“What the fuck was that?” Sally hissed, furious. “How the hell am I supposed to foster a relationship with Zach when you blindside him like that?”
Angus didn’t answer her question. “I think he was lying.”
“Of course he was lying, you asshole.” Zach had been shocked by the picture, and stressed.
Angus’s eyebrows rose. She never spoke to him this way, and she wondered if he’d retaliate, but he was more perplexed by her behavior than angry. She was angry enough for the two of them.
He took her arm to lead her to the car where Jancis stood, having observed the entire exchange. Sally shook off Angus’s hand. She was too incensed for physical contact.
“Get in the car, and we’ll talk,” he said in a low voice.
“I’m driving,” Jancis announced. Sally threw herself into the backseat, as far from Angus as possible, and slammed the door shut.
Jancis winced. “Don’t break the car, Sally.”
Sally folded her arms across her chest. She was close to shaking. It was happening again, her discomfort, her anger, her rage with male wolves. Though never before had it been on behalf of a horse shifter. Still, how was she supposed to live permanently in Wolf Town when these emotions could run riot over her?
Angus turned back to her. “I’m sorry.”
That did nothing to appease her. “You’re sorry? You—”
“I promised Trey.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you promised Trey.”
“Well you should. Because he’s done a hell of a lot for Wolf Town, and my promises to him mean something.”
“So throw Zach under the bus because—”
“I did not throw anyone under the bus.” Angus’s voice was rising. “Zach has a brother who is desperate to find him. Don’t you think that’s important?”
Sally started yelling. “Maybe Zach has good reason to stay away from his so-called brother. What the hell do you know? Are you all-knowing because you’re an alpha—?”
“I am not the alpha, technically—”
“Technically,” she said scathingly. But she was getting off track. “Maybe Zach’s brother is one of those psychotic shifters. Have you thought of that? God knows I’ve met my share.”
“Well, yes, I’ve thought of that, Sally. Except in reality he happens to be a very nice fellow who fears his brother is dead!”
“Or wishes him dead.”
“You guys!” Jancis pulled the car over at the end of the rather long driveway and stopped. Then spoke to the steering wheel. “I cannot drive like this. Sally, Trey has met Zach’s brother and can vouch for him.”
Sally leaned back, glaring. “Since I haven’t met Trey that means jack shit to me.”
Jancis slung an arm over her headrest and looked at Sally. “I’m seeing a whole new side of you, Sally, expanded vocabulary and all. But you have met Trey.”
Not in any real sense. That god-awful day when she was rescued remained a blur in her mind and she refused to count it. Didn’t want it to exist, even. She returned to the real subject. “Your father was cruel.”
“Now, look—” began Angus.
“Dad.” Jancis held up a hand to stay his words. She turned back to Sally. “Dad is not cruel, but he can be insensitive when he’s on a mission. You know he likes to reunite families. It’s very important to him. He would not be doing this if there was any chance Zach’s brother—”
“Possible brother.”
Jancis grabbed the photo from Angus and waved it in Sally’s face. “Look at it.”
Sally resisted the urge to take the picture and rip it up. Instead, she pinched a corner of it in order to examine the man in the photo…and saw a lot of Zach there. God, he had the exact same dark eyes and sharp cheekbones. They looked like brothers, though their coloring differed, Zach being fairer and having freckles and red hair. She pushed out a breath.
Just because they looked like brothers didn’t mean she could waive her concerns. “Can you explain to me why Zach is reacting this way when his brother is such a wonderful guy?”
“No,” said Angus. “We’d like you to find out what is going on.”
“Oh, yes. Simple as pie after that stunt you just pulled. In case you missed it, Zach announced he wants us all to leave him alone. Now it’s going to be difficult to watch out for them during the full moon which, if you remember, was part of the plan with me staying here and keeping them safe from Hambly’s pack.”
Angus exhaled. “Yes, I’ve made it tougher for you. I apologize. However, you’re here for four months in total.”
“But why? Why pull that stunt?”
“I promised Trey,” he repeated, and Sally rolled her eyes but exerted sufficient self-control so she didn’t shout back, Fuck Trey. She needed to remind herself she liked Angus. Most of the time.
“Can I drive now?” Jancis asked. “No more screeching from either of you?”
“No more screeching from me,” Angus promised blandly.
“I’m not promising anything.” Sally slumped into her corner, still fuming, but this conversation had taken the edge off the worst of her anger.
“I’m sorry,” Angus repeated. “I mean it.” And Sally could tell he did. Not that she forgave him. Yet.
“What did you expect?” asked Sally, forcing herself to speak calmly. “When you showed him the photo?”
Angus ran a hand over his face, for the first time showing genuine regret. “I’m sure this sounds naïve now, but I thought he might be happy.”
Chapter Nine
That week of the full moon, what wolves called their moon run, had Zach moving on automatic. Thankfully Storm was distracted by their evening outings. If it had been a normal week, Zach would’ve had a hard time dissembling that all was fine.
