Change In the Light

by Tami Lund

  When the computer warmed up, she did a search on a name: Kent Pantera.

  Who was he? Why did he want to usurp Josh? Why had he challenged Josh’s grandfather for an inherited social position? Why did this position matter so much to him that he’d threatened Rachel with death if she didn’t sleep with Josh and distract him so that Pantera could weasel his way into the leadership role?

  And most important: how could she use this information to free herself from his clutches? If she could figure out a way to force Pantera to stop tormenting her, she would be free to be with Josh, unconditionally. She could allow herself to act on those feelings she kept trying to suppress. Whatever the hell his association was, it wasn’t the mafia, she was sure of it. She didn’t quite understand what it was, but so far Pantera was the only person with whom she’d come into contact who seemed to have a negative agenda. Well, that lady, Jeanine, hadn’t been happy to meet her, but Rachel suspected that was more her upbringing within such exclusive social circles than anything else.

  Everyone else, they were just…people. Living their lives, with the added benefit of someone like Josh whom they could rely on in their time of need. She tried to picture Pantera in charge when Maddy’s mother had been going through a difficult labor, and she shuddered because she was certain he would not have acted as Josh had. He would not have done everything in his power to save the mother and child. Not unless it somehow benefited him.

  By the time she was officially late for work, Rachel had found little helpful information about her adversary. Kent Pantera was a well-to-do figure within suburban Detroit society. He was a member at all the right country clubs. He owned some type of electrical company. He had once been married, but his wife had died tragically more than fifteen years ago. No children. No immediate family noted.

  No note of this secretive organization that Josh and Kent both belonged to. No information about a challenge with Josh’s grandfather. She had admittedly been curious about that. What sort of challenge? Like a duel? That couldn’t have been more than thirty years ago, because Josh had said he was a young child when it happened. Thirty years ago, dueling wasn’t a typical way to settle differences.

  There were a handful of pictures that were obviously taken for other purposes and he happened to be in the vicinity. The only thing her search accomplished was proving what she suspected: Kent Pantera was indeed the man who’d forced her to sleep with Josh in the first place. Other than that, she’d learned precious little from her sleuthing session.

  “Stupid private people. How am I supposed to figure anything out? I thought you could find anything on the Internet.” With a sigh of annoyance, she moved the mouse, intending to power down the computer. But something caught her eye at the bottom of the screen. The website she had open was from a local newspaper. She had been reading an article about a residential development that had gone up about ten years ago. Pantera’s company had been contracted to wire the houses in the neighborhood. Within the first twelve months the houses were occupied, an unprecedented number of electrical fires had broken out, and at least one home had burned to the ground.

  Accusations had been flung, it looked as though Pantera was about to be sued, and then nothing. Everything had been miraculously wrapped up without further incident. No explanation, other than the reporter’s tone, suggesting certain palms had been greased and that Pantera should still be required to compensate those people for their losses.

  At the bottom of the screen flashed the words, Breaking Local News Story: House Fire Blazing Right Now. Click here for video.

  Rachel recalled her boss commenting on more than one occasion about social media, and how quickly news travelled these days, compared to when she had been a young intern at a small town publishing company. Her curiosity piqued, Rachel clicked the link and watched as her screen shifted from the old article to a live broadcast from what the headline claimed was the newspaper’s “sister television network.”

  Behind the reporter speaking into the camera was a smoldering, smoking structure, a fire truck, and several firefighters holding hoses and soaking the charred skeleton of what had presumably been a house. The camera panned the area, and Rachel saw clusters of people standing nearby, watching the progress. Before the camera could move on, a black Escalade drove into the picture, came to a screeching halt, and then Josh and Matt leaped out of the cab, almost before it stopped moving.

  Whoever’s house was on fire, it had to be someone from his association. Feeling an overwhelming desire to help in any way possible, Rachel slammed the computer closed and rushed from the room, intent upon getting to work and alerting her boss of what was going on. She worked at a nonprofit organization, after all. Helping people in need was exactly their purpose in this life.

