Half-Breed

Home > Other > Half-Breed > Page 18
Half-Breed Page 18

by Marcia Colette


  Keeping me close, he whispered, “You sure you're up to this?"

  "As long as it's not an inquisition,” I whispered back.

  Chuckling, he clasped his hand in mine and we entered the living room together.

  Evan greeted me first. He encircled his massive muscles around my shoulders. I thought for sure he'd hurt me, but like the others, he was careful of my injury. Vaughn stepped up and tapped him on the shoulder. Ignoring him, Evan smiled an enormous grin, mumbled his objection, and tightened his hold. Vaughn leaned forward and muttered something ominous in his ear. Evan let go and backed away with his hands raised. Shaking his head and smiling, Matt guided me toward the couch.

  Two unfamiliar faces sat in attendance. They looked like the last two people in the world who I would have chosen as the Alpha Pair. Okay, maybe I was being a little hasty. Uh-huh.

  Isabella sat in the center of the couch with long black hair sculpting her face. Perfect cheekbones and a wonderful smile displayed a string of pearly teeth. Her dark eyes narrowed to slits. Her golden tan complexion looked natural, but I could have been wrong. And good lord! Where she did get that top? Two guesses: Fredericks of Hollywood or Prostitute Monthly. The corset top barely covered her voluptuous breasts. Her sensual voice alone could have earned her a spot on the phone-sex hotline.

  As for Seth, he looked stiff and uncomfortable being the only one in the room wearing a sport jacket. He had a manicured black beard around his mouth and up the lining of his jaw, and his hair combed away from his face. Speaking of which, a solemn look etched his visage and coursed through his penetrating dark eyes. When I picked up on the British accent, his uptight demeanor made sense. Thank goodness my UK friends were quite the opposite. I guess being the Pack Alpha, he felt he had an image to uphold and couldn't afford to let something as trivial as joviality crack his stolid exterior.

  Isabella greeted me with a warm handshake, holding my hand a little longer than necessary, whereas her husband gave a quick jerk with a bone crushing grip. Between his cold handshake and a thin line across his pink lips, this was the first time I had second thoughts about the company we would keep. Talk about screwing up your first impression. Then again, who I was to throw stones about first-time meetings? The last time they came to our house, Matt and I ended in a knockdown drag out.

  After some idle chitchat, Matt excused himself into the kitchen to prepare the dishes for serving. I followed.

  "What are you doing?” he asked, grabbing a huge salad from the refrigerator and clutching three different kinds of dressing in the other hand. “One of us should be in there keeping the company company."

  "Don't get me wrong,” I said, closing the door behind him. “But I don't want to be alone with those people."

  He laughed. “You know everyone out there except for Seth and Isabella. There's nothing to be afraid of and nobody's going to hurt you."

  "Unless you hurt us first,” Isabella said, appearing at the entranceway.

  "Good luck.” Matt kissed me on the cheek and strolled out of the kitchen.

  The creep. I should have smacked him upside the head for leaving me along with her. This wasn't just the boss we were entertaining. These people would dictate our future and the role we would play in their tight family unit. I hated the idea of letting someone have that much power over me, but I promised myself I'd do whatever it took to make sure our children grew up in a safe environment.

  Isabella leaned on the opposite side of the island, her arms extended to the sides. A pair of opalescent eyes drilled into mine, though a smile splayed her face.

  "There's no sense in trying to hide out in the kitchen,” she said, her voluptuous, motherly voice peeling away my anxiety.

  "I made a fool out of myself in front of everyone,” I confessed. “Having you here in my house again, I feel as though I should crawl down the evolutionary chain."

  "And once you've crawled back to civilization, do you think it will make things better?"

  "No. I'd still feel like a fool every time I saw you.” I folded my arms and leaned against the island across from her. “Good lord ... You saw us at our worst and you still came back. Why are we so important to you? You should be kicking us out of your territory after we sneaked in here and set up house the way we did. I'm sure I've given you more than enough ammunition over the past few days to think twice about us not being troublemakers. Not that we are. Well, not under normal circumstances, anyway."