At least Storm stuck to him like glue. Hambly’s sudden appearance under the moon last month had scared the pup enough to listen to Zach’s lectures about safety and staying close.
None of the Wolf Town wolves, including Sally, had come near them either. Though a few times he caught the faintest whiff of her, like she was in the area. He found he didn’t mind.
What shook Zach’s composure most, and dredged up bad dreams to boot, was the fact he’d seen a picture of his brother—and denied him. It had been his knee-jerk reaction, and as the days passed, he didn’t see another solution. If he admitted to having a brother to these wolves, he would have to admit to his feral years, his memory loss, and he was already being scrutinized for suitability when it came to being the guardian of Storm.
Perhaps they wouldn’t care. That thought came at him again and again. Urging him to confide in someone, to find out if it mattered to them what he was. After all, Connie knew about his lost years, and it was out of his control whether she shared the knowledge or not. However, she was tight-lipped. Her conclusion from the meeting with Angus and company had been that they would be left alone now, that Wolf Town wasn’t all bad, but she had her reservations.
She didn’t want to visit there, was dismissive of Angus’s invitation. Zach wasn’t sure that was the right tack to take. He’d prefer to see what the town might have to offer the pup. Storm needed more positive options in life. Zach worried about running under the moon and Storm taking off on him again once the attack faded from memory.
At some point Zach wanted to muster up enough trust for these wolves to make the trip, if trust was possible. He wished Angus hadn’t shown him the photo of his brother. It had thrown him completely off.
When Zach wasn’t thinking of his brother—an adult now, yet still somehow the same in the picture—Zach obsessed about Sally. He was relieved he hadn’t had to deal with her these past four days as he looked after Storm. She’d kept a respectful distance.
So why did he keep toying with the idea of going to visit her?
Among other things, he wanted to find out more about the photo, and while he wouldn’t call himself adept at ferreting out information from unwilling people, he could try the more direct appr
oach. Not admit the man was his brother, yet ask some questions about him as if he might have met him before.
Except it would give him away. Sally wasn’t stupid.
Zach scrubbed a hand over his face. This was hell. Caught in a vise, he wished he had someone to turn to and ask for advice. Instead he had to prepare for tonight’s outing. Well, at least when he was horse, his brain stopped spinning and he got a reprieve from thinking too much. It reminded him of why he’d been horse for so long in the past.
Which had him wondering what had happened to make him this way. Had he done something terrible he didn’t want to remember?
It was his biggest fear.
Despite his doubts and against Connie’s wishes, Zach took Storm to his piano lesson the following week. He couldn’t make himself stay away from Sally, not with Storm asking for the lessons. Not with his brother’s image weighing on his mind. He just had to tread carefully.
Zach let Storm ring the bell, and when Sally opened the door, she beamed at them both. He hadn’t seen this expression on her before. It was as if something came alight from within, her eyes vivid, her entire body pleased.
“I’m so glad you came,” she told Storm, yet somehow taking in Zach with that statement. “I missed you last week.”
The boy looked a little puzzled by her enthusiasm. “It’s my piano lesson today.”
“Yes, it is. Come in, come in.” She motioned them inside vigorously.
“Gramma says you’re a wolf,” Storm announced as he divested himself of his winter coat. He stared up at Sally expectantly, though Zach didn’t know what he expected.
Sally tilted her head. “I am a wolf. Like you.”
“Did you go running last week?”
“I did.”
“Can you come with us next time?”
“Well.” She glanced at Zach. “That’s not up to me.”
Storm turned to Zach, an imploring expression on his face.
“But,” she continued, “you have to ask Zach about it in private, Storm. That’s a private conversation, okay?”
“Why?”
Zach decided to go with the flow and see how Sally would handle the answer.
“Because you can both talk freely when I’m not present.”
Storm blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“Later, buddy.” Zach took the boy’s shoulder and led him towards the piano.
“What’s talking freely?”
“I’ll explain that later too.” Zach seated him on the piano bench. “Now, we’re here for lessons.”
Sally took over then, with music, and Zach had a hard time paying attention to any of it, he simply observed while the music washed over him. He recognized some of the pieces. Bach, she’d said in an earlier visit, and while it had just been so much noise the first few times he’d heard it, he was beginning to recognize the patterns.
“Zach?”
He turned towards her and got caught in her gaze. For a moment, he couldn’t speak, because there was too much he wanted to say and she was the only one he could say it to. He managed a “yes” because she’d been asking him to sit with Storm at the piano once a day, though he hadn’t been very regular about it to date.
Storm kept trying to talk to Sally about being a wolf rather than play the piano, and she guided him back to the music. For some reason, that reassured Zach. There was more at stake here than being wolves. Other parts of life also mattered.
When they were done, Storm asked her, “Do you have a mom?” He looked rather hopeful about the prospect.
Sally knelt beside him at the piano bench. “I did. Sadly, she died.”
Storm’s bottom lip went out, a slight tremble. Then he tumbled off the bench and launched himself into Zach’s arms. Storm looked back at Sally and declared, “This is my dad.”
She smiled again, as bright as when she had greeted them. “I know.”
