“Because Travis and I aren’t anything to each other.”
LeAnn cleared her throat and pretended it wasn’t good to hear that. Even though her heart felt lighter. “I’m really not here about Travis…at all. I found something of yours at my brother’s place, and it seemed like you might have known him. And I’m trying to figure if he really did—all that I’ve heard he did.”
“Oh.” She visibly relaxed, but she still wouldn’t make eye contact.
Okay, enough was enough.
“Why are you looking down instead of looking at me?”
Merilee froze. “Well, you’re Alpha. Travis said you were. And it feels like you are.”
She should correct her. She wasn’t Alpha of anything. But maybe Merilee might answer her questions if she acted like she had some authority. “How well did you know my brother?”
“Ross? Ross was nice, but he wasn’t ever interested in me if that’s what you’re asking. He was a little…intense.”
“Like a good intense or a ‘twist the heads off birds’ sort of intense?” LeAnn held her breath. Please let him not be the latter. He was the only family she had.
Her eyes widened again. “I don’t know. I didn’t know him so well.”
LeAnn huffed out a breath. So, the second one. If it’d been the first one, she would have said as much.
“Look,” Merilee said, almost making eye contact. “I swear, I’m not a threat to you. I’ve been thinking of pairing off with someone, but it was never going to be Travis. He doesn’t like me…like that. So even if I smell like I might be a threat—I swear I’m not.”
Inhaling and exhaling slowly, LeAnn was forced to admit, “Merilee, I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” This woman had to be one of the least threatening females on the planet. She seemed terrified that LeAnn was going to go all psycho and kill her—which maybe, considering she was related to Ross, was a fair concern. “I gotta say, I’ve never lived with Lycans, and Ross said you’ve got a bunch of hierarchy rules that were too complex to explain, but I’m not getting why you’re scared of me.”
“I’m not scared. I’m showing respect.”
Sure looked and smelled a lot like fear.
“Okay, so you weren’t…a special friend of my brother’s then.”
Merilee shook her head. “Or of Travis’s.”
She clenched her teeth. It looked like Travis had branded her among the pack as his and as Alpha—which inspired terror in this nearly naked small chick. For some reason. It was a real family environment. So this was what running with the pack felt like. There’d been times when Ross had talked about pack and she’d been jealous that he had a place in something, and he knew what it was. But if it was based on fear and intimidation and murdering those who pissed you off…maybe it was “thanks, but no thanks” time. “So you didn’t give Ross one of your bras?” It was a last-ditch question.
Merilee wrinkled up her nose. “Not that I can remember. There were a few parties that…got out of hand, but I don’t think Ross was at those.”
Great. Ross was a killer perv. He probably had her bra for its scent and not because of fond memories. It made sense in light of the other less-intimate articles of clothing he had—including the lab coat in her purse—but LeAnn had still hoped. And that hope had taken a nasty hit. Merilee had no reason to lie.
So that was it. Ross was probably a murderer. Maybe he had a reason. Maybe he didn’t. It still wasn’t right. Thou shalt not kill and all that. Dammit, Ross. You better have had a reason. He was all she had left. Her only family. It made her eyes sting with tears she wouldn’t actually cry. “Thanks, Merilee.”
She nodded—in this submissive, cowed way that made the bile rise a bit in the back of her throat. Okay, she didn’t want anything to do with being pack. This reminded her too much of herself two years ago.
“Have a good day.” And she left before the other woman had even replied. She’d planned on going and talking to the other people whose clothing she’d found—including the woman who’d visited in her furry form yesterday—but no…never mind. She got in her car and drove…and drove…down forestry roads that were edged with snow and back again. Finally, she parked at a closed trailhead and got out.
Standing in front of her car, despite the cold, she snarled and picked up a pinecone and threw it out into the forest…and then the tears came so she dropped to the ground and cried until she felt like the tears would freeze on her face and a light misting rain started falling.
It’d be dark soon.
She should probably head back to Ross’s.