  *

  “It’s not a total loss.”

  Josh faced his cousin, knowing full well his grief was spelled out on his face. “Half their home was destroyed in a fire, Matt. I don’t think that comment is exactly going to make them feel better.”

  Matt nodded at the still smoking remains of the charred mansion. “Yeah. It was the living room area, too. Mrs. Bears loves her pictures. All those photos are lost now. Some of them were black and white, remember?”

  “Yes,” Josh said grimly. “I remember.” Mr. and Mrs. Bears had been lifelong friends of his parents. The home they’d shared for more than forty years was now half-destroyed by a questionable fire.

  They were a hundred yards away at the moment. Mr. Bears had his arm around his mate’s shoulders as she wept quietly into a white linen handkerchief. Josh knew he should go over there and offer his condolences, swear to find whoever did this to their home. But Kent Pantera was standing with them, talking smoothly, gesturing wildly, probably blaming this whole damn thing on Josh. He didn’t often have violent urges, but right now Josh wanted nothing more than to walk over there and rip Kent’s head from his shoulders. He could probably do it, too. He was pretty damn pissed off.

  “Uh oh,” Matt muttered. “Here comes the fire inspector.”

  Josh pulled his gaze away from Pantera and Mr. and Mrs. Bears, pushed his murderous thoughts aside, and focused on answering the fire inspector’s questions. Nearly everything warranted an “I don’t know” response.

  “That other guy implied you might know more than you’re telling me,” the human fire inspector commented. She was an attractive woman, and Josh suspected she had a nice body under that shapeless uniform. Her reddish-brown hair was pulled into a bun behind her head and her hat was pulled low over her eyes. Those eyes looked as if they missed very little.

  Josh just wanted her to go away. He knew she suspected it was arson. While the fire inspector would do her thing, Josh would do his as well. By the rules of the pack, he would commit to finding whoever caused this devastation and punish them accordingly. And he had a pretty damn good idea where to start looking. His gaze cut to the threesome still standing a hundred feet away.

  Pantera’s gaze hardened when Josh focused on him. A warning?

  Fuck his warning. Josh was tired of playing nice.

  “Oh yeah? Did he also mention he happens to be an expert electrician, while I’m just a lowly general manager of a local hotel?”

  The fire inspector’s gaze slid to the side and she observed the threesome for a moment. “No,” she said finally. “But the homeowner mentioned he’d recently paid that gentleman’s company to come in and do some minor rewiring on the home.” Her tone was flat, devoid of emotion, but Josh could sense the wheels spinning in her head. Let her draw the same conclusions he had. Let her breathe down Pantera’s neck. The man deserved to feel a little pressure.

  The fire inspector thanked him for his time, handed him her card and walked away. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out and glanced at the screen.

  Rachel.

  “Hey,” he murmured into the phone as his gaze swept over the scene once again. There were humans crawling around everywhere like ants, scouring the devastatio
n, smoldering any hot spots and trying to determine what happened and why and—most importantly—who did it.

  “I’m watching a breaking local news story. A house fire, in your neighborhood. And I swear I just saw you standing with a good-looking brunette.”

  Josh laughed at the unveiled jealousy in her voice. It was nice to know at least one person was unconditionally on his side. With Rachel, he never had to pretend. He didn’t have to consciously put his best foot forward or keep his feelings hidden behind a mask.

  If only she was a shifter. How many times had that thought gone through his mind since he met her?

  “Was she good-looking? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Good answer.” He chuckled again at the obvious relief in her tone, which quickly changed to concern. “What’s going on? Is it someone you know? Are they okay?”

  “They’re fine. Friends of my parents. Their home caught fire. The fire department contained it, but a good third of the house was destroyed.”

  “That’s terrible. Do they need anything? A place to stay? Any other help?”

  He shook his head and smiled. “Are you offering to put them up in your apartment? That place is barely large enough for you, let alone another couple. Not to mention, the obvious issues of safety.”

