I was drawn to their level of remoteness since each small structure was connected to the next via a series of tantalizing sylvan pathways. The distance in between was sufficient to keep shifter ears from picking up on neighbors’ conversations without causing pack-bound werewolf sensibilities to feel overly bereft. Perfect.
It was only when the summer evening began to descend into night, though, that I knew we’d found home. Hunter and I sat on the porch of the topmost cabin, our legs dangling over the edge since the rocking chairs I could envision filling the space were notably absent. Before us, lightning bugs rose from the tall grasses, from the canopies of the nearby trees, and from the dim recesses beneath the overarching limbs. In the distance, hoots of laughter attested to our pack mates’ enjoyment of the freedom of vast open spaces, and I even caught a hint of my mother’s voice raised in song way down in the valley.
“What do you think?” Hunter asked at last, his voice a rumble of security that beat back the darkness of the approaching night. He was still grasping my fingers, and now he raised his own palm so he could press a kiss against the backside of my hand. The gesture sent a tremor of pleasure up my arm and down my spine.
“I think it’s perfect,” I admitted. “I think Celia will be happy here. I think our clan will be happy here. And I know I’ll be happy here. How about you?”
“I think this land and our pack suit each other to a T,” he answered, pulling me yet closer so my shoulder slipped into the warm cavity beneath his arm. I fit perfectly, like a round peg in a round hole.
I’d assumed my ma
te was finished speaking, and I was content to just sit together in silence and watch night fall over the land. But Hunter wasn’t done quite yet.
“We’re a bit ramshackle and we might look worthless from a distance,” he murmured. “But our bones are sturdy and our foundation is strong. I’m honored to be a part of your pack.”
Then together, the band in question—Hunter and I, a couple dozen rogue bloodlings, a pair of trouble twins, two steadfast pack mates, and my long-suffering mother—all sank our roots into the deep soil of our new clan home.
Wolf Landing
Chapter 1
TEN DAYS UNTIL ALL-Pack. Ten days until a council of my peers would claim the right to decide whether my found family was fit to exist and whether I was fit to lead said pack. Ten days until I’d either win big, or everything I’d worked so hard to create would be ripped out of my grasp forever.
Ten days until All-Pack...and my wolf was still acting like a spoiled child. Fur form now, she demanded.
I stretched my neck from side to side until it popped then inhaled a deep breath through my nose in an attempt to refrain from strangling my weaker half. Too bad my wolf was only virtually present within my skin at the present moment and not available for manual asphyxiation. Time for a little bout of channeling my previous alpha.
What would Wolfie do? I pondered. Well, that was an easy one—Wolfie would be patient. So I strove to keep my temper in check as I reined in my inner beast. No, I informed her. We can’t shift now. Don’t you see the humans standing all around us?
“Sense something, Fen?” my investigative partner asked, drawing me out of my silent conversation. For a human, Robert was awfully adept at picking up on the subtleties of body language. So I wasn’t entirely surprised that he’d noticed signs of my inner battle...despite both his feet and his face currently pointing in the opposite direction.
Alpha Underground Trilogy Page 39