by Dannika Dark
I reeled back my arm and threw a hard punch. He bent over, his nose bloody.
Some of the men standing nearby hit their chest once with a closed fist and muttered “Respect.”
The confrontation fizzled out with no hard feelings. That was the law among these men, and I knew their code. Nobody ever took shit personally, and the bikers had a motto that if you don’t stand up for yourself and say your piece, no one will ever respect you. These men were partly responsible for why I was strong-minded and outspoken. Humans preached these qualities in a woman but rarely accepted them. It was why I’d had trouble holding down jobs let alone boyfriends. But these tools aided in my survival, allowing me to live in the Breed world where only the strongest of women survived. Little did I realize these men had empowered me with one of the greatest gifts, and that was the ability to think for myself, look after myself, and fight for myself. They truly raised me as an equal. Speaking one’s mind was a way of life for these guys.
And defending Crush was a way of life for me.
Tank pointed over my head. “Someone get our guest of honor a beer.”
“Tequila,” I shouted. “And a hamburger with the works.”
“Your wish is my command,” Tank said, shouldering his way through the crowd.
Crush found me again and put his arm around my shoulders, leading us toward the firepit. “Some of the guys want to shift.”
“Why?”
“Remember what I said about things getting a little more free-spirited around here over the past few years?”
I got it. Without me around, everyone was allowed to be themselves and shift at the parties. “That’s fine. They can do whatever they want.”
“If you’re not up for introductions, I can tell them no.”
“As long as nobody humps my leg or goes for my jugular, I’ll agree. And don’t think I won’t stab the first man who tries.”
“Don’t think I won’t stab them first.”
I CLIMBED a ladder onto the roof of my father’s trailer. Usually I just scaled the tree, but after a few drinks, I decided to be safe about it and prop a tall ladder against the side of his home. The music played some forgotten slow jam by Badfinger, and a few of the guys below were trying and failing miserably to hit all the high notes in the chorus. Wolves dashed around the property, some stopping to bay at the moon. Since the trailers in his park were a fair distance apart, residents had enough privacy to do whatever they wanted. Crush informed me that some of his neighbors were rogue Shifters who didn’t belong to a pack. There was a stereotype about rogues since wolves lived and died by the pack, but people seemed to overlook it as long as they contributed to the community. Viktor probably could have been a beta wolf, but he’d chosen to do something else with his life—something good.
I sat cross-legged and took a swig from my beer, exhausted from having spent the entire evening listening to old stories and meeting wolves. Ren had supervised to make sure the wolves didn’t do anything stupid like maul me. As it turned out, I’d already met a few. In the early days when my father used to drink, some of Ren’s packmates used to guard the trailer whenever I was home alone. I’d just assumed they were stray dogs.
“Thought I’d find you up here.”
I glanced at Switch as he climbed onto the roof.
He walked toward me and took a seat at my side, one knee drawn up. “Man, they’re awful.”
I smiled at the men whose voices were giving out as they reached the chorus. “Did your dad come?”
“No, I think he had work he couldn’t get out of.” Switch gave me a lingering look and tilted his head to the side. “You’ve changed.”
I took a swig. “In what way?”
“I don’t know.” He swept his long hair away from his face and studied me for a beat. “You’re tougher. I still remember the shy girl who cared what everyone thought about her at a stupid dance.”
“It wasn’t stupid. It was just another example of how I never fit in with everyone else.”
“Who the hell wants to fit in? Most of those clowns are working desk jobs and trying to figure out if they should trade in their SUV for a minivan. You’ve always fit in with us.”
My eyes glazed over as I stared down at the flames licking the night air from the firepit. Crush looked so damn happy sitting in his lawn chair with a bottle of orange soda in one hand and a stogie in the other. I could faintly hear him telling another one of my childhood stories.
“I don’t think I can lose him,” I admitted quietly.
Switch bent his other knee and draped his arms around them. “We all lose everyone eventually. Nothing lasts forever.”
“But I have to lose him sooner, and I can’t bear to think about it.” When my words faltered, I turned my head away.
His voice softened, and he bumped his shoulder against mine. “You won’t be left alone, if that’s what you’re afraid of. The packs are your family. Always will be. Ren’s not exactly a lovable guy, but he treats you just as good as he treats his own daughter. That’s why he accepted you back with no questions asked. Everyone knows you’ve got a story, but whatever happened doesn’t take away the love they still feel for you.”
I tugged on a long lock of my black hair and twirled it around my finger. Telling my story might garner sympathy and understanding, but it felt safer to hide the emotional scars. I didn’t want to risk scrutiny or judgment. How could a bunch of Shifters sympathize with my choice to drink a Vampire’s immortal blood, especially knowing that by doing so, I’d be abandoning my father? That before it took hold, a Mage suffused my core light with his, and in the midst of chaos, my body accepted immortality from both my maker and Creator. My existence was an impossibility to some and an abomination to others. I sure didn’t want to delve into the details about how my Creator was a light addict and held me captive. Aside from all that, what would they say about the countless men I’d murdered? There were too many land mines to navigate.
