by RJ Blain
My mate herded me along, giving my hand an encouraging squeeze.
The living room opened into a large dining room dominated by a table capable of easily seating ten. My mate held out a chair for me, and I slid onto it, staring up at him with wide eyes.
All of his attention was focused on Rob’s mate, and he scowled at her. “Do we have to do this today, Marcy?”
“Yes,” was the curt reply. “We can do it now or I’ll simply nag you all night long until I have my way.”
Once again, my mouth dropped open and I was powerless to stop gawking.
Desmond sat across from me, and to my surprise, Marcy claimed the seat beside me. Smiling at me, she gave my hand a pat. “Don’t look so alarmed, dear.”
“Marcy, please,” my mate begged.
I had no idea what he was trying to make the woman do—or not do—but I could sense his worry and unease.
Desmond nudged my shin under the table, and when I turned my attention to him, he winked at me. “Don’t worry,” he mouthed at me in silence.
“Don’t you ‘Marcy, please’ me, Matthew. It has been how long since you met this angel, and you have not brought her to meet us?”
Rob cleared his throat. “I’ll bring dinner out, Marcy. It wouldn’t do to let your hard work get cold while you scold him.”
Grinning from ear to ear, Vegas’s Alpha retreated; as he pushed through a swinging door, I heard him whistle a merry tune.
“Well, Matthew?” Marcy demanded.
“They met right before the full moon,” Desmond said, his smile warm and affectionate. “She really is lovely, isn’t she?”
“However did you find her, Charles? Surely he wasn’t capable of discovering such a beauty on his own.”
I sucked in a breath, twisting to face my mate.
All he did was groan and flop onto the table, stretching his arms out in Wendy’s direction in a pleading bid for help. “Make them stop, Wendy. Please.”
Wendy arched a brow, huffed, and grinned at Marcy. “He did actually find her all on his own, although you will not approve of his methods—or my mate’s.”
“Strip club, if my ears did not deceive me,” Marcy murmured. “Hell, I was about to start hiring prostitutes.”
“Marcy!” my mate choked out.
“It’s true,” Rob announced, sweeping through the door with two large bowls of salad, which he set on the table. “I was considering letting her, too.”
“Rob!” Sanders covered his head with his arms. “Don’t make me get up and kick—”
When Marcy cleared her throat, my mate whimpered.
My mate didn’t surrender to anyone easily, not even to Desmond. Narrowing my eyes, I considered the woman seated beside me. Who was she to hold so much power over my mate? My wolf roused, and I was aware of her listening through my ears and watching through my eyes. Her lethargy remained, and I stifled a yawn as her weariness bled into me.
“Eat, Sara. Marcy will enjoy having someone who doesn’t view salad as an aberration sharing dinner with her for a change,” Desmond said, sliding one of the salad bowls to me. “Vegetarians”
“Nonsense, Charles. If I ate the same things you Fenerec do, I would have been in the grave years ago. I’m looking forward to a few more years of driving Rob crazy.” Marcy loaded her plate with salad from the other bowl. There was something sad about her smile, and I got the feeling she wanted to say something but decided against it.
It took Rob five trips to bring out the first wave of bowls and dishes. Three pastas accompanied by different sauces, and even at the buffet, I hadn’t seen quite so much meat in one place at a single time. Every time I reached for salad, Sanders slipped a piece of meat or scoop of pasta onto my plate.
“Will you stop that?” I demanded, slapping the back of his hand with my spoon. “I can feed myself.”
“I like feeding you,” he replied, and with an unrepentant grin, he deposited a meatball on my plate. “Let me tell you a secret, Sara.”
“What secret?” I asked suspiciously.
“Never upset an Italian woman. She will prepare a wonderful feast and make certain your least favorite foods are on the table—and expect you to eat your fair share, like it or not.”
I stared at the variety of food scattered across the table, wondering how anyone could possibly dislike any of it. “But it’s delicious. Everything is. How could anyone not like it?”
Marcy smiled. “Thank you, Sara. It’s just a little something I cooked up earlier.”
“Pasta,” my mate complained, poking at his plate with his fork. “This isn’t healthy.”
