Yours, Mine and Howls: Werewolves in Love, Book 2

by Kinsey W. Holley

  Cade turned, saw nothing, then looked down. Becca stared up at him. She wore her pajamas, both top and bottom. The no-naked-outside-your-own-room admonitions were getting through.

  “What do you want, baby?”

  “I’m thirsty,” she pouted.

  “You can have a glass of water, but then straight back up to your room.” He paused. “Mr. MacSorley, this is my daughter Rebecca. Becca, this is Mr. MacSorley.”

  Becca moved behind Cade’s leg with a barely audible “hi”. She didn’t meet new people often.

  MacSorley continued to stare at her. Cade found he couldn’t read the Irishwolf as easily as he had earlier. He seemed disturbed. A lot of Lones were uncomfortable around children. But then he flashed a wide grin, flippant once more.

  “Well, now,” he cooed. “I’ve only known one little girl as pretty as you my whole life. And I’m a very old wolf, you know. How old would you be, darlin’?”

  Becca ventured a peek at him. “Four,” she whispered.

  “I was four once, but I don’t remember anything about it.”

  Becca cocked her head at that, perplexed. “I’m a cat.”

  Cade sighed, but MacSorley laughed delightedly. “Really? That’s cracker, that is! Are you a cat all the time, or just sometimes?”

  “Just sometimes.” Her smile annoyed Cade. He didn’t want the Irishwolf charming his daughter.

  “Can you do it whenever you want?” MacSorley asked Becca.

  She shook her head.

  “Well, that’s okay, it’s a wonderful thing anyway. Just remember, though—” here MacSorley lowered his voice conspiratorially, crouching with his hands on his knees and looking at Becca gravely “—kitty cats have to be careful around wolves. I’m sure Daddy’s wolves love you to pieces, but what if they don’t recognize you when you’re a cat, hmm?” And then he winked.

  Becca’s eyes got huge. Her mouth made a little O.

  “All right, Becca, there’s your water. Say good night to Mr. MacSorley.”

  Still staring at MacSorley in solemn amazement, she whispered good night and fled upstairs.

  “Now,” Cade said when she was gone, “what brings you to the kitchen, Mr. MacSorley?”

  “Just Dec, please.” MacSorley looked like he’d forgotten what they were talking about for a moment. “Let’s see, I—oh! I just smelled something intoxicating and had to follow my nose. I found this wee fella here, and I was gobsmacked when he told me he cooked it all up himself. Between you and me, much as I love the Wendy—and I do love the Wendy—cooking is not her forte. We eat out quite a bit.”

  Cade studied the wolf for a minute. He couldn’t get a bead on him, couldn’t read him at all. “Who’s the Wendy? Are you talking about Allison?”

  MacSorley laughed. “Yes. It’s our little joke—see, she’s Wendy and we’re the Lost Boys. She sews our pockets and—”

  “My mother read me the story. Which one of you is Peter Pan?”

  “That would be Dylan, if we let him, but we won’t.”

  “My nephew is reluctant to grow up?”

  “And what eighteen-year-old boy isn’t, when he’s had a nice, clean home and plenty of food and someone who loves him as much as Ally does? He’s her pup, you know, just as surely as if she’d birthed him herself. Of course, she’d have been thirteen years old, and that’s skeevy to think about, but—”

  “Dinner will be served in five minutes. Sindri will call you when it’s ready. I need to talk to him right now.”

  The Irishwolf seemed incapable of taking offense.

  “I hope it’s okay if I don’t join you. I figure the first night should be for family, and for you to get acquainted with your nephew. He didn’t want to come up here, y’see, and it’s gonna take him some time to relax. I’m sure you’ll understand that.”

  “I’ll deal with my nephew without help from strangers, wolf. And I’m sure you’ll understand that.”

  “Well, then.” The weird wolf beamed at him. “I believe I’ll go for a run in those fine-looking woods. Enjoy your dinner, Cade. That little girl is a wonder. Pleasure meeting you, Sindri,” he continued with a nod in the brownie’s direction. “It’s a beautiful kitchen you have here. Good night, all.”

  And the son of a bitch strolled out whistling a jaunty little tune, leaving Cade somewhat gobsmacked himself.

