“Oh! Gross! I think I’m blind!” Ember made gagging noises in his ear. “Day-amn. Don’t you people believe in clothes?”
“I need some eyes and ears.” Chase gave the wereraccoon a small shake to get his attention. Jude wasn’t having any. His greedy eyes stayed glued to the house where the bag of goodies disappeared. Chase sighed. A glance in the backseat confirmed what his nose told him. The Were had already scarfed down a couple of pounds of chocolate bars. “What if I give you your own bag?”
“Ummm. Sure. Can I pick what I want?” Jude quivered with excitement. His beady black eyes followed Chase’s single nod of acceptance. He hadn’t planned on taking any chocolate home with him anyway. For one, chocolate wasn’t healthy for canine shapeshifters. They tolerated cocoa in small, infrequent doses. The confection was on the very short list of things that might make them very ill. Second, under Diana Weis’s rule, sugar was contraband in Packhome. Being human, she couldn’t Change, but man-o-man, the woman had a gift for sniffing out junk food and tossing it out before a guy even knew what happened. Chase would be in for the ribbing of a lifetime if got around that he was out here bribing a raccoon with decent junk food. “Whatcha want me to do?” Jude asked.
“Raccoons have a way of getting in and out of places they aren’t supposed to be.” Chase indicated the SUV. “I want to know everything you and yours can find out about the Hunter.”
Jude sucked a horrified breath. His heartbeat sped up like a rabbit in flight. The stink of fear rolled off him. “Hunter? What Hunter?” Chase expected the reaction, holding tighter than ever to his quarry. “That’s way too big for a bag of candy and toys. We got to go. A Hunter won’t stop until we’re all dead. They’re like--” he cast around for the right word. “Like uber-bounty hunters.”
“That’s a pretty big word for you Jude.” Chase’s patience was beginning to wear thin and he still had two more recruitment stops to make before he headed to Packhome. “Listen to me. The Hunter isn’t looking for you.” In particular. Given the opportunity, Chase could see the Hunter dispatch Jude and call it a bonus after skulking around for so long without any bloodshed to show for it.
The wereraccoon squirmed in his unmerciful grasp. “Hunters hunt supernaturals. They don’t stop until everyone is dead.” Jude whimpered and groaned. “Oh, God. We’re all gonna die.”
Chase slammed the raccoon into the side of the vehicle, making a head and shoulder shaped dent in the fender. Calm settled over him as his fingers clenched tight around the Jude’s throat. He lowered himself until he was nose to nose with his skinny prisoner. “Listen up, you mangy Were. You owe us.” He overrode Jude’s denial. “We let you live close to wolven territory for protection against stronger supernaturals. We allowed our doctor to oversee your mate’s pregnancy and birth. And we hauled your sorry ass out of jail so you could be there to witness it.”
“I coulda done without that.” Jude gurgled. “You ever sit with a woman in labor? That’s almost as scary as the Hunter. ‘Sides, you are the ones who stole our territory in the first place.”
Chase’s smile never reached his eyes. The golden orbs chilled to calm readiness. “You care to dispute our claim?” Recognizing that this predator was far higher on the food chain, Jude’s slick sweat renewed with a fresh wave of rank fear. The wolven let him go, propping the Were up against the car. “Stay.” He opened the backseat and shoved all the leftover candy and cheap toys into one of the sacks, depositing it at Jude’s feet. “Don’t forget to call me when you find out something.”
* * * *
“Well, that was entertaining.” Perched on the passenger headrest, Ember flipped her long red hair back over her shoulder. She sent a dismissive sneer back toward the wereraccoon’s shack. “He’s lucky I let you do all the talking. I wouldn’t have been so nice.”
“Uh-huh.”
The doll sized woman cut her eyes over to him. “I could have taken him. I just didn’t feel like it. Everybody knows that you don’t mess with a brownie. Especially housebrownies.”
“Sure. Whatever you say doll.”
Fumes practically rose from the tiny woman. “That better not have been a crack about my size.”
