A Forest So Deadly (Pioneer Falls Book 2)

by Heather Davis

Morgan took the carrier to the back door and gave a little knock. A couple seconds later, the door opened and my boss Maggie leaned out to accept the firewood.

  “Why, thank you,” she said. Though it was early evening, Maggie’s curly hair was piled on her head and a tie-dyed white and pink knit robe covered her purple pajamas. It was rare Maggie took a full day off, but she’d gotten her cousin Emma to cover the afternoon at Pioneer Perk. From the sound of the trill of her flute-rich meditation music floating out of the doorway, I could tell Maggie was taking full advantage of the opportunity to relax.

  “My pleasure,” Morgan said, his delicious voice rounding out the words.

  “I was about to come out and fetch more for the fireplace. Very handy to have you around, Morgan,” Maggie said, with a smile pinking her round cheeks.

  “I aim to earn my keep,” Morgan replied. “Thanks again for allowing me to stay in your guest flat.”

  Maggie chuckled. “Guest flat? It’s seen better days. If I wasn’t so busy at the coffee shop I’d fix it up and rent it for real. Beware of the spiders and let me know when you draw up your supply list.”

  I walked with Morgan around to the side of the garage to the private entrance of the apartment above it. “Do you actually know anything about home repairs?”

  “Oh, DIY is my thing,” Morgan said with a twist of a smile and then laughed. “I haven’t a clue, but I’ll watch a few online tutorials and figure it out.”

  “I like your confidence,” I said, following him up the stairs.

  Morgan opened the door with a flourish, revealing a simple living room with a kitchen. Behind a wall an alcove offered a sleeping area and a small bathroom. He hung my wet coat next to his on the rack near the door.

  “It’s not too bad.” I took a seat on the couch, which was situated across from a wood stove and a half-finished bookshelf project. A few rickety planks set across the wall displayed books at a slightly off-kilter angle, one of Maggie’s failed home improvement projects. Boxes of more volumes waited alongside it. “Just needs a little love.”

  “It’s better than the Pioneer Inn. Maggie is a saint for letting me crash here.”

  “Well, I am her favorite barista.”

  He leaned forward and cupped my chin, planting a kiss on my lips. “You’re my favorite barista too. And I may have promised Maggie my grandmother’s oatcake recipe.”

  I smiled. “So, um…how long did you tell Maggie you’d stay?”

  “I’m doing what I can to figure something out,” he said. “The new moon is this week and I’m getting questions as to why I don’t fly out.”

  “And you haven’t asked me for your lupine stone back,” I said, pointing out the one issue we’d yet to work out. Morgan’s stone prevented involuntary transformation during the full moon. With it, he could travel back to London anytime. And Morgan would never have lent it to us if we hadn’t been in such dire straits a few weeks ago. All in, the Turner family had exactly one left that was still in our possession—mine. That pendant along with Morgan’s stone were being worn by my little sisters at the moment.

  “I couldn’t ask you to return it yet,” he said, stroking his thumb down my cheek.

  “If we get ours back we wouldn’t need yours. But I doubt the wolves that have them are going to hand the stones over without a fight.”

  “You need to be careful with that pack.”

  “Trust me. I know,” I said, shuddering with the memory of the grizzled, old pack leader, Ezra and his beady eyes. The last time I’d seen him we’d been in wolf form and he’d been chasing me through the forest. If it hadn’t been for a poacher’s snare set in the brush, he would have caught me, for sure.

  Shaking off the dread that accompanied any thought of that awful pack, I changed the subject to one that Morgan seemed to dread. “Have you thought any more about coming over for dinner?”

  “I thought I explained it, love. I should keep my distance, especially from your father,” Morgan said as he curled an arm around my shoulders.

  “Why so many rules?”

  “I had explicit orders not to reveal I was here. That’s how it generally works. We locate a target, secure it. Get in, get out. I just haven’t got out.”

  He’d explained it before, but I still didn’t understand how it all worked. I was new to the whole supernatural world, hadn’t even known it existed two weeks ago.

  “So you’re like a bounty hunter?”

