Chapter 8
Eva
She’d never admit it, but the moment her father pulled her from John’s arms, she felt the instant loss, as if someone had torn a limb from her that she’d been unaware was there before.
“I can walk, Dad,” she complained. “Put me down.”
He obeyed but kept an arm around her shoulder, her brother close on the other side. She’d been such an idiot to think they were drifting apart. Here they both were, frantic and by her side, fussing as if she was going to die from the few grazes on her skin.
“Seriously, guys, back off. I was upset. I got turned around and figured if I stayed put, someone would find me eventually, but I’m okay now.”
“We do need to talk though, honey.” Her dad glanced behind them at John’s looming form. His eyes were a stunning yellowly gold. They reminded her of the color of her mother’s hair—her hair.
“I know, Dad, but in the morning, okay. I’m tired and cold, and I just want to curl up into bed and sleep.”
“I can bunk in your room if you want, Ev? It will be like old times,” Zackary suggested.
Eva eyed John again, as did her brother; she was sure she’d heard him growl.
“I’ll be right back,” John mumbled, veering off in another direction.
Eva met her brother’s line of sight. “Did he just growl?”
Zackary laughed. “Sure did. I have never seen him lose his cool, like… ever.” His gaze turned serious. “Maybe I need to have a word with him.”
“Oh no, you don’t.” Eva gasped, grabbing his arm. “He’ll make mincemeat of you.”
Their father looked between them. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing, just wolf things,” Eva replied.
“Brother things more like. I don’t care if he can kick my ass or not. You’re my sister, Ev.”
“Enough,” Eva implored. “He’ll hear you.”
Zackary’s smile turned sly. “So, you like him too, huh?”
“Like who?” her father questioned. “What am I missing here?”
“Nothing, Dad, you’re missing nothing.” Panic seized her; she had to distract her father. “And I’ve been thinking, if you want to sell our house, then fine, but I want to keep all of mom’s things.”
“Wait, what?” Zackary snapped, dragging them both to a stop. “You are not selling our home!” he yelled. “It’s our home. Mom’s home.”
Her father looked at her with a “help me” expression. “You didn’t tell him? You made this big major decision about building a house here, and you never told him?” She had no words. Her father had gone from letting her run the show and parent Zackary to taking over both their lives in two seconds flat.
“Well, I had to ask Bass first, and then I wanted to see what you thought, Eva, because I couldn’t imagine you living here and—”
“It’s our mom’s house,” Zackary repeated, voice laced with the sound of his wolf. He was panting, his fists clenched, his eyes angry and wild.
Eva took a step back. “Zac?”
“Zac, I’m sorry, okay,” her father pleaded, reaching out for him.
“Leave me alone,” Zackary snarled.
“Move back,” Bass called, racing up, John at his side.
John ran over and put himself in front of Eva and her father as Bass stepped in Zackary’s path.
“Breathe, come on, Zac. You can control this,” Bass urged. Even Eva could feel the weight of Bass’s power, yet his voice was as calm as she’d ever heard it. His posture was open, his hands splayed, expression caring. She’d always feared Bass a little, but seeing him like that made it hard to view him as the big bad wolf.
“I’m trying,” Zackary rasped. “I’m angry, okay. He wants to sell my home, and he wasn’t going to tell me.”
The wolf had nearly vanished from his tone. His hands were unclenched but still clawed. He was gaining control, but her father opened his big mouth and sent it all crashing down.
“I was going to tell you, but this is a perfect example of why I was hesitant to.”
“Dad, shut up!” Eva exclaimed as Zackary lunged.
Bass blocked his way, bracing his feet as they clashed. John had her up into his arms and well out of the way in seconds, somehow dragging her father by the back of his coat in the process.
“John,” she gasped. “Put me down.”
“Zac, come on, kid. Don’t make me do this,” Bass pleaded. But Zackary seemed to be nothing but rage and hate as he found their father’s gaze and snarled. “Zackary!” Bass boomed, giving him pause.
