“I understand that this is sudden and unexpected,” Josiah moved forward, held him hand out to Piper. “It must be a shock to hear that...”
“A shock?” She didn't manage to bite back a laugh as she interrupted him. “A shock is walking in on your parents fucking. This is...”
“Watch your mouth.” The Old Man snarled and stepped forward, his hand ready to take a blow at Piper, claws and all. Deacon braced himself. If he raised a hand to Piper there would be no course of action but a challenge.
“Ezekial, please.” Josiah held up a hand, moved between father and daughter. “It's not unexpected that Piper wouldn't throw herself at my feet. You were the only one who believed that it would actually happen.”
“Let me be very clear, this wedding is happening. Josiah will be paired with you, a female worthy of him. I will have you bound and brought to the altar if necessary; however, if you make me take that step, I will see you punished for it.”
The threat hung heavily in the air. The Old Man's favored method of punishment was simple yet brutal, whippings carried out in front of a crowd to act as a reminder of consequences. Deacon took a deep breath, tried to clear his mind.
“Wait,” his sister's voice called out before Deacon could center himself and act. “I willingly, without hesitation, offer myself in Piper's place. You speak the truth, Leader, our numbers grow fewer and fewer. We must work together to remedy that.”
“Adelaide,” Deacon spoke up because he couldn't just stay quiet any longer. He certainly couldn't stand there and let her do what she was trying to do, especially with the way that Josiah was looking at her and the way she was looking at him.
“This is my offer to make, Deacon. I'm assuming of course that I will appeal to Josiah and that our Leader will give us his blessing.”
“Do not doubt your appeal to me,” Josiah moved to where Adelaide stood. “Leader, do you have any objection?”
“It is agreeable to me,” The Old Man spoke, and his voice filled the air, carried through the clearing. “Caro! Amanda and Piper, prepare your sister to be married.”
Deacon felt a vein begin to pulse in his temple. Either his head was literally going to explode or he was going to have a stroke. He opened his mouth to speak, but once again his sister beat him to the punch. “No, I mean not tonight, not like this. The moon, and my birthday, are in two days. That is when we should be wed, as in the old days.”
The Old Man considered her words. Finally he nodded. “We will embrace the ways of the old, show our respect as we move forward. In two days time, Josiah will take Adelaide as his bride and we will celebrate. We will all celebrate.”
“That we will,” Josiah spoke softly, reached out and cupped the side of Adelaide's face in a surprisingly intimate touch. Deacon didn't know what shocked him more, the way that Josiah was looking at Adelaide or the fact that she leaned into his touch. There was no objection when his head moved close to hers, leaned in to whisper something in her ear.
White hot rage rolled through Deacon. None of this was acceptable. It was not going to happen, not while there was still breath in his body.
“It is decided!” The Old Man bellowed the words as he pulled himself to his full height.
The air shimmered, and in an instant The Old man was transformed from a withered human to a vibrant wolf with a flowing white coat. The beast threw its head back, howled in a clear invitation to whoever wanted to join him before taking off for the tree line.
There was no way that Deacon was changing. No, he needed to stay just as he was to get answers. Answers that better be really compelling or he might just lose his mind. He waited for Adelaide to move away from Josiah, but she didn't. Instead she moved closer; they embraced. Deacon felt his stomach churn sickly. He'd never actually seen anything so vomit-inducing before, and he'd seen some shit in his time.
Deacon waited out the embrace, the whispered conversation before Josiah began to undress, handing his folded clothes to her before he changed to take off after The Old Man. Adelaide held the clothes to her chest, he saw her sniff them and was quite certain that she'd lost her mind.
Finally she moved away from the crowd, sat down with a drink. Deacon made his approach quickly, ignoring several people who called his name. He only had his mind set on one conversation, finding out what the hell his sister was doing.
