Pact of the Pack
(book 2 of the Moonlight Wars series) written by Deidre Huesmann Copyright © 2015
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Printed in the United States of America by Amazon First Printing, 2015
ISBN
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Pact of the
PACK
The Moonlight Wars (Book 2)
by Deidre Huesmann
To Professor Bernd Richter.
We were not close, but you were
a wonderful mentor.
I’m grateful I could take your
English class while you were still alive.
Rest in peace.
True strength is keeping
everything together
when everyone expects you
to fall apart.
— unknown
Chapter One
The pack would have to flee thanks to Rachael’s complacency.
Wednesday morning started like any other. Rachael Adair woke up after her boyfriend—no surprise there—and heard him showering in the connected bathroom. For a moment she considered joining him, but then decided against it. He had a hard time keeping his hands off her. And bathrooms had too many acoustics to keep their fun quiet enough.
So she rolled out of their—His, she reminded herself, though they certainly didn’t use it that way—bed and went to retrieve her clothes. She found and pulled on a pair of sweatpants. Her shirt lay in a pool on the floor, not exactly in pristine condition after the night before. She hesitated before opening the closet and choosing one of her boyfriend’s button-up long-sleeved shirts. Outside would be deathly hot, but the house had ample air conditioning. Besides, she liked his smell—as well as the longing look he gave her on the rare occasion she wore an article of his clothing.
Rachael stopped to make the bed. Her boyfriend preferred things tidy. While she wasn’t a neat freak herself, she understood his desire to keep things as quiet and simple as possible. After all, they were only living in the house thanks to the good grace of another alpha.
And that alpha was a bit of a head case. Putting it mildly.
For the past couple months, Rachael and her boyfriend’s lycan pack resided on a compound in southern Nevada, confined to a single two-story house that held the bare minimum for furniture and necessities. She didn’t particularly mind. While her boyfriend’s lycans—their term for werewolves—were not permitted to interact with their hosting alpha’s charges, they weren’t prisoners. The pack could come or go as they pleased. They just couldn’t talk to their hosts.
Except for her boyfriend. He was permitted to mingle. Though, as of late, he was doing so with less frequency. Rachael was probably to blame for that; keeping her hands off him was an arduous task as well. But then, what else could be expected of a newly dating couple? Especially since they had spent the six years prior trying to move on and failing, all while missing each other.
Rachael made sure to grab her shirt and close the bedroom door behind her. She stopped by her old room—now used by Ana Sofia—and chucked the soiled material into her laundry basket before she padded down the stairs.
Two kids sat in the living room watching a small television. One was a blond boy who looked around ten, and the other a pretty little Hispanic girl about half his size.
Nathan looked up and grinned at her. “Mornin’, Miss Rachael.”
“Good morning,” she greeted. The girl nodded once but didn’t tear her eyes away from the cartoon drama unfolding before her eyes. “Morning, Ana Sofia.”
The girl nodded again.
A slight frown pulled Nathan’s lips as he looked her up and down. Rachael stared inquisitively into eyes that were almost exact mirrors of her boyfriends: pure black, without the gold speckles that most lycans earned upon surviving their transformative infection.
“That shirt,” said Nathan suddenly. “Doesn’t look great on you.”
Rachael’s eyebrows flew up. Sometimes he said peculiar things—especially as of late. “The color or the cut?”
Nathan shrugged. Weird. Rachael shook her head and turned.
While there wasn’t much to the house, the kitchen was one of the nicer areas. The countertops and floor hadn’t been updated since the early ‘90s, but the walls had been painted a soft, inviting orange that transformed every sleepy morning into a peaceful glow.
Coffee had already been made. She smelled a hint of cinnamon in the brew.
“Morning, RayRay,” came a deep voice from the other side of the room. Her brother, Jackson, and his new wife, Eva, sat at the table eating their breakfast.
Jackson reminded Rachael a lot of their father in looks. He was broadly built, with wide shoulders and a stocky body. Large muscles that spoke to his intensive love for his wolf side added to his enormous appearance. He’d chosen to grow his brown hair out similar to his look in high school, though these days he kept it tied back.
Contrastingly his wife was a tall, willowy woman. When standing she held a good three inches over her husband. Long dark hair accentuated her slim height. When she glanced up at Rachael her eyes were slanted and sharp, but not necessarily uninviting. Rachael nodded and Eva returned the gesture.
There were only four chairs at the table; not enough for everyone in the house. It was a relatively nice set carved out of mahogany. The previous owner had refused to take it with her when she switched houses on the compound. Rachael had never been sure if the gesture was kind or malicious.
Rachael returned her brother’s greeting and opened a cabinet. She pulled down two mugs and some dry creamer. One of the cups she filled with milky caffeine, while the other was plain yet strong. She left the darker brew on the counter and took a sip of hers.
“We’re out of sugar,” she remarked.
Jackson sighed but nodded. “Didn’t plan on going into town today, but we need some more food, too. Eva’s cooking tonight.”
Slanted eyes flicked toward Rachael before Eva returned to her meal.
