Wolf Out of Water: Mythic Series, Book 4

by Abbie Zanders

  And it wanted the Alpha. Her Alpha.

  But ultimately, it changed nothing. Jessie wanted the Alpha, too. She wanted to have a choice. She wanted Lucas to set his sights elsewhere. She wanted her family to be safe and unharmed. People in Hell wanted ice water. Of those things, only one was possible.

  In three days, she would return to her home. She would formally kneel at Lucas’ feet and offer herself to him. Barring a miracle or an act of God, he would accept her, but he wouldn’t make it easy on her. Knowing Lucas, he would make a big show of it. More than likely she’d have to prove her worthiness to the rest of the pack by fighting other she-wolves hungry for the Alpha female position.

  That wasn’t a problem. She knew, as did Lucas, that she could best any female in his pack. Even if that wasn’t the case, losing wasn’t an option. Lucas had already made it perfectly clear that if she failed him, her family would pay the price. Jessie was not going to let that happen.

  But until then, she was still free. She couldn’t go back to Matt like her wolf demanded, but she could make the most of the time she had left. Instead of heading west into Virginia, Jessie continued northbound on the interstate, over the Delaware state line and into Pennsylvania. Supposedly the Pocono Mountains were a favorite among shifters with all the mountains and forests. And if that didn’t work out, there was always the Catskills.

  * * *

  By Saturday morning, Matt had no choice but to leave. He had continued to hold out hope that Jessie would return, rationalizing that since she hadn’t actually checked out, she might have planned to come back at some point. It hadn’t worked out that way, though.

  It was disappointing, but certainly not enough to discourage him. He blamed himself, really, for coming on too strong and scaring her off. In his heart, he knew that she’d felt the special connection between them, too. He had felt it in her touch, tasted it in her kisses, heard it each time she had screamed his name in climax and mumbled it in her sleep.

  Hopefully, Malcolm had had better luck coming up with information than he had.

  Matt absently touched his chest, comforted by the solid feel of the moonstone beneath his shirt. As it was his only connection to her, he’d threaded it onto some thin leather cord and had been wearing it ever since. He liked the heavy weight of it against his skin, the way it absorbed his body heat. By wearing it, he felt closer to her.

  Matt slung his leg over the seat of his classic Indian Chief, looking back at the hotel one last time. This was where he had found his mate. And he was going to find her again.

  With a swift kick the powerful bike rumbled to life beneath him and pulled away.

  Chapter 9 – Life’s a Bitch, Then You’re Forced to Mate One

  All too soon, her last week of freedom was over. There had been no miracle, no eleventh hour stay forthcoming. Jessie returned to her family’s pack lands (now Lucas’s) in Virginia, feeling defeated but resolute.

  At the edge of the woods, Jessie shed her clothes and transformed into her wolf. If she had to bear one more glance of sympathy, hear one more word about what she was being forced to do, she was going to lose her mind.

  They all knew what had to happen. Why did they have to keep talking about it?

  She ran as fast as she could, her paws eating up the miles until her heart pounded and her muscles shook with exhaustion. There was little solace to be found in the woods today. She plopped down beside the icy cold stream and dipped her weary muzzle into the water; the damp earth felt good against her overheated belly.

  Jessie sensed Muriel before she saw her. The ethereal witch glided from the trees silently, the only indication of her presence the slight swell of natural energy in the air around her, but had she wanted to, she could have suppressed that as well.

  Jessie allowed her body to assume its human shape again, but she remained where she was. “Hi Ree.”

  “Hi Jess. Did the amulet work for you?”

  “Like a charm,” Jessie told her oldest and dearest friend with a little smirk. “But I lost it. I’m sorry.”

  The witch shrugged. “It’s okay. It served its purpose.”

  “It was beautiful.”

  “I can make you another one.”

  “Can you put an apathy spell on this one? So I don’t care anymore?”

