by C. P. Rider
"I'm talking about how he died."
"Saul Roso killed him. The Vegas alpha? He was hunting me."
"Yes, I heard. Your fiancé's brother? For the love of Pete, Cornelia. Why didn't you tell me any of this?" There was a muffled scratchy sound, as if he were switching the phone from one ear to the other. "You were obviously in danger and you didn't say a thing."
"Ex-fiancé. Look, Dad…" Talking to my father was an exercise in patience any day, and today had been long and hard. "Tío was a wolf shifter and he couldn't beat Roso. I'm a telepathic spiker and I barely made it out alive. You're human. What exactly would you have done against a top-of-the-food-chain predator like Saul Roso?"
"Filled that wolf's ass full of silver-coated lead. Damn it, José was supposed to watch over you. That was the deal. I sent you away with him so you'd be safe."
"He did watch over me, I—wait, what did you say? Deal? Sending me away was part of a deal you made with my uncle?"
"Yes." Gotta love my dad. When he answers me at all, he's blunt.
"I don't even know what to say to that. It should surprise me, but it doesn't. It sounds exactly like something you would do."
Dad and I had a complicated relationship. To be honest, a lot of my familial relationships have been complicated in ways that would give any psychologist worth her salt serious pause.
"Now, sweetheart, don't get upset."
Ooo, I did not like that. The condescending low note in his voice when he said the word "now" made me feel like a child.
"Dad, do me a favor and don't tell me how to react."
"There was a lot going on back then that you didn't understand."
"I'm certain that's true. But I'm thirty years old now and I think I can handle hearing why you thought sending me away at thirteen years old and almost never visiting was a good idea."
"I know you're thirty," he said, purposely missing the point, I'm sure. "Happy birthday, Cornelia. Where does the time go? Did you get my gift?"
He always sent money. I'd gotten a notification from my bank earlier today telling me that I was five hundred dollars richer. "Yes. You didn’t have to do that. Thank you."
"Buy something pretty with it." He spoke to someone in the background. The voices were muffled, so he had to have covered the phone with his hand.
"You can push mute, you know," I muttered.
"It's fine. I don't mind you hearing. Just work stuff."
Then why had he bothered putting his hand over the phone? Besides, it was after eleven, my dad worked construction, and I didn't hear any construction sounds in the background. I supposed they could be painting or mudding drywall somewhere, but it was still odd.
"You're working this close to midnight?"
"Side job. Client wants it done by Friday so the crew's pulling an all-nighter."
It made sense, but it sat funny with me. I didn't push him on it, though. I had something else I wanted to push him on.
"Dad, I know you're busy, but I can't let this go. What was going on that was so serious you sent me away with Tío José? I assure you, my comprehension has improved since I was a teenager, and there's no longer any need for you to protect me."
He went silent. I wasn't surprised. My dad was nothing if not consistent.
"You aren't going to tell me, are you?"
His responding sigh was loud and drawn out. "It's not something you say over the phone. But as soon as I see you, I will."
"Guess that means I'll hear about it, uh, never? Since you wouldn't even come out for Tío's funeral."
His tone went from conciliatory to annoyed in a heartbeat. "Couldn't—not wouldn't. I would have if…" He cleared his throat and calmed his voice. "I can't explain why. You'll just have to trust me."
It was becoming evident to me that my trust issues extended to more than just alpha leaders, because I was certain, no matter what he said to the contrary, that my dad had no intention of ever telling the truth about why he'd sent me away.
"Come home, Cornelia. To Austin."
"Austin?" I sat up in my bed, crossed my legs beneath my covers. "Did you sell the house in Manor?"
"I moved into the city a few years ago." Muffled voices returned to the background. This time they sounded urgent. "Listen, your uncle is gone. There's nothing holding you in Sundance. I have a big house here, plenty of room."
"I have a bakery." And a kind of boyfriend, but I kept that to myself. He'd want to know details—name, rank, serial number type stuff—and I didn't have it in me to defend Lucas to him right now.
"Sell it."
"I don't want to move." Second guy this week to ask. Texas must really want me back.