Or maybe go to Travis’s.
Or she could even get the hell out of here. She could drive straight to the airport and get an enormously expensive ticket to somewhere…anywhere. Because she had no family anymore. A sob shook her. Alone. She was alone. Finding out she had a brother from her dying mother had felt like a reprieve. She wasn’t meant to be separate and misunderstood by everyone. But that hope had been a lie.
If he’d killed someone, even someone who pissed him off—because that was still wrong no matter what—Ross was dead to her.
And if Travis was right, he was dead either way, even in the unlikely scenario that he was innocent.
Ross was dead.
Her only remaining family—dead.
The genes ended here…and maybe it was just as well.
It’s not even as if she could pretend she was that much better than Ross. She’d killed someone, too. Someone she didn’t even know. A wave of blackness threatened to swallow her, and for a second, she was back in that day. Her body shivered with numbing shock and she saw the spreading blood and knew she’d taken a life. Cold. So cold. And dark. Blinking and sucking in a deep breath, she forced the memory back. This wasn’t the time or the place for another blackout and memory loss. After a few more slow, steady breaths, the beast inside her settled down.
Maybe Merilee had good reason to be scared.
She should leave. Travis had been wrong and right at the same time. He’d said following this would only lead to death, but he’d acted like acceptance was so much better of an idea. She could walk away from here and pretend that Ross hadn’t done this—that Ross was still alive—that nothing had changed. She could add this to her box of things she repressed and pretended didn’t happen.
Getting to her feet, she brushed the dirt off her butt. That’s what she’d do. She’d go pack and leave it all behind her. Lock it up in her memory box along with Clayton and all the hateful words between her mother and her. Some people were just meant to be alone. It was better that way.
Her sixth sense for direction got her back to Ross’s cabin as it was getting dark. She’d grab a few things—maybe that photo album she’d found. She’d burn the things she’d borrowed from Travis so no one could use them against him. Then she’d be gone. Florida was probably nice in late January.
Ross’s scent hit her again as she got out of the car, and she closed her eyes. No. No, it wasn’t him. It was those clothes someone had stolen. Ross was dead. He was dead. She inhaled. Male this time. Not Travis. Not Ross. She’d found a sock from this guy in her brother’s treasure trove of borrowed clothing. And the smell of ammonia was strong. Eww.
Opening her eyes, she stalked to the front door to his cabin and yanked it open…without using her key. Someone had broken in again—and peed on the front porch. Bastards.
She spun around. “I am feeling the love! You stupid, furry fangheads, I don’t want anything to do with you and your sick, twisted ‘let’s kill everyone’ world!” She was going to be hoarse from all this screaming, but she didn’t care. They should know that they were a bunch of freaks. They were all freaks. Maybe her brother would have been fine if they hadn’t warped his mind with this pack psychosis. He’d been drinking the Kool-Aid. “And it is not okay to pee on other people’s property! You sicko! Bad doggy!”
She slammed the front door behind her.
…
It was dark when
he got back to his place, and he’d been hoping she’d be there, even if he hadn’t planned on sharing what they’d found at Glacier Peak. Travis wanted to hold her so he could be sure she was okay, and to remind himself that this was worth it.
This scent-match wasn’t high on his list of favorite things right now. It could get both of them killed. Definitely not part of the life plan.
Instead of going to find her, he did what he should have done when he’d realized that someone had been at her house. He pulled up the pack’s tracking tags. He’d conned them into the high-tech and not-approved-for-human-use tags by having a few of the more popular Lycans go for it. The tattoos had been the same way. It felt a bit police state to tag and tattoo his pack, but that Glacier Peak experience of a couple years back had spooked him. There’d been a poacher among them. Even now, with the poacher threat gone, it still felt like they were being hunted.
It had to have been Ross that Black Tusk had killed. Even if they’d lost the trail of the mountain lion to the rain, it made more sense that Black Tusk had caught him rather than lost him. Ross was dead.
