He gives me a small nod and steps back – his hand though, I notice never leaves the hilt of his blade. Turning back around, I glare at Umak, stepping forward until I'm inches from his face.
“Are you going to use that?” I ask, glancing down at his dagger. “Or keep standing there like an idiot with a knife in your hand? Just know, if you opt to use it, there will be consequences.”
The Packmasters around him chuckle and whisper amongst themselves. I can't let him get out of this without losing face. Umak needs to be humbled. And he sure as hell should never be the sole Packmaster in this area. He probably shouldn't be a Packmaster at all – but, that's not for me to decide.
Umak glances around, glaring at the others, before sheathing his dagger and dropping back down into his seat without another word. He fixes me with a glare that promises retribution for my disloyalty and for embarrassing him. But, I don't really care. We've got bigger problems to deal with.
“How do we know it's not them,” said another Packmaster named Glen as he points to the bears, “behind all of this.”
Asher leans forward in his seat and finally speaks. “I think the fact that we're sitting here should be proof enough that we're concerned about this,” he says. “And that we want to avoid conflict with the wolves.”
“This is a serious threat,” Mariana says. “To all of us. You don't really think I'd be here with you if I had a choice, do you?”
“Mariana, enough,” Asher says, giving her an icy look.
“Sounds like a bunch of horseshit to me,” Umak says.
I turn to him and point to the pictures scattered on the floor. “Do those look like horseshit to you?”
He shrugs, but the Packmasters mutter amongst themselves – and I can tell they're nervous, but are leaning more toward siding with Umak anyway.
“We can't trust 'em,” Evan said, pointing to the bears.
“Fine,” I snap. “But you know you can trust me. And if I –”
“Thought we could,” Umak says coldly. “Now? I dunno anymore.”
The heat flares in my cheeks and that dark rage bubbles up inside of me again. Never has my loyalty been questioned – and to have Umak, of all people, questioning me now, fills me with a depth of hurt and anger I never knew myself capable of.
“Come on, fellas,” Umak says as he stands up. “Let's leave 'em to their fairy tales and made up monsters.”
I watch in stunned disbelief as Umak leads the other Packmasters out. Evan though, hesitates at the doorway. He looks back at the other Packmasters nervously and then directly at me. His eyes are serious, his expression grim.
“I know we can trust you, Neesa,” he says. “You need anything – anything at all – you call me.”
I nod as he turns and leaves the Peace House, closing the door softly behind him. The rush of emotion inside of me is as overpowering as it is confusing. Umak and I have had our share of scrapes and it seems like these days, we butt heads more often than not – but he's never accused me of disloyalty. And he's never turned his back on me. I feel like something inside of me broke. Shattered into a million little pieces.
The bitch of it is that I don't know what it is that's broken exactly.
“You okay?”
I turn to see Jackson looking back at me, the light of compassion in his eyes. I clear my throat and nod.
“Of course I am,” I say. “Why wouldn't I be?”
He shrugs. “Just checking.”
I stand beside him as we face the Clan Chiefs. They share an uneasy look amongst themselves – which doesn't do a damn thing to make me feel any better.
“Well, that didn't go as well as I'd hoped,” Asher says.
“Stop looking at me Luca, it's not my fault,” Mariana says. “They walked in here with an attitude.”
“One you didn't help smooth over any,” she replies.
“Whatever,” she snaps. “It's not like they were going to help us anyway.”
“No, they weren't,” I say.
The Chiefs all turn and look at me and I feel my cheeks coloring once more. I'm not a woman who's afraid to speak my mind. Nor am I nervous speaking in front of people. But for the first time in my life, I feel – uncertain. To have Umak do what he did – it makes me feel like I've been cast aside. Like I'm alone. Adrift. Like I have no real direction anymore.
Umak turned his back on me. Called me disloyal. All I can assume now, is that I'm going to be cast out of my pack. Despite that though, I will not turn my back on the rest of the wolves out there. I won't sit on my ass and leave them to be slaughtered. That's not who I am. That's not who I'm ever going to be.
