by J. A. Saare
I felt grateful and relieved. I wasn't going to fall, nor would the child.
I increased my grip and held on for dear life.
"Help me!" I yelled, hoping someone would. "Get the baby!"
As I shook the hair from my eyes, I saw the stroller hanging several feet from the ground. The baby was strapped in tight, but screamed and cried in terror. I flexed my arms, trying to lift the stroller. Unfortunately, the angle was bad. I could hold on but there was no way I could pull the child to safety. My arms were splayed as far as they could go, nearly hyperextended.
"Help her!" I recognized the voice, the child's mother. "That's my son! That's my son! Oh God, that's my son!" Her hysteria increased as she cried, sobbing. "Help him! Help him!"
"We have it!" Someone screamed. "We've got it!"
"Wait, Raven. Don't let go." Noah's voice was the most welcome sound I'd ever heard, but I didn't dare try to look up at him. "I'll catch it and bring it down. Let go when I say."
A dark blur swept by my arm. Noah had jumped to the lower floor.
"When I say," he said, the sound of the order revealing his fury.
Feeling the ache in my muscles, I lowered my head.
My body felt too frail. Too human.
"Raven. Look at me."
I opened my eyes and gazed down.
Noah was there, arms up. "When I say."
He crouched, gathered strength, and surged into the air. "Let go."
I waited until I felt the stroller shift, aware he had a grip, before I let go.
He landed with the stroller and child.
As soon as I saw the baby was safe, I released the bar keeping me in place. The ground rose up like it was going to swallow me, but I managed turn midair and land on my feet. I rose in a haze of anger and frustration. I knew I had to find my target, ready to give chase. My wolf was eager to guide me, telling me where to go.
I homed on the scent and followed.
I made it to the area near the entrance and snarled.
The sleazy asshole had a huge lead.
"Stop him!" I instructed anyone and everyone that could hear, moving as fast as I could. "Stop that man!"
Most backed up, getting out of his way.
Others tried to stop him, but were too slow.
The ones that did manage to come into contact with him were knocked aside with ease. As he made it through the doors, I wanted to howl. I was only a few seconds behind him, but that was enough. When I made it outside, people were parted, creating an open path. They were all confused. I moved through them, until I was clear of everyone, gazing around the parking lot.
I tried to use my nose and met another obstacle.
Cigarette smoked lined my nostrils. Each inhale burned.
"Where did he go?" I roared, looking around. "Where did he run?"
No one answered, and I wanted to bare my teeth at them.
I turned in time to see Noah slam through the doors. "Raven?"
"The son of a bitch was here," I snapped, turning my back to him, trying to locate the male's scent. "He was right here."
Noah made it to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "Who was here?"
"The scent from the Stamp's home. The one I couldn't place. It's lemon balm. He has it, Noah. It's coming from him. He was right here." I didn't want to turn to Noah as he tugged my body toward his, but he was far stronger than me. When I peered up and into his face, I repeated, "The asshole was right here."
I thought he'd ask if I was sure, as he'd questioned me before.
Instead his brows furrowed and he let me go, scanning the parking lot.
Tires screeched against concrete, and we shot off in the direction of the sound. The moment we turned around the corner, we saw the vehicle, a older model, tan colored Toyota Camry. It had backed up and was prepared to move forward.
"Son of a bitch," Noah snarled, putting on speed.
I followed, trying to keep up.
We knew we were doomed as the car accelerated.
Little by little, it gained speed and moved away.
I stopped before Noah did, watching the car barrel onto the highway.
Noah stopped, turned, and walked back to me, equally pissed. He retrieved his phone and made a call. Even across the distance, I could hear what he said.
"I need you to run plates for me. We've got a lead."
That was one stroke of good fortune.
I had the strong nose. Noah had the vivid eyesight.
Whoever we'd been chasing had gotten away, but perhaps not for long.
As anger bubbled inside me, I knew one thing for certain.
Robert Cranston had a lot of explaining to do.
Chapter Nine
It turned out that Robert Cranston had nothing to hide. When we'd shown up, the man had been in fear of losing his job, not talking to us. When we questioned him, it was easy to scent his sincerity and horror at what had transpired. As for the client in the store we'd been chasing? Bryan hadn't known him or paid attention to him. Nor would he have. Apparently there were now werewolves who partook in pornography. Shifting on video was a no-no, but werewolves could have intercourse, keep their form, and change their eye color. The smutty movies sold like hotcakes, and humans weren't the only ones interested in them.
So were vampires, werewolves, and other supernatural beings.
Go figure.
Just when we thought we were screwed, Melissa chimed in.
She didn't know the man, but she had seen him before.
At Burlesque. A fetish club.
When she was in the mood, she liked to visit the place.
She provided far too many details, explaining that while she wasn't into preternatural beings, she did enjoy a good spanking now and then. Not that Noah or myself needed the input or the visuals. We'd have to visit the club, but talking to the police and PBI had taken time. There had been no trip to Roma's, no lunch in which Noah and I could speak. We'd been too busy repeating what had happened in order for law enforcement and the PBI to do their jobs. We'd left with just enough time to go to Noah's, spruce ourselves up, and make the trip to see Annabel.