  His smile was brief, amused. “Not exactly. I track errant wolves down. I don’t always bring them in. It’s more like security at a distance. I wouldn’t say I’m an expert at it, but I’ve done it since I left university a year ago.”

  “And you make a living doing that?”

  Morgan’s cheeks flushed. “My family has money. We don’t work in the real sense of the word. I’m not a bloody lord or something. Don’t think that,” he said, laughing at my stunned expression. “There’s no manor waiting for me on the moors.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Maybe not, but I think I can read your mind.” Morgan leaned over again and tipped a hand under my chin. “For example, right now, you want me to kiss you.”

  “That’s not mind reading,” I said, smiling into his kiss.

  “Do you know the best part of staying at Maggie’s? I’ll only be two streets away from you,” he said, his gaze sweeping over my face. “In case you need me.”

  “Just a text away.”

  “Or,” he said. “You can try summoning me with your thoughts. We’ve a connection now. I’m sure you’ve felt it before. If you’re in trouble, I’ll sense it. At least that’s what I’m told.”

  “Told about…”

  “Couples,” Morgan said, lowering his gaze for a moment. “But all wolves, really.”

  I smiled, but inside, my stomach felt like it was in knots. Even though I was happier than I’d ever been, the fear that all of this was temporary had been lingering. How could things ever be permanent when he lived a continent and an ocean away? But when he said things like this, things that made me feel like there was a chance at forever, that we had more than the present, the doubts faded away.

  “Those lips. That smile,” Morgan said, his thumb grazing my chin before he kissed me again. “You’ll be the end of me.”

  “I hope not.”

  He ran a hand through his hair and leaned back on the couch. “If I do agree to come to dinner, not a word to your father or sisters about my business here. It could mean real trouble for me.” His eyes flickered with hesitation.

  “You act like you’re on the run from them or something.”

  “Not exactly, but this is the freest I’ve felt in years. The first time I can be myself. Your sweet town, despite the problems here, is a place I can run and breathe. I haven’t felt such joy since I was a boy playing on the heaths.” He reached for my hand.

  “But you’re worried. I can tell.”

  “I don’t want them to ruin this,” he said, kissing my palm.

  I resisted the urge to swoon, be distracted by his touch. “Your pack?”

  He nodded, gazing at me with a touch of sadness in his eyes. “You’ve been raised by a lone wolf, so you haven’t experienced the pressure of the pack. It’s real. Splitting from anything they want you to do takes incredible courage.”

  I squeezed his fingers, trying to transmit that I’d seen him be brave. That he did possess courage. I’d seen it in the way he’d risked himself to save me during Dad’s ordeal. But a cold fear uncoiled inside me. That feeling that all the good things—and people—can disappear before you know it.

  “‘I’ll come to dinner,” Morgan said, seeming to read my unease. “If we can keep my reason for being here to ourselves, I can keep that promise of discretion to my employers.”

  Keeping secrets didn’t sound good—but having Morgan meet my dad did. It was enough to make me push aside my fears about the future with Morgan for the moment. Even if they never really went away.

  Chapt
er Two

  As I hung my coat in the mudroom at home a few minutes later, I could hear my family in the kitchen of our two-story Victorian on Wallace Street. The kitchen was the place where we worried over things as small as an algebra test to big things like my family’s cursed existence. I’d been the one to drop that truth bomb on my sisters. And it’d taken a while for them to believe me. But now they were apparently digging into the facts about werewolves.

  “So you’re saying if we took off the lupine pendant we could change at any time, if we really wanted to?” Fawn asked.

  “Yes. Strong emotions or intense concentration will trigger a voluntary change in an unprotected wolf. The full moon, as you know, causes an involuntary change,” Dad explained.

  I entered the kitchen and the family conversation paused. My sister Rose, dressed in yoga pants and a thick sweatshirt, her long, blond hair pulled back in a ballet bun, glanced at me, her blue eyes concerned, probably wondering about Cooper.

  At the opposite end of the table her fraternal twin Fawn, wearing my denim shirt over black pants, smiled innocently. “What?” she said, batting her lashes over her green eyes.

  “You know, if you’d only organize your own closet, you’d find plenty of choices.”