It made Zach’s heart ache, for too many reasons to even understand.
She’d waited Zach out until he’d come to her, and he had—admittedly by bringing Storm to a piano lesson. Sally decided it counted. Now she felt comfortable dropping in unannounced on the weekend—when Storm went to his grandparents and Zach spent time alone. At least she was pretty certain he spent time alone.
It was odd, the situation new to her. She’d been attracted to men before, of course she had, but a long time ago, when she was much younger and less worn down, before it felt like wolves were only interested in her because of what she was, not who she was.
There’d been a couple of human lovers, but she’d held back on so much it had felt unsatisfactory, for her and for them. Here she was laying herself out for Zach in a way she had never done before, telling him her life story, for example. What did he make of her? She should have been mortified, and while she did carry around a little embarrassment about it, he didn’t make her feel like she’d done anything extraordinary by dropping her guard. Whatever story he had was no doubt just as difficult to tell.
She walked over at dusk, which still came early this time of year. Even though a piano teacher paying a visit to her neighbor was not a big news story, she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. She rapped at the front door and waited in the shadowed evening. He didn’t rush to answer, but he wasn’t slow either, and when he opened the door, he just gazed at her.
“Can I come in?” she asked.
He stepped back, not quite a gesture, expression solemn, and she found she wanted to learn something about him beyond this kind of seriousness he presented to the world. It might not be easy.
“Is everything all right?” he inquired.
“Oh, yes. I have no missive from Wolf Town, if that’s what you mean. I just…” She shrugged. “I thought I’d come by.”
“Why?” It was a soft question, and it didn’t make her feel unwelcome.
She thought over her answer. “It’s a bit lonely over there in the rented house.”
He nodded. “Wolves are used to pack.”
“You know, that’s one thing I wonder about. I wouldn’t say I’m used to pack, since I’ve been on my own a lot, but eight months in Wolf Town and I miss the company already.”
“You were with your mother for much of your life,” he pointed out.
They were standing in the foyer, like he’d forgotten to invite her all the way in, but he caught her looking towards the living room and backed up to lead the way there. “Something to drink? Eat?”
“I’m good right now. Had supper before I walked over. Don’t let me stop you from your meal.”
A small smile. “I also had supper. I eat early.”
Lots of shifters did, because they didn’t skip meals and they were usually hungry.
“I still had about ten years on my own. I thought that was going to be the rest of my life.” She looked at her hands. “What I wonder is why horses aren’t interested in the pack equivalent. Herds, I guess.”
When he stiffened, she wondered if he was thinking about his brother.
He reacted to the expression on her face. “Don’t look at me like that,” he told her.
“Like what?”
“As if… Pity.” He snapped the word out.
“I don’t think it’s pity. You think it is?”
Her question puzzled him. In something like resignation, he slumped to the floor beside the couch. Her wolf wanted to go over and curl up beside him, but she held herself still.
“You may not like this,” she told him, “and it may say more about me than you, but I feel like we have some things in common.”
He looked at her doubtfully, but he didn’t rebuff her.
“We each had family. They’re gone now.”
“I don’t have family,” he replied.
“You know shifters generally sense when someone is lying.”
“He’s gone,” said Zach, almost violently. “Gone from me.”
“That’s what I said, they’re gone. My mother died. I had no siblings. What happened to y
our family?”
Caught in something he wouldn’t or couldn’t speak of, he gazed at the floor, helpless.
She chose to listen to her wolf then and walked over to drop to the ground beside him. Curling up as a human, arms wound around bent knees, she leaned against him.
At contact, he pulled in a breath, held it in his chest, and she wondered if he’d move away. Instead, he let the same breath out. Breathed again, and she could hear his heart going strong, as if he was affected.
He didn’t want to push her away, despite whatever he was going through, and Sally was relieved to recognize that. While she found being the pursuer in this relationship a bracing change, a challenge, she also didn’t have a lot of self-confidence to draw upon.
“What are you doing?” he asked her.
She had never imagined being this blunt or putting herself out there so much, but it was easy with Zach. “I like you too much.”
“I just…I don’t understand why. You’re a wolf, you despise me.”
She rested her cheek against his arm. “Why would you say such a thing? That I despise you, that wolves despise you?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted. He ran a hand through his hair while keeping the rest of his body motionless, as if she might move away from him or he from her.
He was trying to tell her something. What did he mean, he didn’t know?
“There are things I forget,” she offered. “On purpose.”
He shook his head once, definitively.
“Or,” she continued, “there are shifters who forget when they spend too long in their animal forms.”
He surged up to standing, and she almost tipped over at his absence. He strode across the room, then back at her.
“Do you wish me well? Wish Storm well?”
She stared up at him and decided not to rise. “Yes. I do.”
“Then it’s best you leave and don’t come back.”
“I can’t believe that’s the best thing to do.”
“It is.”
She could feel just beneath those words the accusation that she couldn’t understand his situation, but he didn’t fling it at her. He waited.
Running Free (Northern Shifters) Page 8