The tracking tags had been found to have a few serious flaws, though…ones that could be exploited. Ross had used a jammer to kill the signal—in addition to digging his own out, which must have been painful as hell. Then, there were these dead zones where the satellite dropped out. As he looked at the movement of his pack, he shook his head. Someone else was playing games. Several members of the pack had been there when they’d found Ross’s methods of getting around tracking. He wasn’t even entirely sure he knew where the jammer had gotten to.
Travis clenched his fists before loosening them on a deep exhale. This feeling that everything was spiraling out of control wasn’t entirely accurate. Partly. But not entirely.
He was Alpha. He was a genius. He could handle this.
No one had gone anywhere near Ross’s house, other than him…and then Troy today. Troy had been there a couple hours ago. That bastard. Other Lycans had been there—but they weren’t showing up. He knew they had been. Troy, on the other hand, hadn’t bothered covering his tracks at all…because that was the whole damn point. If he’d so much as touched LeAnn, screw pack law and challenges—he’d go rip out Troy’s throat right now.
He sprinted back to his truck. It was tempting to switch into form, but his truck was faster and he’d rather not be naked for a confrontation until it was necessary.
When he drove up to Ross’s, there was an eerie stillness about the place that made his throat go dry and his pulse speed up. Troy was a moron, but he wouldn’t be dumb enough to hurt LeAnn.
LeAnn’s engine was still warm. Good; she hadn’t been here when Troy had been.
He circled the cabin sniffing the air. Troy…LeAnn…and the residual scent of Ross—though it seemed oddly stronger than previous times he’d been here. Hell, when this was all over, he wanted to burn this cabin down to the studs and never smell Ross’s scent ever again. Wait…not just Troy. He snorted. Troy had pissed all over the front porch. Travis pinched the bridge of his nose. Please let LeAnn not recognize that scent. Nothing said “we’re all friends here” like a stranger peeing on your property.
The whole place was dark, and LeAnn wasn’t moving around. That didn’t seem good. Why wasn’t she moving around? Had she already gone to bed?
“LeAnn?” he asked, knocking on the back door. She’d have seen him drive up if she’d been anywhere near the front door. There was a whole slew of windows.
“Go away!” she yelled, sounding like she’d been doing a lot of yelling. Her voice was deep and scratchy, and she sounded upset.
He grabbed the doorknob and twisted…unlocked. Why hadn’t she locked the door? “I’m coming in to check on you.” He was taking a real chance on catching a knife to his liver, but he was worried enough he was going in anyway.
Well, it wasn’t a knife.
He opened the door to find her sitting at the kitchen table on the other side of the cabin with a shotgun pointed at his head and a scowl on her face.
“Is that loaded?” he asked calmly.
“Of course it’s not, dumb-ass, do I look insane?” she asked, lowering it and setting it on the table.
It was definitely not a question he should answer, but he’d had a hellish day chasing her dead homicidal brother, and tomorrow he’d have to challenge Troy. He could probably take Troy just fine, but things were known to get ugly in challenges, and whether by right or by accident, fatalities weren’t so unusual.
“Yeah, a little. You’ve already had a knife to my throat, so what’s a loaded gun?” he said, striding across the cabin. He pulled off his gun holster and set it on the table, then sat in the chair beside her. It was probably best if they were both disarmed.
Her eyes narrowed.
He folded his arms. “I thought you were coming to my place.” His concern after seeing Troy’s tag here made his words sharper than they should’ve been.
She leaned toward him, not breaking eye contact. “You are not my Alpha. You are not my mate. You are nothing to me.” He could see the tears shining in her eyes as she said it. So, she’d had a hell of a day too.
With a sigh, he got to his feet and went to the cupboard where he could smell the faint scent of dehydrated vegetables and MSG. Opening it up, he grabbed out two Cup-a-Soups.
“What are you doing?” she asked in a completely different tone, but still in that scratchy voice of hers, which now sounded as if she was fighting crying.
