Call of the Lycan (Secrets of the Sequoia Book 3)

by Deidre Huesmann

  “I don’t really remember my mom’s face these days,” he said quietly. “But I remember how scared she was. And I remember her screams.”

  Lacey flinched but didn’t ask for him to stop talking.

  “I guess I just... I don’t know, I thought Rachael would care for me more than that,” he finished lamely. “I know I did some awful things, but it’s just... how can she not see how terrible Aaron is?”

  Lacey’s carefully plucked eyebrows shot up. “Aaron?”

  “Yeah, Genevieve’s Aaron,” he confirmed.

  “Oh, wow.”

  “Tell me about it.” He growled in frustration and scuffed his shoe on the sidewalk.

  With a nervous laugh, Lacey said, “Your life is like some sort of soap opera, huh? Death upon secrets upon lies. Maybe some spy thriller mixed in there.”

  “More like a horror movie.” Holden smiled faintly at her. “But I’ll get through. I appreciate you listening.”

  Lacey smiled and sidled forward to kiss him on the cheek. “You’re a sweetheart, Holden. We miss you at the golf course.”

  “I’m sure Jordan doesn’t.”

  “Yeah, he picked up a bunch of hours,” she agreed. “But Jordan’s a douche. The regulars don’t like him as much.”

  Holden chuckled and began to walk again. Lacey clacked alongside him, her coat billowing behind her in the breeze. There was a nice little tranquility to the moment, one Holden sorely missed in his life as of late.

  A warm touch invaded his uninjured hand. He glanced down in surprise to find Lacey intertwining her fingers with his.

  At his questioning look, she smiled cheekily. “Don’t worry; I’m not making a move on you. It just makes me feel safer.”

  He grinned. “I’ll be more than happy to be your meat shield.”

  A short laugh floated from her throat. “I’m sure you can take a mugger. You got that skinny-muscled look. The kind of guy who would have a knife hidden in his boot, you know? I’d put my money on you over a beefy thug any day.”

  She was a lot more than she seemed on first glance, thought Holden. At the course she wore short skirts and skimpy tops for easy tips, but out here she seemed perfectly comfortable in skinny jeans and a sweater. Even her heels were short and practical for a brief walk.

  Normally he didn’t look twice at her, but Lacey was gorgeous tonight. She looked comfortable. Soft curls bounced against her face with each languid step she took.

  Her demeanor was pretty much the same, though she’d dropped the overly flirtatious eye-batting. Lacey definitely knew how to put on a show for an audience but still be herself once she got home.

  “What if,” Holden said suddenly, “I told you I wasn’t human.”

  “I’d tell you I was a vampire,” she shot back with a sly grin.

  “Ha, ha.” Holden stopped and tightened his grip on her fingers. She turned to him, her eyes hesitant but still trusting. With a solemn expression he said, “I’m serious.”

  Lacey drew in a breath between her teeth. “Well,” she said slowly. “I’d say you have to prove it.”

  “Fair enough.” Holden rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand as an idea occurred to him. But perhaps tonight was not the night to put it into action. “Sorry for keeping you. I’ll walk you back to the door.”

  As they headed back Lacey said, “Why don’t you stay a while?” If their previous conversation perturbed her, she didn’t show it.

  He rolled his eyes. “Frat parties aren’t my thing.”

  She gave him a light whack on the shoulder. “They’re not mine, either. But the liquor is flowing and you could stand to get your mind off your ex.”

  Ex. The word sounded so final and agonizing. Holden bit the inside of his cheek.

  Noticing she’d upset him, Lacey grew apologetic. “Sorry. Not-ex.”

  “No, she’s an ex,” said Holden mutely.

  “I’m sorry, Holden.”

  Nighttime was well underway by then. The overhead streetlamps blocked any chance of catching a glimpse of stars behind streaks of purple-grey clouds, and the moon was completely absent.

  Certainly a desolate night.

  As they descended the steps Holden grimaced. Just a few more feet would carry them back to that ridiculous party, and his blissful little moment would be over.

  “You know,” said Lacey cunningly. “I don’t know how you feel about feeding guests, but we’re definitely about to run out of refreshments. And I have four boxes of brownie mix we haven’t used yet.”

