by Lori Drake
Joey laughed and stepped back before he could go for a third. “Okay, I think that’s enough.”
Smiling, Chris took her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm. “Remember your training. You’re Josephine Grant and the world is your stage.” He waited until her chin lifted a smidgen more, then led her back into the library to face their relatives.
As they stepped into the room, Chris’s eyes automatically sought out his pack. Colt and Jessica appeared to be having a pleasant conversation with Ben and Wesley, the man who’d recognized Chris’s name earlier. Adam and Lucy were on the other side of the room, all but surrounded by curious guests. It wasn’t surprising that the twins were drawing a crowd. Multiple births were even rarer for lycanthropes than humans. Adam looked like he wanted to melt into the bookcase behind him, but Lucy was eating up all the attention.
“We might need to rescue Adam,” Joey said.
Chris’s heart warmed at the evidence that she was thinking about his people as well as her own. “Good idea.”
He began to lead her in that direction, but one of the visitors stepped into their path before they got very far.
“Uncle Elijah. Thank you for coming,” Joey said, reclaiming her hand and offering it to the tall, portly gentleman.
Elijah bowed stiffly over Joey’s hand and kissed it formally, but his eyes sought out Chris’s when he straightened. “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.”
Chris held his eyes and offered a handshake. “Chris Martin, Alpha of the Granite Falls pack.”
Elijah’s grip was firm. A little too firm. His eyes narrowed, and the eye contact continued in a silent challenge. “Ah, yes. I’ve heard about you.”
That didn’t sound good. Chris’s wolf stirred restlessly. Something about the older man made him uneasy, and it wasn’t just because he’d all but dismissed Joey once his attention shifted to Chris. “Good things, I hope.”
Smirking, Elijah released his hand. “Some. Seattle seems to be hard on Alphas. I’d watch your step if I were you.”
Chris bristled, but did his best to keep the anger from his face. “Always, sir.”
“Is there a problem?” Joey asked, and finally Elijah broke eye contact to shift his eyes her way.
If he met her eyes at all, Chris couldn’t tell. Elijah’s gaze swept over Joey from head to toe, and he shrugged a shoulder. “I’m not sure you two youngsters know what you’re in for. A pack without a strong Alpha is vulnerable.”
Joey took a step forward, eyes as cold as marble. “You’re walking a thin line, uncle. I want you to think carefully about what you say next.”
Chris understood her anger. He wasn’t a violent man, but he found himself wanting to punch the smirk off Elijah’s face. His next words didn’t help.
“I guess we know who wears the pants around here. Fitting, I suppose.” He looked right past Joey to Chris, meeting his eyes again with a smirk, before turning to wander toward the buffet table.
Joey took another step forward, and Chris fought the urge to put a restraining hand on her shoulder. It wouldn’t have been welcome, and such a gesture in a room full of wolves would undoubtedly be read into. “Let it go, babe,” he whispered, too quietly for the words to carry far—even for those with wolf hearing.
Shaking her head, Joey huffed out a sigh and muttered, “I hope he chokes on a canapé.”
Her comment sparked a chuckle, a much-needed pressure release. Chris reeled her in for a quick hug. “Come on, let’s keep circulating. This will all be over soon.”
He couldn’t have been more wrong. The last guest didn’t leave until close to two in the morning, and by that time, they’d dealt with more veiled insults and skepticism than Chris had even thought to expect. It seemed that many of the Grants were either unhappy with Adelaide’s youngest taking over for her or wanted to test her mettle. Many, but not all. Fortunately.
“Well, that was a disaster.” Joey sighed and leaned her back against the front door while Chris armed the alarm. His pack had left without him hours ago; he’d seen no reason to make them play the waiting game with him. He’d get someone to give him a ride home in the morning.
“There was no blood spilled. I’ll call that a win.”
Joey snorted and rubbed her shoulder. “Are you sure about that? There were plenty of barbed comments and pointed looks.”
“We’ll survive. Maybe by the time they leave, they’ll come around.”
