by J. K Harper
“Channing and I met Kurt many years ago at an author reading at a private house in Durango. He instantly noticed me gazing at all the books, and came right up to tell me about his own collection.” Despite Otsana's light tone, Rielle sensed a subtext beneath the words. “As it turned out, he enjoyed many of the same authors we did, and he already owned a significant portion of the library you see here today.” Otsana waved an elegant hand around the room. “Kurt is quite good with children, and I thought his knowledge of historic battles might be a way for Caleb to express some of his,” and here she hesitated so briefly on the word Rielle almost missed it, “aggressions in a safe environment.”
“Mom.” Now Caleb definitely sounded a bit embarrassed.
Otsana smiled at her son. “I just meant that we knew you would be thrilled to read about ancient warriors and battle plans and military strategy. It was a way to help you focus. And not only did it work, you also found a mentor in Kurt.”
The look Otsana shot Kurt was filled with genuine appreciation, and something else Rielle still couldn't put her finger on. Caleb was oblivious to the exchange as he busied himself with another scone and avoided looking at anyone while his mother told tales about his cubhood, but Rielle sensed hidden nuances swirling through the room.
After tea, Kurt graciously offered to take Rielle on a stroll through his gardens. As Caleb rose to join them, Otsana shook her head. “Stay here with me. I want to have a quick word with you while Kurt shows off his prize roses.”
“Prize everything, in that garden,” Kurt returned with mock huffiness, though he looked at Rielle with a quick, cheerful wink as he once again tucked her arm under his and ushered her out.
Caleb watched them go, the ferocious expression on his face mingling that keen interest he'd been showing in Rielle as well as what might be a touch of—jealousy? Or maybe it was possessiveness. Rielle smiled at him as she was escorted out. One corner of his lips turned faintly upward at that. Her wolf murmured again, low and fierce, Mine.
Kurt hadn't been joking about his flowers. The gardens out back were magnificent and lush, albeit tucked into sizable greenhouses. He shrugged in minor apology as they stepped over the threshold into one. “Air's a bit too rare up here, and the growing season far too short, for proper gardens to flourish outside. These have to do for me. And they do quite well,” he added with obvious pride coating his words.
“These are amazing!” Rielle still felt somewhat spun around by the fascinating strangeness of the evening. From the library to this odd but interesting human to Caleb's revelation about cage-fighting—and she really would have to ask him more about that later—she still felt a bit like she'd fallen into that rabbit's hole and emerged into a rather bizarre landscape. “This entire evening has been an enchantment.” She found herself subconsciously slipping into Kurt's speech patterns. “Where are you from originally? Certainly not here. Your voice sounds very American, but I don't really think you were raised in the wilds of Colorado.”
She smiled as she spoke, and pulled away from him to take a closer look at some delicate, blushing rose blooms and the healthy greenery, all arranged throughout the space with a very neat, deliberate precision.
Kurt chuckled. “I knew you'd pick up on it. Caleb said you're extremely perceptive.”
Rielle flushed with warmth again as she thought of the big wolf waiting for her inside the house. She wandered over to some pretty light purple flowers climbing a trellis and leaned close to take in their scent.
“I was born in Norway, and stayed there until I was a young man.”
“Mm-hmm,” Rielle said politely as she inspected the flowers more closely. Clematis, maybe?
“We were being persecuted in our native land, and finally engaged in bloodshed. We lost many and needed to find a safer place to start fresh. So we moved to the colonies and made our way to the wildest mountains we could find. Those ended up being here in what is now called Colorado. ”
His words penetrated her thoughts with sudden clarity. Slowly, Rielle straightened up and turned to face Kurt Tunstall. He was standing several feet away, hands lightly clasped behind his back, watching her very intently. Her wolf came close to the surface, alerted by Rielle's confusion and sudden wariness.
“I'm sorry—did you say colonies?” Her mind did some quick math. He was in his 70s, possibly 80s? There were no colonies to speak of when he was a young man. Colorado was a state already. Rielle knew her wolf stared out of her eyes, thoroughly alarmed, focused, and suddenly deadly.