  Muriel gave her a sad smile. “For someone else, maybe, but not you. Not even I have that much magic, Jess. Your depth of emotion is at the very core of your nature. To take that away would be to destroy who you are.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “It is a bad thing. Lucas wants you, Jess, the way you are. Give him a shell and it won’t be only your family that pays the price.”

  Jessie stiffened. “He came to see you, didn’t he?”

  “Yes,” Muriel admitted. “Right after you left. He wasn’t happy that he couldn’t track you.”

  “I said I’d be back,” Jessie scowled. “Does he really think I’d do that to my family?”

  “No. But you drive him crazy, Jess. He hates the fact that he can’t control you. Hates it and wants it at the same time.”

  “Can’t control me,” Jessie laughed. “That bastard is pulling all the strings.”

  “Outwardly, yes,” Muriel agreed. “But not inside. He wants all of you.”

  “Well, tough toenails. He’s not going to get it.”

  Muriel sat down next to her. With a few waves of her hand, her lap was filled with colorful wildflowers and fragrant vines.

  “That never gets old,” Jessie sighed, reaching over to grab a handful. In comfortable silence, the two women began to weave the foliage together, just as they had been doing since they were little girls. The ritual had gotten them through innumerable family crises, the onset of menstruation, and dozens of unrequited crushes.

  “There’s something different about you,” Muriel said finally.

  “What makes you say that?” Jessie asked carefully, her fingers hesitating only slightly. It was enough.

  “You’re sad. I can feel it radiating from you.”

  “Of course I’m sad,” Jessie snapped. “In a few hours I have to go in front of the entire pack and pretend I’ve got the hots for Lucas.”

  “That makes you angry,” Muriel countered. “The sorrow comes from something else.”

  “What are you, a psychic now?” Jessie snorted.

  “No. I’m your best friend. Remember our pact?”

  “Of course I do,” Jessie sighed. They had been thirteen, and Muriel had “borrowed” her mother’s grimoire, hoping to find a spell that would give Bobby Cavanaugh painful boils in some very private areas because he had called Jessie an “ugly muttface”. Jessie had laughed it off, but had spent the rest of the night crying on Muriel’s shoulder because she really liked Bobby. Over Cokes and bags of cheddar and sour cream chips they’d discovered the Sisterhood spell instead. By sharing a few drops of blood, burning some incense, and whispering a few incantations beneath a full moon at midnight, Jessie and Muriel had become true blood sisters.

  Muriel placed her hand lightly on Jessie’s arm, then closed her eyes and let the air around them fill with natural magic. Jessie closed her eyes, too, letting the familiar energy encompass her. She could fight it. Muriel had taught her how to resist, but she didn’t. There was some part of her that wanted someone else to know, and it wasn’t like she could have told anyone else what had happened.

  “Oh, Jessie,” Muriel breathed, “you found your true mate, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Jessie admitted with a sad smile. “Sucks for me, huh?”

  “You can’t mate Lucas now.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I will. I have to. You of all people know what will happen if I don’t.”

  “Yes, but if Lucas finds out there is another male who has managed to do something he has not, he’s going to punish you, Jessie. He’ll find the other Alpha and -—”

  “I know!” Jessie said, her voice rising. “Don’t you think I know that? T
hat is exactly why no one can ever know about this, Muriel. Not ever.”

  “And what about your true mate? Don’t you think he’ll come looking for you?”

  “No. I was very careful. I used a fake last name and paid for everything in cash. Nothing can be traced back to me.”

  Muriel frowned. “But from what you’ve told me, finding your true mate is a big deal, right? If he recognized you as his intended, then he is not going to give up so easily.”

  “Yeah, he will,” Jessie told her. “Because he thinks I’m human.”

  “The amulet....”

  “Yeah. And because he thinks I’m fully human, he didn’t mark me. Even if he did ask me to marry him, he - ”

  “What?!? He asked you to marry him?”

  “Yeah,” Jessie smiled a little, remembering Matt’s adorably unromantic proposal. “It was kind of cute, really.”

  “He didn’t tell you what he was, did he?”