  “Mix?” asked Holden in disbelief. “Forget that. You sober enough to drive? We can get fresh ingredients.”

  “Oh, no,” said Lacey with a wag of her finger. “A, I’m not sober enough, so you’d be doing that alone. And B, if you insist on something fresh, you will not be doing brownies. You’ll be baking cookies, and lots of ‘em.”

  Holden held out a hand. “I’ll need thirty bucks.”

  She grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the door. “I’m not paying. You’ll get donations from about twenty starving ‘frat boys,’ as you so perfectly put it.” Lacey flashed a devilish smile. “Hope you’re ready for a lot of bear hugs and older men treating you like a therapist. Welcome to my world, Holden.”

  For the first time in a while, Holden felt like he could let go and pretend to be completely human again. He followed her in willingly, forcing himself to withstand the searing noise and rowdy shouting. After all, it was just for a night.

  A surprisingly fun, affectionate, double fudge cookie-filled night.

  Chapter Sixteen

  She lashed out like a caged animal. Rachael came at Aaron, swinging the kitchen knife in her hand with a blind intent to cut. Aaron easily sidestepped and grabbed her in a headlock from behind. When she tried to stab him he snarled into her ear, ensuring it was a terrifying sound with hot breath.

  Sure enough she froze.

  Aaron then released her, shaking his head. “No good, Ms. Adair.”

  Rachael groaned and turned to face him. Stray pieces of hair were slowly worming free of her simple ponytail, and her tank top was damp with sweat. “Please stop calling me that,” she complained.

  He ignored her protest. “If you are going to lock up at a mere sound, you will not last long.”

  “Well, I’m sorry that it’s hard to fight against millions of years of evolutionary fear against predators,” she muttered.

  A mirthless smile touched his lips. “Be that as it may, you will not fare well in a fight with an older lycan. So.” He took a few steps back and raised his chin, exposing his throat. With a beckon with his hands, he said “Again.”

  She blew out a deep breath between pursed lips. Aaron waited patiently and counted down the seconds it took her to regain her composure.

  Then, with a furious cry, she lunged at him and tried to aim the knife between his ribs. Aaron knocked her arm away, but she followed up with a frenzied kick at his knees. Amateurish, thought Aaron with vexation. He swiftly slipped behind her and shoved. Though he barely used any strength Rachael toppled to the ground. Thankfully she released the knife first, and it clattered to the driveway.

  She scrambled up, trying to grab the knife, but Aaron kicked it away from her. Then he crouched before her, studying Rachael’s frustrated expression.

  “You are agitated,” he said calmly.

  She huffed and pushed herself to her knees, resting her palms against her thighs with her elbows pointed out. “You’re kicking my butt.”

  “That we expected,” he pointed out. “Nathan was too soft on you.”

  She shook her head. “We didn’t do this kind of fighting. Mostly evasive stuff.”

  “Which will only help you run,” said Aaron. “You need to know how to fight.”

  “So why can’t I just take karate or something? My school offers after-hours classes.”

  “Karate is honorable fighting,” explained Aaron patiently. “You cannot guarantee a lycan will be honorable. And even if he is, you are human.
You must fight dirty to win. It is the only advantage you will have.”

  Holden and his gun came to mind. The memory only served to sour Aaron’s mood.

  Rachael sighed and closed her eyes against a cool breeze. Aaron stood and offered her his hand. She accepted and allowed him to pull her up before stepping away and pacing into the yard, stretching her arms as she went.

  Aaron allowed her the respite. He picked up the knife and headed toward the house. Before they started he had allowed her to pick a weapon, but she was far too disadvantaged to be trusted with such a sharp object. It could easily be turned against her.

  She must have seen him because Rachael burst into the kitchen, her eyes skeptical. “What are you doing?”

  Impassively, Aaron opened the dishwasher and placed the knife inside. “Finding you a different weapon.”

  “No,” she exclaimed, her voice high with desperation. “I can handle it.”

  Aaron closed the dishwasher and kept his face smooth. “You are just as liable to harm yourself, as distracted as you are. We should start with something blunt. A pole, perhaps.”

