Huntress Born (Wolf Legacy Book 1)

by Aimee Easterling

  Her emphasis on the final point suggested she thought it actually mattered, as if a human legal ceremony was responsible for anything beyond lowering a mated pair’s tax bill. But, looking into Harmony’s eyes, I saw more than a two-legger’s need for formality. Instead, confusion and hurt glowed forth, along with stark uncertainty about her relationship with Derek that cut me to my very core.

  I wanted to tell my sister that she was wrong, that Derek adored his mate and pup. But...my brother had never so much as mentioned their existence during our long hours of video chat. He hadn’t moved into this apartment, which smelled nothing like moss, not even in the dusty corners where no one had thought to scrub. And he hadn’t left any contingency plans in place to support a woman who should mean more to him than his own skin.

  So maybe Harmony was right about Derek. But that didn’t mean she lacked a clan. “You’re my sister,” I told her, reaching out one hand to pat her knee. The contact calmed my human side and soothed my wolf all at once. But then my eyes widened as I realized the disaster I’d unwittingly set into motion just a few hours earlier.

  Because assuming he was true to his word, Chief Greenbriar would come sniffing around this apartment soon, seeking the stalker who had threatened my sister the previous night. Would the alpha smell what I had missed—that my brother’s sperm was responsible for the baby napping in the other room? Would “Top Dog” pull the Garcias into his pack...or would he take the easy way out and slay the humans to maintain the sanctity of shifter-kind?

  I digested the danger for a split second, then I made my decision. “You’re my sister,” I repeated. “And you have to move. Tonight.”

  PREDICTABLY, HARMONY refused to obey my ultimatum. Equally predictably, she thought I was nuts to even suggest such a thing.

  “We can talk more about this tomorrow,” the human interjected when my words disintegrated into a pile of muddled explanation...that didn’t, you know, actually explain anything. Then Harmony disappeared into the room already occupied by her mother and baby, leaving me no alternative save retreating back into my own space to gnaw on the issue alone.

  And for the first few minutes, I tried to walk my worries away right there in my borrowed bedroom. But, let’s be honest, pacing down a six-foot-long aisle partially obstructed by a chest of drawers on one side and an overhanging comforter on the other isn’t entirely satisfying. Unsurprisingly, I soon found myself growing more frustrated rather than less so.

  Meanwhile, my brain whirled through so many might-have-beens and may-bes that I wasn’t really getting any rational thinking done. So, I turned around to twist the lock on the door behind my back, then I slipped out of my clothes and relaxed into the skin of my wolf.

  In lupine form, the room brightened even as the intensity of colors dulled. Rosie’s snuffling breathing and her grandmother’s snores traveled easily from the other room, while the subtle rustle of Harmony tossing and turning suggested that my sister—like me—had ended the evening with more questions than answers running through her head.

  At least she doesn’t have to get up early tomorrow to go to work, I thought, salving my guilt for having dropped a bomb on my newfound sister without thinking up an adequate explanation to go along with it. Unfortunately, my own work schedule involved no such leeway. Not only was I expected at the coffee shop at eleven as usual, I had a full morning planned before my job even began.

  Still, as a wolf, I understood that tomorrow would take care of itself. There was really nothing to be done except to finish out today.

  To that end, I plopped down onto the bed, tucking my nose beneath my tail and forcing aching muscles to relax into somnolence. But my ears continued to twitch at every sound emanating from the other room, and the streetlight outside the window persisted in glaring directly into my sensitive eyes.

  Rising, I turned in three tight circles to soften my nest, then flopped back down once again. But this time my own panting grated on my ears, fur itching all up and down my spine as my skin rebelled against mandatory solitude.

  I needed pack. At home, I would have slipped outside my cottage door and howled once, then watched as cousins poured from their homes to join me on a midnight run. Or, if I’d really felt low, I could have crept inside my parents’ home and jumped up into the tiny space between Terra’s front and Wolfie’s back. Sure, I was all grown up...but a wolf is never too old for a heart-felt cuddle.