  He could almost hear her eye roll. “Of course not. But I have a list of area hotels that offer discounts to people displaced by natural disasters. And I’ve already put out a call to our volunteers to help with cleanup. If there’s anything else I can do, tell me.”

  If she were there in person, he would hug her to him, pull her flush against his body and squeeze her until she squeaked. Fates, he loved this woman.

  What?

  “Josh? Hello? Josh? Are you there? Josh? Answer me!”

  He cleared his throat, shook his head, and forced a normal tone. “Uh, I’m here.” He cleared his throat again. “They’re—they’re fine, Rachel. I’ll take care of them. They have plenty of family in the area. If they don’t want to stay with one of their kids, I have plenty of room at my house. Hell, I called them aunt and uncle as a kid. I’m not going to turn my back on them now. Listen, I have to go. I’ll call you later.” He disconnected the call.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Matt commented. “What did she say?”

  Josh shook his head again. He wasn’t ready to discuss it. He gestured at the charred home. “It’s nothing she said. It’s this. It just—this whole situation sucks all around.”

  Matt looked as if he wanted to press the issue, but wisely let it drop. No way in hell was Josh about to tell anyone that he’d just realized he was in love with a human.

  * * * *

  The next morning, when Josh stopped by the Bears’ partially destroyed home, he found a shocking and amazing sight. A group of humans were there, twenty at least, and every single one was hard at work, sorting through and cleaning up the remains from the fire. They were from all walks of life, from young to almost too old to be doing manual labor, and encompassed seemingly everything in between.

  They piled chunks of ruined furniture on the lawn and bagged smaller items that weren’t salvageable. A few women were very carefully sifting through the soot and grime, and as he watched, one pulled what looked like a framed portrait out of the rubble and held it up for another to inspect. The woman holding the portrait had long red hair pulled back into a ponytail, and she wore khaki shorts and a basic T-shirt. Rachel. The woman inspecting the picture was Mrs. Bears.

  What the hell?

  Josh hurried across the lawn to the two women.

  “Aunt Helen,” he said, reverting back to the childhood nickname. “Rachel.”

  Helen beamed at him as she impulsively hugged Rachel, who blushed and smiled uncertainly.

  “Look what she found, Josh,” Helen said as she thrust the portrait at him. “It’s salvageable, too.”

  He looked down at the charred frame and brushed away the grime coating the cracked glass. It was a picture of him and his parents, a formal portrait taken when Josh was probably seven or eight years old. He sucked in a breath as the memories swamped him. His parents had been dead for more than a year and a half, yet when things like this happened, it felt like someone was slicing open his heart again, and letting it bleed freely. It hurt. A lot.

  He could feel Rachel’s gaze on him. He sensed she wanted to reach out to him, but was holding back, probably because she was uncertain of how he would react. She was aware of his need to keep her separate from this part of his life, and she accepted it, regardless of how wrong or unfair.

  He wanted to hug her. He wanted to accept her sympathy, let her soothe the pain away. He gritted his teeth and clutched the picture, refusing to meet her gaze.

  Helen chattered on, oblivious to whatever was happening between Josh and Rachel.

  “Isn’t she wonderful? She just showed up here this morning, with all these people in tow, ready to help salvage whatever we can, before the work crews come in and start cleanup. They’re all from a local nonprofit organization.” Helen swept her arm through the air and then wagged a finger at him.

  “I certainly hope you consider donating a hefty contribution to that agency, young man. They really do wonderful work.”

  Josh gaped at the woman, a member of his pack, who was telling him to donate pack funds to a human charity.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Helen scoffed.

  “But—but—” He waved at Rachel, as if trying to get Helen to understand without actually saying, it’s a human charity.