“Yes, my dear,” he said in a calm voice. “Do have your wolf settle down. There is nothing to fear.”
Rielle's mouth literally dropped. She backed up. Kurt smiled, and for an instant she thought she saw regret in it.
“My name is Kurtis Tunstall, and my family began the Black Mesa Wolf Pack over 300 years ago.”
13
Under his mother's suggestion, Caleb helped her clear the table after Kurt had escorted Rielle outside. He could still smell Ree's delicate, tempting scent in the room. It kept his wolf alert and eager.
“This was a good idea,” his mother said as they carried delicate china plates back to Kurt's kitchen. The kitchen was crazy big, filled with sleek appliances and cooking things Caleb figured wouldn't be out of place in some fancy restaurant. He'd always had good meals every time he visited Kurt.
“Coming here?”
“Yes.” His mother gently deposited the nice glasses next to the sink before turning to look at him. Her expression made him suddenly wary. He knew that look. He was about to get some sort of lecture.
“She is a lovely girl, Caleb. She's always kind to everyone in the Pack, not to mention strangers she has just met.”
“Mm-hmm?” He drew out the sound into a suspicious question.
Otsana laughed gently. “She has been a softening influence on you, my most ferocious son. And you have recognized that.” Something that sounded like pride touched her words.
Caleb snorted. “I don't think she sees me as remotely soft. In fact, I think she's seen me at”—he stumbled a bit—“um, maybe some of my more, uh, ferocious best.” He scratched his nose, suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin. “But that's why I wanted to bring her here. I knew she'd love this place, and they could talk history and all sorts of stuff together. For a human, he's pretty cool.”
Otsana's green eyes studied her son, that smile making her penetrating gaze slightly less intense. Slightly.
“Indeed. And what you just said proves my point. You have a very good heart, Caleb.” She reached out to pat his arm in reassurance. “And you are thinking about Rielle's needs.”
Caleb shifted on his feet as his thoughts swung to exactly what Rielle might need from him. His wolf sat up, focused strongly on the dark little female wolf. Sternly, Caleb reined in all such thoughts for the moment. Bad enough his mother definitely had sensed the attraction between him and Rielle. She sure didn't need to pick up on the direction his mind went when he imagined Rielle's soft lips opening to his in total abandon.
“She is very good for you, Caleb. You need her. And quite frankly, she needs you, too.”
Caleb drummed his fingers against his thigh as he leaned back against a dark grey granite countertop. “Hmm,” was all he could muster. Why were women always needing to be so touchy-feely and have to discuss things like this? Especially his own mother, for crying out loud. He looked around the kitchen, suddenly desperate to escape.
Otsana patted his arm again, the gesture an unconscious mix of the natural intimacy of wolves and a mother's seemingly endless need to protect her cubs, no matter how old or “ferocious” they were. “I suspect Rielle will be learning a great many things in the near future. She is also greatly needed by her pack right now.”
Caleb tensed as he picked up on the hint of concern in Otsana's voice. His wolf whined, worried by the Alpha's mate's worry.
“She is a vital part of the Black Mesa Pack. And you, my son, need to remind her of that. I think you are
the only one who truly can, right now.”
“She's part of the Pack. She knows that.” Despite his words, he wondered how well Ree understood that. Sure, she'd been forced to stay at the den recently, interacting more with her own kind than she had in years. But she still seemed kind of distant when she was there. Like she wasn't sure she belonged.
Hmm.
“Wait a minute,” he said. His brain furiously turned over, trying to figure out what Otsana meant. “Of course she knows she's part of the Pack. She's our historian. She's Pack. She's—” He cut himself off. He'd been about to say, She's my mate.
Whoa.
“Short of her Alpha's order to interact more with the Pack,” Otsana added with a wry twist of her lips, “I believe Rielle thinks she would be content to spend more time in the human world. Of course we allow that. For any Pack member. But she has let herself be drawn too far away from her wolf. Her Pack needs her, Caleb,” his mother said very gently. “And I do believe you need her.”