“Come on, little bro,” Eva begged. “You know Dad doesn’t think, and he puts his foot in things.”
Her brother was breathing hard; she could see the internal battle he was having, but her words were working. Zackary found her gaze, the rage draining to be replaced with grief—a grief they’d both not dealt with. Stepping around John, she glared as he tried to pull her back, and took a step toward her brother.
“Eva,” John warned, following closely.
Bass glanced her way.
“Zac won’t hurt me. Will you, Zac?” she answered. “He’s my brother. He’d never hurt me.” Zackary clenched his jaw, his gaze never leaving hers. “I love you, little bro,” she whispered. “Come back to me.”
All the energy drained out of him at once, the wolf fading from his eyes as his claws retracted. Bass caught him as Eva rushed over, taking her brother into her arms as he let out a sob.
“It’s our home, Ev,” he whimpered.
“I know.”
“We might not be there but….”
“I know, Zac. I know. We just thought it would always be there waiting for us.”
Holding him as he cried, Eva shed tears of her own, and when they pulled apart, it was to find themselves alone.
“I really lost it,” Zackary mumbled. “Bass is going to be so mad.”
“No, he’s not. You were upset. It’s understandable.”
“I went all rage wolf, Ev.”
She shrugged. “So what? I yelled and screamed and ran off into the forest and got lost. We just have different tantrums now.”
“John says I can’t afford to lose control now I have teeth and claws.”
“Says Mr. Growl For No Reason,” Eva joked.
“He’s got a thing for you, Eva. I can tell.”
They began to walk. “Wolf thing or brother thing?”
“Both.” He laughed. “I know I’m your little brother, Eva, but if you need me to kick his ass, say the word.”
“I think you are getting way ahead of yourself, Zac. There’s nothing going on.”
“Whatever you say,” he singsonged as they entered Eva’s cabin.
Their father stood, fumbling with a first aid kit in his hands. “John’s in the shower,” he said quietly.
“I’m sorry for getting mad,” Zackary answered.
“I’m sorry for not discussing things with you both.” Their father studied them before pointing to the sofa. “Sit, Eva, then we can talk while I fix you up.”
Obeying, Eva took a seat, her stomach in knots; there was something about her father’s tone that reminded her of the day she’d come home from college for the weekend to find her parents waiting anxiously. They’d delivered the news of her mother’s cancer that day, and today, her father had more bad news for them. She could feel it.
“What’s going on, Dad?” Zackary asked as soon as their father had rolled up Eva’s leggings and started to wipe the graze clean. “I can tell somethings wrong. Your scent’s off and your heart rate has increased.”
Looking up, their father smiled briefly. “Have I ever told you how cool that is?”
“Yeah, Zac, you’re like a superhero now,” Eva teased.
“Yeah, yeah.” Zackary waved them off. “Spill it, Dad.”
With a sigh, he answered, his words forlorn and heavy. “The truth is, guys, I don’t really want to sell the house. My memories live there too, but we can’t afford to
keep it and live here. I haven’t been working with everything that’s happened, and we need to decide what we want to do soon, before the bank takes the house.”
“It’s that bad?” Eva breathed. There were times she felt like an adult, but then something like this would happen and Eva was straight back to being a child, looking to her parents to fix it. Only now, there was one parent left. She’d felt like a little girl the day they’d broken the news of the cancer. She’d cried and begged her mother to get better, because how was she going to get through the rest of her life without her mom to guide her?
“It’s been bad since your mother fell ill. Cancer is expensive. The insurance didn’t cover all of her treatments and that left me with costs I’m struggling to pay.”
“We’ll go home then,” Zackary announced, getting to his feet. “Our home’s there, and so is your business. I’ll have to deal.”
“Will you though?” Eva pushed gently. She didn’t think he would, and it had nothing to do with his temper; her brother wasn’t human anymore. A part of him was an animal, and that animal needed a pack. What would happen to a lone wolf with no real space to run?