“What have you been up to all these years?” I asked, eager to deflect the attention from myself. “Why aren’t you in a pack?”
He stretched his arms forward and then gripped his wrist. “I left my family when I was about twenty. I don’t know how much you know about Shifters, but it’s customary the kids leave the pack when they’re of age. Some mate right away, others get jobs and find their own pack.”
I looked up at him. “You’ve been on your own for more than ten years?”
“Something like that.”
When he steered his eyes forward, I noticed how his prominent brow jutted out a little over his eyes, giving him an interesting profile. Switch was a handsome guy, and it was a wonder someone hadn’t snatched him up already.
“So what are you waiting for, a mate?”
“That would probably make my life easier.”
“Why’s that? You could join a pack if you wanted to.”
“I just meant it would be easier for me to mate since I’m not in a pack. If she’s already settled, I can just join up with her. Well, as long as the Packmaster approves. The only exception would be if she was still with her original pack.”
“Which would mean you were robbing the cradle.”
“Yeah. I don’t want a twenty-year-old.”
I chuckled and sipped my beer. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard that come out of a man’s mouth.”
He turned his head to look at me and tilted it. “What about you, Raven Graves? Any special man in your life?”
I stared down at the fire again. “My name isn’t Graves anymore. It’s Black. Raven Black.”
He watched me with inquisitive eyes but didn’t interrupt.
“And I thought there was a man, but now I’m not sure if what we have is real or in my imagination.”
“Sounds to me like he hasn’t made his intentions clear. That’s his fault. No woman of mine would ever have to wonder if I’m courting her. If this man of yours isn’t careful, someone else is going to come along and steal your heart.”
<
br /> “It’s more complicated than that. So back to you, Switcharoo, what are you doing these days to make money?”
“I’m a nanny.”
I bumped shoulders with him. “Seriously.”
“Seriously.”
My head jerked back. “You’re a nanny?”
“Why? You think it’s only a job for women?”
I raked him over with my eyes. “You’re a biker who dresses like he just got out of the clink. When’s the last time you trimmed your hair? I’m just surprised anyone would entrust you with their babies.”
“I’m actually good with kids.”
“Wait, who do you nanny for?”
“One of the local packs.”
I set my beer bottle down. “I thought packs took care of their own?”
“Do you really wanna know all this?”
“I live with a Shifter, but I don’t really have any idea how the pack thing works. My dad hangs out with a bunch of Shifters, so I might as well learn.”
“Okay.” Switch stretched out his long legs, crossed them at the ankle, and leaned back on his palms. “The bigger packs can usually work out a schedule between all the packmates, but the smaller ones struggle. Especially when they’re not doing well financially and everyone has to get a job. Because of the hectic hours and small household, it’s tough for them. So sometimes they hire nannies.”
I was trying to imagine Switch with a baby under one arm while he chased after a rambunctious group of children, and it kind of tugged at my heartstrings. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but wouldn’t packs prefer a woman over a man to watch their children? People see all those stories in the news.”
Fire blazed in his eyes, and he threw me a rigid look. “No one hurts my kids.” Switch launched to his feet and literally jumped off the roof.
“Switch, wait! That’s not what I meant.”
When I bent over, I saw nothing but a pile of clothes and a wolf dashing into the woods.
“Good job, Raven. Insult the only people who care about you.”
I knew Switch would never harm a child. But people cling to stereotypes, and I wondered if that had hindered him in any way from getting work. Unfortunately, it had all come out the wrong way.
I stood up and swayed for a minute. Then I grabbed my beer and walked to the end of the roof where I’d propped the ladder. It took me a minute to get on it, but I managed to descend the ladder without killing myself.
Ren eased up, his hair all combed back in that wavy style that made him look like a character out of Grease. He had big, hulking shoulders, and maybe that was why I’d always been intimidated by him.
Or maybe it was just the fact that he was a wolf in biker’s clothing.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“I think I pissed off Switch. I didn’t know he was a nanny.”
Ren put his arm around me, and we ambled across the yard. “Hope you didn’t judge him too harshly. Murder isn’t a badge of honor for a man who still hasn’t joined a pack.”
I halted in my tracks. “Murder?”
By the look on his face, Ren realized he’d divulged more than I knew. “A few years ago, Switch worked for a reputable pack in the territory. One day he found out an uncle of one of the boys had done things an uncle shouldn’t do.”
Chills ran down my spine.
Ren veered toward the firepit. “Switch was young and impulsive. Instead of going to the Packmaster like he should have, he took matters into his own hands. Caught the uncle out one night and murdered him in cold blood. After he explained his actions to the Council, they released him. The Packmaster could have pursued a charge against him since it was within his rights, but he fired Switch instead. He couldn’t forgive his crime.” Ren put his hand behind my back. “Switch did a noble thing, but it put a mark on him.”
“How so?”
Ren stopped in front of me, arms folded. “He’s a loyal wolf, no doubt about it. But going behind a Packmaster’s back was impulsive, and that’s going to make it hard for him. A Packmaster wants loyal packmates who respect the hierarchy, not someone who circumvents rules. It wasn’t his right to carry out justice. That right belonged to either the Packmaster or the boy’s parents. Switch chose to ignore authority, and that’s a sign of disrespect. I have no doubt the Packmaster would have taken out that wolf himself—no one would stand for that kind of evilness. But it is what it is.”
