by RJ Blain
With his scent sweetening from his pleasure and amusement, my mate propped his elbow on the top of Nicolina’s head. “You’re still perfect armrest height, girl. Haven’t figured out a way to add inches yet?”
She stomped her foot, ducking out from beneath his arm. “Jerk.”
“You make it so easy,” he replied. “Sorry for dragging you all the way down from Yellowknife. Where you two are, surely Alex is not far behind?”
Richard chuckled. “Alex is holding down the fort. Frank, however, is flopped on the couch downstairs. He’s not talking to me because I hit you with Desmond’s SUV.”
“I’m not talking to you because you hit him with my SUV,” Desmond growled. “You busted out a headlight and crunched my radiator. Can’t you limit your destruction of vehicles to your own? I’m still amazed you managed to get it back to the lodge before it went into its final death throes. I like that SUV.”
“I was not driving,” Nicolina stated, sniffling.
Confused, I tugged on my mate. “What are they talking about?”
Laughing, my mate turned in my arms, tilted my chin up, and kissed me. “Nicolina crashes things. So far, she’s totaled three Porsches, several snowmobiles, a plane—”
“The plane was not my fault!”
“—two bicycles, a truck, a motorcycle, a helicopter, and don’t ask me how she did it, but she wrecked a boat on dry land. I’m amazed you let her drive anything at all, Richard.”
“She just needs to be near the vehicle. I’m still working out a way to stop her from going anywhere near moving objects. It’s a challenge.”
“Don’t give her new Porsches to crash,” Desmond suggested.
“She’d just buy her own. Perhaps I enjoy how pretty she is when I give her the keys to her very own death trap.” Smiling at his mate, Richard got to his feet. “I like her just as she is. I’m not giving her back, sorry.”
“Mutt.” While Desmond’s tone was gruff, amusement laced his scent. “You still crashed my SUV with my daughter in it. Prepare yourself, Puppy.”
“No beating my mate, Father,” Nicolina grumbled. “Leave him alone. I don’t want to have to patch Sanders’s walls because you need put in your place again.”
“Please limit the gunfire to your own homes. Is there a reason you all are camped out on the stairs?” Sanders asked, freeing himself from my hold to head downstairs. “There’s an entire sitting room downstairs. And don’t feed me any crap about Frank being asleep on the couch. He’s probably on the couch to avoid your bickering. Frank!”
“Hey, Sanders,” a man called out from somewhere downstairs. “They haven’t killed you yet?”
“I’m sure it’s an oversight, Frank,” my mate quipped, disappearing from sight.
I leaned over the banister in my effort to figure out where Sanders had gone. “Who’s Frank?”
“My Third,” Richard explained. “After the number of times Sanders has bailed me out, Frank was determined to come along and help pay back the favor.”
“Maybe if you’d stop getting into trouble, Sanders wouldn’t have to come bail you out all the time,” Desmond grumbled.
I frowned. “I thought you said—”
Lunging to his feet, Desmond clamped his hand to my mouth. “Please don’t finish that sentence, dear.”
Both Nicolina and Richard narrowed their eyes. With her brown eyes brightening to a fire-bright amber, Nicolina asked, “What have you been telling her, Father?”
“Nothing, absolutely nothing,” he lied.
Maybe my mate didn’t grill in the winter, but Desmond did. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, watching him from the back door. The scent of salmon teased my nose, woke my wolf, and sent us into a salivating frenzy.
“You’re going to freeze yourself and everyone in the lodge if you keep the door open like that,” he chided, lowering the grill’s lid to stare at me with an arched brow. “If you’re going to hover, at least put on a coat and some shoes. You’re acting like you’ve never watched someone grill fish before.”
I hadn’t, but I kept my mouth shut, hopping from the step to the patio, which was covered in several inches of snow. Closing the door behind me, I breathed in deep. The tang of lemon and savory spices lured me closer to the grill.
“I’m not going to steal the fish I’m grilling specifically for you, Sara. You don’t have to stand guard over them.”
I ignored him, leaning forward to get a peek at the grill. Sighing, Desmond lifted the lid. “There, see? All for you. Please go back inside where it’s not freezing.”