  A half-smile splayed Isabella's lips. “It sounds as though you've been beating yourself up over the past few days. Plus, you're a woman after my own heart. But don't get me wrong. What you did was irresponsible and foolish. Not to mention dangerous, sneaky, self-centered, childish ... Need I go on?"

  "If you want. You've had the upper hand since you knew we were here."

  Her eyebrow arched. “Then you've learned a few things after all. But that doesn't get you off the hook."

  "Then what will?"

  "How about keeping your nose clean, for starters? We knew you guys had issues the day we got that tip about your mate being a crooked lawyer. Two years and no conflicts. That's remarkable by our standards. That's why we chose to work with you. But when you take off by yourself, thinking you can handle anything that comes your way, it's inexcusable."

  "I didn't mean to—"

  "What happens next time? We've got too much invested in our anonymity to risk your wanting to settle scores on your own. No one is a lone gun in this pack. There's a strict hierarchy enforced and nobody is exempted from the rules. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Yes. B—"

  "The next time you go gallivanting around on a save-the-world crusade, you tell someone what's going on. Not hoard information that could be detrimental to all of us. I don't give a damn about this Parry person or what favor he thinks he's done for us by giving you two away. But if he sticks his fat ass in our business ... I'll be more than happy to lop off a butt cheek. Any more problems and the same goes for you."

  After that can of whoop-ass, I wasn't sure what to say. Sure, I heard everything she said and wholeheartedly concurred—including that part about chopping my ass off—but how should I respond? Should I respond at all? I opted for keeping my mouth closed and lowered my eyes. When in doubt, play the submission hand.

  Isabella sighed. “I told Seth that I had to be the one to chew you out. After all, it's my job to keep the females in line."

  I met her gaze again. “Not meaning to brown-nose, but you do one hell of a job at it."

  "Thank you. Now we can move on with the rest of the evening and you can feel comfortable in your own home again.” Isabella picked up a covered pasta dish, batted an eyelash, and left the kitchen.

  If I fell out of line again, I'd get the next flight out of town to keep from finding out what she would do. The well-mannered person I had met in the living room had been replaced by a woman who could cow me with a mere scowl. I experienced firsthand what true dominance meant by the way her dark eyes drilled straight down to my soul and left me shaken. Isabella went beyond earning respect. She demanded it. Being the Alpha Female gave her that right and she exerted it to the fullest. That earned my respect not only for her place in the pack, but more so for her willingness to protect what she loved.

  The rest of the evening held laughter and fun-filled conversation at the table. Seth hardly broke a smile when the conversation called for it, but instead maintained a private discussion at the end of the table with Matt. His stoic presence reminded me of a nun during my one and only year of Catholic school. Seth would have been right at home, rapping knuckles and knees when people fell out of line. With my husband sitting at the head of our table and him being the closest to him, from time to time Seth would tap Matt on the forearm or simply mumble something that kept a dialogue going between them. It didn't bother me. I had Isabella and Aiyana at my end of the table to keep me company.

  When dinner finished, everyone retired to the living room for more talk and dessert. The werewolves s
at in silence, stuffing their faces with either chocolate cake or sweet potato pie. My gorged stomach couldn't take another bite, so I basked in a cup of spiced chai.

  I turned to Isabella and said, “You never answered my question."

  She finished munching a forkful of pie. “Which was...?"

  "Why do you really want us to join your pack?"

  Everyone stopped and stared. Okay, maybe I should have waited until they had their fill and then brought up the subject. Better yet, maybe I shouldn't have said anything at all.

  Seth sipped his tea then asked with that haunting British accent, “Does it matter, Ms. York?"

  "Just a question. If you don't want to answer, then that's fine. I was only curious.” I sipped the chai, hoping he would leave it alone.

  "So am I,” he replied. “Why should it matter?"

  I placed my cup on the coffee table. “Let me be frank—"

  "Please don't,” Matt interrupted. “The last time you spoke your mind I thought we'd get run out of the state before we could get back home."