  “Where’s the fun in that?” Fawn replied, adding a wink. I think she liked the challenge of it, wondering if I’d notice her wearing something of mine. Dad always wrote it off to imitation being flattery. I didn’t find it very flattering. But then again, if that was the worst thing Fawn did, I could live with it. “C’mon, don’t be mad.” She retrieved a foil-covered plate from the oven as I sank into the empty chair. “Here you go. We didn’t know how long you’d be.”

  “Yeah, you stayed a while,” Dad said, his thick eyebrows lifting.

  I stifled the urge to explain what’d taken me so long. “Cooper wasn’t doing well. I’m worried about him.” I lifted the foil on the plate, revealing roasted chicken, mashed potatoes and sauteed green beans with toasted almond slivers. “Wow, thanks. Looks good.”

  “Probably Fawn’s best meal yet.” Rose poured me a glass of milk from the carton on the table. “I’m pretty sure she could be a real chef. Go to culinary school and everything.”

  “Isn’t that night work?” Fawn said over her shoulder from the counter, where she was slicing into an apple pie. “Wouldn’t the whole wolf thing be a problem?”

  Dad shook his head. “If you have the lupine stone, you’re safe all the time with it. When it’s on your body, no one can take it forcibly from you. It can only be given or surrendered to another.”

  Fawn’s knife stilled in the crust. “But if I always have a stone on, that means I don’t ever get to be a wolf. Isn’t that the fun part of all of this?”

  “Fun?” I said, around a first delicious bite of chicken. “Remember the pain of turning? You felt a twinge of it on your birthday, before I gave you the pendant. The pain of the full change is ten times worse.”

  She went on slicing the pie. “Yeah, but a little discomfort and then you’re a wolf. I know you said it’s a blood curse, but it’s kind of cool,” she said, sliding pieces onto little plates.

  Meanwhile, Rose had popped up to take whipped cream from the fridge. She added little dollops atop the slices. “I wonder what we’d look like as wolves? Would I be blond or gray? Oh, wait—I’d be a white wolf!”

  Dad leaned forward, resting his hurt arm on the table. “All kidding aside, being a wolf is dangerous. That’s the reason I didn’t want you three to have to deal with it. Pioneer Falls used to be safe, that’s why I settled us here. But that safety is gone. No one can know you’re wolves. Do you understand?”

  “Low profile, gotcha.” Fawn slid a piece of pie in front of him, shooting Rose a disappointed look. The girls took their pie up to their rooms, where they both had homework.

  I rinsed the plates. I’m not a neat freak or anything, but I do like things in their place, a general order. It’s often what I turn to when things get crazy.

  Dad brought his coffee mug to the sink. “You want to go change? That black number can’t be comfortable.”

  I blinked at him. I’d almost forgotten I was still wearing the dress I’d worn to the funeral. “Yeah, good idea.”

  He leaned closer. “And who is this guy I smell on you?”

  “Cooper?”

  Dad wrinkled his nose. “Try again. It’s a wolf.”

  “A new friend,” I admitted, rinsing Dad’s mug and setting it in the dishwasher. “I’ve been meaning to introduce you. You’d like him. He’s visiting town for a while.”

  Dad returned to the kitchen table. “I’ve been waiting for you to tell me. Smelled him on you for a while. The girls told me you’d met a new guy. They did, however, leave out this part about him being a wolf. Please don’t tell me he’s one of Ezra’s sons.” His mouth was set in a grim line, his eyebrows drawn together. His weathered face had shifted into cop mode—skeptical and concerned.

  “Of course not! Ezra’s pack are killers. Morgan’s a good guy. You’ll meet soon. I’ll get him to come to dinner.” I added the detergent into the dishwasher and shut the door.

  “If I’ve learned anything lately, it’s that we have to be utterly honest with each other. Don’t hold out on me again. I can tell when you’re lying.”

  “That’s ironic,” I said taking a seat. I kicked my shoes off underneath the table, the cool linoleum feeling good after the pinched toes of my boots. “I mean, the lying thing.”

  Dad’s stern exterior cracked for a moment. “I know, I know. I haven’t exactly led by example,” he said, his hands turned heavenward. “And he’s here on his own? How old is he?”

