Unpredictable (Waifwater Chronicles Book 2)

by Laken Cane

  “I know what it is, Mother,” Abby told her. She stepped back against the warmth of the alpha, relaxing when he put his arms around her.

  Sadie and Elmer sprawled into the grass at her feet and went promptly to sleep. They were hungry and tired and Abby wanted nothing more than to get them home, but first…

  “What is it?” Basilia asked, peering at her. “Are you terribly hurt, Abby? Come, let’s get you doctored and fed. I will cook you a steak, Eli.”

  Eli flashed Basilia a smile that, while affectionate and genuine, was just the slightest bit forced. “Another time.” He looked down at Abby, his stare eating up her face. “I cannot wait to get you home.”

  Abby fanned herself as heat climbed her throat and suffused her cheeks. “I…” She cleared her throat. “I look forward to that as well, Alpha.”

  And finally, it began to sink in. They’d done it.

  It was over.

  Eli was home.

  They were all home.

  Even her father.

  Trace hadn’t appeared, so they’d left without him.

  It was, Jewel had said, his decision. He’d find the door when he was ready. He was a shadow wolf. He could find anything.

  Abby had a feeling they hadn’t seen the last of him.

  Then Henry stepped out from behind the tree. His face was pale and he looked more afraid than Abby had ever seen him look. Not even facing Acadia had caused such a reaction.

  Abby left the warm shelter of Eli’s arms and grasped her mother’s shoulders. “Mama,” she said, quietly, “Look who came back with us.”

  And she turned Basilia to face Henry.

  Basilia stared, not making a sound, then her legs gave out. She would have fallen but Eli was there, supporting her, and for what seemed like an eternity, there were no sounds in the pocket.

  Then Henry sprinted toward her. “Basi,” he cried. “My Basi.”

  Basilia stumbled toward him, disbelieving, unable to quite understand what she was seeing. “Are you real?” she murmured, once.

  Abby backed once more into the circle of her alpha’s arms, her smile wide, her cheeks wet with tears. Had she ever been so happy? No. No, she had not.

  Her parents collided and then sank to the ground, sobbing one minute, laughing the next, first murmuring, then shouting, and finally, they fell silent and simply stared into each other’s eyes.

  “Sadie, Elmer,” Abby said, wiping away her tears. “Wake up. It’s time to go.”

  And with the hounds leading the way, leaping and darting, their tongues lolling as they played, Abby and the alpha walked to Basilia’s house to clean up, dress their wounds, and find something to eat.

  In the yard of Basilia’s cottage, Abby stopped walking abruptly and stared at Eli with wide eyes.

  He frowned. “What’s wrong?”

  “Eli,” Abby cried, and launched herself into his arms. “We did it!”

  He crushed her to his chest, laughing, then buried his big hand in her hair and held her immobile while he kissed her.

  She forgot everything else—the council, the pack, the trouble they would still face—and she lost herself in his touch, his kiss, his heart. It had been so very long.

  “My witch,” he said, finally coming up for air. “Thoughts of you were the only thing that kept me sane in there.” He pulled back and stared down at her. “So fucking beautiful.”

  “Oh,” she said, delighted, and touched her cheek. “My face is still my true face?” She hadn’t thought to wonder, or ask.

  He frowned, confused. “I seem to see an overlay of your cursed face, but now that I’ve seen your true face, I can’t unsee it.” He hesitated. “But the false face looks different.”

  She lifted her chin. “That’s all I care about. That you can see me.”

  “Witch,” he said, softly. “I could always see you.”

  An hour later they’d finished doctoring each other’s wounds and sat at the table, eating sandwiches Jewel had thrown together for them, much to Abby’s surprise, waiting for Basilia and Henry to come home.

  Eli laughed at something Jewel said, and Abby paused with a bite of food halfway to her mouth. She shuddered as a finger of ice ran over her spine.

  “Goose walk over your grave?” Jewel asked, curious, but watchful.

  “Yes,” Abby murmured. “I think so.”