  Jessie shook her head, grinning despite the breath-stealing ache in her chest. “Can you imagine what that conversation would have been like? I do, and by the way, I’m a werewolf.”

  Muriel held her hand up to her mouth, chuckling. “And then you would have said, Yeah, I know. Then you would have transformed into your wolf and bitten him on the ass or something.”

  Jessie laughed as she pictured it happening just like that. “Yeah, probably.”

  “So,” Muriel said, after the laughter faded. “Are you really okay with this?”

  “No. But it is what it is, right? Not everyone gets the happy ending, Muriel.”

  * * *

  “The car was stolen,” Malcolm said, his eyes following his Alpha’s incessant pacing across the kitchen floor. “Registered to one Peter J. Fitch of Smyrna, Delaware. He reported it missing last Saturday.”

  Matt shook his head. It didn’t make sense. Jessica didn’t seem the Grand Theft Auto type. “Stolen? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, but...”

  Matt narrowed his eyes at his spymaster. “But?”

  “After Mr. Fitch initially reported the car missing, he found an envelope containing nearly two thousand dollars and a note explaining that the car would be returned to him undamaged and with a full tank of gas in one week.”

  “And? Was it?”

  Malcolm’s eyes sparkled. “Yes, it was. Freshly-washed, waxed, and detailed.”

  There were so many things that just didn’t add up. Jessie was human, but had all the characteristics of a wolf. She’d felt the connection between them, but had turned tail and run. Oh yeah. And she borrowed cars and returned them in better condition than she found them.

  “So where do we go from here?”

  “Your female obviously doesn’t want to be found, Matt. There might be a very good reason for that. Are you sure you want to pursue this?”

  “It is not a matter of choice, Malcolm. The woman is my mate.”

  “I thought you said she was human.”

  “She is. I think.”

  “You think?” Malcolm asked, his eyes wide.

  “It’s hard to explain. Everything about her screamed wolf -—her looks, her intelligence, her strength, her passion. But she smelled human.”

  “So do you,” Malcolm said matter-of-factly. “Maybe it’s something about the beach or the salt water.”

  Matt snapped his head around. “I what?”

  “You smell like a human male.”

  Matt lowered his nose toward his shoulder and took a big long sniff. His eyes widened. “Go into the next room and whisper something.”

  “What?”

  “Just do it.”

  Looking bemused, Malcolm did as he asked. A long minute later he returned, his expression incredulous. “You didn’t hear me, did you?”

  “No,” Matt shook his head.

  “Shit. Try going wolf.”

  Matt called upon his inner beast but nothing happened. He closed his eyes and tried to focus. Nothing.

  “Fuck,” Malcolm breathed.

  “My wolf is still there,” Matt said soberly, “but it’s like he’s sleeping or something.”

  “When is the last time you shifted?”

  “Before I left. I did a partial shift to try and track her, no problem.”

  “What changed between then and now?”

  “Nothing,” Matt said, shaking his head.

  “You didn’t eat or drink anything strange? Run into any pissed-off mages?”

  “No.”

  “What about charms? Did the woman leave anything behind that might have been imbued with a binding spell?”

  Matt’s eyes grew wide as he felt the heat of the moonstone against his chest. He pulled it from beneath his shirt and showed it to Malcolm. “I found this in the parking lot where her car was parked. Jessie was wearing this the whole time she was there.”

  Malcolm held out his hand. Reluctantly, Matt placed the amulet in his palm.

  “Now shift.”

  Matt closed his eyes. With some effort -—it was like swimming through sludge -—he managed to call upon his wolf. He dropped to all fours as his hands and feet became paws, his bones and muscles popped and morphed, and he stared up at Malcolm from a furry face. With slightly less effort, he returned to his human form.

  “Now you try it,” Matt said.

  Squeezing the moonstone in his hand, Malcolm tried in vain to shift.

  “Well,” Malcolm said wryly, “I think we can guess what this does.”

  “Which means Jessie really is a wolf,” Matt breathed. “A wolf who hid her true nature. But why?”