“You know I usually love your optimism, but I think it’s misplaced this time.”
Chris considered the possibility that she was right. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand her concern—he just didn’t share it. “So what if they don’t? We don’t need their approval or their blessing. When this is over, they’re all going to get in their chartered jets and head back to whatever expensive woodwork they crawled out of.”
A smile slowly spread from Joey’s eyes outward. “Fuck ‘em.”
Chris chucked her under her chin. “That’s the spirit.”
Joey pushed off the door and wrapped an arm around his waist. “You staying over again?”
“As long as you don’t mind.”
“I could get used to it, actually.”
Chris tucked Joey against his side and headed for the stairs with her. He could get used to it too, but he tried not to get too wistful about it. They still had a lot to figure out, but as long as they stuck together, they were headed in the right direction. Or headed right off a cliff. Sometimes it was hard to tell.
5
Joey dreamed of running. The forest came alive around her as she wove through the trees, the sights, sounds, and smells of the wilderness permeating her senses. Liberated from human cares and worries, she plunged ahead into the darkness, her paws nearly silent on the forest floor with its dense carpet of pine needles. The thrill of the chase filled her. Or, more specifically, of being chased.
She could hear Chris behind her. He was gaining ground as she began to tire. But the point of running wasn’t always to escape. It was way more fun to let him catch her.
They burst into a familiar clearing, and Joey felt a nip at her tail. Her breathing was short, lungs burning each time they filled with the crisp night air. Her side stitched and she skidded to a halt, flopping on the ground and yelping as Chris pounced atop her. She wrestled with him, but it was harmless, all gentle nips and playful growls until that too was too much effort and they merely lay there with the moonlight filtering down through the dense canopy above, catching their breath.
The first time a bee buzzed near her ear, she flicked her ear and ignored it. But it persisted, even when she shook her head and snapped at it in annoyance.
She woke to the sound of her phone vibrating on the nightstand and fumbled for it with a groan.
Beside her, Chris pulled the pillow over his head and groaned too. “Five more minutes, Mom.”
Joey squinted at the phone’s display. It wasn’t a number she recognized, so she declined the call and dropped the phone back onto the nightstand. Rolling toward Chris, she snuggled up against him and closed her eyes again. It was barely six in the morning, and while Joey was an early riser, she still needed her beauty sleep.
“Who was it?” Chris’s voice was muffled by the pillow.
“Dunno. They’ll leave a message if it’s important. Go back to sleep.”
She drifted back off to sleep to the soothing motion of his fingers caressing her back, and the next thing she knew, a loud banging noise jerked her from sleep. She sat bolt upright in bed, heart racing as she identified the banging as a loud and aggressive knock on the door.
“Coming!” she called, glancing at the clock as she slid from the bed and grabbed her robe. Only fifteen minutes had passed since her mystery call. That didn’t bode well. She quickly threw on her robe and answered the door, frowning when she found Sam standing out there with his fist raised to knock again. “I said I was coming,” she snapped, but his grim expression gave her pause. “What’s going on?”
“Wesley Grant’s body was found floating in the hotel swimming pool an hour ago.”
A hand landed on Joey’s shoulder, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. But it was only Chris. “Found by who?” he asked.
Sam grimaced. “Housekeeping.”
“Shit,” Joey said, rubbing a hand down her face. “That means cops. Okay, give me a few minutes to throw some clothes on and I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“We’ll both meet you downstairs,” Chris said.
Sam lingered until Joey gave him a nod. She closed the door behind him and leaned against it. “I suppose it’s too much to hope it was suicide?”
Chris took her shoulders gently in his hands and bent to press a kiss into her hair. The fact that he hadn’t bothered with a robe barely registered. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions. But I’m going to see if I can rouse anyone at my place before we go. Make sure everyone there is okay.”
Joey nodded. “Good idea.”
Neither of them bothered showering, just threw on clothes and headed downstairs to meet with Sam. Chris still had his phone pressed to his ear. He hadn’t gotten an answer from anyone in his pack yet, and Joey could practically feel his mounting anxiety. She laced her fingers through his in silent support.