"Cornelia, there are some dangerous things happening right now and I would like for you to be where I can see that you're safe."
You aren't kidding there are dangerous things happening right now. Why, just last month my boyfriend and I killed another maniacal alpha leader who wanted to make me a crossbreed, and now it looks like I've got a rogue wolf sniffing around my bakery. On the plus side, I've been drugged by so many alphas wanting to kidnap me, I'm starting to develop a resistance to tranquilizers…
Yeah. Not going there with him. Instead, I took a page out of Lucas's manual on deflective sarcasm. "Could you be more cryptic? What the hell is going on? Just talk to me." I started to lay back on my pillow but sat up straighter instead. "Wait a minute. How did you find out about Saul Roso and Tío?" Was he spying on me?
Another silence.
"Oh good. I was worried you were going to be straight with me for once. Thanks for living up to my low expectations, Dad."
"Sweetheart, I want to tell you. I really do." The phone made that noise again, the one that told me he was switching it from one ear to the other. "You won't move out here, but would you come visit, at least? I'll tell you everything."
"Everything?" Because I wasn't buying that for a minute.
"Everything I can," he said, which was Dad-speak for "I'll say whatever will shut you up."
"I'll think about it." That was Neely-speak for "not likely."
I ended the call without promising anything. A petty part of me felt good giving Dad a taste of his own medicine. I'd spent too many years waiting for him to show up on my birthday and Christmas, only to be disappointed when he called and apologized—again. It took a couple years, but I finally stopped looking for him, and I was relieved when he stopped pretending he might make it.
A mom who left me as a child and a dad who dumped me as a teen. No wonder I had issues with trust. I'd be a much bigger mess if it weren't for my tío… And now I didn't even have him.
Nope. Not going there. Not tonight.
Thanks to my dad, I was now wide awake. And hungry. There wasn't a single crumb of food in my apartment. There were pastries—and cake—in the bakery, but nothing savory. I'd been eating at Lucas's lately and hadn't bothered to stock my fridge. Guess I was going grocery shopping in La Paloma tomorrow after dropping off the cookies.
In the meantime, I decided to head over to Sundance Auto to pick up some snacks. King sold wrapped sandwiches from the Dusty Cactus saloon in the minimart, and though that didn't sound as good as another slice of my birthday cake, I figured it would be much better for my blood sugar, especially considering the cookies I'd had for "dinner."
I put on a pair of sweatpants under my nightgown, slipped my fuzzy-socked feet into my sneakers, and shuffled across the street to see King Jones.
It was in the low fifties tonight—cold by Sundance standards—and I was chilled by the time I reached the twenty-four-hour service station. I pushed open the heavy glass door and was greeted by a rush of warm coffee and motor oil scented air. It was a strangely welcoming combination. Earp and King sat on either side of the front counter with a carved wood chess set between them.
"Look who's come to see us," Earp said when he saw me. "Hello, Miss Neely."
"Hi, Earp. Hi, King."
King glanced up from the game board, nodded his hello.
"Alpha didn't send you to pick up the Rezvani, did he? Because I'm waiting on a part."
"No, you're good." I glanced around the store, homed in on the snack section. "I still can't believe he took Malcolm's tank."
"It's a quality piece of machinery," Earp said.
Jedidiah Earp was somewhere around seventy years old, built lean and wiry, with perpetually sunburned white skin, and gray-blue eyes. The Gila monster shifter wore a pair of baggy sweatpants and nothing else, so I figured he'd arrived in animal form and shifted to human here.
"Yeah, but it's creepy to ride around in a dead dude's car."
"Alpha could have taken everything, you know," King said. "That he only took the Rezvani speaks highly of his character."
"Plus, not having to deal with the other assets means he can wash his hands of the Malcolm shifters once and for all," I said.
"And there's that." King picked up one of his pieces and moved it two spaces.
King Jones was between forty and fifty, built heavy and solid, with dark black skin and eyes. He sat behind the counter so all I could see was his gray T-shirt, but if he was dressed normally, he probably had on a jeans and Redwing work boots.