Her attitude didn’t bother Rachael; not anymore, at least. Eva was quiet and terse, but kind. It hadn’t taken Rachael long to decide she liked her. Which was a relief, considering her brother’s nuptials had come as a surprise—as did the fact he’d met a woman. But then, Rachael thought, a lot of surprises had occurred after three years of radio silence.
She was so happy all that was behind them.
“I don’t suppose Boss mentioned anything about us getting out of here anytime soon?” Jackson inquired.
Rachael tried to keep her expression indifferent. She failed. “Why would he tell me anything?”
Her brother grimaced. “Please, RayRay. I’m happy for you both, but it’s still weird. Don’t make it weirder.”
A mischievous smile tugged her lips. Rachael crept closer to the table and murmured, “Which part? That I’m dating or fucking your alpha?”
“Jesus, RayRay, the kids are still here,” Jackson snapped. His entire face flushed.
Eva shot her husband an exasperated look. “Way to be a hypocrite, dear.”
“I’m not a kid,” shouted Nathan from the living room. Which was technically true—he looked and mostly acted ten, but he’d also been alive for over two centuries.
Ana Sofia spoke for the first time, “Fucking is sex. ¿Correcto?”
“Sí,” confirmed Nathan.
Jackson groaned and covered his face with one massive hand. “God damn it,” he muttered. Eva just shook her head.
Rachael grinned.
Upsta
irs a door closed. Within moments another man joined them, pausing between the kitchen and living room. His voice was smooth and deliberate as he said, “Nathan, when I asked you to help Ana Sofia with her English, cursing was explicitly not part of it.”
Lately he’d been snippier with his little brother—or distant nephew; the actual details were a bit murky to Rachael—for reasons only the two of them could comprehend. It made Rachael wince to hear him so irritable first thing in the morning.
Nathan returned his brother’s stare, unapologetic. “S’not my fault. I don’t say ‘em, I just explain ‘em.”
Softly, hoping to distract him, Rachael said, “Morning, Aaron.”
Aaron finally looked her way. When he strode toward her, effectively turning his back on his brother, it was a carefully chosen choice. She made a mental note to inquire about it later.
Rather than greet her, he glanced toward the coffee on the counter. “Is that one for me?” Rachael nodded, and he accepted it with grace.
Though she was getting better at not staring, it seemed like Rachael fell in love with him a little more each time she looked. Aaron looked fantastic this morning. After a shower he’d put on his typical pressed clothes and polished shoes. Aside from the occasional pair of jeans, his attire was always dark; navy blues, greys, and a lot of black occasionally accented with white pinstripes. Today he wore fitted slacks and a charcoal grey button-down shirt turned casual by rolling the sleeves halfway up his arms. And even that was done with calculated, pressing attention to detail.
Once the others appeared to return their attention to other activities, Aaron finally stepped closer to Rachael. Ostensibly he just wanted to lean against the counter, but his low whisper left warm breath on the edge of her ear. “You look beautiful.”
Rachael shot him a sideways look. Aaron might be able to prevent the others from listening, but Rachael was still human. She couldn’t speak the soft pitches lycans could, much less hear them.
And he knew it. Aaron smirked when she couldn’t think of an innocuous response and brought the mug to his lips.
Just you wait, she thought, wishing he could hear her. You’re in for it later.
She tried not to fantasize in too great of detail. The others didn’t need to know when she was aroused. It was hard enough trying to keep quiet at night.
“Hey, Boss,” Jackson said. “Mind if Eva and I go into Paradise for some groceries?”
Aaron shrugged. “If you must.”
Paradise was the town just a mile away from their compound. Well, maybe not town—it was more of a city, bordering the glitzy glamour of Las Vegas. Rachael had visited a few times since the pack had freed her from captivity, but for the most part she preferred to stay indoors.
That in itself was unusual. She’d grown up outdoorsy, always hiking and exploring the woods back in her Pacific Northwest hometown of Keeton. But since her kidnapping and month-long imprisonment in a soundproofed basement, Rachael was uneasy leaving their temporary home.
She knew she was an adult now; 24, no longer the teenager she’d been upon meeting the lycans. Yet there were a lot of things from her weeks of captivity that continued to haunt her.
She hated that she couldn’t step outside without worrying if she’d be jumped. Rachael loathed how this was made worse by the compound alpha, a woman in her early thirties named Olivia, forbidding Aaron’s pack to speak with hers—unless it was Aaron himself. It seemed she had some weird unrequited love-hate relationship with him. Aaron did his best not to encourage Olivia, but he’d privately admitted to Rachael that he had played on the woman’s emotions to gain her trust and support months earlier. From that, it seemed, the damage had already been done.
But until Aaron said they could leave, they were to accept the compound alpha’s “hospitality.” And when pressed, he simply said he was working on other arrangements.
Rachael decided to trust him, so she did her best not to pry. But she couldn’t say that remaining on hostile grounds helped her anxieties at all.
She also couldn’t show it. Not if she wanted Aaron to take her seriously. For the first couple weeks after her rescue, he’d been cool and aloof toward her until the tension between them grew so much it exploded. Rachael had to shout at him: that she wasn’t broken, that he had to treat her like an adult and not a child. Her words had offended him so terribly that he’d physically expressed precisely what he thought of her.