“Don't Deke, I don't want to hear it,” Adelaide looked up as he walked over to where she sat. “It's the best solution to the problem. We both know Piper would have died to keep from having to marry him. She wouldn't be the only one.”
“He's dangerous, Adelaide,” Deacon held his hands stiffly at his side in an attempt to keep from grabbing her and literally shaking some sense into her.
“You might not believe me, but I can handle whatever trouble he is. I know what you see when you look at him, but there's more to him than what meets the eye. We're not going to agree, so why don't you just tell me what happened with Vera?”
“Nothing. Why would you ask that?” Deacon knew that the lie would be obvious to Adelaide; part of her gift was the way that she could read people. “And don't try to change the subject. We're not talking about me, we're talking about you.”
“I can smell her all over you, rosemary and mint. It's more than just her shampoo. It's her, and it is all over you. Might as well tell me, I'm just asking to be polite.”
“You saw?” Deacon knew he looked as horrified as he felt, the idea that Adelaide had one of her flashes while he was with Vera just made him uncomfortable beyond explanation.
“I've learned to tune it out for the most part, still it's an eyeful. Anyway, cut the bullshit. Tell me how it felt.”
“You need a description of my orgasm? Really?”
“No,” she rolled her eyes. “Be serious. You know who she is.”
“Piper told me she used to work at the liquor store. I don't really remember her.” Deacon was pretty sure that she wasn't talking about Vera's employment history. She had a look on her face, a smug look. “What?”
“That's not what I'm talking about. We do not have the time for you to be a stubborn ass. You showered after you left her, right?”
“Of course I did,” Deacon replied.
“Isn't it interesting that I can still smell her on you?” Adelaide questioned.
“She reeks of him too,” Piper had arrived so silently neither had heard her; it was one of her talents. She sat down next to Adelaide and rubbed her hands over her eyes. “Which makes absolutely no sense, considering that she's human, straight up human. I didn't smell anything else on her besides him.”
“Like I said, it's interesting. I always thought that Deke would fall for another wolf or at least a Shifter,” Adelaide continued to smile smugly.
“I'm not falling for anyone,” Deacon informed them. “Both of you need to drop it, drop it now. We've got more important concerns than who I fucked last night. Adelaide, you are not...”
“Deacon, I am. Just trust me, it'll be okay. I've got this handled. Don't worry about it. You've got bigger things to concern yourself with.” Adelaide looked around, lowered her voice. “There's something going on with him,” the words came out in a rush. “He's sick all the time, hides it well but he's sick.”
“Dying?” Deacon didn't have the same gift as his sister; as far as he could tell he didn't really have any outstanding ability, but he usually had good instincts. What Adelaide was saying made a lot of sense. It would explained the weight The Old Man had lost and the years that had suddenly shown upon his face.
“It's possible, sort of makes sense. This is some sort of play on his part, but I can't figure it out yet. I will. Just trust me, alright?” Adelaide rose to her feet. “We've said enough. I need a run.” She leaned forward and kissed Deacon's cheek. “Take care of Vera, even if you want to tell yourself she's just another in the long list of women you've fucked.”
“I'll go with you,” Piper offered. “Deke?”
He shook his head. “I'm headi
ng back to town.”
“Suit yourself,” Piper stretched her arms over her head, “you'd just slow us down anyway.”
“Smart ass,” Deacon smiled at her because she expected it. “The two of you be careful, alert. Come back safe.” He remained there until they were changed and heading to the woods.
He was too restless to stay there; there was just too much in his head. He needed to ride so that he could think, he needed to make some sort of sense of everything going on. Deacon rode for hours with no set destination, up and down roads he knew like the back of his hand.
Eventually he'd ended up where he always knew he'd end up. The spot that memorialized Finn was just a marker; there was nothing special about the actual spot in the woods where he'd taken his last breath. But Deacon would be able to find it even if he were deaf, blind and dumb.