Zackary paced the room, but it wasn’t anger chasing him but heartbreak. He was just a kid—too young to have lost his mom, to have been changed fundamentally against his will, and too young to take this burden on his shoulders as well.
“I won’t be the reason we lose our home. Kat helped me change back. That’s why we came here, so let’s go home, I’ve got a handle on the wolf now.”
Eva hissed out a breath as her father rubbed too hard on her other knee. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Zac, whatever we decide, none of it is your fault. Maybe a fresh start will be good for all of us. You’re happy here. You’ve made friends, and I think it’s what’s best.”
“What about, Ev?” he argued, flinging an arm her way. “Where does that leave her?”
Her father looked up from putting gauze over her knee, his gaze expectant. “What? You want me to answer right now? I’ve no idea what tomorrow looks like, let alone next week.”
“Are you happy here?” her father prompted.
Tipping her head back, Eva gazed at the ceiling. “Am I happy?” she asked the wooden beams above her. “No,” she finally answered, looking her dad in the eyes. “No, I’m not happy, but that has nothing to do with being in Dark Shadow.”
“None of us are freaking happy. Mom’s dead,” Zackary snapped. “This isn’t about being happy.”
“It is, Zac,” their father murmured. “Happiness will come again.”
“Fuck happiness,” he swore. “Fuck everything.” Storming out the room, Zackary’s footsteps were heavy. Eva and her father watched him leave as they’d done time after time in the months after her mothers’ death. When things became too hard, Zackary ran.
“We should go after him,” Eva noted.
“You’re not going anywhere,” John ordered, coming out of the bathroom. “I’ll text Bass. He’ll find him.” Coming into the room, John’s gaze remained firmly on her. He perched on the arm of the sofa beside her and looked at her dad. “How’s the patient?”
“She’ll live,” he answered as he applied the last dressing to the palm of her hand.
“I couldn’t help overhearing what you guys were saying,” John began, sounding a little guilty. “And I need to say that Zac won’t cope alone. He wasn’t born with this gift, and lone wolves tend to be more aggressive and have a higher possibility of going rogue.”
“Rogue?” Eva questioned.
“It’s where the human half is buried by the wolf, never to resurface again. Effectively, he’d become like a wild wolf, only far more dangerous.”
Her father nodded. “I’ve discussed the issues already with Bass. Moving him here is what’s best, but we’ve got to make Zac understand. Without him taking on the guilt that leaving the house he grew up in will cause.”
“There is my college fund,” Eva offered.
His eyes narrowed. “Eva, that money is for your future, and all it would effectively do is put a Band-Aid on the problem. Zac needs a pack. Therefore, I need to live and work near the pack.”
“Bass would take him,” John added.
Her father smiled tightly. “While it is honorable that Dark Shadow would take on a teenager as their own, I’ve already lost my wife, John. I don’t plan on losing my son too.”
“I didn’t mean permanently. You could visit,” John offered.
“And live in a house with nothing but my wife’s ghost and children’s echoes as company? I’d rather not.”
“Dad’s happy here,” Eva explained. “We might not want to part with the house, but the truth is, living there without Mom was hell.” For months, Eva had wandered her home half expecting to find her mother in her favorite chair reading a book. The door would open on an evening, and for just a second, she’d forget her mother was never coming home from work again. Living there meant enduring the repeated pain of her death. In a way, it had been a relief to put Zackary in a van and drive away; his turning had brought them all a distraction from the sorrow they suffered daily.
John nodded. Her father sighed. “Anywhere without her is hell, but yes, being here has kept me busy.”
Hiding a yawn behind her hand, Eva took in her father. He looked far older than he did a year ago; stress and grief had aged him. She wished she could heal some of his pain, but the awful truth was, her father would likely spend the rest of his life alone, mourning the wife he’d lost.
“It will be all right, Dad,” Eva promised, taking her father’s hand.
