This was why Connie wasn’t all bad, despite Zach’s inability to like her. Storm loved her and was loved by her, fiercely. Zach was here to protect that bond.
Chapter Four
Sally already owned a house. She’d been renting it out for the past half year as she retrenched while staying in Wolf Town. It was a cute three-bedroom. Not too big for a single person, and someday she might return to Flint Hill.
At least that house was hers.
This house wasn’t. It felt like a monstrosity as she stalked around the rental. Angus had arranged it. Or Angus’s people, however they did such things. They’d had a few requirements. She needed to live in Storm’s neighborhood, and she was three streets over. She needed a piano, and it came equipped with a lovely baby grand. And the house needed to be empty. The family was away on a four-month sabbatical.
She felt overwhelmed, staying in a stranger’s space, amidst their furniture.
Angus had offered to leave someone with her, for company and for support, but that would have been worse. Sally was happy to live with Jancis, a friend, but she didn’t want to share space with an unknown. Besides, she knew how to be alone.
The alpha’s expression as he regarded her was apologetic. She didn’t want that either, or worse, his pity. She’d signed on for this, she’d deal with it.
She rubbed her arms and smiled at him. “It’s very nice.”
To say he looked unconvinced would be an understatement.
“It is nice. Just not quite my style. I’ll get used to it.” She gave a sharp nod, as if that would convince him.
He rubbed his jaw. “We have one last thing to discuss.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got my phone and I promise to answer it. I’ll even call you from time to time.” She suspected he thought she wouldn’t make the effort to stay in touch.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he responded, tone dry. “That isn’t what I was referring to.”
She plopped down on a couch—leather, expensive—and pulled her legs under her, ready for another lecture about how to ingratiate herself with the parents and families of Storm Larsen’s school. It might take weeks until she made contact with the pup himself, but from the community she should be able to get a sense of whether or not he was safe. And go from there.
“Shoot,” she told Angus.
He sat on the large chair opposite her and leaned forward. “I want you to be careful.”
There he went again, getting her back up. Did he think she was stupid because she had once needed his help? “Of course I’m going to be careful. If there are any signs of the gray wolf’s buddies showing up around here, I’ll call you immediately. As agreed”—she glanced at her watch—“fifteen minutes ago.” She was also here to bring protection to Storm if he needed it.
“Uh, yes. But there’s another angle.” He eyed her, as if he didn’t know how she would take his next words. “It’s possible, Sally, we’re dealing with a horse shifter.”
She blinked, then searched his face. Maybe that was a joke she didn’t get. Except Angus appeared to be dead serious, so she responded slowly, “I’ve never heard of such a creature.”
“In Mala’s dream, Storm thought of the horse as Zach. Yet Storm lives with a man named Zach. Friend of the family, and Storm’s guardian.”
Sally toyed with the idea that Zach the horse had been named after Zach the person, but decided it was unlikely. “Maybe Mala misunderstood?”
“Absolutely possible. However, that was one very smart horse, coming to Storm’s rescue the way it did.”
“Why are you telling me this now?” God knows she’d been told a hundred times to call for backup at the first hint of trouble. There’d been time for Angus to give her this information.
“Because it’s just you and me here. No wolves can overhear us. This isn’t for general knowledge, and I’d ask you not to share this with anyone else. Horse shifters like anonymity, need anonymity. They are vulnerable.”
“There are others?” She couldn’t believe it.
“At least one other.” Angus scrubbed a hand over his face, almost like he felt guilty. “I’m not willing to let him know about the possibility of Zach yet and have his appearance complicate the situation. First I need Storm’s safety assessed by you. I can’t let anything get in the way of that.”
“Horse shifters.” Incredible. Cat shifters existed, not that she’d met any, but horses?
“Horse shifters kill wolves, Sally.”
“Well, if you’re right, horse shifters also protect baby wolves.”
“Ye-es.” He sighed. “I wish I could do this myself.”