  “Sindri, what was that about?”

  “Nothing, barn.”

  The Old Icelandic word meant child. Cade didn’t mind the appellation at forty-four. The way Sindri saw it, Cade was “born yesterday, and the young one this morning”.

  Cade watched the brownie scurry about the kitchen from step stool to step stool, putting the finishing flourishes on the meal he’d prepared. One didn’t ask a brownie how he accomplished his tasks. Sindri cleaned like a fairy, cooked like Martha Stewart and looked like a cross between Julia Child and ET.

  “Was he bothering you, old man?”

  Sindri didn’t stop fussing with his meal or turn around. “He smelled my food and came to see. He asked who I was, and I was pleased to tell him.”

  “There’s something strange about that wolf. He annoys me.”

  “Too much annoys you, barn. Go. Sit. Eat.”

  “…and he met my mother while he was in Scotland researching his ancestry.”

  Cade paused to take a drink of wine. Ally had told him about leaving Lake Charles when Dylan was five, following Gracie Fontenot’s death and Guy’s disappearance. Before he could draw her out with more questions, Dylan had started talking about Scotland, so Cade told them about the Clan MacDougall.

  Louis MacDougall had been proud of his Scottish ancestry and his descent from Somerled, the twelfth century Scottish leader whose son established the clan.

  “Of course, genealogists say Somerled has something like half a million descendants today.”

  “He drove the Vikings out of Scotland, didn’t he?” Dylan asked. “I read about him while I was there.”

  “That’s right. Nowadays, they think Somerled actually had Viking ancestry himself.”

  “I wonder if Somerled was a werewolf,” Ally mused with a little smile. She still seemed wholesome. She still flashed those fuckably cute dimples. He still couldn’t tell what she was thinking or feeling. And that was a problem, because the story she’d fed him about leaving Lake Charles was as thin and holey as her tight blue jeans.

  The three adults had finished eating. Dylan was on his second helping of standing rib roast. They drank an excellent Chilean red, the teenager trying hard to act like he drank wine around his elders all the time. Everyone was enjoying themselves, which put Cade in a tough spot.

  He’d been racking his brain for a diplomatic way to tell Ally he didn’t believe a word she’d said tonight. That probably wasn’t the best way to elicit another dimple flash, and it would ruin what had been a pleasant evening so far.

  “So, Ally. How long were y’all in Beaumont before you moved to Sugar Land?”

  Ally tucked her hair behind her ear. “We just stayed in Beaumont for a few months. We got in touch with a friend of one of my other cousins, who hooked Seth up with a job in Houston, and we moved there. Then we moved out to Sugar Land, a suburb of Houston. I nannied for a while and then I wound up at the stables. Seth ran an auto shop.”

  “When did you meet MacSorley?”

  “Right before Dylan’s first change, so, what—four years ago? He was bartending at this neighborhood place where we hung out.”

  “Who looked after Dylan while you hung out at a bar?” Oh well. I’m a Pack Alpha, not a goddamned diplomat.

  Ally barely paused. “We just took him with us.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Seth sighed and hunched his shoulders. Dylan snickered.

  Ally looked Cade straight in the nose. “We parked him under the pool table. We were teenage trailer trash. You wouldn’t expect us to have the sense to get a babysitter, would you?”

  “I didn’t mean…”

  “Ye
s. You did.”

  He admired her aplomb and even briefly regretted his snide question. But he knew Seth was lying, and therefore she was too. He wanted to trust her, but he probably couldn’t.

  He wanted to see those dimples again, but he probably wouldn’t.

  She took a deep breath before she spoke again. “We didn’t go out together much. I had friends I traded babysitting with. We didn’t bring people home, and neither did Dec when he moved in. I didn’t want him moving in at all, to begin with. I didn’t want people thinking we were… Well, thinking we were what you obviously think we are.”

  “Then why’d you let him move in?”

  She sighed and closed her eyes. “We needed help with the rent, and Dec always has plenty of money. Seth liked him the minute he met him. I don’t know anyone who’s ever met Dec who didn’t like him right away.” She opened her eyes. He almost expected her to look him in the eye, so defiant was her gaze. “He’s part of our family now. Dec suggested Dylan go to Scotland. He paid for half of it. If it weren’t for Dec, we’d never have found the DNA match.”