That fateful night he'd viewed everything through the eyes of his wolf. The moon high in the sky, beautifully full, the sensation of the grass and ground beneath strong paws, one of his favorite feelings in the world. The thrill of the hunt as he and Finn chased deer was another.
He'd been close to getting one; his teeth had just nipped the hind leg when a sound or scent or something captured his attention. Deacon was confused, and then he was on the ground, pain searing through his entire being, and then nothing and he knew that Finn was gone. He hadn't made a sound. It had been instant, a perfect shot from an arrow with a silver tip.
Deacon didn't know how long he'd howled, how many times he nudged Finn with his nose in the hopes that somehow he was still alive, even though he knew better. He didn't know how much time passed before he finally shifted back to human, gathered the cooling wolf from the floor. Leaving Finn there to be consumed by other animals was not an option. The rest of the pack found him before he'd made it out of the woods. Try as they might, none were able to pick up the scent trail of whoever had taken the shot. It was like they'd simply disappeared.
Piper left within twenty-four hours of getting the news of her intended's death. For six months none of them had heard from her. She'd called Caro first and saved him for last. It was almost a year to the date of Finn's death when she'd finally called. Deacon had spent the first five minutes apologizing to her for not keeping Finn safe.
She had told him to stop, she didn't blame him and she didn't want him to blame himself. He hadn't been the one with the bow in his hand. He could have been killed himself.
Deacon appreciated her words, but there was no way they could alleviate the guilt pressing down on his shoulders. He'd been under a lot of pressure at the time as he adjusted to the responsibility of having the gavel and to taking the role he'd always imagined his brother in.
After the first contact they spoke at least once a month. Deacon was never quite sure where in the world Piper was. He didn't think anyone knew the answer to that but her, and that was how she liked it.
Time passed. Most of the members of the pack subscribed to the belief that Finn's death had been a tragic accident, most likely at the hands of a drunk human. It was terrible, a tragedy that forever changed the vision of the pack, but there was no one to blame for an accident. People moved on. Hell, even he'd moved on.
The ride and reflection time hadn't eased the restlessness that Deacon had rushing through him. As he moved back to where he'd left his bike, a memory of Vera looking over her shoulder at him as he slid inside of her rushed through his mind. He pushed it away. She was the last person he wanted to think about, especially after everything that Adelaide had said. She was implying, very pointedly, that Vera was his love match, his mate.
No, he wasn't going to think about that at all. The last thing he needed was to get involved with someone as human and fragile as Vera Warren.
Chapter SEVEN
Vera decided to leave her car parked in the lot and walk the three blocks to Rose's, even though the night was a little chilly. She threw on a sweater, hoped that the fresh air would clear her head some. Her eyes were practically crossed after staring at screens for hours. Her throat was raw from talking to countless vendors in the hopes they'd have what she needed. None did.
It was bothering her more than it should. Deacon Hawke had nerve to expect her to find the perfect thing with a vague description in what was really no time at all. She shouldn't even feel bad if she couldn't deliver; it was almost impossible she'd meet his expectations.
Vera felt her spirit lighten some as she walked into the well-lit restaurant. It was warm inside, and the air was filled with the scent of food. She smelled the distinct fragrance of chicken soup, her favorite.
“Go on and sit down,” Rose called out from behind the register, “I'll be right over.” She was as thin as she was tall, with a shock of curly hair that was snow white even though the woman was only in her forties.
“Thanks,” Vera crossed to a booth, resisted the urge to lay her head on the table. Instead she rested it in her hands before reaching to take her tablet out of her bag. She had to keep looking for something that would suit Adelaide and make Deacon happy, even if her head was killing her from the screen glare.
Before she turned it on, she needed a minute, just one little minute to rest her eyes, and she needed some food. Vera rested her head on her hands until she heard the sound of a coffee cup being placed on the table. She opened her eyes to see Rose standing there.
“You look like shit, Vera. You feeling okay?”
“I'll survive, I think. I'm just looking for a special request for a customer, and it's frustrating me that I can't just find the right thing.”