Earp sniffed. "Well, I sure hope you didn't come to play chess with this one here, because he cheats."
"Every time he loses, he says I cheat." King's low, deep voice rumbled through the small store as he slowly rolled his eyes from the board to me.
"Not every time." Earp scowled as King claimed one of his pieces. I knew only a little about chess, but since the piece was in the front and it looked like the game had just begun, I assumed it was a pawn.
King stood and stretched, joints popping all over his muscled body. Shifted, he took the form of a lion, and he carried a little of his animal in the stalking way he moved as a human. "What's our resident baker doing up so late?"
"I'm hungry and I'm out of food. Do you have any sandwiches left?"
"Nope. Sold them all to a convoy of off-roaders an hour ago. You could make some noodle soup, though. Packets are over there. Hot water is by the coffee machine."
When I made to pay, King shook his head. "Bring me a mantecada the next time you make them. Love those muffins."
"Okay." I'd bring him a dozen and he'd insist on paying, and when I flat refused to take his money, he'd still sneak payment to me somehow. Usually I found it in my pocket when I got back to the bakery. We'd done this before.
"You still thinking about bringing some of your pan dulce over for me to sell here?" King asked. "I'd put it out after hours, if you're worried about me taking business from your place."
"I'm not worried. I need to get organized is all. I'll bring some over soon."
We agreed on a date and a price, and I went over to the hot water dispenser to make my noodles. I also grabbed a sleeve of crackers and a bottle of water that King wouldn't take money for. I'd need the water to wash the sodium out of my system after eating the noodles. When my soup was ready, I plopped onto a stool by the dining counter at the window and dug in.
"Alpha says you have a wolf stalker." King wasn't a man to mince words, something I mostly appreciated, except for tonight, when I just wanted to eat my noodles and not think about some weirdo paranormal who may or may not be hunting me.
"That's the word on the street," I replied, slurping down a vegetable-flavored noodle.
"Well, King and I are keeping an eye on the bakery from now on," Earp said. "Nobody comes into our town threatening one of our own and gets away with it, right?"
The big man gave me a sharp, quick nod. "I now have a security camera pointed at the exterior of your building. If anyone is sniffing around, we'll know."
I was touched by their concern. "Thanks. I appreciate it."
Earp moved one of his pawns. "And I'm doing patrols. It ain't like I sleep much anyway."
"Same here." King snagged the pawn Earp had just moved, and then chuckled when the older man cursed.
"Now, that wasn't fair."
"It was completely fair," King said. "You just didn't like it."
In the ensuing quiet, punctuated by Earp's occasional cuss word and King's subsequent low rolling laugh, I finished my soup, half the crackers, and all the water. I cleaned my mess, said my goodbyes, and took the leftover crackers home.
The rear parking lot of the bakery had assumed a shadowy, ominous look tonight—or rather, this morning, as it was after midnight when I left King's place. I had just stepped inside and locked the back door, when a shivery sensation like spider feet crept across my scalp, over the back of my neck, and down my spine.
There was something wrong with the air. It didn't smell right. It didn't feel right. I reached out with my ability—something I should have done from the other side of the door.
Someone was in my kitchen.
Figuring I had zero time to waste, I pulled power from the atmosphere instead of waiting for it to come to me. My ability, along with the force of the energy I drew, told me there were at least four alphas in my bakery. All strong. I hoped it wasn't the bears again. For their sakes. Lucas wouldn't give them a second chance to leave alive.
Once I had enough energy spooled inside me, I yelled, "All right, who's your goddamn alpha leader?"
Something smacked the back of my head and I stumbled forward. A needle pricked my upper arm, and the world went blurry, then faded to black.
Chapter Seven
"I didn't do this to her, I saved her," a male voice yelled.
"Shut up." Chandra's voice seethed with anger. It was also deeper than her usual voice, so she was likely in hybrid form.
I opened my eyes. I was lying on the kitchen floor, but not where I last remembered. I was near the stairs leading up to my apartment, and there were three half-shifted people clustered around me.
"Lucas?" I couldn't see him, but I felt him and knew he was near.