  Stephan and Aiyana exchanged a look and snickered.

  "No,” Seth said, “let her continue."

  "Well, my husband and I want to join the pack because we're lonely and we want to have that sense of family again. A stable environment where we can raise our children. You guys seem to have it all. A nice den—from what I hear. A successful business, a tight-knit pack. What in the world would make you guys so attracted to us? And don't say it's my delicious scent, either. I've gotten an earful from Stephan already."

  "You hittin’ on my wife?” Matt had a playful smirk tugging his dimples.

  Stephan chuckled. “Who can resist?"

  "You son of a—"

  Matt leapt off the floor and tackled Stephan to rug. Their playful wrestling had plenty of destructive potential to worry me; at least, my human half thought so. I picked up my cup and retreated to the dining room where I could sit in peace. Ignoring the two oversized children, everyone walked around them, retreating to either the dining room or the kitchen. When I heard a whack, I shuddered. Matt would be okay, but he forgot we rented this fully furnished home. As the saying went, “you break it, you buy it.” Isabella and Seth followed me, him taking the seat at the head of the table and her sitting next to me.

  Jerking my head toward the commotion in the living room, I said, “In terms of our loneliness, need I say anymore?"

  "No,” Seth replied, and sipped his tea.

  "Then why are you guys so willing to take us in?” Another thump wreathed me in annoyance.

  "My turn to be blunt. Your husband possesses a rare commodity among our kind. We tend to stay away from high pressure jobs because of our volatile personalities. It's no secret that we're highly strung at times.” He glanced sideways towards the ruckus in the living room.

  "So that's all Matt is? A valuable piece of merchandise?"

  Isabella placed her hand on mine. “There's more to it than that. My husband is only giving you a quarter of it. You and Matt together are a rare breed. It takes incredible strength to survive all the obstacles you two have faced. You two complement each other in ways I can't begin to imagine."

  "Barring recent events,” Seth interjected, “you're an excellent example of a mated pair. Some think a strong pack is one that subsists on money and power. I've pushed our pack to think in terms of the old ways. The ones that have helped our people survive for thousands of years. Where things like family, knowledge, and adaptability are like gold. You and your husband are the embodiment of that. We need more resolute mated pairs such as you two."

  "Does that mean Matt and I are in?” I asked. Another thwack gutted me. I whirled around in my seat and shouted, “Would you guys knock it off? We're renting. When we get in our own home, you two can break all the furniture you want."

  Matt and Stephan froze in place and mumbled apologetic responses. When they untangled their limbs and stood, I turned my attention back to the Alpha Pair.

  "You're not in yet.” Seth took his time sipping his tea again before continuing. “We're not big on ceremonial tasks. However, we do believe in having some order when it comes down to integrating strays into our pack."

  "We're inviting both of you to stay a couple of days at the den,” Isabella added. “It makes the transition easier for everyone concerned."

  "How many people live in your den?” Matt asked, huffing his way to the dining room table.

  "Twelve,” Seth replied. “One mated pair lives in Savanna, managing a smaller spa facility there. They come up twice a month. Sometimes more. The others live in Vinings, Marietta, Roswell, et cetera."

  "Where's your den?” I asked.

  "In Legare. The den belongs to everyone, whether they live there or not. For the ones who don't live there and can't find a safe place to change, they know the den is always available. We own more than three hundred acres of unspoiled woodlands."

  "I run my interior design business out of my home in Roswell,” Aiyana said. “Granted it's minutes from the den, I—"

  Stephan ensnared her from behind and smacked a kiss against her cheek. “Hardly a day goes by without her having company. As a matter of fact, we're all trying to convince her to move back to the den."

  "Why?” I asked, glancing to Matt—my teacher—for an explanation.

  "Because it's not good for a female wolf to live alone,” Isabella said, slightly miffed and cutting a quick glare at Stephan. “I understand the need for independence and wanting to exert your own will. But being who we are, I fear for my females. A rogue can come at any time and try to snatch her up for their own."