“Making dinner. I’ve never actually made these, but it’s probably difficult to really screw them up.” He read the directions in the dark while noticing that she didn’t seem bothered by the dark, either. Another check mark in the “she’s a Lycan” category.
Why was he still tallying these things up? He knew she was. It was one of the few things he really knew about her. She had to be a Lycan. Anything else was illogical.
“Why?”
He turned on the faucet and tried to pretend that the sink and microwave had never even shared space with the fridge in the corner. Oh, yeah, he was brave. He ought to do fine in tomorrow’s challenge. “Because you had a bad day and I had a bad day—and maybe if we’re filled with…hydrolyzed soy protein, we’ll be in a better mood to discuss it.”
“How did you know I’d had a bad day?”
He put the first container in the microwave and started it. “Because…” He stopped and inhaled. “Why does it smell like I’ve been in here before now?” It was strange. The scent was strong and fresh and had a hint of…plastic. What the hell?
“Oh, I stole some of your stuff. So, how did you know I’d had a bad day?”
He turned around in the kitchen. Yup. Spiraling out of control. Why was he denying that? He was trying to mate with someone who only made sense about one-third of the times she opened her mouth. “What do you mean you stole some of my stuff?”
She got to her feet with a sigh and walked toward him. Reaching past him, she opened up a cupboard where there was a Tupperware container with his clothing in it. “You seemed creeped out by the thought of wearing my brother’s clothes, but I figured you’d stubbornly come over here as a wolf again and refuse to get un-furry, so I swiped some of your clothes this morning. No one ever looks for things like that in a kitchen cabinet, especially if it’s in a container to keep the scent in.”
“There are two shirts in there.”
“Well, I wore one of your shirts back here.”
“I thought you ran naked.”
“Not always. Not if I’m…paying attention. Not if there are people around and a risk of indecent exposure charges. Well, mostly not then. There was this one time…” She paused and cleared her throat. “Besides, I wasn’t running.” She gave him this duh look.
Unfortunately for her, she’d strayed too close, and even with that peeved look on her face, he still wanted to hold her. He grabbed her hand and tugged her into a hug. She stiffened at first before relenting.
He squint
ed. “Is that one of my knives on top?”
“Yeah. I like your knives better. Plus I didn’t want to walk home unarmed.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and sighed, sinking deeper into his clasp. Turning her head, she laid it on his chest. And she relaxed. He’d never comforted a woman like this before. He’d never sought the warmth of another body for compassion rather than passion. The wolf inside him was soothed. All the questions and concerns could wait. The constant dialogue in his head and the cataloging of sensory input from his environment faded to a dull hum.
He could just be. There was a harmony here.
LeAnn breathed in and out, her body rubbing against his, reminding him that she was female—and his. Biology had proclaimed her his mate—his alpha female.
He tightened his arms. Hell, she felt good—like she belonged.
Maybe his day hadn’t been that bad.
No, it had. It really had. But at least he had this to look forward to at the end of a hellish day.
Travis watched the time on the microwave count down, feeling far too content for a man who might die the next day and who was about to eat crap. “You weren’t here when one of the males from my pack stopped by, were you?”
Her back went ramrod straight, and she pulled out of his arms. “No. And that’s disgusting. That’s quite a way to welcome someone. I can’t believe I even stayed here. I’ve broken a few laws in my day, but public urination was never one of them.” She stepped back.
“Don’t take it personally. It was aimed at me, not you.”
“I’m not sure much aiming happened there. The whole front porch seemed fair game.”
“No, I told them all, including Troy, to stay away from you.”
“And you’re Alpha, and none of them have any free will anymore so you expected them to obey you, even if my brother murdered their little buddy.” She took a few more steps back.
He clenched his teeth and shook his head. So much for that peace he’d felt. The accusation in her tone made his wolf side want to snarl. “Troy violated my order on purpose so I’d be forced to challenge him for my spot as Alpha.” The microwave beeped, and he turned to pull his crappy dinner out and replaced it with hers.
Crazy Over You Page 8