“Despite what you may think, I can keep myself safe.”
He paused, clearly unhappy at the idea of her being in danger. “You wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think you capable. But keep your wolf away from the horse. This is about our humans making contact. Much less threatening to him, especially as a horse recently attacked by a wolf.”
“Got it,” she said to reassure Angus. She was a wolf. She sensed emotions, knew when someone meant to do her harm, and didn’t need these cautions. Thing was, she’d been through danger, and this looked nothing like it. A young guy working to raise a six-year-old. This Zach was not a stalker wolf trying to force himself upon her so they could have babies together.
“And stay aware.”
She nodded, tiring of these dire warnings.
“I’m a bit uneasy,” Angus admitted. His mouth quirked. “Besides, Jancis will never forgive me if something happens to you.”
Sally relaxed. She didn’t like proclamations of affection from male wolves, had been inoculated against them. It was a nice touch, that he made it through his daughter.
“You’re okay,” she allowed.
Angus laughed. “I’ll take it as a high compliment, coming from you.”
“Look, I’m supposed to make sure the child is in a safe place, right? I think that’s manageable.” Operation Storm was not anything complicated or requiring great skill. Low-level spying is how she thought of it. Attempting to make friends with the tiny music department of a private school was not exactly the big leagues.
“Agreed.” He paused, and she waited for what he had to say next. “If you can manage to befriend Zach, it would be extremely helpful.”
“I don’t make friends, Angus.” She kind of meant she didn’t make friends with guys, but didn’t have the desire to voice that.
“Make an acquaintance then. Though this guy is an exception in many ways, so maybe he’ll be befriendable despite yourself.”
How optimistic he was. She’d count it lucky if she managed to talk to the guy at all. She rose. “I think it’s time for you to go.”
Angus laughed again, taking a moment before he stood to leave. At least he didn’t look apologetic and worried when he walked out the door.
Zach watched Storm and his little friend Jason build some kind of fort in the backyard. A difficult prospect with the day’s powdery snow, but the boys persevered.
At the beginning, Zach had balked at the idea of Storm having friends, let alone having friends over. But Connie had pushed, and Storm’s tears had led Zach to arrange some play dates. At his house. There needed to be a balance between protecting Storm’s identity and allowing Storm healthy relationships.
Not every parent was pleased to have their child stay over when Zach appeared to be a single guy, unemployed. He did say he was studying, which wasn’t a lie given how much he needed to catch up. He didn’t say he was studying for his high school diploma.
A few of the more adventurous and open-minded families allowed play dates. Some parents didn’t care. Jason’s had stayed the first couple of times until they felt comfortable with the entire situation, and Zach respected that. He might even consider Storm visiting Jason’s one day, but for now he just said Storm was too shy.
While his outgoing personality suggested otherwise, Storm wouldn’t have stayed anywhere outside of school without Zach or his grandparents
. He did tend to cling, given his short life had been one long upheaval.
Better than Zach’s life that was one long blank. White space with the occasional splash of color. He’d wrestled with his memory loss, alternating between trying to recover more memories to trying to forget what he did occasionally see. The abstract pictures, out of context, left him unsettled and unhappy. And brought him no answers.
So he studied. He didn’t know when he’d stopped high school, if indeed he’d attended high school, but he wasn’t bad at teaching himself. Not that he’d registered for a high school diploma, since he wanted to avoid having his name in a database.
He did the equivalent, taking on English, since he could read, thank God, and shoring up on sciences and math.
He tried not to feel stupid when he met parents with multiple degrees. That didn’t matter, didn’t fucking matter, if people saw him as dim-witted, as long as he was considered a decent caretaker for Storm. He didn’t look too far into the future, but he looked a heck of a lot further than he had when he’d been a horse and lived day to day.