“What do you mean?” Asher asks.
I sigh. “Umak would never allow it,” I say. “It would make him look weak to agree to let you help. And if there's one thing Umak will never abide, it's looking weak.”
“Which, explains the reaction he had to you,” Luca says.
I nod. “Exactly.”
“Which leaves us with the question – what are we going to do about this?” Asher chimes in. “I'm convinced the threat is real. I think we all are.”
All around, everybody's head is nodding.
“We handle it ourselves,” Jackson says. “If the wolves won't help, so be it. We'll do it on our own.”
“Not like we have a lot of choice in the matter,” Mariana says. “But I appreciate your enthusiasm, Jackson. I don't suppose you'd like to –”
“Okay,” Luca says, cutting her off. “We handle it on our own. I move that Jackson and Neesa be granted the powers of Pla'qitay.”
I look to Jackson who seems to sigh – as if a heavy burden has been placed on his shoulders and it's the last thing he wants. But he looks at me and seems to bury those emotions deep inside of him when he sees the questions in my eyes.
“I'll explain later,” he says.
Mariana smirks at him. “We're going a bit old school, aren't we?”
He shrugs. “Seems like the situation calls for it,” he replies.
“Fine, seconded,” Mariana says. “Now, can I go? I have a date –”
“For the sake of expediency, so Mariana can go get laid,” Asher says, a wide grin on his face, “Neesa and Jackson are granted the powers of Pla'qitay. We're done here.”
“Excellent,” Mariana chirps, hopping to her feet and dashing out the door.
“Is she always like that?” I ask.
“Most of the time, yeah,” Jackson replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Luca approaches us. “You two seem to make quite a team.”
Jackson and I exchange a look and chuckle to ourselves. Luca seems to be a little overly optimistic about this newfound alliance – a temporary alliance at that.
“You two have the authority to do what needs to be done,” he says. “Find this threat and end it.”
Jackson nods. “We will.”
Luca stands there for another moment, looking from me to Jackson and then back again. His gaze lingers a little longer on Jackson, an inscrutable expression on his face – almost as if he's trying to convey something. What it is, I have no clue.
“I know you will,” he finally says. “I have every confidence in the both of you.”
Chapter Ten
Jackson
“That could have gone better,” I say.
Neesa chuckles ruefully. “You think?”
We're sitting in a booth at the Silver Salmon, deciding that having a beer or two to take the edge off after the meeting at the Peace House would be a good idea. I wish I'd thought about it, but the moment I walked in with Neesa, I saw Josie's face – and she looked devastated. And even as we sat in the booth – with me sitting on the opposite side of the table, as far away from Neesa as physically possible – I still feel Josie's eyes on me. And whenever I look up and catch her looking over at us, I see the hurt in them and it makes me feel like an asshole all over again.
And this is why I'm single. Emotions are complicated. Relationships are even
worse. I take a long pull of my beer and lower my gaze to the tabletop, trying to avoid Josie's eyes. I have nothing to feel guilty about – and yet, I do, all the same.
“So, what's our plan?” Neesa asks.
“I figure tomorrow, we'll head over to the ME's office,” I say. “See if Dr. Floyd has any new information for us.”
“And after that?”
My grin is rueful. “Yeah, I haven't exactly thought that far ahead yet.”
She looks at me and I see something in her eyes. It looks like she's debating with something inside of herself. Or trying to come to some sort of a decision.
“What is it?” I ask.
Neesa gives me a look and then lowers her eyes. “I need to tell you something.”
I sit back and take another drink of my beer, content to let her tell her story, her way. After draining half her bottle, she sets it down and, seemingly fortified by her beer, looks at me, and launches into her story. She tells me about her fight with Umak after we'd doled out punishment at the Peace House the last time. She told me about her run through the forest and about being chased by – whatever had chased her.