Wendy laughed. “There are plenty of meatballs, Sanders. Stop whining, it’s rude.”
“If you don’t eat your pasta, you don’t get any of the second course,” Marcy replied, stabbing a meatball and depositing it on my mate’s plate. “Stop feeding Sara your dinner.”
“I’m merely ensuring she eats a sufficient amount.” He returned the meatball to Marcy’s plate after stealing a bite of it. I smiled a bit at the careful way he phrased his reply, aware of his worry he’d force me to do something against my will while I was still drugged with wolfsbane.
I slapped his hand with my spoon again. “Sanders!” I grabbed the assaulted meatball with my fork and set it on my mate’s plate. “You touched it, so you have to eat it. I’m so sorry, Marcy. I have no idea what has gotten into him today. He’s never this rude!”
“He’s always this rude,” Rob informed me with a wink. “If he weren’t, I’d be really worried.”
“Sanders!” I faced my mate. “How could you?”
“You don’t understand,” he spluttered, holding his hands up in surrender. He opened his mouth to say something, and on an impulse, I spun pasta around my fork and shoved it in his mouth.
“Eat or choke,” I growled.
With a resigned sigh, my mate obeyed. “That’s cheating. Why would you—”
I fed him another forkful of pasta. “Isn’t it delicious? It’s delicious, isn’t it?”
“You’re ruthless,” my mate complained, capturing my wrist in his hand. He smiled at me, relieving me of my fork. “A ruthless cheater, that’s what you are.”
“You need to eat, too,” I replied. When I opened my mouth to sing my praises of salad, he forced a piece of meatball into my mouth.
My wolf approved, her hunger for meat strengthening.
“I was right,” Marcy declared, rising from her seat. “You are far better for him than that other woman.”
I blushed, torn between pleasure and horror over the casual way Marcy dismissed the woman Sanders had loved so much. Shaking his head, Sanders fed me another piece of meatball, probably to keep me quiet.
“Bring back some real food, bitch,” my mate called after Marcy.
I choked, and wheezing, I grabbed my glass of water. “Sanders!”
Rob headed into the other room, his eyes twinkling when he grinned. “I think I have to side with my mate on this one. I’ll see if Marcy has even a shred of sympathy for you, Sanders; don’t count on it, though. You know her.”
Wendy and Desmond stared at their plates, and judging from their scents, they were trying very hard to contain their mirth.
There was something I was missing, some little fact eluding me that would explain everything. Who was Marcy, and how did she bring out such a different side of my mate?
It was a side of him I wanted to see more of, playful and aggressive without malice. Fun.
When Marcy and Rob returned, they carried two huge pans of sliced meat. Sitting straighter, my mate watched them with wide eyes.
Judging from the way he swallowed to hide the fact he was drooling at the sight of the food, Marcy had taken mercy on him. I had no idea what type of meat it was, but it smelled incredible.
“Being the gracious hostess I am, I’ll even allow you to have some, Matthew,” Marcy announced. Smiling at my mate, the woman served me, leaving a heaping pile of food on my plate. “Don’t be shy, Sara
. There are several more pans of this in the kitchen. If we run out, I’ll be very surprised.”
I freed my hand, snatched my fork, and found the meat so tender it broke apart when I stabbed it. My eyes widened; the meat was juicy, a little sweet, and a little savory. My wolf’s need for more overwhelmed me, and I lost the ability to focus on anything other than eating as much as my stomach could hold.
If I ate another bite, I would surely explode, but the scraps of meat left in the pan tempted me into reaching for the serving fork. Laughing, my mate shook his head and watched me.
“You’re incredible,” he said.
Determined not to let a single bit of the pork go to waste, I emptied the pan, wondering how I’d make it all fit in my stomach. As always, my wolf was up for the challenge, and taking a deep breath, I went to work.
If the existence of my wolf hadn’t already dealt a lethal blow to my vegetarianism, the pork’s savory sweetness would have finished it off. “No, this is incredible,” I replied between bites.