“All of ours are accounted for?” Joey asked, meeting Sam’s eyes as they approached.
He nodded and held the door open for them to head out into the drizzly morning. The sun wasn’t even up yet, and Joey didn’t stop for an umbrella. They hurried to the garage, and she hesitated only briefly before climbing into the back seat with Chris. As the car doors closed, shutting them in, her anxiety spiked and once Sam started the car, she rolled down the window a few inches.
Even though Chris was preoccupied, he caught her hand and squeezed. She met his eyes and flashed a weak but grateful smile. Then he motioned with his head, and she scooted closer to him. He put his arm around her as Sam backed the car out of the garage. Joey focused on her breathing and kept her eyes on the landscape outside the car. The fresh air did help that enclosed-space feeling, but with the rain, she wouldn’t be able to keep it down for long.
Chris tensed. “Hey, it’s me. Did everyone make it back okay last night?”
Joey held back a sigh of relief, glad someone had finally answered but knowing that was only half the battle.
“Glad to hear it. Did Itsuo stay the night? Okay, I need you to check on everyone. Yes, now. There was an incident at the hotel.”
Joey closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down. Between being boxed inside the car, concerned for Chris’s people, and uncertain what awaited them at the hotel, it was all she could do to sit still. She wasn’t doing a very good job at it, either, because Chris put a hand on her knee to still its bouncing after a minute or two of tense silence.
He relaxed a moment later. “Okay, great. Thanks, Jess. Yeah, that’s a good idea. Make sure everything is locked down and tell the others to stay put until you hear from me again. I’m fine, I’m with Joey and Sam. Uh-huh. Okay. Talk to you soon.” He disconnected the call and set his phone in his lap. “All present and accounted for.”
Joey blew out a relieved breath and leaned against him. “Great.”
It was nearly an hour’s drive to the hotel in downtown Seattle where Sam had reserved a block of rooms for their out-of-town guests. Sam pulled into the valet driveway to drop them off. An ambulance was parked right outside the doors, and a uniformed cop stood outside, keeping an eye on things. Joey nodded politely to him, but she and Chris continued through the hotel’s wide revolving door and into the lobby.
Lucas peeled away from a column he’d been leaning against and strode purposefully toward them. His expression was understandably grave. “I was able to get one of the staff to spill the beans. He was found a couple of hours ago by a housekeeper going to restock towels in the locker rooms. They pulled him out of the pool, but he was already gone.”
“Drowned?” Joey guessed. It was only logical, given that the body had been found floating in the pool.
“It looks that way,” Lucas said. “The cops woke everyone up to ask questions. They’re taking statements in one of the ballrooms.”
Chris touched Joey’s back and nodded to Lucas. “Lead the way.”
Lucas led them across the lobby, past the entrance to the bar and grill and down a short hallway to the ballroom in question.
There was another uniform stationed outside the door, and he held out an arm to block their passage as they approached. “Sorry, folks. The ballroom’s closed.”
“We’re part of the Grant party,” Lucas said before Joey could get a word in edgewise.
“Ah, go right in, then.” The cop paused awkwardly before adding, “Sorry for your loss.”
Joey nodded to him, then looked at Lucas. “Sam’s parking the car. Would you mind waiting for him in the lobby and bringing him back?”
“Sure, no problem.”
Once Lucas headed off, Joey entered the ballroom with Chris on her heels. Inside, the guests milled about in a mixture of bathrobes and hastily donned attire. There was a wide range of emotions on display, from fresh grief to annoyance and everything in between. Joey took a moment to get her bearings. The size of the group seemed to be causing the police a bit of trouble, but two plainclothes detectives had set up shop at a table at one end of the ballroom while the guests had been herded to the opposite side of the room. It wasn’t far enough to prevent the wolves from overhearing the statements being given to the detectives, but those detectives had no way of knowing.