  Seth cleared his throat. “Those who move out are always welcomed to move back if they feel the need."

  "Have you ever excommunicated anyone?” I didn't want to ask the question, but I needed to know. With the turns my life took, I wanted to be prepared for the worst.

  "Yes."

  "Why?"

  "I'd prefer not to discuss it."

  Isabella cut her eyes to Seth before answering. “We excommunicate people for many reasons, Alexa. The most popular ones center on disobeying orders, acts of betrayal, causing trouble. Anything that endangers us."

  "Do you let them back in?” I asked.

  "It depends. Sometimes yes, most of the time no."

  "Then you guys are certainly different."

  "Not really,” Seth said. “We're the same as everyone else, only a little more open-minded. However, when it comes down to endangering our existence, we're not. I have no qualms about pitching you to the road or worse if the situation presents itself."

  Several people cocked an eyebrow and stared in my direction. Having heard enough, I nodded and left for a chai refill.

  Chapter 24

  The town of Legare sat ten miles northeast of our Atlanta address. Considering the area, it didn't surprise us. It had wide open spaces, lots of strip malls in addition to a large two-story mall, and an estimated population of 50,000 people. It wasn't so big that it sent the pack running for cover, nor was so small that everyone knew your business. Those that liked the night life could be in the city in less than thirty minutes and those that liked solitude could find it at the den.

  We pulled up to a twelve-foot wrought iron gate, complete with spikes at the top. The pack's home sat far off the public road with a high stone wall to keep nosy visitors out. A security camera sitting on the corner of the high wall whirred to life, the lens zooming in on us. Putting on a friendly smile, I waved at the person sitting at the end of the camera feed. Matt gently grabbed hold of my hand and patted it down on my lap. It was my turn to get back at him for all his teasing. The wrought iron gate parted down the middle. Vaughn's deep voice instructed us to drive up the long driveway and park in the cul-de-sac in front of the house.

  Everything Aiyana told me about their home never quite prepared us for the three-level monstrosity when we arrived. After seeing the rogue den in North Carolina, calling this place a den was blasphemous. The En
glish Tudor style home had the makings of a high society boarding house for the spoiled rich. Multiple angled roofs crowned the top of a grayish-tan stone mansion. It featured fourteen bedrooms, ten baths, a manicured lawn, and an enormous backyard, and the closest neighbor was more than a half mile away. And to think that they planned on adding another addition. Sheesh.

  Vaughn and Aiyana stood outside, waiting at the bottom of the slated steps. The moment Matt turned the ignition off, Vaughn popped my door open. He immediately took my hand and kissed the back of it, his eyes locking onto mine. In other words, “no funny business while you're here.” Needless to say, I planned to take that to heart.

  He guided me to Aiyana's loving hug. I considered her a safety zone at that point.

  Matt sauntered around to the back of the Land Rover and greeted Vaughn with a back thumping hug. The guys took the bags out of the trunk as Aiyana and I headed arm in arm up the stone porch. Our escorts guided us through a front door so wide that a baby grand piano could fit with inches to spare.

  The interior was as astonishing as the exterior. A bright shine decorated the oak flooring and a grand staircase sat beyond the foyer. Ivory wallpaper decorated the textured walls and a montage of photographic art trailed to the upper floors. To the right of the staircase a long hall wrapped from the front of the house to the back. On the left was another hallway with vibrant golden sunlight gleaming from one end of the corridor to the other. Voices volleyed just outside the walls of the grand home, as Vaughn explained everyone was out back. I approached the steps and stretched my neck upward at the angled staircase leading to the other floors, both drenched in sunlight. Every piece of wood lent a tinge of lemon freshness in the air.

  "Someone sure likes photography,” Matt said. “Pretty good, too. Like a modern day Ansel Adams."

  "That would be my wife,” Vaughn said.

  "Whoa! Back up.” I whirled around so fast that the dizziness caught me by surprise. “You're married?"

 

‹ Prev