Chase smirked. The twitch of his lips trembled in to a cough, and finally all out laugher that had her sputtering. “Darlin’ I’m a man. And if it’s one thing we males know, it’s never, ever, joke about a woman’s size.”
Without his enhanced wolven hearing, he might have missed her little huff as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, just so you know. I could have taken him.”
Another thing Chase knew, was that women always had the last say in an argument.
* * * *
India inhaled the fresh morning air. Her ears twitched at the irritated chatter of a squirrel. Giving a yip she rushed the creature snapping at its twitching tail as it scampered to the base of the nearest tree. Halfway up it turned head over tail and continued its taunting. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, laughing silently at the squirrel’s antics.
Time to leave. She needed to rouse Reggie and get ready for their shifts at the diner. She barked at the squirrel once more then bounded into a run. She couldn’t resist. So far their stay in Frankston had been quiet. A boring routine of work and home to the small garage apartment they rented from an elderly relation of Betty’s. Boring was good. She took the lack of tension to mean that she’d finally lost the Hunter.
Inside the small apartment, India let Reggie sleep while she dressed for work in the even tinier bathroom. The space barely had enough room for one, so allowing the lesser wolf a little extra sleep time gave her the luxury of space she wouldn’t otherwise have. True, she could just dominate him and run him out of her immediate area. That action felt wrong, counterproductive, since the whole purpose of rejoining the human world was for Reggie’s health and peace of mind. To make up to him some of what he’d lost. What they’d all lost.
Could the Hunter have given up? Her mind refused to let go of the idea. What if he was letting her settle, let down her guard before striking? The notion tantalized her as she leaned forward, watching own expression in the mirror while she ran the brush through the length of her straight black hair.
The female in the mirror stared back at her ugly brown polyester and all. The indecision that swirled in India’s thoughts showed in the hesitant brush strokes. Finished with her hair, she turned to place the brush back on the small shelf holding the few toiletries acquired since moving into the apartment. The movement swept her cell phone to the floor with a crack. She cursed under her breath, hoping that she didn’t wake Reggie. He really did need the extra rest.
Like the inability to stop prodding at a loose tooth, her thoughts returned to the Hunter. If he truly had abandoned the trail, they could have a normal life. Darrell and Gail’s abandonment was as final as the deaths of their pack. She ached for their loss just as she ached for the loss of the rest of her pack. Her father, her grandmother. Aunts, uncles, and cousins. The Hunter had destroyed her family as well. While she missed them all, she and Reggie couldn’t go back to pack territory.
She wondered if they could make a new place for themselves here. The phone’s plastic felt warm in her hand while a small niggling awareness that not all her family had been killed by the Hunter. India bit her lip.
Her fingers punched out the number and hit the send key. India held her breath as the phone rang on the other end. Once. Maybe the number had been changed. Twice. She was an idiot. The phone rang a third time and India held her breath as a woman’s slightly Middle Eastern accented voice answered. “Hello? Who is this?”
“Hello Mother. How are you?”
“Why have you called me? You made your decision long ago.” Annoyance sharpened Shari’s voice. The words still cut deep.
“He’s dead, Mother. I thought you might want to know.”
Shari was silent for the space of three heartbeats. Her mother’s voice could freeze boiling water. “I know. Did any of the other monsters
escape justice?”
Monsters. India blinked. Of course her mother knew of Gin’s death. They’d never divorced and her father had been strange about putting aside insurance to take care of the woman who’d despised what he was. “Your mother cannot help what she is,” Gin once told her.
“No. There is no one else,” India’s words came out in a low voice. Her throat felt raw. “Only me.”
“Where are you? Are you planning to come here?” Shari sounded worried that her only daughter might be coming for a visit.
“No. Las Vegas is a pretty busy place with plenty to do.” Unpleasant thoughts of her mother and grandfather talking to hard faced men with soft bodies crowded her brain. Part of her wanted to put the blame on them for her packfamily’s deaths. Yet, Shari was her mother. They were the only blood relatives she had left.
Her grandfather disdained having anything to do with the barbarians from the country his businesses were located. America was simply a means for him to obtain capital to send home to his extended family. While Randun Singh was a bigoted ass, she didn’t really believe he would send the Hunters on her tail. In his eyes, the psychics were as evil as the monster his daughter married.