“I can’t believe we ate it all,” Marcy muttered, drumming her fingers against the table. “I was certain I’d defeat you all. How is this even possible? There were six huge pans of roast, almost as much pasta, and I lost count of the number of loafs of bread you gluttons devoured.”
Desmond grinned. “I warned you Sara has quite the appetite, Marcy. It’s not her fault; she’ll settle down in a few months. Until then, I do not envy Sanders’s job of feeding her.”
Leaning forward so she could smile at my mate, Marcy replied, “It’ll be good for him, having to present himself like a proper man for a change.”
Spluttering, Sanders turned his head.
My wolf was amused at how Marcy cowed him. Determined to hold my own and establish the fact he was mine, I said, “I can assure you from personal experience he is most definitely a proper man.”
Marcy laughed. “Is that a statement on his hunting abilities, his general conduct, or his prowess in bed?”
“All of it. All of him,” I replied in as dignified a tone as I could. Laughing wouldn’t win me any favors with Sanders despite my urge to giggle.
“Try not to blush too much, Matthew. You’ll lose your place as supreme Alpha male,” Marcy said.
Snorting, Rob stood and grabbed the empty pans and stacked them together. “What about me, Marcy? You’re so cruel.”
“Until you wash the dishes, dear, you are not invited to contribute to this conversation.”
“You’re a terrible woman,” Rob complained on his way to the kitchen.
I giggled. “It’s obvious who the true Alpha at this table is. You’ve been outclassed, Sanders.”
“Oh, aren’t you just a little charmer?” Marcy patted my hand. “For that, you shall have as much dessert as you desire. I’m undecided if Matthew gets any.”
“What did I do?” My mate sulked, and the way he pouted intrigued my wolf.
She wanted him for dessert.
“You didn’t bring her to me the instant you found her,” Marcy scolded, picking up her spoon and reaching over to smack the back of Sanders’s hand. “Inexcusable.”
“Now, now, Marcy,” Desmond murmured, and while there was a chiding edge to his tone, it was softened by his smile. “I’m sure he was intending to. Sara wasn’t feeling well with all that’s been going on.”
“What has been going on? Rob has been pacing and muttering to himself for these past three weeks, and all he’ll tell me is that you have been causing trouble again, Matthew.”
I blushed, well aware I was the true cause of the trouble. Too ashamed to confess, I stared at my mate.
He smiled at me, lifting his hand to brush his fingertips across my cheek. Leaning in my direction, he whispered in my ear, “You’re worth every bit of the trouble.”
My mate kissed my cheek before straightening.
“Sara has had a rather bumpy introduction to being a Fenerec,” Desmond said. “Most of the trouble hasn’t been Sanders’s fault, I assure you. That said, he did punch my car today.”
“Your car? You mean that ancient Mercedes he likes so much?” Marcy sighed. “I don’t see what is so appealing about that car, Matthew. It’s a nice Mercedes, but it’s not that nice. Why did you punch Charles’s car?”
“He likes his little lady there more than he likes my car. When she got herself into trouble this morning, he decided to take out his stress on the door. I forgave him. She has absolutely terrible luck, and I likely would have done the same if she were mine.” Desmond sighed, smiling at me. “She’s his little hellcat. You’ll like this, Marcy. She’s the one who brought down Mary’s killer.”
Marcy sucked in a breath. “Truly?”
I squirmed and fidgeted under so much scrutiny from everyone at the table. Returning from the kitchen, Rob set down a towering pyramid of round, chocolate-covered pastries hidden beneath a web of caramelized sugar. “That’s what our pup told me,” he said, and with a grin, he liberated one of the puffs from the pyramid and set it in front of me. “For a job well done, Miss Sara. Please refrain from being kidnapped in the future. It’s bad for my digestion.”
“Kidnapped?” Marcy’s voice rose an octave. “Robert, you did not tell me she had been kidnapped.”
“Yes, by Mary’s killer. All we know is that he was working with a witch and they had captured a few unmated, rogue Fenerec. The flood last week was part of the mess.”
Grabbing a pastry, Marcy nibbled on it, her gaze fixed on her mate. Following the woman’s example, I picked up mine. At a loss of what to say, I once again turned to Sanders.