  With startling aggression, she strode up to him. Her grey eyes blazed with indignant anger. “I said,” she ground out, “that I can handle it.”

  Aaron leaned in close until she had to pull back. Keeping her gaze, he said with deadly softness, “And I said, no. Find something else or go home.”

  Rachael opened her mouth, appeared to think better of her retort, and then jerked away bodily. She stormed off upstairs and into the bathroom, where the sink turned on as she began to wash up.

  Unsure of her immediate intentions, Aaron decided to give her some space until she cooled off either way. He reached to the top of a tall cabinet and found his pack of black clove cigarettes. Pulling one out, he snagged a lighter and stepped onto the back porch for a smoke.

  Rachael was unusually high-strung today. It was beginning to wear on his nerves. Aaron couldn’t help her or assuage any concerns if she remained tight-lipped, but Rachael insisted upon stubborn silence. He could—and would—continue to train her. But if she didn’t learn how to separate her emotions from her reactions then she was going to get hurt, and fast.

  The low murmur of the sliding glass door reached his ears. Aaron noted the footsteps were significantly more delicate than Rachael’s, even lighter than Nathan’s.

  “Hello, Ana Sofia,” he said quietly. “Do not stand near the smoke, please.”

  Ana Sofia obediently moved so she was in front of him and well away from where the lingering clove trail wafted.

  Aaron tilted his head. “Where is Nathan?”

  “Él está—” Aaron shook his head, and Ana Sofia sighed. Struggling with the English, she said haltingly, “He is talk to Rachael. Alone.” Then she pointed her herself. “Not welcome.”

  It wasn’t like either of them to exclude Ana Sofia, and Aaron was very certain they were not planning a surprise party for the girl. He frowned toward the forest so she wouldn’t think he was upset with her.

  “Do you like it here with us, Ana Sofia?” he asked.

  Ana Sofia squinted up at him, considering his words. “I like,” she agreed. “But... I miss Mami and Papi.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Aaron gently. “But you understand your parents are dead, do you not?”

  The girl’s expression crumpled inward, but she nodded. Her eyes remained dry. “Sí, Hermano.”

  He couldn’t help but smile at her affectionate name for him. An alpha was usually considered a parental duty, but like Nathan she had decided on delegating unto him an older brother role. That suited Aaron beautifully.

  Aaron put out the cigarette in an ash tray balanced on the rail toward the back of the house. He returned to the little girl, kneeling so he was at her level. “I am very happy to have you with us, Ana Sofia,” he said. “I shall do what I can to make you happy as well.”

  Ana Sofia nodded solemnly.

  “Well, then,” said Aaron with a tight smile. “Let us check your progress. Teeth, please.”

  A pup had to be monitored for physical issues as well as mental. Ana Sofia still faded, which was to be expected, but with Nathan vigilantly at her side it was not nearly the issue it had been last autumn. In addition, there were the popping joints, aching muscles, and bleeding gums. Aaron dutifully checked everything, and Ana Sofia complied with the grudging willingness only a kindergartner could master.

  “I hear, sometimes,” said Ana Sofia suddenly when he was done. Aaron shot her a questioning look, and she explained, “I hear them talk. Sometimes. Nathan and Rachael.”

  Aaron knew he’d have to be careful, even though she seemed to be offering the information willingly. “Eavesdropping is not okay.”

  “Don’t mean to,” she protested in her thick accent. “But... they...” She scrunched her face in annoyance, and finally resorted to, “Misterios.”

  Secrets, is what she said. Aaron exhaled carefully through his nose. “What sort of secrets?”

  “Holden,” she said promptly. “Hurt Rachael.”

  Of course he had. His initial instinct was to abandon everything and hunt Holden down. But Aaron immediately restrained that urge. Whatever he did, he had to proceed cautiously.

  Aaron nodded and took Ana Sofia’s small hands in his. He quietly marveled how tiny they were—and how tiny they would likely remain throughout her long life.

  “Thank you,” he said gently. “It is good you told me.”

  She didn’t appear to think so. Ana Sofia’s black eyebrows scrunched her forehead and she looked down as though ashamed. “Nathan will be mad,” she said distinctly.