India pushed the disconnect button before her mother asked anymore questions. She let out an oddly freeing breath. It was long past time to let go of her connection to Shari Singh Demos. The woman had ceased being her mother a long time ago. So be it. India knew almost nothing of that part of her heritage and owed the woman nothing. What she’d managed to learn from studying the internet and books, presented a culture rich in history with fascinating customs. Even the sinuous dances and costumes gave her a private thrill of pride.
India smiled as she left the bathroom to wake Reggie for work. It was only the two of them now with no one to tie them to the past, however much she missed that kind of connection.
* * * *
At the diner, India lost herself in the flow of morning customers. The scents of frying meat, coffee, and grease layered the lining of her nose. Raising an eyebrow as she caught Reggie’s grin on her return trip to drop the tip into the jar, she waited for the submissive duck of his head. Reggie grinned wider, standing his ground with shy self-assurance. “You’re humming. You’re happy.” His dark eyes danced with inner mirth as he flipped a perfect pancake high over his head. Her packbrother had become a fast showoff with his cooking skills, much to the customers’ appreciation. Accepting the applause at the bar as his due, Reggie flashed another sharp smile her way. “I like it here. We’re safe.”
She opened her mouth to dispute him when the bell over the door announced the arrival of a new customer. Her mind turned to the Hunter. Surely he would have made his move by now if he was still in the area. What was the harm in allowing Reggie his happiness? Texas was a big state with only a handful of well-behaved packs. She’d have noted any other supernaturals in the area. No, there wasn’t any harm in letting Reggie relax. None at all.
Pulling her order pad from her apron, India approached the new customer. Her footsteps faltered before she reached the table as the man eyed her with inhuman intensity. She sucked in a breath. “Tag?” she breathed, then frowned.
Other than his feral intensity, the male had little in common with her dream wolf. She avoided the expectation in his angular face. The untamed quality of his beard. His wild brown hair brushed the tops of his hard lean shoulders. The faded long-sleeved shirt looked as though it had been pulled from the bottom of a wadded pile before he’d paired it with the thin, worn jeans.
“What can I get you?” Through sheer will, she kept her hand from shaking as she faced the strange wolven male. He wasn’t her Tag, her Charles. Her next worry was that she’d treaded on a pack’s territory. No pack welcomed outsiders. Strays were given the boot fast and hard, to make the lesson stick. He conveyed the air of a loner. She couldn’t see him cozying up in a pack.
He bared his teeth instead of smiling. His dark gaze sliding contemptuously over the polyester uniform she wore. “What do you want?” His rough voice grated on her ears, the sound reminding her of a chain smoker. Or the way hers had after waiting so long to Change. “You Called me, female.” He rolled one shoulder, his gaze sliding over and dismissing Reggie as he stood up to circle around her. The wolven’s dominant aura pushed into her space, his breath an unwelcome shudder on her skin. She smelled both interest and disgust from him before he touched her. As soon as his hand slid around her waist, pulling her flush against him, he buried his nose against her neck.
Anger not her own pushed into her consciousness. The residual traces of Darrell and Gail’s packbond with her, burning bright with Reggie’s jumbled emotions. She couldn’t do this. India pushed away. She didn’t want this. In an instant, growls rent the air as Reggie came to her defense. The strange male shoved her away standing between them as he backhanded her packbrother into the counter. Customers screamed and scrambled in every direction before running for the front door.
Reggie rolled to his feet, cradling one arm, a snarl on his face. Darting between the two, she pinned a glare on the stranger. Chaining the instinct that urged an eye for an eye. The stranger’s blood for Reggie’s spilt. The others’ emotions roiled and boiled inside of her. They wanted the stranger’s blood for touching her. India held out a hand to stop her packbrother in his tracks. “No. He’s mine,” she snapped at the stranger. “ Leave him be.”
Anger at her own stupidity pulsed inside her. He was stronger than both her and Reggie. The best she could do was to bravado it out. “Go away,” she bit out the words.