  I knew this would be a problem, I reminded myself. I’d hardened myself in preparation for the trip, resolving to run solo through the city no matter how welcoming the Greenbriar clan turned out to be. That was the way shifter society worked if I wanted to keep my nose clean and still make it home with no entanglements I’d later regret.

  At the time, the task had appeared simple enough. And yesterday, I’d managed to fend off my urge for family despite the Greenbriar mantle tugging me to form a more permanent connection with the local pack.

  Tonight, in contrast, my family was present in the very next room. A sister, a niece, and a grumpy old woman who I supposed must be my very first great-aunt.

  Thumping my nose against the wall that lay between us, my wolf assessed how thin and breakable the barrier might be. Drywall—not so hard to tear through as long as we didn’t run into a stud.

  Whoa, there, I reined in my inner beast. Creepy stalker guests might open their hostess’s door and peek inside in human form. In contrast, only monsters burst through the wall to lick at humans’ sleeping faces.

  But I needed pack so deeply that my claws tucked in and out like those of a cat. Slobber soaked the bedspread where I’d drooled out my distress and my ears pinned back against my skull. Finally giving in, I leapt to the floor and nosed at the pocket of flour-dusted work pants.

  The phone glowed to life immediately, Derek’s face shining up at me as it had done repeatedly throughout the day. This time, though, I winced and looked away, my brother’s enigmatic smile suddenly more confusing than it was heartening.

  Still, I managed to swipe over to the call function despite Derek’s ambush, then I tapped at Dad’s image on the screen. And, when Wolfie answered, voice scratchy with sleep, I whined out the thinnest trickle of sound by way of greeting.

  “Buttercup,” Wolfie murmured with no surprise or annoyance evident in his voice despite the late hour. He must have put some serious effort into our connection too, because as he spoke the Greenbriar mantle rippled and folded back out of the way. Then I could feel my father through our own pack bond, his incorporeal arms hugging me and filling my belly with wolf-imbued warmth.

  “Go to sleep,” my father crooned, his words descending into a lullaby. And, curled around the phone like a life line, I obeyed my alpha. Dropping chin onto paws, I went out like a light.

  Chapter 17

  Everything always looks brighter in the morning...especially after waking up in lupine form with the sound of my parents’ steady breathing on the other end of the line. Shaking off my lupine skin and picking up the phone with human fingertips, I pressed the device to my ear with a genuine smile on my lips.

  “Morning, Mom, Dad.”

  “Good morning, Buttercup,” Wolfie answered, his voice a whisper. Muffled by distance, I could still make out the steady whistle of Terra’s not-quite-snore in the distance, and I lowered my own voice to keep from waking my mother up.

  “I know you want details, but I’ve got to hustle,” I started, excuses more unwieldy when I had to spin them directly into my father’s ear rather than through an intermediary.

  But Wolfie didn’t press the point. Instead, he offered the same unconditional support as always. “You know we’re here if you need us,” he rumbled...and as Dad spoke I realized there was something he could do to help me protect my newfound sister without putting everyone’s noses out of joint.

  “Actually...do you think you could track down a phone number? I know the Greenbriar pack almost certainly keeps theirs just as deeply unlisted as we do, but maybe...?”

 
Dad harrumphed as if he’d been insulted. “You ask that as if you’re uncertain of my skills,” he growled, reminding me that his day job was keeping businesses’ computers safe from internet attack. “Give me a name and I’ll have the number before you’re done brushing your teeth.”

  Then he, rather than I, was the one to click off the phone. Grinning, I ran my tongue around the inside of my mouth, feeling the moss that had built up after failing to attend to basic dental hygiene the night before. Sometimes, I thought Dad was a mind reader—he certainly didn’t miss a single trick.

  So I texted over all the information I had available before creeping into the bathroom, carefully bypassing the cheerful voices that emanated from the other end of the hall in the process. And, sure enough, by the time I’d regained my usual minty fresh breath, Andrea Greenbriar’s number sat on my phone’s screen, just waiting to be used.