Three salmon, still in their skins, stretched across the grill’s surface. Sprigs of rosemary, blackened from exposure to the heat, were the source of the mouthwatering, savory aroma.
My mate poked his head out the back door. “Sara, what are you doing?”
“She’s acting like I’m going to steal her fish,” Desmond complained. “Can’t you keep her contained for the five minutes it will take for me to finish out here?”
Unlike me, Sanders was wearing shoes, and he came towards the grill.
I whirled to face my mate, baring my teeth at him. “Away from my fish, thief!”
Desmond laughed. “Stole from you out in the wild, did he?”
“Deer thief,” I growled. “I killed it. He stole it. Thief.”
“So now you’re going to defend your salmon to the death,” Desmond stated, shaking his head. “Your death, if you keep standing out in the cold wearing nothing more than a thin t-shirt and a pair of your mate’s boxers.”
“I don’t want your fish, Sara,” my mate said, laughter in his voice. He turned to me, grabbed my wrist, and pulled me to him. “Come inside and leave Desmond alone so he can grill in peace.”
I opened my mouth to refuse, but my mate snapped his teeth at my neck. Hopping back, I dodged, my eyes widening at his aggression. Sanders’s eyes blazed bright yellow, and I scrambled towards the door.
When Desmond cleared his throat, the sound startled me into staring at him. My mate took advantage of my distraction, biting my neck. I yelped, lightning jolting down my spine. My legs buckled beneath me, and Sanders caught me as I fell, tossing me over his shoulder.
“I shall keep her amused inside,” he said, carrying me into the house. I reached out to the grill, whining at being separated from my lunch. “You’ll be reunited with your fish soon enough. Dustin just arrived, and I want him to look you over before you get distracted by your gross fish.”
“Salmon is not gross!” I balled my hands into fists and pounded his back, careful not to hurt him. “Salmon is delicious.”
“So long as you don’t choke on it, you can have as much salmon as you want,” he promised.
Dustin was waiting in the kitchen, shaking his head while my mate deposited me on a chair. “At the rate you two are going, I’m going to have an ulcer before I’m thirty. While I was sincere in what I told you, Princess, I did not mean for you to bank time as a wolf. It doesn’t work that way. At least you had the good sense to avoid being drugged, unlike Stud Muffin here.”
My mate huffed, sitting beside me. “Fucker got me by surprise.”
“I would have been surprised, too. No shame in that. I wouldn’t have expected my driver and bodyguard to turn around and shoot me. Too bad he’s dead, because there’s a pretty long line of people wanting to find any other traitors and rid the Earth of them.”
“There was a second car,” I said.
“So the rumor mill has said,” the witch replied. “Let’s have a look at the pair of you, shall we? I’ll start with you, Stud Muffin.”
Sanders growled. “Not necessary.”
“I’m taking my orders from the Shadow Pope, Uncle. If he says have a look, I’m having a look. It’ll be a lot easier of a look if I don’t have to coerce Desmond into helping.”
I blinked, pointing at Dustin. “Did you just say Uncle?”
“To my mother’s endless anguish, I’m certain.”
“You’re Marcy’s so
n? With Rob?” I stared at him, and sure enough, when I looked for it, I found resemblances to both Marcy and Rob. “That’s crazy.”
“It really cramps my style, that’s what it does. Now, are you going to let me take a look, or will I have to call Desmond in? Damn it, forget them; my parents are going to murder me if I don’t report to them with good news. Forget the Shadow Pope and the overbearing Alpha grilling in the snow. Mom’s the real threat. She’s ready to come kill you herself, Uncle. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
For a long moment, I thought my mate was going to refuse, but he surrendered with a nod and a sigh.
Dustin pulled up a chair and took hold of my mate’s wrist. “You’d figure they’d learn I’m not a doctor—at least, not a real one. Sure, I can sense things with my witchcraft, but what good is that if I can’t fix what I can see? I usually can’t,” he groused. “Holly says I should go to medical school. I’m supposed to be a forensics investigator.”
“Does being a witch help you with your investigating?” I asked.