  “Excellent question,” Malcolm said. “One perhaps the witch who bespelled the amulet will answer for us.”

  “Yes. If we knew who that witch was and where to find her.”

  “Brandon told me once that all witches can be uniquely identified through their magic. Each time they spell something, it leaves the magical equivalent of a fingerprint,” Malcolm said, speaking of the powerful mage and longtime friend.

  “Then let’s pay Brandon a visit, shall we?” Matt asked, feeling a glimmer of hope.

  Chapter 10 – Biting the Silver Bullet

  “The Council now recognizes Jessica Sablewolf. Present yourself and state your business.”

  Jessica glared at Dean as she rose from her seat and made her way up toward the raised dais where the Council -—and Lucas -—sat. The male was such a self-important, pompous ass. He’d had it in for her ever since she kicked his ass in high school for making Muriel cry.

  She had the nearly overwhelming urge do so again, right now. Lucas wouldn’t care. Dean thought he was indispensable, but Jessie knew better. The only reason Lucas even tolerated him was because Lucas’ brother had mated Dean’s sister.

  “Kneel.”

  Jessica growled softly, catching the quirk in Lucas’ lips. Oh yeah, Lucas would probably love to see her take a bite out of the idiot. But she didn’t. She controlled her primal urges and knelt, carefully lifting the hem of her robe so it billowed around her. It was a symbolic, ceremonial garment, dyed the same rich sable color as the clan for which she had been named. It was a family heirloom, the same robe her mother had worn when she had presented herself to Jessie’s father all those years ago.

  “I wish to offer myself for the Alpha’s consideration as a mate,” she intoned. Her voice, rich and clear, rang throughout the large gathering room. Far in the back, she heard her mother’s muffled sobs and resisted the urge to glance back at her. Damn it. She’d told them not to come.

  Lucas’s eyes glowed with approval and triumph.

  “Very well,” said Dean, scribbling into something that looked like an old ledger. “Your name has been added to the list of contenders. You will be informed of - ”

  “Wait. There are others?” Jessie interrupted him. She’d joked about Lucas making her fight for him, but she hadn’t really believed he’d actually do it.

  “Of course there are others,” Dean sneered. “Lucas is the Alpha. He - ”

 
“How many?” she pushed, cutting him off.

  Dean pressed his lips together into a fine line. Even from her position several feet away she could see him clenching his jaw. Ignoring her question, he raised his eyes and addressed the room. “The battle for Alpha mate will take place one week from tonight. Sign-ups will be accepted in the Great Lodge Meeting Room until Friday night.”

  Dean slammed the ledger book closed. “This session of Council is hereby ended.”

  Jessie remained on the floor long after people began filing out of the meeting hall. Just how many she-wolves would she have to battle for a prize she didn’t really want?

  It didn’t matter. There was no turning back now. She had formally committed herself, in front of her family, her pack, and the Council. She would win, because losing was not an option.

  * * *

  “Where did you say you got this?” Brandon asked, reaching for the leather pouch Malcolm held out to him.

  “A woman in Ocean City, Maryland.”

  Brandon dumped the contents into his hand. Within seconds of hitting his palm, his eyes began to glow with enough intensity to bathe the immediately area in an eerie blue. He inhaled sharply, rolling the stone in his hand until the power faded a bit.

  “It’s a concealment charm, and a damn strong one at that.”

  “We think it was worn by a Were female hoping to pass herself off as human.”

  “Well, this would do it,” Brandon said. “Any idea who spelled it?”

  “We were hoping maybe you could tell us.”

  Brandon shook his head. “Honestly? I’ve never felt anything like it. The signature is unique, not even remotely close to anything I’ve come across in the past hundred years or so. Whoever spelled it is a very powerful witch, extremely skilled in natural magic.”

  “Natural magic?”

  “Yes. It’s an ancient form of magic, and very rare. Think of it this way: on a scale of one to ten, a natural witch rates about a fifty.”