Joey exchanged a brief glance with Chris, then strode over to the guests’ side of the room with him at her side. She imagined herself a prisoner marching off to face the firing squad with her head held high. Maybe a little dramatic, but she wasn’t sure what to expect after last night’s fiasco of a welcome reception.
A stony-faced Elijah stepped forward to intercept them, but she let Chris handle him and slipped past, heading straight for Wesley’s mother. The dark-haired woman was seated in a chair, shaking hands curled around a cup of coffee. Her red-rimmed eyes told the tale of her misery, and Joey’s heart went out to her. No parent should have to bury their child. It was bad enough for the child to bury the parent. It was even worse considering that Wesley and his mother had been among the few guests who’d actually behaved decently toward Joey and Chris last night. If they had any high-minded opinions about Joey and Chris’s relationship or their fitness to lead, they’d kept them well guarded.
Joey gave her a hug. “I’m so sorry, Eleanor.”
Eleanor’s slender frame shook as she returned the hug with one arm. “I just don’t understand it. He was such a strong swimmer.”
The words sent a chill down Joey’s spine. From the moment she’d heard about Wesley’s death, she’d had the nagging worry that foul play might have been involved. But she couldn’t afford to jump to conclusions. There was just too much at stake. “He seemed okay when he left the house last night, but did he do any drinking when he got back to the hotel?”
Eleanor shook her head and pulled back, looking in Joey’s eyes. The pain, fresh and raw and naked, was hard to look at. “No, not that I know of. I mean, he’s a grown man and has—had—his own room. But that doesn’t sound like him, anyway. He’s not—wasn’t— Oh God have mercy.” She collapsed against Joey, sobbing uncontrollably.
Joey carefully took the coffee cup from her and held it out until someone—she didn’t care who—took it from her. Then she folded her arms around Eleanor and held her as she wept. A few other guests drifted closer, putting comforting hands on Eleanor’s back. Joey stroked Eleanor’s hair and looked over at Chris. He was engaged in an obviously tense conversation with Elijah, but their voices were too low for her to make out what they were saying amongst the quiet hum of conversation in the ballroom.
Eleanor recovered enough to pull away again, wiping her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve. “I’m sorry. I just… I’m sorry.”
“Sh
h.” Joey put a hand on her shoulder and met her eyes again, wishing she had Sara’s knack for comforting. Tough love was more Joey’s specialty, but she knew better than to whip that out with Eleanor. For one, they barely knew each other, and for another, Joey understood her pain. She’d all but lost her mind when her mother died, and it’d taken a supreme effort of will to pull herself together in the aftermath. It wasn’t until hours later, behind closed doors, that she’d let herself fall apart and trusted Chris to put her back together again. “You have nothing to apologize for, Eleanor. I understand.”
“You have to find out what happened to him,” Eleanor said, clutching Joey’s arm. “This wasn’t an accident.”
Joey winced and glanced across the room at the detectives, who were busily interviewing another guest. “We’ll find out the truth. I promise. But you can’t tell the police that. We can’t have them sniffing around. It’s too dangerous. Do you understand that, Eleanor?” She caught her eyes again, putting a bit of an alpha’s weight behind her words.
Eleanor lowered her eyes in submission, but there was an undercurrent of steel in her voice when she said, “Of course I understand.” She sniffled a bit and looked around. The gent that had her coffee offered it to her again, and she took it with a weak but grateful smile.
Joey straightened and looked at the small group that’d gathered around them—circling the wagons, as it were. “That goes for the rest of you, too. As far as the police know, this was a horrible accident, nothing more. We’ll all speak candidly about it when we have some privacy.”
There were nods and murmurs of assent, some more grumbly than others. Satisfied, Joey gave Eleanor’s shoulder a squeeze and went to rescue Chris.
His posture was relaxed, hands in pockets, but his jaw was tight as he listened to whatever it was Elijah had to say. Joey caught the tail end of it as she approached, better able to tune in to the hushed words when she could see the older wolf’s fleshy lips moving.
“…right under your nose, because it’s too far buried up that bitch’s ass!”