“What is it you're looking for?” Rose questioned.
“A pendant necklace,” Vera sighed, “I don't think I'm going to find it.”
“Well, it so happens I've got some stuff you could take a look at. Got a bunch of baubles I don't wear anymore. Inherited more from my sister, Violet, when she passed away. And yes, our parents named us after flowers. No trouble for me to run up and grab it.”
Vera bit back a sigh. She was sure that Rose wouldn't have anything that would do. She'll look anyway and find something to buy, just because she really liked Rose. “That sounds great, Rose.”
“I'll send Doug to grab it. You can look after you eat. Now, you look like you're starving, so what can I get you to eat?”
Vera ordered heartily; a bowl of chicken soup and a bacon cheeseburger plate that came with the best onion rings she'd ever had. Screw her diet. Just screw it. Rose took off to put in her order and send her son to pick up whatever she had. Vera knew that she should have turned the tablet on and kept looking but she just didn't.
Instead she let herself relax, warmed herself up with the soup when Rose brought it back over. She was almost halfway through her delicious cheeseburger when Doug approached the table. “Hey Vera, Ma said to give you this.”
“Thanks, Doug.”
“I was just happy to get out of here for a little bit,” the teenager flashed her a smile. “You can just leave it on the table when you're done. I'll come back and get it.”
“Sounds good, I appreciate it.” Vera took another bite of her burger as he left, wiped her hands and opened the box.
<#<#>#>#>#
It was just after midnight when Vera walked into the lot next to her shop. She was tired down to her bones but she had something she thought Adelaide Hawke was going to love. The only problem was it was definitely not an emerald. Vera had seen fire opals before; they were beautiful. This one was the most beautiful she'd ever seen. The pendant was teardrop shaped, edged in gold, and she had the perfect chain in her display case already. She knew that it was perfect because Adelaide had admired it several times when she'd been in the shop.
She walked over to the back door, fished in her purse for the keys. It was like a law that there was no finding anything in a purse, no matter the size, in under thirty seconds. The keys jingled against one another as her fingers finally closed around them. It was the sound that made Vera realize just how quiet it was outside.
&
nbsp; It was never this quiet. There were usually cars, and if not cars, people and animals. A cold finger of fear moved up Vera's spine. She felt eyes on her but saw no one. There was a glint of something in the trees at the edge of the lot; she focused on the spot even as she tried to slide the key into the lock. Whatever she'd seen, it wasn't there any longer. Great, she was officially seeing things. It was probably lack of sleep. Christ, she was tired.
Finally Vera gave up on trying to get the key into the lock blind. She glanced over and sighed with relief as she turned the deadbolt. Something made her look back towards the trees, but still there was nothing there.
“Making yourself crazy Vera, great job.” Fuck! She was just making herself worry, borrowing trouble where there was none.
So what, it was a quiet night? Big deal. Vera pushed the door open and stepped inside; it would have been a graceful entrance if she hadn't lost her footing when she stepped on the glossy flier on the floor. She went down on her ass hard, but was glad to be seated when she realized she'd slipped on a missing persons announcement.
Had she seen Grant Caldwell? Yes, she had. She'd seen him get shot in the head in the middle of her back lot the night before she slept with the man who’d pulled the trigger. “Fuck my life!” Vera began to laugh after she said it. What she really needed was some sleep. Hopefully, after a glass of wine, insomnia wouldn't be an issue.
Vera was blissfully unaware that she was being watched as she made it to her feet and shut the door.
<#<#>#>#>#
There wasn't enough coffee or energy drinks in the world to make Vera open on time Friday morning, and quite honestly she just didn't give a shit. The night before had been rough; after she'd made sure all the windows and doors were locked, she'd sat and stared at the missing person flier as if it held the answers to all life's questions and she just couldn't figure it out.
The Only Witness: The Center City Series: Book One Page 6