  “I don’t like him.”

  “I don’t care.”

  They studied each other in silence while Dylan fidgeted and Seth slumped.

  “So,” he began, then stopped. “Dylan. Go in the kitchen. Sindri would love to stuff you with some more food. I want to talk to Ally and Seth.”

  Seth had hardly spoken. Ally seemed to do the talking for the three of them.

  The pup looked at the female uncertainly.

  “Dylan.” He hadn’t raised his voice, but his nephew jumped. “Son, when I tell you to do something, you don’t check with her first. She is not the Alpha. I’m the Alpha, and this is my home. I shouldn’t have to keep reminding people of this,” he said, half to himself. “Go on, now. And close the door behind you.”

  Once Dylan was gone, Seth reached over and took one of Ally’s hands. Her gaze remained fixed on the table.

  “Ally.” Cade tipped his chair back, stretched out his legs and spoke slowly, staring at his wineglass while he fiddled with the stem. “I apologize for the bar crack. But I’ve got a problem here. You and Seth—even MacSorley—seem like decent folk. Dylan acts like a kid who’s been raised right. Nick Wargman spoke highly of y’all, and I respect his judgment. So I want to like you. The problem is…” And now he looked at her. “The problem is, I don’t believe the story you’re telling me. I just can’t. It’s preposterous, and I can’t believe people have bought it for thirteen years.” He couldn’t read her. But he could read Seth, and that would be enough.

  “Gracie asks you to keep Dylan for the night. She fights with Guy. You and Dylan both sleep through it. In the morning, when you take Dylan home, the trailer’s torn up and Gracie’s dead.” He paused. “Dylan didn’t see any of it, right?”

  “Right,” she replied flatly. “I left him outside while I went in. I figured they’d be hung over and beat-up and nasty.”

  “Right. So—Gracie’s dead, Guy’s gone. Seth comes over, y’all take Dylan and run. Your cousin, Seth’s sister, is dead, but you don’t call the cops. You don’t call anyone in your family. You don’t call anyone in the Lake Charles Pack. Wait—one more thing. Seth, are you Lone?”

  “He’s—”

  “I asked Seth, not you,” Cade said smoothly, watching the beta. He could feel Ally glaring at him in silent wrath. She was lying to him—why did it bother him that she was angry with him as well?

  Seth Guidry frowned for a minute, then shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so. My daddy died before I was born, and no one in my family or the rest of the pack took much interest. I didn’t really mind.”

  Cade sighed in disgust. He’d heard stories about Lake Charles for years, but what kind of pack would let a fatherless wolf grow up alone? He turned back to Ally.

  “You take Dylan and drive straight to Texas. You stay with your relatives a few weeks. You find jobs in Houston, your family waves you on your way and you live in Sugar Land for the next thirteen years. Have I got that, Ally?”

  “Yes.” She practically ground her teeth as she spoke, visibly struggling to keep her anger in check. The aplomb of minutes ago had disappeared.

  “Why didn’t you call the Lake Charles Pack?”

  “Because everyone knew Dylan wasn’t Guy’s kid. No one knew who his father was, if he was even a wolf. And if you look up white trash werewolves in the dictionary, you’ll see a picture of the Lake Charles Pack. I wouldn’t leave one of their own kids with them.”

  “Why not call Social Services?”

  She rolled her eyes. “When’s the last time you dealt with Social Services, Cade? You even know anyone who has? Anyone who’s been in foster care?”

  He didn’t answer.

  “Of course you don’t. You’re rich. You wouldn’t know anything about it, so let me explain. Number one, foster care is usually worse than home. Number two, Social Services doesn’t like dealing with wolves. There aren’t a lot of wolves who want to be foster parents, and—”

  “I killed Guy,” Seth said quietly.

  “—humans are afraid to fost—” Ally stuttered to a halt, eyes widening as she realized what Seth had just said.

  Now they were getting somewhere. Cade smiled with satisfaction, sitting forward with his arms on the table. His instincts always told him when someone was hiding something.

  He loved being right.