  “He’s twenty-one. I’m eighteen. There’s barely a difference. And you know, werewolves age differently. Like, are you really in your forties in human years?”

  Dad gritted his teeth. “No. A bit older than that,”

  “So aging does slow down.”

  “Yeah, it does, starting in your middle years. For now, you can stop saying ‘human’ years.” Dad handed me a pack of playing cards and motioned for me to shuffle. “You’re still young for him.”

  “We’re taking it slow.” I took the cards and began mixing them up before doing a couple bridges to really break them up. Dad loved card games. It was the one thing we did together, especially when we wanted to talk, since my sisters had no interest in playing. I was pretty sure most of the time he let me win on purpose, but lately, he’d been playing a little more like he was tired of losing. “I trust him, Dad,” I added.

  He gave me a thoughtful look, running a hand through his thick brown hair, tinged with gray at the temples. “Who is he here visiting?”

  I presented the deck to Dad for a good cut, and then started dealing hands for gin rummy. “You ask so many questions. If it weren’t for Morgan, we’d never have survived when you were missing. You’ll love him. I promise.”

  “The only thing I’m promising is that I’ll keep an open mind,” Dad said. “Pioneer Falls has always been a magnet for supernatural types, but you can’t trust every wolf you meet. Just look at Ezra’s bunch.”

  I grimaced as I dealt out the last cards. “Cooper’s really messed up about the attack. He could barely talk about it with me. He’s pretty angry at wolves in general.”

  Dad let out a sigh and picked up his cards with his good hand. “He’ll come around. Protecting wolves is what the North family has done for over a hundred years. When something is in your blood like that, there’s nothing you can do to fight it.”

  “That may be true but he’s not okay. He’s all alone now.” I checked out my hand, organizing the pairs. “I’ll go see him tomorrow. Take him a slice of pie. At a time like this, you need friends.”

  “Good. That’s a relationship you’ll need for your whole life. Nothing more important than investing your time in someone you know will stick around.” Dad drew a card and placed it in his hand.

  “Dad…”

  “I’m not sayi
ng you shouldn’t care about this wolf Morgan, but you don’t know him,” Dad said, discarding a two of hearts. “And if he’s passing through, well…”

  “I know it’s just for now.” I bit my lip to keep from saying something else I’d regret. I was struggling enough with my own fears. Morgan was the one who’d shown me the upside to being a wolf, the freedom in the run, the power of the moonlight. I wasn’t sure it was love. I didn’t know if I’d recognize it even if it was.

  What I knew was that Morgan was the blessing in this curse and I felt safe with him here in Pioneer Falls. For now. It was easy to pretend to my dad I didn’t care…be breezy about the fact that Morgan would return to London, where he belonged. But that was a lie. I knew one of those when I heard one.

  The reality is that sometimes a lie is easier. But only temporarily. The truth comes out and it might be devastating.

  It might change everything and shake you to your core.

  ***

  The next afternoon before my shift at the coffee shop, I wrapped up two slices of Fawn’s apple pie and borrowed the keys to the truck. I’d texted Cooper last night, but he wasn’t answering. Regardless of what Dad said about making sure we ensured he would be our Protector now that Ivan was gone, Cooper was my friend. I was concerned about how he was dealing with his dad’s passing.

  The gates to the cemetery were open, but the doors to the caretaker’s quarters were locked. I didn’t think he usually took Mondays off. I peered through the window. The place looked dark and empty, cleaned out compared to the last time I’d been inside. I trudged back to the truck with the foil-covered plate. There was only one other place he could be.

  The North family’s homestead lay across the small bridge in town, the only developed property on the road for miles. A long barbed-wire cattle fence lined the acreage where it met the road. In the brush that lined the long driveway, rusted-out cars sprouted tall grass in their bare wheelbases. Maybe Ivan had intended to fix them up one day, but now they were as much a part of the environment as they were vehicles. At the end of the drive, mismatched siding on the small house itself furthered the impression that the occupant didn’t care about appearances, but a neat front lawn and freshly built cedar deck told a different story. Cooper’s dad had been the town eccentric, but he’d taken care of the things he loved.