“And by her boss this morning,” my mate added. Taking two of the pastries, he left one on my plate and kept the other for himself. “My next move is to find out who wants my mate and why. Once I find them…”
The promise of violence in my mate’s tone sent shivers down my spine. The predator within him stared at me through his amber eyes. I held my breath.
“I heard there was an issue this morning, but Rob neglected to mention it was a kidnapping.” Marcy frowned. “You told me she had been poisoned with wolfsbane during the scuffle, not that someone had tried to steal her!”
“An oversight on my part,” Rob muttered. The way Vegas’s Alpha refused to meet his mate’s gaze roused my suspicion.
“An oversight, is it? Much like the one where no one thought I might be interested in knowing my brother had finally found a worthy woman?” Rising to her feet, she snatched another puff, taking a bite of it. The way she glared at her mate promised hell to pay. While she lacked a Fenerec’s edge, her growling unsettled my wolf, who wanted nothing more than to make a retreat.
Then what she had said hit me, and my mouth hung open. “Brother?”
Marcy turned on Sanders. “Yes, this scruffy scoundrel is my brother, and he will pay for his crimes.” Snatching a serving spoon from one of the pasta bowls, she hefted it up and took one step forward.
My mate ran for the living room with his sister in pursuit.
“That explains a lot. She isn’t going to kill him, is she?” I contemplated getting up and saving my mate.
Rob laughed. “I think he’ll live. Welcome to the family.”
I learned two important things while Marcy chased Sanders so she could beat him with her spoon. First, the woman was absolutely vicious and easily the match of a Fenerec.
Second, my mate was a cunning beast, offering his sister the illusion of prowess and victory by purposefully gifting her with chances to catch him. My wolf enjoyed every moment of the hunt.
“Marcy’s younger than him by ten years,” Rob informed me from where he was stretched out on the couch. I sat on one of the two armchairs, watching Marcy pursue my mate in circles around the living room. “I made the mistake of going to Seattle to ask a favor when she was visiting him.”
“Mistake?” Marcy demanded, turning to her mate. Lifting her spoon up, she narrowed her eyes. “You want a turn with the spoon, don’t you?”
“Yes, please,” Ro
b replied, smiling at her.
“Jerk,” the woman muttered, and with a sigh and shake of her head, she resumed stalking my mate.
“What happened?” I demanded.
“She took one look at me, turned to her brother, and demanded he give me to her. Sanders thought it was hilarious and informed her if she could catch me, she could have me. I considered blaming him for the outcome, but she was armed with a knife and wasn’t afraid to use it. I had to take her to save Sanders’s life. You should be grateful, Sara. Because of me, he’s still alive today.”
Marcy threw the spoon at her mate’s head. With a faint smile, Rob snatched it out of the air to set it on the coffee table. “I count myself fortunate I have survived my mate’s tender mercies thus far.”
“I admit taking Sanders to see his sister did factor into why we came to Vegas,” Desmond said, grinning at me. “I figured if we couldn’t find a pretty lady to turn his head on the strip, Marcy could straighten him out and play matchmaker.”
“I so wanted to play matchmaker,” Marcy complained, stomping her foot. “I demand an entire accounting, Matthew. From the beginning.”
I stifled a yawn, and Sanders changed directions, grabbed the blanket draped over the couch, and spread it over me. “This might take a while. Why don’t you go get some sleep, Sara?”
Shaking my head, I tucked my feet under me and smiled up at him. “I’m okay.”
Sanders perched on the arm of my chair, sighed, and told them everything that had happened, leaving nothing out. When Rob and Marcy learned the circumstances of my becoming a Fenerec, both frowned. When Sanders worked his way to explaining the situation with the sorcerer, I growled at what Kent had wanted to do to my mate.
Sanders bumped his fist against the top of my head. “She’s got a bit of a temper,” he explained, softening his rebuke with a smile. “Settle down, my vicious little hellcat. This is a prey-free household. When you get too growly, you start sinking your teeth into me.”
“You’re entertaining prey. I don’t see how this is a problem,” I replied.