  Aaron shook his head. “No. I will not say anything. I promise.” She gave him a small, tentative smile, which he returned. “Do you know how Holden hurt Rachael?”

  Ana Sofia shook her head. “Just know.”

  Of course it would be too much for a five year-old to completely comprehend. Aaron nodded and leaned forward, kissing her forehead chastely. “Thank you, my dear. Please feel free to fix yourself a snack.”

  “Muy bien.”

  His assumption that Rachael’s more recent behavior had everything to do with Holden had been correct. What puzzled Aaron was why she chose to confide in Nathan. Admittedly, it hurt a little. But he tried to ignore that part.

  Instead Aaron made his way up to Nathan’s room and stood outside in complete silence. The door remained tightly shut but he could hear them whispering. His brother’s voice was indiscernible with the low pitch he used, but Rachael was coherent enough.

  Nathan murmured something and she answered, “No, it definitely hurt him. But it didn’t really stop him.” Another murmur and then: “I know, I just... I was scared to hurt him too much. It’s hard to think he’s completely awful after all he’s done for me.”

  Aaron closed his eyes and forced himself to temper his anger. Only when his pulse completely calmed did he step forward and twist the doorknob with purpose.

  In the room Nathan and Rachael were sitting on the bed, and awfully close for people who supposedly had nothing to hide. Rachael jumped a little. A panicked expression flittered across her face. But Nathan simply looked at his brother and said, “What’s up?”

  “Where is Jackson?” asked Aaron.

  Nathan frowned. “He went to work. You know that.”

  “I know,” he said calmly. “I just wanted to see what other lies you were prepared to tell me.”

  His brother looked down, his jaw jutting out. Beside him Rachael protectively put an arm around him. Her voice sharpened. “I know you’re the alpha and all, but you don’t have to be so mean to him.”

  “To be in my pack means to bare all secrets,” said Aaron firmly. He zeroed his dark gaze on her. “And whilst we train, that includes you.”

  “I have nothing to hide,” she stated.

  “I see.”

  Then, so quickly even Nathan was stunned, Aaron rushed them. He shoved his brother aside and knocked Rachael back to the bed. Her
head thumped against the wall and she yelped. But she still fought back, flailing angrily against him. Aaron smacked her hands away and pinned them down on her stomach. That sent her into a blind panic and she kicked at him screaming, “Get off me! Don’t you dare touch me! We’re not training right now!”

  “Aaron, stop!” Nathan tried to shove at him. When that didn’t work, he bared his teeth.

  Aaron ignored his brother and glared coldly down at Rachael. “Until you are able to best me, we are always training,” he hissed. “I suggest you fight your way out of this.”

  “I’m trying!” she cried. Rachael attempted to yank her hands up but Aaron just slammed them to the mattress, forcing her to twist to her side. She gasped. Small tears formed in her eyes.

  Then a sharp pain dug into his shoulder. Aaron snarled and released Rachael to knock his brother back, but Nathan wrapped his arms around his neck and dug his teeth harder into his flesh. The boy growled like a rabid animal.

  Aaron reached behind himself, pressing his thumbs into the sensitive area between Nathan’s jaws. Despite muffled protests the boy finally let go of him and Aaron was able to flip him over his back and to the floor. Nathan grunted on impact.

  On the bed Rachael began to hyperventilate. Her eyes closed off and she scrambled back until her spine was flush with the wall. She drew into herself, gasping for air.

  With a keening wail Nathan tried to go to her, but Aaron grabbed him and put him into a headlock. Nathan’s feet dangled several inches from the ground as he struggled ineffectively.

  “Now,” he snapped as his brother struggled in his arms. “Who is going to tell me what is going on?”

  Something inside Rachael snapped.

  She launched herself forward and smacked Aaron across the face with what he assumed was all her strength. And he had to admit, the slap had a decent sting to it. He dropped his brother to the floor and Nathan hurried to block Rachael. Both of them eyed him with a mixture of fear and anger.

  “I don’t have to tell you everything,” spat Rachael. “I can have secrets. I’m not a part of your pack.”

  “Not when those secrets are pertinent,” Aaron returned.