Argh. Sure, that might be true, but hearing his own mother say it was making him twitch.
Caleb began to sidle toward the kitchen door and freedom from brain-twisting conversations.
“She settles you,” Otsana said, eyeing her son carefully. “And intrigues you. Yes?”
Caleb heaved a nervous sigh at his mother's insistence on discussing squicky things like feelings, but he nodded. The more he got to know the bewitching little dark wolf, the more he wanted to know her. In fact, he kind of wanted to understand every single little thing about her. And he wanted her to understand everything about him.
He wasn't even sure that last part was possible, given he didn't know what the hell he was thinking or meaning half the time himself. But somehow, he sensed Rielle just—got him. She sure as hell could soothe him just by her presence. Well, except sometimes with that tongue of hers, which seemed to lash at him when he acted like an idiot.
Thinking of her tongue made him shuffle his feet again. Man, he needed to end this, and quick. His mother already had a knowing little grin on her face, along with all that maternal pride and worry and whatever else jumbled up into one expression. His brain was starting to short-circuit from it all.
“Um, yeah.”
“Remember you intrigue her, too. And she needs you. Her wolf needs you,” Otsana said. Uneasiness roughened her voice again. Caleb frowned, despite still heading for the door.
“Okay.”
Otsana smiled, the worry fading from her face. “Enough from your mother, then. I just want you to understand how important you are to her.”
Despite the weirdly naked vulnerability he felt at listening to his own mother discuss his love life with him, Caleb also felt suddenly warmed inside as he thought about the sweet little wolf in question. He wanted to go see her right now as much as he wanted to escape this conversation. “Got it. Thanks. Um, I'll go see how Kurt's flowers are doing. Make sure he isn't putting Rielle to sleep by going on about them too much. Be right back.”
He made a real break for the door and fled outside toward the garden. He thought he might have heard a tiny chuckle from his mother, but decided it best not to look back.
* * *
Rielle extended all her senses, using her wolf to amplify them. The old man looking at her with a compassionate expression was human. Utterly human. Not a whiff of wolf about him. Rielle would have sensed that as soon as she met him, at any rate. Not to mention Otsana and Caleb would have told her. Silent, she stared at him. Despite his suggestion, her wolf hadn't backed down one iota. Rielle could feel her still staring out her eyes, which were likely bright and fixed on the man like the suddenly alarmed predator she was.
Kurt smiled at her. “Oh, I know, my dear. As the Pack's historian, you should have known about me, is what you're thinking, correct? The previous historian did.”
If it were possible, Rielle's eyes widened even more at this revelation.
“He knew from the beginning. However, he had known me as a Pack member. He had been there through it all. And, under orders from the Alpha, he did not record any of it. Nor did he ever mention it to anyone. It is one of the best-kept secrets in the Black Mesa Pack. In all of the shifter world, actually.”
The old historian had died three years ago. Rielle had always spent time learning from him, since history was such a passion of hers, but information like this had never come up. She still wasn't even sure exactly what the information was. What on earth was this man telling her? He had been a Pack member? That was impossible. This man was human.
Kurt's eyes were slightly cast away from hers as he spoke, despite the care evident on his face. He was not looking directly at her, not challenging her wolf. How could a human possibly know to do that?
She finally allowed a short, “Please explain.”
He sighed. “You shouldn't have had to know for years yet, my dear. But things being the way they are right now, and with Caleb's fortuitous idea to bring you here, it seemed best to share the knowledge with the Pack's current historian.”
“He didn't mention anything about you,” she said, a little sharply. She wasn't sure if the edge to her voice came from the situation or the thought Caleb would keep something like this from her. With a prickle that might almost have been tears, she realized she'd allowed herself to hope they were getting a little closer.
“Oh, my dear.” His voice held deep kindness. “That is because he does not know. The only shifters alive who know about my existence are Channing and Otsana Bardou. And now, Rielle Amoux is included in that very short list.”