  She couldn’t have said why she was suddenly afraid, but something was coming.

  “Acadia,” Jewel said.

  Abby gasped. “What?”

  “She was telling me how you fought the witch’s demons alone,” Eli said, his eyes dark. “Did my pack leave you defenseless while I was being held, Abby?”

  “They had no choice,” she told him. “They couldn’t help me. I put them in danger because I wouldn’t leave them be.”

  “He needs help,” Jewel said.

  Abby put a hand to her chest. “Eli does?”

  “Trace does,” Jewel answered, not looking at them.

  Abby frowned. “Jewel—”

  “Remy is at the door,” Jewel interrupted.

  Eli stood. “My wolf?”

  Abby stood as well. “Finish your meal, Jewel. Eli and I will go fetch his wolf.” She smiled and looped her fingers through his. “She is going to be so happy to see you. They all are.”

  He squeezed her fingers, his stare nearly hot enough to send her up in flames. “I need to get you home. Say goodbye to your sister, Abby.”

  She shivered beneath his passion. “Goodbye, Jewel,” she whispered. She’d been craving his body from the moment she’d sent him away so she could think. No more delays. They were both desperate to lose themselves in each other.

  To forget.

  And maybe, at least for him, to pretend for a little while that he wasn’t different. That life wasn’t different.

  And that he hadn’t been devastated by the three hags Abby had killed—and in ways he would never admit to her.

  But she knew.

  Still, the alpha was not less, and he would work through it. He would defeat his demons. Eventually.

  He kept her hand as they strode down the path toward the door, the door behind which Remy waited.

  “Go ahead,” Abby murmured, at last, her palm on the door.

  Remy hesitated, then, “It’s Remy,” she said, slowly, perhaps realizing Abby’s whispered voice did not belong to Basilia. “Let me in.”

  Abby pulled the door open, then stepped back.

  Remy stared at Abby, opened her mouth to question her, then caught sight of the alpha.

  Her face lost its color, she gaped, breathless and disbelieving, then staggered into Eli’s arms.

  Neither of them said a word.

  Abby stood back, her hands clasped, tears once again springing to her eyes. Wolves were different. They could be brutal and vicious and…well, gross, at times. But they lived their lives with such passion. They loved and grieved and fought and killed with every part of themselves.

  Sometimes they didn’t say a lot, and usually kept their emotions—their softer emotions—under a tight control.

  But they’d been hurt and humiliated by their council, tossed away like garbage, and their pack had been nearly destroyed. They’d thought their alpha was lost to them forever.

  Remy hadn’t really believed Abby could save Eli.

  Finally, they stepped back from each other, both regaining their control. “Alpha,” Remy said, her voice hoarse. She swiped angrily at her eyes. “Thank God.”

  He smiled and reached out to cup her cheek. “Thank Abby,” he said, gently.

  She glanced at Abby. “Every day for the rest of my life.”

  Abby dabbed at her own eyes. “Shall we go home?” she asked, at last.

  What came would come, and they would meet it head on. But they had each other, and if there had ever been any doubt in Abby’s mind, it was gone.

  He was hers, and she was his. She’d never wanted anything more.

  Eli nodded. He offered them an arm,
and together, the three of them stepped through the door.

  Out of the woods, out of the pocket.

  Home.

  Truly, finally home.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  She stared into the mirror, tracing the overlay of her disfigured face. As she and Eli were different, so was her cursed face.

  Acadia’s spell hadn’t disappeared with her end—the cursed face was still there. But it was not the same.

  Her eyes were long and narrow below the straight, dark slashes of her eyebrows. Her nose was slightly hooked, her lips curved in a grim, angry scowl. Her cheekbones were high and sharp, her chin jutted and strong.

  She looked the way a sorceress should look. At least that was what she told herself.

  An ugly, cursed sorceress, perhaps, but it was not a cruel face, and she could live with it. She might even come to appreciate it.

  She smiled at her reflection, but in the mirror, the smile was a leer that would likely terrorize small children.