The boys tumbled into the house, snow and snow pants flying, and Zach fed them and popped in a DVD. Storm’s favorite these days was Secretariat of all things. It didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out why, but it was beyond Jason’s understanding, and the child got bored until they fast-forwarded to the horse races.
Then it was time to go home.
That evening while being tucked in, Storm announced, “I want to take piano lessons.”
“You do, eh?” The idea of Storm taking piano lessons had never crossed Zach’s mind.
“Jason likes them.”
“I see.” This meant Jason’s parents believed it to be a good idea, since they enrolled their child in every possible activity, only for him to drop most of them the following week. Piano was the new flavor. It would pass.
But not tonight and not for Storm who held on to things more tightly.
“Zooki.” Storm clutched his stuffed tiger tight. He had a penchant for big cats ever since Connie had told him cat shifters existed. Zach had yet to meet any and hoped it stayed that way. But the boy’s attachment to the stuffed animal was cute. “Zooki,” Storm repeated more loudly at Zach’s non-response.
“Hm?”
“His piano.”
“Okay.” Zach hadn’t a clue what Storm was talking about.
The boy was perceptive enough to see that and started figuring out his next move. “I’ll ask Gramma. She’ll get them for me.”
Zach had a hard time picturing Storm sitting still for any piano lessons, but what the hell, this could be between Storm and Connie.
“You do that. You talk to Gramma,” Zach said.
“Sue-zoo-key,” Connie repeated with exaggerated enunciation. “It’s not a type of a piano, it’s an approach to teaching piano. The Suzuki method.”
Zach nodded. He would look it up on the Internet later so Connie didn’t have to explain every detail to him. His face had heated up slightly, though he tried hard not to be embarrassed by his many gaps in knowledge. There wasn’t much point in embarrassment.
Tactfully ignoring his reaction, Connie continued, “I think this Jason is a good influence.”
It was difficult to consider a six-year-old with a short attention span an influence. But Jason, though a little bossy with Storm, was not mean-spirited, and that was good enough for Zach.
“I’ll get in touch with his parents.” She paused. “If I arrange piano lessons for Storm, would you be willing to take Storm to them?”
“Sure.” He’d only ever balked at one activity—horseback riding. Seeing those poor horses walk around an indoor ring had been dispiriting in the extreme, had made Zach want to go home and lie down in bed and stare at the ceiling—not a reaction he usually had to anything. Connie had quickly understood the riding lessons were problematic and took it upon herself to drive Storm to the stables when her grandson was visiting her. Ironic that what attracted Storm to riding was Zach himself. Which had come in useful the other night when they’d made their way home after the wolf attack.
“Good,” Connie said briskly, bringing Zach back to the topic of piano lessons. “I’ll give them a call. Perhaps it will be in walking distance and you won’t have to take a taxi.”
He could deal with taxis fine, but he nodded again, and she forged ahead to explain how she would buy Storm a piano and when it would be delivered.
Then Storm emerged from the bathroom, face alight at seeing his grandmother and looking forward to a weekend spent with his grandparents. Connie hugged the boy, and they set off for her car. As was often the case, Storm broke away at the last minute and ran to Zach for a final embrace.
“I’ll be here when you return,” Zach promised. Important words, given how Storm’s parents had disappeared from his life, his mother leaving him with only one thing, a distinctive name she’d insisted upon. “You have fun now.”
Storm trotted back to his grandmother to be belted into his car seat.
Zach waved from the doorstep as they drove away.
This was always a hard moment, the beginning of his weekend alone. Odd in a way, given he’d spent years alone. But that had been as horse, not human, not in a beautiful house that didn’t belong to him.
The house seemed empty and lifeless without Storm. Zach knew it wasn’t great the boy was his one purpose in life. Yes, the werewolf pup had brought him back to humanity, but Zach needed more. It’s why he studied.
Well, that and his pride. A couple of times Connie had brought up the topic of his education, as if Zach would want to attend a school somewhere. He’d shut down that line of conversation.