Still unmoving, Rielle realized her wolf was as still and nearly breathless as she, keeping a wary eye on this human with his fantastic tale. She felt more like what she was than she ever had before: a wolf, a predator very carefully judging a potentially dangerous situation and possible foe. The thrill of the adrenaline pulsing through her made her feel more alert and alive than ever as well. Maybe except for when Caleb had kissed her. That still topped the charts.
“I don't understand.” The scents of the pretty flowers around them in the charming but utterly normal gardens heightened the incongruity of the moment.
Kurt steepled his fingers in front of his mouth, appearing to collect his thoughts. She recognized the organizational process of a deep thinker, so similar to her own. Despite this familiarity, her wolf would not relinquish her suspicious observation of the man in front of her. There would be no backing down until Rielle fully understood the situation.
Finally, he sighed. “I don't have time for the entire story right now. One day we shall have tea and scones again, and I will share every single detail with you, as befits the keeper of records for a pack. For the moment, though, this shall have to suffice.
“Not too long after we settled in these mountains and created our territory, I had a mate and cubs.”
Rielle's eyebrows rose at this crazy statement, but she silently let him continue.
“Four fine children, the kindest, smartest mate a wolf could ever have, and a place in the so-called New World our pack could call our own. It was a fine time in my life.” Old sadness tinged his words, but clearly the passage of time had assuaged the worst of some sort of grief he'd experienced.
Rielle absorbed the words as they came, filing away her disbelief so she could concentrate on the essence of what he told her.
“About fifty years after we settled here, a neighboring pack moved in, with the welcome of our Alpha. A few more packs came to the outlying areas, such as the Silver Mountain pack.”
Lily's mate Kieran's home pack, whose territory was north of the Black Mesa Pack's. Rielle gave one sharp nod but kept her eyes trained on Kurt's wrinkled old face.
“Things were mostly peaceful, with the usual exceptions here and there. I kept myself out of it, as I was a historian, not a Guardian. I always did prefer reading and good conversation over claws and bloodshed. Most shifters, of course, focus more on the animal instincts.” Kurt shrugged, an elegant and thoroughly human g
esture. “I'd always loved our human side quite a bit, what with its fascinating history and drama and cultural differences. And I never much liked hunting. Venison always tasted too gamey to me.” He winked at Rielle, his naturally flirtatious side surfacing despite the steadiness of his voice and the casualness of his stance while he told his story. “At any rate, we did have skirmishes and problems with rogues, as every pack in the history of shifters has.”
Suspending at least some of her disbelief at his words, Rielle nodded again. Her mind quickly skimmed the history of rogue wolves in the shifter world. Like humans, wolf shifters had individual personalities and desires that sometimes deviated from the generally accepted. It was more rare in the shifter world, what with the deeply instinctual focus on safety in numbers and the hierarchy of pack life, but it happened historically and it certainly happened now.
Yes, her wolf murmured at her, projecting a sense of loss and lonesomeness all the times Rielle had been focusing so strongly on the human world. Biting back her gasp at the sudden melancholy that filled her, Rielle managed to keep her face neutral as she listened.
“About two hundred years ago, there was a particularly bad incursion by a small but deadly rogue wolf pack.” His voice held neither scorn nor rancor; he merely recited facts with the attitude of a dispassionate observer. “They were determined, they were desperate, they were driven. There was still little human presence in our area—mostly Indians at the time. It was a prime area for wolves, most of whom enjoyed living as a wolf more of the time than as a human. I was the exception, of course. My mate spent more time as a human to be with me, but our cubs were wolf shifters to the soul.” A wistful tone overlay his words. “They loved tussling together, seeing who was the strongest, hunting, and living simply by our Pack's rules. They were fine boys—all boys—and I was quite proud of them, even if they sometimes cast me odd looks for spending so much time with my books and in human form, often traveling to the large cities where I could find more books and enjoy the human culture. But the Alpha by then was Channing, who had grown up with me. He did not treat me differently than anyone else in the Pack, so neither did any other wolf.”