As her story unfolds, I can't seem to get the image of her running naked through the forest out of my head. I look at her – dressed in black jeans, black turtleneck, and black leather jacket – and find myself wondering what she looks like beneath those clothes. I'm so badly distracted that I am having a hard time concentrating on what she's saying – even though, I know it's important.
Twenty minutes later, she finishes speaking and finishes what's left of her beer. She turns and signals to Josie for a couple more. When Neesa turns back to me, I see that Josie is casting a baleful look at her – then turns it on me. I look away and find Neesa staring at me expectantly.
“So? What do you think?” she asks.
“I – I'm not sure,” I stammer as I try to collect myself – and remember what she told me.
“Do you think the two things are connected?” she asks. “The deaths and those – creatures?”
Right. Now, I remember. What she told me all snaps into place and I clear my throat, trying to give her my best thoughtful expression. The whole time though, I'm kicking myself hard. I can't believe my mind is wandering the way it is. Can't believe my mind continues to pull me back toward thinking about what she looks like naked. What am I, a fifteen-year-old hormone-riddled boy now?
I clear my throat again. “I – I think they could be, yeah,” I say. “Connected, I mean. Did you get a look at these – things?”
She shakes her head. “No, it was dark and the forest was pretty thick,” she said. “And I wasn't exactly going to stop and ask them to take a selfie with me.”
Josie swings by the table and sets our bottles of beer down on the table – a little harder than was necessary. She cuts me a quick look that's filled with nothing but hurt and anger before turning and heading back to the bar without a word.
“Wow,” Neesa says. “Is it me or did the temperature just drop twenty degrees in here?”
“Felt more like thirty or forty to me.”
She nods. “Old girlfriend?”
I chuckle and shake my head. “No. Not exactly.”
“Not exactly?”
I look up and cut a quick glance at Josie – who in that moment is studiously ignoring me. “I know she likes me,” I say. “But I won't date her.”
“Why not?”
I take a drink of my beer and set the bottle back down. “It's just not a good match,” I say. “We wouldn't be good together.”
Neesa chuckles. “She obviously thinks so,” she says. “That girl is so in love with you, I can smell it from here.”
“Yeah well, I'm doing what's in her best interest by not dating her.”
Neesa takes a long drink of her beer, eyeballing me the whole time. There's an inscrutable expression on her face that I can't interpret.
“What?” I say.
She shrugs. “You always try to do what you think is in a person's best interest like that?”
“When I know something is going to hurt a person, yeah,” I say. “I know you think otherwise, but I'm not an asshole. I know for fact that things with Josie and I would eventually go south and she'd end up getting hurt. I like her and respect her too much to pretend it wouldn't play out like that.”
“She's a big girl,” Neesa says. “She can make her own decisions and maybe doesn't need you protecting her. Ever think of it that way?”
“And I can make my own decisions as well,” I say, suddenly feeling inexplicably defensive. “I'm just not into her like she's into me. I know it would be fun for a while, but eventually, that fun would fade. I just don't feel that – spark – when I look at Josie. Beautiful girl. Intelligent. Passionate. But we just don't have that kind of chemistry. At least, I don't feel it.”
Neesa nods. “Huh,” she says. “Interesting.”
“What?”
She shrugs. “I don't know,” she says. “I just – I just thought you'd be different, that's all.”
“Different than what?”
She laughs and shakes her head, avoiding my eyes the whole time. “I don't know,” she says. “Just – different.”
“I'm not sure how to take that,” I say and chuckle. “But, if you'll excuse me for a minute.”
I get up and head to the bathroom, still trying to get my head back on straight. I know where Neesa stands, but there's something about her I find intoxicating. Compelling. And undeniably sexy. But like she said before, I'd be barking up the wrong tree.