  Until he saw the expression on Ally’s face. Her composure punctured at last, she looked bereft, like a scared little girl. He didn’t care how skilled a liar she might be. He wanted to comfort her, protect her, and that bothered him.

  “You said you trusted me,” Seth said to Ally.

  “But I don’t trust him,” she replied, barely above a whisper.

  Cade snorted. “You don’t trust me? I’m not the one who’s been lying, sweetheart.”

  They ignored him.

  “He’s Dylan’s blood,” Seth implored, glancing nervously at Cade. “Do you really think he’ll call the cops?”

  Ally clutched her cousin’s hand so tightly it turned blue, but he didn’t attempt to pull away.

  “I’m tired of lying about everything all the time, Al,” Seth continued.

  “What will you tell him?” She sounded terrified.

  “Just what he needs to know, nothing else.” Seth sounded determined.

  “Excuse me,” Cade drawled. “I’m right here. And I expect you to tell me everything.”

  They still ignored him.

  “We talked about this,” said Seth. “If we’re going to stay here—if Dylan stays here, and Dec and I stay here—”

  “Dylan is staying here. MacSorley is not staying here. I haven’t decided about you, Seth.” And he was starting to regret his deal with Nick Wargman about the female.

  They still fucking ignored him.

  “We wanted someone to help us guide Dylan. That’s Cade. There’s one big dog in the pack, Ally, and he’s it. We accept that or we leave.”

  Cade slammed his hand down on the table. “All right, that’s enough. No one’s leaving until you tell me what I want to know. What happened to—?”

  The female went on as if she and Seth were alone in the room. “Fine, Seth, he’s the big dog. That doesn’t mean he has to know everything…”

  “Goddamn it!” Cade roared.

  “Shut up!” Ally yelled.

  Cade stood and kicked his chair back. He’d never harmed a woman in his life, but he’d just come damned close to jumping this one. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “She thinks she’s the alpha,” Seth said quietly.

  “Why does she think that?”

  “Because she’s the alpha.”

  “She’s a female, for Christ’s sake! You obey her?” Now that he’d started yelling, he found he couldn’t lower his voice.

  “No, he humors me!” She was still shouting, standing now. Only Seth remained in his chair.

  “Do you ever let the wolf speak for hims
elf?” Everyone on the goddamned ranch could hear this.

  “He can speak for himself all he wants. I need some air.”

  She stormed out the front door, slamming it behind her with a lot more force than someone so small should’ve been able to muster.

  Cade stared after her, furious, offended and impressed.

  And aroused.

  He could tell he’d frightened her, but she hadn’t backed down an inch. Few people ever yelled at him, and no one had told him to shut up since—well, ever. That would’ve been deadly for a male, either wolf or man. It still pissed him off coming from a female.

  But not as much as he would’ve expected.

  She’d seemed so cute and polite, but as soon as he confronted her… No, he shouldn’t be smiling. He couldn’t tolerate such brazen defiance, and he wouldn’t tolerate being lied to.

  Still. She was different. Different intrigued him. Recurring visions of her naked body probably had something to do with it too.

  Seth was watching him apprehensively. Cade sat down, picked up his wineglass and put his feet on the table. “All right. Tell me how you killed Guy Fontenot.”

  Trembling as the door slammed behind her, she took great gulps of air, both to clear her head and to relieve the treacherous tightness in her throat.

  No crying. Alpha chicks didn’t cry.

  But she didn’t feel very alpha when she was around Cade MacDougall. He scared the hell out of her. A guy that dominant, that shrewd, that rich and that pretty…there had to be something deeply wrong with him. Had to be.

  She stuffed her hands in her jeans pockets to keep from twisting her hair out. Her heart pounded, her pulse raced, her stomach churned. She stumbled over to the little yard and sat in a swing, putting her head between her legs.

  Maybe this is what an anxiety attack feels like.

  Oddly enough, considering her life, it would be her first.

  It wasn’t just Cade MacDougall’s dominance throwing her off her game. There was that stupid episode with Jakob Lind, the decision to turn Dylan over to a wolf she’d never met… She should’ve thought this through. Fleeing from their home in a blind rush had been a huge mistake.