  “I am fully aware of what you are trying to say,” Helen said. “And I wholeheartedly disagree with that us and them philosophy. Your mother was one of my best friends, and she knew it, too. I didn’t keep any secrets from her. I told her all the time I thought your dad’s opinion on separating the two…entities was just plain stupid. We’re all, well, we all live in the same place. No reason we can’t cohabitate. Or more.” She gave Rachel a meaningful look.

  Josh finally shifted his focus and caught Rachel’s eye. Confusion was spelled out on her face. He wondered what she thought of Helen’s cryptic message.

  “I’m glad to see you have decided to form your own opinions. It’s high time this—er, what should I call it?” Helen asked.

  “Association.”

  “Right. Our association needs to expand its beliefs. We need to be more open, more accepting. And I think our pack, er, leader should make the first move in that direction.” She nodded at the section of the house that hadn’t been ruined by fire.

  “If you’re careful, you can get up the stairs to the second level,” she said. “Why don’t you two take that picture and go put it with the rest of the things we’ve salvaged? They’re all in the master bedroom. That is one I definitely want to keep.”

  Josh looked down at the picture in his hands.

  “Go,” Helen said softly, and then she turned away and walked over to two other human women who were still sifting through the rubble, searching for anything that could be saved and restored.

  “I hope I’m not intruding,” Rachel said, breaking the silence that fell when Helen walked away. “I just wanted to help. I figured this was the best—”

  Josh grabbed her hand and all but dragged her toward the staircase Helen had indicated. She practically had to run to keep up with his long, determined strides.

  He didn’t think. He didn’t dare consider the consequences to his actions. At the top of the stairs, he made a sharp left and strode to the end of the hall, pushed open a door, pulled her through, and then kicked it closed before grabbing Rachel and dragging her into his arms.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known,” he murmured before he crushed his lips to hers, twisting one hand in her hair to hold her still while he plundered her mouth, as his other hand snaked down and cupped her ass, grinding her against his hard-as-a-fucking-brick erection. He wanted this. He needed this. He was doing this, his pack and all their goddamned exclusivity ideals be damn
ed.

  “God, I need you,” he murmured as he slid his hands under the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head.

  “Josh, I don’t think Mrs. Bears meant for us to—”

  He cut her off by kissing her mouth again. “Yeah, she did,” he said as he slipped his thumbs into the waistband of her shorts and pushed them down over her hips. “This is exactly what she meant for us to do.”

  “I don’t think—”

  He cut her off again, this time by cupping her breasts and rubbing his thumbs over the erect nipples. She made a gurgling sound as her head lolled on her shoulders.

  “Don’t think,” he suggested. “Just feel.” He pulled off his own shirt, quickly divested himself of his jeans and boxers. He liked the way she sucked in a breath and her eyes widened every time she saw him naked.

  “It’s all yours.” He made a growling noise in his throat as he backed her toward the bed. Not a warning, more a sound of anticipation. “I’m all yours,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her back and bent to suckle one of her nipples.

  “Josh.” She gasped as she arched into his touch.

  He reached down and cupped her sex, sliding a finger through wetness. “You’re ready for me.”

  “Oh, God, yes.”

  “Good. Because we’re doing this.” He flipped her around so she faced away from him, and then gently pushed her down so her hands pressed against the comforter covering the bed. He stood behind her and nudged her leg with his knee. She obligingly widened her stance. He stood there for a few moments, one hand stroking her sex, the other smoothing over her ass, and he admired the view, half-heartedly trying to talk himself out of what he was about to do.

  It wasn’t working.

  “Josh. Please.”

  Nope, it definitely wasn’t working. He wanted this. He needed this. More than anything else in his life, he needed Rachel. Bending his knees, he positioned himself, and then he thrust. Hard.

  As the sensations washed over him—love, lust, desire, need—Josh bent over her, covering her body with his, holding her hip with one hand and wrapping the other around her waist, hugging her to him. She tilted her head back, her eyes closed, her face a mask of ecstasy. She wanted this, too. She might not fully understand what exactly it meant, but she wanted it. On some subconscious level, she understood this was significant to him. He buried his face in her hair.