  Only, now that the avenue had opened before me, the idea of using Andrea to fend off her mate seemed trickier than it had a few minutes earlier. Time to add a trace of self-assurance to my voice.

  To that end, I pulled my most formal set of clothing out of my suitcase, slipping into a business suit that cupped my breasts and thighs while still making me feel more like a badass rather than a femme fatale. I even swiped on a coat of lipstick and splashed eyeshadow onto my lids. Then, sitting on the bed as primly as any society matron, I dialed the relevant number and waited for the alpha’s mate to pick up.

  The phone rang so many times I wasn’t sure if the city’s matriarch would even accept my call. But at last, Andrea answered, her voice both curt and cold. “Who is this?”

  My number would have shown up on her phone as “unlisted,” and it said something about the tenuousness of the female’s current position that she’d bothered to answer at all. So I left her hanging for ten solid seconds to consolidate my perceived dominance. Then, one instant before Andrea would have ended our connection, I spoke. “We need to talk.”

  “We have nothing to talk about.” Despite her terse response, though, Andrea didn’t bother pretending ignorance. She recognized my voice, had likely expected a call like this for over a decade. How could she not when her family secret made the future appear so dark that she didn’t dare peer further ahead than the following day?

  It was hard not to feel sorry for a mother placed in such an impossible situation...especially when the future she feared was built upon old-fashioned beliefs as precarious as a house of cards. But Andrea had bought into the bunk and I needed leverage to protect my human sister and niece. So I played dirty. “With Aaron as your son...you really don’t think we need to meet face to face?”

  For one long moment, it appeared that I’d pressed too hard. Andrea’s breathing grew harsh and loud on the other end of the line, and I could almost feel her wolf rising up behind human eyes. Sure enough, when she spoke at last, the words came out garbled around lupine fangs. “When and where?”

  “The coffee shop on campus. 10:30,” I answered. Then, feeling thoroughly dirty despite my recent shower, I ended the call.

  I ALMOST LEFT THE ROOM as I was rather than digging out the gift Auntie Fen had given me at the beginning of my journey. After all, what good were physical weapons against a werewolf who could freeze me in place with a single word?

  But, if nothing else, the knives would act as a physical connection to my absent family. So I unwrapped the slender blades with care then slipped each into a sheath, the first accessible through a slit in my pants pocket, the second around my ankle, and a third hidden alongside my spine. Assuming a shifter didn’t get the jump on me so quickly I was unable to move my hands, I was ready for anything.

  Well, I was ready for anything...save the two sets of accusing eyes that met mine when I stepped into the combined kitchen/dining room at last. Only my niece was still a member of the Ember fan club, as evidenced by the refrain of “Kak, kak, kak” she embarked upon while holding out a fistful of chocolate fluff in a sweet yet misguided attempt to share.

  “No thanks, Rosie-Dozey,” I told the child with forced cheer. But before I could pat my favorite munchkin on the head, her grandmother’s cane rose one menacing inch off the floor and my hand snapped back against my side. Uh oh. “I’ve got to head to work,” I explained to the downcast toddler as I changed my trajectory and backed quickly toward the door instead.

  Unfortunately, the Garcia matriarch wasn’t willing to let me escape so easily. “Tell her,” the older woman demanded, the words aimed at her daughter even though her gaze continued to pierce me with arrow-like sharpness. And as a wordless exchange passed between the two adults, I could feel my future solidifying in the air.

  An eviction from the premises, a complete inability to protect my family from danger, total divorce from the niece I’d known for only one short day. “Please,” I started, not sure what I could possibly say to avert such profound disaster...from a werewolf’s point of view at least.

  Harmony opened her mouth to obey her mother’s wishes. But before I could think of a single way to change my hostess’s decision, the younger woman’s teeth came together with a snap and she shook her head instead. “Ember and I can talk tonight,” Harmony told us both after a moment of loaded silence. “I don’t want to make her late for work.”

  The truth was, I had scads of time before I needed to open up shop, even possessed quite a bit of leeway before my appointment with Andrea Greenbriar. But I seized on the offered out like a drowning swimmer who’d been tossed a life line.