“Will it?” His eyes held hers, the emptiest she’d seen them.
“Eventually. We promised Mom we’d not stay sad forever, remember?”
Chuckling sadly, he replied, “I remember you and Zac promising, I, on the other hand, wisely kept my mouth closed.”
Smiling tightly, Eva squeezed his hand. The memory of the day she’s promised her mom filling her mind — her father had stayed quiet. She on the other hand had agreed even though she’d known it was a promise she’d most likely break, because happiness was impossible without her mom. And if there was moments filled with laughter, guilt shortly followed. “It’s late. I think we should all get some sleep and talk more tomorrow,” Eva suggested. She didn’t have the energy for lifting her father’s spirits, or her own for that matter.
“Yes, you’re right. I best go check on Zac anyway.”
He stood, and Eva forced her tired, sore body to follow suit. “Night, Dad. I love you.”
“Love you too, Eva girl.” He smiled, then turned to John and nodded.
Watching her father leave, Eva had the distinct feeling he’d left all his sorrow behind. She was drowning in it, searching for a way out, but she’d been searching for months and hadn’t found away. Maybe her father was right; maybe she should return to college and carry on with her plan for vet school. Yet when she thought of leaving, it didn’t feel like moving forward at all, but backward. Back to a life that died along with her mother.
“How are you feeling?” John asked once they were alone.
“Like I could stay in bed for a week and still be tired.”
He laughed. “Then to bed with you.”
“I’m kinda hungry too.”
“Bed. I’ll bring you something. If I’m allowed in your room, of course?”
She smiled, walking away. “It depends on how good the meal is you bring me.”
His eyes widened in alarm. “I’m guessing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich isn’t going to do then?”
Her answer was laughter and a closed door in his face. John had kissed her. He’d bossed her about as if they were together. If he intended to keep doing those things, Eva was going to have to make him work for it. Nope, a PB and J sandwich is definitely not going to do.
Chapter 9
John
He’d faced death more times than he could count, protected his home and pack without fear, yet Eva’s challenge threw him
for a loop. John didn’t know what her favorite food was, whether she preferred sweet over savory. He didn’t know much at all, apart from the increasing intensity of the pull toward her.
“Okay, you’ve got this, John,” he muttered to himself as he jogged over to the pack kitchen. He might not have known what to bring her, but he knew it wasn’t going to be found in his near-empty cupboards.
Kerry smiled as he entered. The place was empty and would most likely stay that way until early morning shift change, but Kerry was often in here into the small hours of the morning. She didn’t need to be and had been told many times to not work so late, but the head chef had lost her mate years ago and preferred to keep herself busy rather than dwell on the missing half of her soul. “Why do you look so worried?” she asked, coming out from behind the main counter to meet him.
Lowering himself to her level, John double-checked once again that they were alone before whispering, “Can you keep a secret?”
Her eyes sparkled with intrigue. “Go on.”
“I’m trying to impress a woman and have no idea what to feed her.”
Her laughter was bright, the pat to his chest a move his mother often made and instantly made him feel young. “Don’t you worry, John. I’ve got you covered. Follow me.”
Entering the kitchen behind her, John was hit with a number of smells, the strongest being the sour tang coming from covered bowls. “What’s in there?” he asked, wrinkling up his nose.
“Sourdough. It’s why I’m still up. I wanted to get them ready, so they can ferment overnight before baking in the morning.”
“You spoil us,” John murmured.
“It keeps an old lady busy,” she replied. “Right then, this pasta dish is leftover from a special batch I made earlier for Cassady. She’s been craving it nonstop.”
“I’m not sure it’s wise to steal a pregnant lady’s food,” John answered. Cassady might look fragile and cumbersome with her huge belly, but John wasn’t a fool. The woman was lethal before being pregnant, and she’d be just as much, if not more, with child.
“Nonsense. Besides, she’s had three servings this evening. I think you’ll be fine.”
“Three.” John laughed. “Can she even move after all that food?”
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