“You Called me.” The intensity of the hard edged stare of the wolven stray slapped at her, making those still connected through the bond howl in fury. “The weak one will drag us down.”
Peripherally, she noted that the diner had cleared. Betty, stood in the backdoor. The manager held a long barreled gun cradled in her hands with the air of one who knows how to use it. The scent of gunpowder was a warning by itself. Reggie’s warmth at her back did more to increase her determination to protect him, than it did to reassure her. “Get out,” India growled. “The police are on their way.”
“Human police. They are nothing.” Despite the scorn in his voice, he took a step back. He glanced at the back door, then laughed. The rasp raised her hackles even further. “I will leave…for now.” He flicked a dismissive glance over Reggie. One that said her packbrother was living on borrowed time. “You Called me to mate, female. I intend to hold you to that promise.” Without another look backward, he strolled out the door and around the corner of the building.
“Betty!” India dove for the back room. Instead of finding the stranger sneaking up on the diner’s manager, the older woman had the rifle pointed out the back door. She glanced in India’s direction.
“He took to the woods.” Waiting a moment before lowering the weapon, Betty nodded. “Stupid bastard. He don’t belong here.”
India narrowed her eyes. The overwhelming scent of gunpowder had a tinge of…silver?
Reggie eased into the back room. “Betty? You okay?” His worry for the older woman evident in his face and through the fading intensity of their pack bond.
“Oh, dear.” The woman clucked, brushing past India as if she didn’t exist. The human’s hands fluttered in the air around Reggie. “Goodness, that’s a nasty break.” She enfolded the slight male into her expansive embrace. “India, you get the mess cleaned up in there. I’ll get him settled and head off the sheriff.”
With that, India blinked. She almost protested, but stopped herself with a glance at the rifle. Then she remembered Betty’s humanity. “No. Wait. He can’t go to the hospital.”
Betty stopped, favoring her with an indignant huff. “Well, what kind of idiot do you suppose I am, girl? Of course he can’t go to the hospital. In my day, I’ve tended to worse than this. Besides, Hunters always have a spy there, just in case.”
India’s mouth dropped as she watched her employer cuddle her packbrother out the back door and
into her old Buick to set his arm. Strangely, India trusted Betty to take care of Reggie while she called in a couple of other waitresses to cover for them.
Reggie felt safe here? India smoothed her shaking hands over the brown polyester once more. Dread tightened her stomach as the other bonded presence didn’t fade as Reggie’s had. No, this presence wasn’t happy to have escaped the stranger’s attack. He was furious at her and God help her, he was coming. And he wasn’t Darrell. She’d gotten them into a far bigger mess than just one lone Hunter. Not just wolven ran in packs. There were much more dangerous groups out there. Like say, the psychic communities that hated everything supernatural. And of course something she’d unwittingly riled up.
* * * *
Setting the cup of water carefully on the cup holder so as not to mar the wood coffee table, India crouched to inspect Reggie curled up on Betty’s couch. Both the couch and the blanket covering her packbrother were painfully floral, matching the busy knick-knack filled space that was her employer’s house. Reggie whined in his sleep as India brushed his lank hair off his face. The big bandage wrapped splint made a huge lump under the blanket. Studying the clutter made it easier to ignore her guilt. Though nothing was able to distract her from the other, stronger presence in her bond.
“I’ve got some herbal tea for you.” Betty set a coffee mug down on another coaster littered table before she settled her bulk into the recliner facing the couch. Pointedly, she looked at the other recliner opposite hers. The overstuffed chair and the tea sitting beside it, sounded wonderful. India shook her head, thankful that she’d changed into one of her two pair of jeans, and sat on the floor beside Reggie.
Betty frowned, taking a swig of her own tea. “Punishing yourself isn’t going to make it better.”
“He wouldn’t have gotten hurt if not for me.” India resisted the urge to pet Reggie’s hair. For all she’d done to keep her pack safe, she was reluctant to grill the one person who’d shown them kindness. Still, Betty could be a danger to them.
Creature Comforts Page 8