  She sighed.

  Eli hadn’t mentioned his back to her, but she was sure he’d seen it. One of his pack would have asked him about it.

  She would wait for him to broach the subject. She certainly wasn’t going to bring it up, just as she hadn’t brought up the subject of his half-brother, Mel.

  But she had a feeling Mel was hunting demons in Waifwater Woods. Perhaps he would run into Becky Bates there. The woods had become a convenient prison, of sorts. A place to send criminals Waifwater didn’t want to kill but couldn’t keep around.

  Elmer gave a quick, sharp bark, and Abby knew Eli was coming. Her heart began to pound as she rushed from the house. He’d had a new meeting with high ranking officials in the council that morning, and she hadn’t heard a word all day.

  He hadn’t gone to the meeting alone—his entire pack had gone with him, as had their allies, the crow shifters. He had friends, and they were not about to let him face the council alone.

  He’d invited Abby to go, but she’d been too afraid her presence would hurt his chances of receiving a rule reversal, so she’d stayed home. She’d paced the floor, her stomach in knots, as she’d waited for word.

  She jumped off the porch, her chest easing when she saw Eli driving up the long, dusty road toward her house. She paced the yard, back and forth, back and forth, until finally Eli parked the car and got out.

  She flew into his arms, then began covering his face with kisses as he laughed at her. He set her on her feet, finally.

  “Tell me,” she said. “Tell me, Alpha.”

  He ran his hand over his face, and she saw a couple of new lines that hadn’t been there before the council. Before the woods.

  Before her.

  “They refused to overturn the rogue status,” he said. “But they’re punishing the panel who threw me into the woods. They didn’t believe that at first, Abby. Then they were full of questions. More of the day was spent with them trying to figure out how I escaped the woods than deciding my punishment.”

  “You didn’t—”

  “Of course I didn’t.”

  She grinned. “I know.” Then she dropped her smile, but really, it was difficult to be too upset when he was standing there with her. Alive. With her. “Go on.”

  “Bottom line, I’m still rogue, without a council. But I’m not exiled. I can keep those wolves who want to stay with me—and they all want to stay with me. With us.” He smiled and waited for her to ask.

  “For how long?” she whispered.

  “Until you and I are no longer together. So forever, Abby. My pack and I will be without a council forever.” He gave her a slow, sexy smile that made her shiver.

  Elmer rammed his nose into Eli’s leg, then gave a mighty shake and began running in circles, trying to catch his tail.

  He stopped, grinning, when Eli and Abby laughed.

  Eli knelt. “Come here,” he told the hounds.

  “Eli, they’ll get your suit dirty,” Abby admonished, but he only grinned.

  “They protected the love of my life in Waifwater Woods. They can get me as dirty as they want.”

  Abby stared down at him, unable to breathe.

  The love of my life.

  Eli glanced up, still smiling, then froze at the look on her face. He stood. “Abby.”

  She said nothing. Love of my life.

  In Waifwater Woods, she’d told him she loved him.

  He hadn’t replied.

  Sure, they were just words. But…

  “Abby,” he said, again, taking her shoulders. “Did you think I didn’t love you?”

  “I…” She swallowed, then looked away. “I wasn’t sure. You never really said anything.”

  “How could you not know?”

  She tilted her head. “Do you mean to say…”

  He took a step back and ran his hand over his face. “You’re my heart, Abby.”

  She squinted. “So you’re saying…”

  He gave a shout of laughter, then scooped her up into his arms. He whirled her around until she was dizzy, then set her on her feet and kissed her hard, which made her even dizzier.

  “I love you, Witch,” he said, finally, tenderly. “Of course I love you.”

  True love.

  True love hadn’t broken the spell, and it hadn’t given her back her face. That happened only in fairy tales.

  But she no longer cared.

  She had everything she wanted.

  And she didn’t need a pretty face to keep it.

  Note from the author—

  I hope you enjoyed this second installment of the Waifwater Chronicles.

  Waifwater Woods is a pretty fascinating place, isn’t it?