Stepping into the bathroom, I stare at myself in the mirror for a long moment. The truth is, I needed to get away from the table for a few minutes to relieve the hard-on that's raging in my pants – as well as to get away from the withering glares Josie keeps shooting my way. If I'd thought about it at all, I would have taken Neesa somewhere else for drinks. At least then, I'd only have my blue balls to deal with.
I turn on the sink and splash cold water all over my face. I repeat the process over and over again until I manage to gather myself. Finally back in control, I dry off my face and hands and then step out of the bathroom.
When I get back to the table, I find that Neesa is still sitting there, a bemused look on her face – but is surrounded by half a dozen large, burly men. Most of them are Umpa'qa, but there are a couple of Langayan mixed in as well.
“There a problem here, gentlemen?” I ask, stepping up behind them.
The bears all turn to me, their faces tight with anger. The tension in the air is palpable and none of the men standing in front of me look the least bit amused.
“You bring her in here?” Tony – apparently, the spokesman for the group – asks.
“Last I checked, this is a public establishment,” I reply. “Her money is as good as anybody's.”
“She's a goddamn wolf, Jackson,” Tony sneers. “You a wolf-lover now?”
I look into the eyes of every man standing there. They're all filled with hostility, but I can also see uncertainty. Turning my attention back to Tony, I look him in the eye and hold his gaze. The stench of beer and cigarettes wafting off of him is almost overpowering.
“I suggest you go home and sleep this off, Tony,” I say. “You don't want to do something you'll come to regret. None of you do.”
I cut a quick look at Neesa, who still seems amused by the spectacle in front of her. Tony turns to her and his face grows even darker with anger.
“We don't want her kind in here,” he says. “This is our place.”
The men standing with him nod and mutter their encouragement – none of them having the balls to speak for themselves, apparently. He and his friends are really starting to piss me off.
“Go home, Tony,” I say, my tone cold.
“Or what?” Tony spits. “I'm not afraid of –”
I don't even let him finish before I grab him by the arm, twisting it backward awkwardly. Forcing him down to his knees, I quickly pull a small silver spike from a
case on my belt and drive it into his shoulder. As he screams in pain, I unsheathe my dagger and hold it to his throat. Tony is spitting and cursing and I know he wants to shift – but the silver spike I stuck in him won't let him.
The bar falls silent and all eyes turn to us as the men standing with him take a step toward me, their eyes narrowed, growls escaping their throats. I press the knife a little more firmly against Tony's throat and stare at them. I see a flash of movement from the corner of my eye and then Neesa is there, long, curved daggers in her hands, the points of them pressed against the chests of the two men closest to her.
“Now, boys,” she purrs, “let's not do anything rash.”
To pull that in a bar full of bears takes some serious guts – I've got to give her that.
“You all need to back off,” I say. “Right. Now.”
The men all share a look and then look down at Tony. He's still grimacing in pain and cursing underneath his breath. He nods to them reluctantly and the men all take a step back, the rage on their faces plainer than day. I push Tony away from me, letting him fall face-first onto the floor of the bar. He jumps to his feet and looks at me, his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.
“You're a goddamn traitor to your kind,” he says, pointing a thick finger at me. “You and this wolf bitch are gonna get what's comin' to you.”
I chuckle and shake my head. “Are you really threatening the Moq'apo of your Clan?”
“Maybe I am,” he spits.
I close the distance between us before he can react and put the blade of my dagger against this throat again. With my other hand, I press down on the spike I buried in his shoulder, driving it further into his flesh. He screams in agony, squeezing his eyes shut and gritting his teeth so hard, I fear he might shatter them.
“Because, if you are threatening me,” I say. “That presents a threat to our Chief -- which gives me grounds to execute you here and now. So, let me ask you again, Tony – are you threatening me?”
Grimacing in pain and doing his best to keep from crying out again, he shakes his head.
“You sure?” I ask. “I'd hate for there to be any more misunderstandings.”
“I – I'm sure,” he growls. “I'm sure.”
Mated to a Bear (Legends of Black Salmon Falls Book 3) Page 7