“So that’s why he hasn’t joined a pack yet.”
“Some wolves wait two hundred years before settling down. No big deal. But usually they’re bounty hunters proving their worth as warriors. Switch is watching kids. Maybe in time people will forget what he’s done, but even if he moves away, his past will always follow him. Packs do their research.”
I scanned the property but saw no sign of Switch’s brown wolf.
“He takes good care of those kids,” Ren went on. “Switch has always looked out for little ones, even when he was a kid himself. Some wolves have a higher instinct to protect than others. He would have made a good watchdog.”
I thought about Switch’s admirable actions when he took me to that dance on short notice after I was stood up. I’d never sensed reluctance but remembered him going out of his way to show me a good time. Thinking back, Switch was always that guy. His tender heart was perhaps his most attractive quality of all.
“He’s a good teacher,” Ren continued. “He doesn’t just babysit, if that’s what you’re thinking. Switch teaches classes and gives those kids a solid education. That’s not something all pack children get. They learn the basics of reading, writing, and arithmetic, but most of the jobs we do in this world are trade.”
“I always wondered why he didn’t go to the same school as me.”
“It’s really up to the parents, but most of us don’t want our kids mingling with humans. It puts ideas in their heads that clash with our beliefs. What use do they have learning about human history or human biology? Most of us run family businesses or learn a trade from a packmate.”
“Maybe it’s not so much what they’ll learn in the classroom. Going to public school would give them experience interacting with humans on a social level. It’s a big world out there, Ren. You can’t isolate yourselves from everyone.”
Ren patted my back as we reached the firepit. “You’re just like your old man. Anyone ever tell you that?”
I took a swig of beer before stumbling into an empty chair. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
CHAPTER 6
Shepherd stoked the cinders in the hearth, revitalizing the fire. Sparks chased each other up the flue as flames devoured the new log on the grate. The gathering room had an intimate atmosphere that everyone in the house enjoyed. The lofty ceiling and painted windows made it regal, and the massive bookshelf on the right gave it class. Viktor could have spread the furniture out, but he clustered it against the divider wall and in front of the grand fireplace, never allowing an opportunity for someone to isolate themselves from the group.
Hunter was lying on a brown fur rug that Claude had laid out to the right of the fireplace, close enough to enjoy the warmth but not too close. Shepherd found himself constantly analyzing every potential hazard from the perilous staircases to how easily Hunter could unlatch the locks on the outside doors.
This was Hunter’s second night with Keystone since Shepherd decided to raise him. Kira had fallen behind on her duties, so some of the crew took up the slack by watching the kid. Because of the forced vacation, it wasn’t an issue. But what would happen when Viktor lifted the work ban and they resumed taking assignments? How could Kira complete her endless list of duties and keep an eye on the boy at the same time?
Shepherd strode back to the couch and sat down on the far right since Niko was hogging up the opposite end. Niko’s head was reclined and his eyes closed, but Shepherd suspected he was awake and listening to Claude’s storytelling.
Shepherd gazed down at Claude, who was sitting next to Hunter and reading Go
odnight Moon, periodically holding up the book so the boy could look at the pictures.
It was the third reading.
Claude—with his soothing voice—didn’t seem to mind. Shepherd didn’t have that voice. His was textured and stern, and no kid would want to hear that before going to bed. Not unless he wanted nightmares.
From the leather chair facing away from the fireplace, Viktor set down his book and glanced at Blue in the chair nearest him. She’d fallen asleep, her legs drawn up and hidden beneath her red dress, the bell-shaped sleeves concealing her hands.
Shepherd enjoyed the company of his team even though he wasn’t much of a talker. Sometimes a man got lonely, and being around others gave him a measure of comfort.
“I think I need to buy him some decent clothes,” Shepherd said, interrupting Claude. “His pants are too short.”
Claude stopped reading and glanced up, his golden eyes absorbing all the firelight. “I think that’s an excellent idea. What about books for his shelf?”
“What shelf?” Viktor asked, reaching for his glass of vodka. “Shepherd has not chosen a room for him. He lives with Kira.”
Shepherd picked up a judgmental tone he didn’t like. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Your vacation won’t last forever,” Viktor reminded him. “Do these things while you still have time.”
Claude set the book on his knee. “Would you like me to pick up some books while I’m out? I’m going to the salon tomorrow. Keystone work might be on hold, but people still need their hair done. It’s no trouble. There’s a store nearby.”
Shepherd nodded reluctantly, uncomfortable with crutching on others to do what he should be doing himself. He was unprepared for the responsibilities of fatherhood, and they were hitting him left and right like a boxer in a ring.
Hunter tapped Claude’s knee, urging him to continue reading. Claude smiled and picked up where he left off.
Why couldn’t Shepherd be that kind of father? Watching the way Hunter interacted with everyone else left him gutted. What if they never bonded? What if Hunter grew to despise him and he wound up stuck in the mansion, living a life he hadn’t asked for?