  If you didn’t recognize the cowboy who made a cameo appearance in this book, then you probably haven’t read my Rune Alexander series. You should rectify that! I hear it’s addictive. It’s an urban fantasy series, and much darker than the Waifwater Chronicles. I’ve included the first chapter of Rune Alexander book 1, Shiv Crew, at the end of this book.

  While I’ve got you here, I have a favor to ask you. If you enjoyed this book, would you please go to Amazon and give it a review? Even the tiniest “I loved this book!” is helpful. Of course, going into detail is never a bad thing either!

  Also, don’t forget to leave a review for Unbreakable, book one in this series. I’d appreciate it greatly!

  I should mention We, the Forsaken, too. It’s book one in a paranormal post-apocalyptic series, and if you like my other books, I really think you’ll like WtF.

  Oh, and if you miss me before the next book, whether it’s from this series or one of my others, you can always come say hello to me on Facebook, and visit me on my website. I still have the old Blogger, but I built a brand new website recently. It also has a blog.

  Thanks, guys! I’ll see you next time…

  Laken

  Shiv Crew, Rune Alexander series book 1 sample

  Chapter One

  Rune Alexander commando-crawled closer to the fence. A sharp stick poked her ribs but a little pain was the least of her worries. It was hard to slide over the frozen, uneven ground when she had two guns holstered at her hips and a blade in each of the five sheaths strapped to her body, but she had no choice.

  She held up a hand and made a forward motion, then waited for Jack and Z to move up beside her.

  The moon gave enough light to see by—a very good thing considering she couldn’t stand up and flash a light at the small group in the middle of the cornfield.

  RISC—Spiritgrove’s Regional Investigations of Supernatural Crimes unit—would demand pictures, and she had to play by the rules. She gave a quick nod to her left, and Z readied his telescopic camera to get a couple of shots. There’d be no flash to give them away. The pictures would be grainy, but they could be enhanced later if there was trouble from one of the ever-present Other rights and protection groups.

  “How many?” she whispered. “Six?”

  “Eight,” Jack replied. He tried to whi
sper, but it was like he was too big to whisper. His voice was a low rumble.

  Good enough.

  Then someone began to scream, and she had to force herself to remain calm. She couldn’t afford to fuck up.

  RISC’S captain, Jeremy Cross, had pulled her into his office before she’d left to have a quick talk. Technically, she answered to him. RISC trumped SCRU. Shiv Crew was just Spiritgrove’s criminal recovery unit.

  “You get something for me tonight, Rune, or I’m pulling Shiv Crew off this case and sending someone else out.”

  Yeah, he was getting heat from Bill Rice, the police director, but she was doing everything she could. He knew she always did.

  The murderers could be any one of the many supernatural groups populating the world, but she’d bet it was either rogue vamps or wolves. They were the groups with the biggest balls.

  “Z, check the fence.”

  He pulled a tiny electric fence indicator from his many-pocketed vest and tested the fence. “Nope.”

  “Awesome.” But they needed to get past the fence without anyone noticing them. The same moon that worked for them was working for the dirtbags on the other side as well.

  She was the leader of her little crew, and she’d go first. Always. When she took on new members, she gave them one chance to get that right. If the words, But you’re a woman. Let me take point, were ever spoken, that person was history.

  “Going through,” she murmured. “You know what to do.” Of course they did. Neither man was a rookie.

  They all stood, carefully, and the men held the barbed wires apart so she could climb between them. She helped when it was Z’s turn, but Jack was so big he got stuck on the barbs. They clung to him like greedy lovers, and she sighed as she waited for him to quietly extract himself.

  Jack was a proud sort. He stared at her with narrowed eyes as they crept closer to the group, waiting for her to smirk or be a smartass.

  She ignored him and pulled her guns—handguns loaded with special silver bullets designed to take down the monsters. The silver exploded within the body, doing horrendous damage as the melting fragments raced through the bloodstream. Big or small, were or vampire or shifter, silver kicked paranormal ass.