"I'm proud of you," Noah said as we neared home. "The fall would have killed that little boy."
The EMTs had been called, as well as the police, after the incident. I'd stuck close to the mother and child to make sure he'd be okay. He'd been taken to the hospital to be certain but appeared unharmed.
"I didn't think I'd make it in time."
"Because of your leg?"
No, it wasn't the leg.
It was something far worse.
A harsh truth I didn't want to confess had shamed me. Admitting so would inform Noah he'd been right all along. I'd neglected my wolf in so many ways. Where we'd once been connected, we'd existed almost separately the last few years. I knew that had to change. I'd treated her badly when I'd lived in New York. Locking her away had been a horrible thing to do.
"He was so far ahead of me." That, at least, was true. "I almost didn't make it."
I felt Noah's surge of pride. "But you did."
Moments passed in silence. I didn't like it.
"When do we go to Burlesque?" I asked, wanting to eradicate the quiet.
"Tomorrow." Noah shifted in his seat, and I felt his unease. "Angel, we have to have a serious discussion. I know you don't want to, but it has to happen. We need to have common ground."
My shoulders felt heavy, laden with burden. "I know we do."
He didn't say anything; I knew he wanted to follow my lead.
What did I say? Where did I begin?
"Noah." I kept my voice soft but confident. "We're the same in numerous ways, but in others we're nowhere close. I wasn't raised like you. Not remotely. The rules are different on the compound, and I get that. Especially since coming back. It is the way it is there."
"Do you understand why I made the choices I did?"
"Not completely, but I am starting to. You honestly believed you were doing what you had to
in order to make me happy. I do believe that. But manipulation isn't romantic or honorable to humans. It's slimy, vile, and disguising." He didn't respond, gripping the steering wheel tighter, so I kept going. "The human in me doesn't think your decisions were honorable or necessary. They feel forced and fake. I did try to view things from your eyes after I'd left, but it never worked. I wanted a life that came from my choices and feelings. I wanted something real."
Noah exhaled harshly. "You don't think what we have is real?"
"In a fairytale, maybe. If a girl wants that sort of thing."
"And you don't?"
"No." I remembered how it had been early in my childhood. Fairytales didn't exist. Certainly, preternatural creatures did, but none of them were remotely close to the way they were portrayed in stories. "I want something I can believe in. Something that I feel genuine emotion for because it's honest and natural."
"That something being Steven?" He didn't look at me, hands wringing the wheel. "You know what you feel when you are with me. Our wolves need each other. Like it or not, they're bound for life. You'll never have that with anyone else. It'll never happen."
"You're wrong. It will."
It has.
"You honestly think a human can make you happy." Not a question, a statement. I felt his anger and resentment. "Say what you will about me and the pack, but at least be honest. If not with me, then with yourself."
"He can make me happy," I informed him.
"You don't know that."
"I do." Knowing he might blow a fuse, I added, "Because he does."
I expected him to rip the wheel of its hinge, or him to veer off the road to face me. To my shock, he did neither. Instead he kept driving, listening to the words, really taking them in. "You're drawn to the human because that's what you want to be. You think he's better than me."
Being honest was one thing. Hurting Noah was another.
Even though he deserved it.
"He's not better or worse than you. He's just..." Not knowing how to describe the man I'd fallen in love with in a way he fully deserved, I tried to make my thoughts coherent. Steven was so many things. I couldn't summarize him quickly or easily. I finally said, "He's just Steven."
"So tell me." Noah managed to keep his fury in check. "Does he know when you're happy or sad? Can he sense when you need space or comfort? Are you aware of him the moment he enters or leaves a room?" He growled, the sound low and ominous. "Does he come to you when you need it? Does he know how to give you exactly what you want without being told? Does he hold you when you need to be comforted or confront you when you need to keep yourself under control?"
I wasn't sure I wanted to respond.
At the mall, I'd realized something essential.
I'd been with Steven as a werewolf, he'd actually seen me several times after a shift to make sure I had been properly caged and keep me company, but I hadn't truly revealed her to him. He viewed my wolf as a part of me that happened once a month. He didn't know what damage I'd done to myself as a consequence. I hadn't either, thinking it would be fine, doing everything I could to feel more human.
Scenting my doubt, Noah said, "That's what I thought."
"You don't know as much as you think," I snapped. "That's the point. I've had a good life the last few years. A happy one. I've found someone who lets me be who I am. Someone who thinks I'm perfect even if I have imperfections. I have been loved and adored by a man who doesn't expect me to become who and what he wants. He takes me as I am, warts and all."
"Do you love him?"
I hadn't thought Noah would ask.
I'd thought he'd be too proud. Too possessive.
Admitting another male held my attention was an insult.
I knew the answer but felt nervous telling him the truth.
Finally, knowing I had to, I answered, "Yes, I do."
Noah, again, surprised me. "Why?"
Where do I start?
Is it safe to say? Will Noah kill him?