“Sure. I can pick up a lot of things others can’t. Proving them in court is a bear, but I can tell at a glance what sort of fluid I’m looking at; everything has a different feel to it. I’ve got a good memory for that sort of thing, which helps. Princess, make sure your Stud Muffin eats and drinks more; I’m pretty sure he’s down at least twenty pounds since I last saw him.”
“Not my fish,” I snarled.
“I’m not going to eat your fish!”
“You ate my deer,” I reminded him, narrowing my eyes. “Before it was offered to you.”
“I sense a territory dispute,” Dustin said, releasing my mate and scooting his chair closer to me. I held out my arm in his direction without turning my glare away from Sanders. “It’ll take a bit longer for you, Princess. Women are a bit more complicated than dull-witted studs. Males are useful and serve certain purposes, but they’re simple enough beasts.”
“Keep yapping, Dustin,” my mate growled.
“Oh, I will. You wouldn’t do shit to me and you know it. The first good news, you’re in better shape than he is. Beefcake can afford to lose some muscle. He’ll gain it back given a couple of weeks, and unlike the rest of us, he won’t even have to work too hard at it.”
My mate’s growl had a sharp edge to it, and pulling my hand free from Dustin’s grip, I flicked Sanders until he quieted. “No intimidating your nephew, even if it is a little creepy he’s nicknamed you Stud Muffin.”
“The puppy, Dustin,” Sanders snarled. “What about the puppy?”
“Your puppy’s just fine, Uncle. I’m taking it seriously. Relax. She has at least another week or two before there’s any risk. If you want any more information than that, well, I can’t help you. I can tell you there’s only one, though. I can’t tell you much more than that, and what I can find out isn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things, so I’m not going to bother. You should know the routine by now. Feed her well, feed her often, don’t let her transform, and make sure she gets enough sleep. I’m expecting a healthy cousin. You can name him or her after me.”
Making a happy, contented noise, Sanders grabbed my chair and pulled me closer to him, nuzzling my neck. “Puppy,” he murmured before kissing me.
“Someone’s happy,” Desmond said, stomping the snow off his boots as he came into the kitchen, carrying a large platter. The sight of the salmon made my mouth water. “Make that two someones. You really want this fish, don’t you, Sara?”
“Don’t even bother getting a proper plate. Just give it to her like that before she eats us,” my mate teased.
“I take it the rumors of a puppy are true? Is the little one okay, Dustin?”
Smiling, Dustin patted my shoulder, stood, and returned his chair to its proper place. “No problems I can tell, sir. Uncle’s lost weight and is a bit malnourished, but nothing a few good meals won’t fix. He’s lost a lot of muscle, but give him a couple of weeks and he’ll recover. I would advise against restoring the pack to him until he’s had a chance to get fit again unless you want every wannabe dominant making a run at him. It’d be fun to watch, knowing he’s going to be ultra protective for the next eight or so months. Anyway, I came, I saw, I conquered, and now, I’m going to head to the airport and catch my flight back to Vegas. If you need me, give me a call.”
“Thanks for coming out,” Desmond replied with a smile of his own.
“I’d say any time, but let’s limit it to once a month. You two have caused me enough trouble for at least several years.” Waving a farewell, Dustin left.
“Once you’ve eaten, Sara, I’m taking you both to my house. No complaining, Sanders. You’ll share one of the guest rooms, and you’ll like it. The pack has been frantic all month. Granted, they’re scattered all over the continent looking for you, and most of them won’t be able to get back to Seattle for another day or two, but that’s a different matter entirely. You can help me make the phone calls.”
My mate groaned. “Are you serious?”
“On all counts. Nicolina quite literally cleaned out the freezer and pantry last night; Amber and Frank offered to restock and ran off with one of my credit cards to do it. Richard’s stolen my daughter again; they’re taking my SUV to the garage to see if it’s a complete write-off or not.”
Narrowing his eyes, my mate watched Desmond. “You’re worried about someone coming after us again.”
“I told you he’d figure it out fast,” Frank said from the doorway leading into the sitting room. “Yes, we are. Whoever tried to grab you in New York had it really well planned, and they wanted both of you. Those darts are nasty business, in case you were curious. They’ll kill humans and witches outright. It’s fast acting—faster than anything we’ve seen in ages, and its more effective than Ketamine and wolfsbane at knocking a Fenerec down for a while. Do you remember how long you were out, Sanders? In case you haven’t guessed from my appearance, restocking mission is accomplished, and there’s a lot to put away.”