"I'm here, sugar cookie. You okay?"
I widened my eyes, stretched open my mouth. My throat was dry, and my head felt too light. "I was drugged."
"Yeah, we found the syringe. Human-grade sedative. Spelled, which was how it took you down so fast. Damn magic," Chandra said. She'd shifted entirely back to human in the time it took me to focus on her. "Hits fast but doesn't last long. You okay?"
"Yes." Slowly, I sat up. My stomach lurched. "I mean, no. Oh, I don't feel—I might barf."
"She needs to go to the hospital. She has a concussion," that same male voice, familiar but not placeable in my confused brain, snarled. I couldn't see him. The shifters in front of me—Amir and Chandra—blocked him from my sight.
Amir touched a tender spot on my scalp, and I hissed in pain. "There's an injury on the back of her head."
I heard something crash and Lucas shoved his way through his security team. He was in Bengal hybrid form, and he shifted all the way to human as he knelt in front of me in loose black sweatpants, shirtless and shoeless. His change was seamless and so fast. Too fast, maybe. A fine sheen of perspiration coated his skin. His glowing golden eyes had a feral edge as he examined my head. Lucas might appear human, but his tiger was still front and center inside of him.
Someone let out a low growl. Lucas's eyes glowed brighter in response.
Chandra immediately disappeared from my sight. "Keep your wolf quiet, Roso."
"Roso?" Bile rose in my throat and panic jolted through me as I pulled power from the alphas in the room. Saul Roso was back? That wasn't possible. I kicked away from Lucas and the others, tried to crawl up the stairs. It wasn't possible. He was dead. Lucas and I had killed him.
"It's okay, calm down."
"How can it be him, Lucas?" I rose up on all fours and shot halfway up the stairs before he grabbed my ankle and stopped me.
"It's not that Roso," he said softly.
"Neels."
The moment I heard my old nickname I knew it wasn't Saul Roso. I stopped fighting, sat up on the nearest tread, and glanced around the room. From my vantage point, I could see everything. Amir stood on
the crushed sleeve of crackers by the back door. Lucas was directly below me on the stairs, holding on to my ankle. Chandra had a man pinned to the wall.
Recognition hit me like a punch to the gut. "Julio?"
My ex-fiancé looked the same, but also not. His jet-black hair had been chopped short, his slim, runner's body had bulked with muscle, the spark in his green eyes had dimmed. He was Julio, but he looked more like Saul, his older brother. The wolf shifter who'd killed my uncle.
Chandra released him and he walked slowly toward me. "Baby, I found you."
Lucas's grip on my ankle tightened.
"You're dead." I could not take my eyes off him.
Julio shook his head. "My brother believed I was. It was the only way I could escape after you left."
"You're dead," I repeated.
"It's him," Lucas said.
Several seemingly unrelated thoughts connected in my brain and my gaze dropped to Lucas's. "Julio is the 'him' you were talking to Chandra about on the phone. The one you didn't want me to know about."
"Yes."
"Was he also the wolf you caught sniffing around my bakery?"
He averted his eyes, nodded.
"You should have told me." I jerked my ankle free.
Lucas scowled and opened his mouth as if he might want to argue, but in the end, he simply said, "Yes. I should have."
My gaze kept being drawn to, and oddly repelled by, Julio's face. To give myself a moment to process things, I turned away from him and concentrated on the rest of the room.
"What happened to my kitchen?" Blood was spattered on the walls and floor. I was going to be scrubbing for hours tonight and I was already wiped out. Even if I got the place clean in time, I wouldn't have the energy to open tomorrow. Thank God the sugar cookies were safely tucked away in the cooler.
Chandra answered. "Another kidnapping attempt. Gold pack out of Colorado Springs."
"With the bears, that makes two different groups out of Colorado this week," Amir said.
"Who is Alpha Gold?" I focused on a smear of blood on the wall beneath the shelf that held the old radio.
"Coyote alpha. She recently challenged and killed the old alpha there," Amir glanced at Lucas. "None of us know much else about her. Sorry, Alpha."