Rachael was glad for the last part, but everything before had sucked. And she did not want a repeat of those events.
“RayRay, do you want anything else from the store?”
She blinked and looked to her brother. “Oh—no. Just the sugar. I’m good other than that.”
Jackson made a sound to show he heard. “What about you, Boss? I already have the basics for breakfast.”
“Condoms,” said Aaron without missing a beat.
Rachael choked in mid-sip, more from laughter than embarrassment. She quickly covered her mouth. Aaron’s more open sense of humor was a very recent development, but the more he utilized, the more Rachael loved to hear it. When she’d first met him Aaron had been a lot more reserved. But since they each confessed their feelings, he was loosening up. Even around his pack. Rachael adored him for that.
That he was willing to mess with her brother didn’t hurt.
At the table Jackson groaned as though in agony while his wife absent-mindedly patted him on the back. Aaron smirked.
“Boss, tell me we’ll have a bigger house when we leave,” Jackson begged.
Aaron nodded, though amusement glittered in his black eyes. “A solution to our cramped quarters is in the works,” he said calmly. “As soon as it is complete, we shall leave.”
Complete? Rachael wondered. Aaron was very particular with his word choice, so this was no slip of the tongue. Was he building a new place?
“Thank God,” muttered Jackson. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“I’m with ya,” piped up Nathan from the living room.
Rachael blinked in confusion. Aaron scowled. She definitely had to ask about that, she decided. Half the odd things Nathan said seemed to rub Aaron the wrong way these days.
Her boyfriend turned to Jackson and said, “I shall see about borrowing a vehicle. Prepare a list and I will get you the money you believe you will need.”
Then he set down his unfinished drink and, without saying goodbye, left by the front door. Presumably to speak with Olivia about transportation. Rachael stifled a sigh and joined the children in the living room.
Afternoon came pleasantly enough, and Rachael fit in a shower before her brother and Eva left. She decided to go with them at the last minute—or rather, Aaron pulled her aside and quietly expressed his desire for her to get out of the house. Rachael hadn’t wanted to argue. He was right, and besides, she would be safe with Jackson. She did put on a lightweight jacket that covered Aaron’s shirt. Judging by her boyfriend’s expression, it did not go unnoticed, and she could look forward to an intense night later.
The town of Paradise was miniscule in feel compared to Vegas, but Rachael kind of liked that about it. She’d lived in Seattle for a couple years before her kidnapping, and had been taken from the Las Vegas airport straight to a basement prison and stored there for over a month. Big cities had their place, but after her experiences Rachael felt she had outgrown the need to live in one.
Eva drove them to a local supermarket, and Rachael made sure to stick close by. She had the distinct feeling it made her a burden, but both Jackson and his wife were either too polite or too kind to say so. So she did her best to wander away a little, though never out of eyesight.
At one point Jackson lumbered off to find milk, leaving Rachael and Eva alone together. Once her husband was out of earshot, Eva said calmly, “You look really nervous and people are staring.”
Rachael tried not to wince. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Just letting you know.”
Then why
tell me? was Rachael’s first irritable thought. But then it occurred to her that, in her own way, Eva was trying to remind her to relax; that she was safe.
Rachael drew in a deep breath and said, “What were you planning on making tonight?”
Eva’s slanted eyes glanced her way. “Nothing special. Chicken, rice, vegetables.”
“And Ana Sofia’s okay with that?” asked Rachael dubiously. She’d made meals for the little girl before, and Ana Sofia always insisted she hated chicken.
With a shrug, Eva answered, “She’ll eat it or go hungry.”
Rachael couldn’t help but smile. “That’s such a ‘mom’ answer. Mama used to say things like that.”
Eva didn’t answer immediately, but when she did her flat voice was even more muted. “She sounds like she was a wonderful woman.”
“I always thought so.”
“So does Jackson. When he does speak of her.”
Losing their mother was still a touchy subject. It had been over eight years since her passing, and she had been terminally ill, but her death had been sped up by a now-deceased member of Aaron’s pack. Rachael used to have a picture of her mom—and her best high school friend, who was also dead—everywhere she went, but both had to be left behind in Wells.
As much as she missed those photographs, Rachael would rather kill herself than set foot in that town or its outskirts again.
Eva sighed. “And now you look pissed.”
Rachael did cringe this time. “Sorry. I was thinking about....”
“I know,” murmured Eva. She tucked a long lock of hair behind one delicate ear. “It’s hard as lycans, but have you considered asking Aaron to see a therapist?”
The idea had occurred to her a few times, but Rachael hated to dwell on it. She lifted one shoulder and said, “Thought about it. Doesn’t seem feasible right now.”
Eva hummed in answer, and then said, “I would consider it again, if I were you. Aaron can’t support you emotionally forever.”
Rachael turned to look at her sharply, but Eva’s head faced the other direction. The willowy woman said, “Eggs were not in the budget, dear. Or bacon.”
Pact of the Pack Page 1