Shaking his head, my mate sighed. “I hardly remember anything, Frank. Sorry.”
“How about you, Sara?”
“I remember, but I don’t know how long he was out. His phone died so I couldn’t check the time, and when I changed to a wolf, I stopped caring,” I admitted, my face flushing. “I ended up napping, and when I woke up, he was a grouchy wolf.”
“I wouldn’t wish a drugged, grumpy Sanders on anyone,” Richard’s Third replied. “You’re a sneaky son of a bitch, Sanders. Never, ever go rogue—ever. I don’t think we’d stand a chance in hell of catching you. It was pure dumb luck they managed to track you at the Mississippi. We wouldn’t have caught you if you hadn’t darted out in front of Desmond’s SUV. Why did you do that, anyway?”
My mate’s face turned red, and he didn’t say a word.
Desmond frowned.
Watching the three men, I tore into my salmon with my fingers, nibbling on the flaking meat. I took care with the bones, setting them in a neat pile to the side.
Frank’s eyes widened. “You thought the car was prey, didn’t you?”
I sucked in a breath and inhaled a piece of fish. Choking and laughing, I thumped my chest to help dislodge the piece of fish. “He did no such thing.”
My mate spluttered, huffed, and ignored the other Fenerec.
When I was certain I wasn’t going to cough and inhale more of my salmon, I resumed eating, watching my mate out of the corner of my eye. “You didn’t, did you?”
“It was late, I was tired, and it startled me,” my mate grumbled. “I did not think it was prey.”
Frank snickered. “You attacked Desmond’s SUV.”
Groaning, Desmond slumped across the table, covering his head with his arms. “I’ll forgive you this once, Sanders, but only because you were mostly wild, didn’t know better, and were trying to hunt for your mate. But only this once.”
“I’ll pay for the repairs,” my mate mumbled.
“No, you won’t. That’s fi
nal. Us three males are going to go into the other room and let Sara eat in peace so she doesn’t have to worry about us thieving her lunch. Sanders, we’ll make you something when we’re home.”
While my mate obediently stood, he bent down, nipped my fingers, and stole the piece of fish I was holding. Whistling merrily, he made his escape.
Chapter Twenty-Six
During the month I ran wild with Sanders, I had been aware of our puppy as more of an afterthought than a reality. I came to the conclusion wolves were simply better equipped to handle carrying puppies than humans.
As a wolf, meat went down easily and stayed where it belonged. As a human, my stomach wanted nothing to do with what I ate. While I was eating, my stomach cooperated, tricking me.
Hell began about twenty minutes after I finished my lunch. Determined not to waste three glorious salmon, I fought my growing nausea. The thought of riding in a car was enough to make me want to throw up. The drive was worse, and it took every last bit of my willpower to control my stomach.
I resorted to leaning on my mate, burying my nose against his shirt, and breathing in his scent. He wrapped his arm around me, drawing circles on me with his fingertips.
An hour after leaving the lodge, we reached a three-storied house surrounded by forest. A carefully manicured front lawn was hedged by thorny bushes while rose vines climbed up trellises flanking the front doors.
“Roses are Richard’s conceit,” Sanders informed me before sliding out of the car. I sighed, swallowed several times to control my stomach, and got out. Joining me, my mate slipped his arm around my waist, ducking his head to nuzzle my throat. “These roses have quite the story behind them, to say the least.”
“They sure do,” Wendy agreed, leaning against the car to stare at the front door. She pointed to the trellises. “Many of them are eight years old. Richard planted them one weekend when we were in Florida. There were some flowers there neither one of us were overly fond of but were too lazy to remove. When we came home, the trellises were installed. We found a single rose vine, carefully caged so nothing would get at it. Every time we’d go anywhere for more than a day or two, the sneaky rat would come over and plant another rose. He even coerced the alarm company to cut the video feeds of the front yard so we couldn’t tell who had done it. Within six months, the whole front bed was done as well as part of the hedge.”