  “Yes, right, I’m running late,” I babbled, darting through the waiting doorway and into the hall. I didn’t breathe easily until the heavy wooden barrier had slammed shut behind my back.

  AT WHICH POINT I REALIZED that I lacked a key to the apartment I’d just left behind. If the Garcias failed to let me back in this evening, then I’d be stuck in the city without so much as a single change of clothes. Dad wouldn’t be impressed by my dental hygiene then, now would he?

  In which case I’ll just buy new stuff, I decided. After all, panties and toothpaste were easily replaced. In contrast, the slender thread of possibility that I might still make things right with my sister-in-law trumped all else.

  So, turning away from the door, I double timed it down the hallway and stairs before Harmony could change her mind and call me back for a much-deserved dressing down. Out in the morning air, I breathed in the dampness of a freshly washed city, overnight rain having swept away the scents of too many people and cars. I could smell grass and pollen and flowers for the first time since the Greenbriar hunt, the mild aromas mixing together to encircle me in a haze of welcome.

  The subway was still dirty as ever, though, and my heart rate picked up as I passed through the empty station on the campus end after exiting my northbound train. This was where I’d been attacked yesterday, and the tang of my own terror still hung heavy on the subterranean air.

  Rather than rushing out into the light and making the same mistake a second time, though, I slunk along pitted walls, scanning the open space between me and the exit. One hand slipped into my pants pocket, settling around the hilt of Auntie Fen’s knife, and in response my breathing gradually eased to normal levels once again.

  Only when I felt able to survey my surroundings with the mind of a predator rather than prey did I advance out into the open. My attacker wasn’t present, of course. No matter what they say about perpetrators returning to the scene of the crime, only an idiotic werewolf would linger in the spot where he’d nearly raped a pack princess. Especially when his victim possessed guest rights granted by the local alpha himself.

  In contrast to the dangerous scene I’d been envisioning, in fact, the campus was bright and cheerful beneath the morning sun. I passed two of the previous day’s customers as I skirted the main administrative building, and another waved hello as I used my key to enter the coffee shop. There, I flipped the lock closed behind me and finally relaxed into a round of baking therapy.

  First, I pulled together apple
turnovers for Andrea—might as well sweeten the female up as reparation for my upcoming blackmail. Then, with a smile, I beat together a batch of the super-fluffy cupcakes that were Dad’s favorite. After all, Wolfie deserved a culinary thank-you in exchange for his endless offerings of surprisingly hands-off support.

  While the cupcakes cooled, I created a mailing box out of taped-together take-out trays then penned a quick note for my mother and pack. Without bothering to lock the door behind me, I trotted back across campus the way I’d come and turned into the mail room that sat only a few hundred yards away from the subway station. There, a wall of small metal boxes ended in a counter manned by one very bored human clerk.

  “What can I get you?” the employee asked, his eyes remaining trained on the magazine in his lap. Then, looking up at last, the clerk’s eyes brightened as he recognized me from his visit to my shop the day before. “You’re the cupcake girl! Want to open up a PO box? Faculty, students, and staff all get one free of charge.”

  “That’s nice of you,” I answered, glancing at the clock above the clerk’s head and realizing I was cutting it closer than I’d intended with regard to Andrea’s appointment. “But I’m not sure how long I’ll be in town. I just need to mail this one thing....”

  Luckily, the human required only thirty seconds to calculate postage and accept my payment, then I was trotting back the way I’d come. Past the library, through a little grove of evergreens, then around the bend that hid my shop from view...

  ...At which point I walked directly into the arms of last night’s attacker.

  Chapter 18

  He hesitated before going on the offensive, and that was the only mistake I needed in order to launch my counterattack. Whirling, I yanked a knife out through the slit in my pocket and slashed at the meaty hands reaching for my throat. Red blood arced away from my opponent’s flesh, ruby droplets glinting on the steel of my blade before turning dark as they splattered across the perfectly manicured grass.