"He makes me feel normal." I let Noah absorb the words and said, "He listens to everything I have to say. He's there for me on good days and horrible ones. He never complains, and he never asks too many questions. When I want to vent, he listens. When I don't want to talk, he gives me time. He never makes me feel bad about myself." There was more to it than that, and I knew it. "He doesn't judge me or make decisions based on my genetics, childhood, and past. He comforts me. He reminds me being unique doesn't mean I have to be alone." I paused for emphasis. "He gives me hope."
"I want you to take a moment and think about something beyond yourself or Steven. I want you to really think about what this means. I'll never find another mate, Ray. Not in the way I need. Not even close to way I want. Neither will you." Noah's words weren't evil. I knew they were solid fact. His wolf recognized me for a reason, as mine recognized his. There would never be another for either of us. "You're condemning us to a life alone."
I didn't want that for him. I never had.
I felt like shit knowing he'd never find a concrete balance.
So I played my ace in the hole, one I hoped worked. I'd thought about it shortly after I'd spoken to Steven earlier that morning. I would never change Steven. There were too many risks. Which meant our time was short. There was a way for me and Noah to get what we wanted.
"Hear me out, then," I said, loathing the words I had to speak. "Steven is human. I'd never try to change him. It wouldn't take the risk. He won't live forever," I stated, hoping Noah would listen. "If you truly care about me, then prove it. Grant me what little time I have with him. I want to be with him for however many years he has left. If you do, I'll come back to the pack. I'll be the mate you expect me to be. I give you my word."
I gazed over and noted the way Noah's face changed.
He felt hurt, not that I expected him not to.
I hated begging, but it wasn't beneath me. "Please."
"You mean it. You'd turn your back on what we have."
"Yes." I felt torn and unbalanced. "I know it goes against everything you are, but I'm asking you for this." I recalled that Michael had met his mate a few years after he'd married his first wife, a human. He'd asked his mate to make the same sacrifice, and she had. But Michael's mate was a female who'd been born in a pack and understood such matters. Noah was an alpha male. He didn't share and he didn't compromise. I wasn't sure what he'd say. "I can't let him go. I won't."
"And if you conceive?" I heard the outrage in his voice, the betrayal. "What then? Would you try to change him? I've seen it happen. More than once. And in case you've forgotten." His voice lowered even more, and I thought he might be close to shifting. "I'm an alpha, Ray. What you're asking would shame me, you, as well as our pack. We'd be questioned and subject to fights to prove our status. You're asking for more than I can give you."
"Michael can prevent that." No one questioned Michael, not even Noah. "And I won't conceive. It'll never happen."
"Michael would side with me on this, Ray. Believe it or not, we've already had a similar discussion. That human of yours is causing problems we don't need right now. And even if you got your way with the male, living your normal human life, those who engage in sexual intimacy with prophylactics get pregnant."
"There won't be any accidents. Not with him." I felt like shit sharing Steven's history. "Steven can't have children."
Then, finally, Noah glanced at me.
His irises glowed silver, but the man was in charge of the beast.
"He had a vasectomy."
Noah frowned at the knowledge, and I told him the truth. "Steven was married before he met me. His wife and daughter were killed in an automobile accident. It tore him apart. In ways you can't possibly understand." I felt like I was betraying Steven but the truth might soften Noah. "He didn't want to suffer that kind of loss again. He refused to."
Noah's jaw clenched, and the cabin of the truck radiated absolute rage.
He ripped his eyes from me, staring at the road.
> "I will give you what you want," I informed him. "You just have to wait." To remind him of what he'd done, I said, "If you'd been patient from the start, we'd never be here. Not like this, not in this way. You'd have had me because you earned my love and deserved me." Praying he'd listen, thinking he wouldn't, I said, "Give me a reason to believe in you, Noah. Show me you can earn me on your own. Prove you're a reasonable and decent human being."
"You forget, angel." He turned into the driveway. "I'm not human."
I was about to say something in response when I noticed the car parked in front of Noah's house. The black Cadillac Escalade had been ordered special. The outside was bulletproof, as were the windows. Michael had ventured over for a visit. My nerves rattled, and I remembered Steven had told Michael he'd be making a trip to see me. Would Michael try to prevent that? Michael had obviously already spoken to Noah, given what Noah said.
Is the shit going to hit the fan?
"Why is Michael here?" I questioned, suddenly edgy and concerned.
"No clue." Noah pulled into an empty spot. "Guess we'll find out."
I wanted to finish our conversation, but Noah wasn't having any of it. As soon as the car was parked and he pulled the keys from the ignition, he left the truck. I shouldn't have been surprised. Noah would never let me be with Steven. It went against his grain. I'd been stupid thinking he'd entertain the idea.
Noah didn't close the door, leaving it open as he entered.
I slowly climbed the stars, walked onto the porch, and looked inside.
The entire pack was present, seated in the living room.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I cautiously entered the house and closed the door.
The first thing that struck me as odd were the various scents in the room. I expected malice, anger, or distaste. Instead I got a blast of uncertainty, doubt, worry, and even apprehension. And it was quiet, which was certainly not normal. A majority of the time the house was full of sound. I let my nose guide me toward Michael's scent and found him seated in the kitchen.