He’d figured out computers and the Internet on his own. He could educate himself. At some point he’d need to support himself. When he’d first returned to humanity, he’d shrugged off that requirement, thinking he’d go back to being horse when Storm no longer needed him. Then Zach had come to realize Storm would always want him in his life, and not just as a feral horse shifter. To do that, Zach needed to create a future for himself.
He wasn’t sure how to accomplish that.
A phone call came on Sunday afternoon, a few hours before Storm was due home. He could have left it to the machine, but when Zach didn’t recognize the number, he cautiously picked up the receiver. “Hello?”
“May I speak to Zach, please?” It was a pleasant voice, a woman’s, and he couldn’t guess who it might be.
“Speaking.”
“This is Sally Walcott. Connie Larson contacted me yesterday about piano lessons for Storm Larson.” Her tone held a slight question at the end.
That was fast. At this rate, the piano would arrive tomorrow instead of next week. “Oh, yes, sure.”
“I was hoping we could set up a time for our first lesson.”
“Sure.”
“What day would be good for you?”
At six years of age, Storm’s calendar wasn’t exactly booked full, but the long days at school wore him out. Midweek might be best. “Wednesday would work.”
“Perfect. Is five o’clock all right?”
“Sure.” It occurred to Zach he could say more than this one word to the woman. He cleared his throat. “That’s good for us. How long is a piano lesson?”
“Half an hour,” she said promptly.
Not too bad. Zach would bring a book to read while Storm had his lesson.
“I’ll see you on Wednesday,” she said, filling the void, and rattled off her phone number and address. Zach wrote them down and rather wished he could think of more to say to the nice voice. But he couldn’t.
“We’ll see you then,” Zach agreed, and hung up.
“Bye,” Sally said into the dead phone. Well, it hadn’t gone badly for first contact. Not exactly Mr. Loquacious, but that didn’t matter.
Since moving in, she’d been frantically studying up on the Suzuki method for her “cover”. She normally taught older students and used the more traditional Royal Conse
rvatory of Music syllabus while Suzuki was aimed at students Storm’s age. More importantly, Suzuki required parental involvement. Zach was filling those shoes, and Sally would get a better read on him if he was part of the lesson.
She’d toyed with the idea of warning him upfront on the phone about said parental involvement but had decided it might scare him away. Let him arrive and find it out firsthand.
Jason’s parents had done amazingly quick work—and made her job a heck of a lot easier. They were young professionals, doted on their son, and were thrilled to see Sally take up residence and offer lessons, just five doors down. In fact, Storm was the third of six children Jason’s parents had sent Sally’s way. From experience, she knew parents loved to have a piano teacher in the neighborhood, and no one else was filling the Suzuki niche right now. Still, they’d had a lucky break here. Sally hoped the rest of Operation Storm ran as smoothly, though she couldn’t count on it.
Her first Suzuki lesson was tomorrow, and she was nervous enough she could feel her wolf prancing around, nipping at her, urging her to shift. However, the moon was waning, and Sally was in a suburb. Tonight she’d play this lovely piano she had at her disposal and read more about Suzuki. She liked piano, she liked students. This was going to go fine.
After all, both she and Suzuki had had plenty of practice teaching “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”.
Chapter Five
If nothing else, Sally had plenty of time to play the piano over the next two days. It was fun to focus on it and hone her skills. Even if the real reason she was here, Storm, was always at the back of her mind.
And now, it was quite squarely in the forefront because within ten minutes, if Zach was an on-time kind of guy, she was going to meet them for Storm’s first piano lesson.
She paced, but slowly, unwilling to greet them with an elevated heart rate and flushed skin. Shifters noticed things like that, even children. She wanted to reassure Storm—and Zach, whether he was a shifter or not. The idea of a horse shifter still struck her as outlandish. But she tried to keep an open mind. After all, Angus was hardly prone to flights of fancy.
Running Free (Northern Shifters) Page 3
