by Desiree Holt
One of the retreating youths coming toward me snagged my arm.
“Come on.”
I hesitated to move. In the center of the almost vacant street, the woman faced the angry young man alone. I didn’t feel right about it.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“My friends call me Bull, cuz I’m hung like one. You’ll have a hard time saying it though, with my dick in your mouth.”
The one who’d identified himself as his cousin started backing away. “He’s all I have now, Tink.”
“I’m sorry, Zepher,” she said with real regret in her tone. “You’re better off without your mom, though. You know that. You come to me if you need anything, all right?”
Zepher nodded once then turned and ran, disappearing into the shadowy streets.
“Lady, I’m real tired of your shit,” the dangerous youth said. “Whatever control you think you have here isn’t real.”
The boy holding my arm gave it a stronger pull. “Now, mister. Or we leave you.”
If anyone had been taking bets on a fight between a librarian and a street thug, most would have sided with the thug. I wasn’t so sure he’d come out the winner this time. Crazy held a special unpredictable edge. Still, I didn’t want to abandon her but knew I couldn’t interfere without exposing myself. And, if I stayed and she died, I’d be screwed. I was better off with the boy pulling on my arm.
I reluctantly stepped away from the spectacle in the street and followed the youths around the corner.
Behind us, I heard laughter cut short.
“Does she really run the neighborhood?” I asked.
“You got a problem with that?” the youth to my right asked.
“No, no problem. Where I’m from, women always run the show. My name’s Rogan, by the way.”
The kid looked at me and partially rolled his eyes. “Name’s Denz. That’s Will.”
“You live in the same building?”
“Yeah,” Will said with a tone that dared me to keep talking.
I grinned. These two didn’t worry me. However, the three who quietly followed us did. They wouldn’t give up or go away. So, that meant going with these two back to the building and then…what?
I was tired of running and missed home. Not the drama that came with being home, but a safe place where I could close my eyes and really sleep. The old Lutha had taken that away from me when she’d asked me to wed her daughter. She was as crazy as the woman we’d just left behind if she thought I’d mate with her pinch-faced, horse-toothed daughter. And, the old Lutha thought I was just as crazy for saying no.
In her mind, what man would refuse such power? Her daughter, Arya, had been bred and groomed to be the next Lutha. She’d already passed her eighteenth birthday, the age when females could take mates. The strength I could gain from mating her would put me above all other males. Yet, it didn’t make up for the fact that she was buy-a-lifetime-supply-of-paper-bags ugly and that my dick wilted just at the thought of touching her.
It wasn’t unheard of for a male to refuse a female. Although, typically, the female usually made sure the male was interested before asking. However, in the case of the Lutha in training, I doubted any male was really interested. Sure, those like Cael would want Arya for the mating power, but not for the female herself.
“Could we have a word with our friend?” Cael called out from behind me.
“Speak of the devil,” I mumbled.
Will stopped walking and turned.
“What do you want with him?” he asked.
Denz eyed up the two men on the sidewalk while I looked around for the third. Yep, he was coming down the block from the right. To make sure I didn’t run or to ambush us? I doubted the old Lutha was desperate enough to attack humans to get to me. At least, not yet.
“We just need to pass on a message.”
“Then pass it. He can hear you,” Denz said, pulling a gun from his waistband.
Cael glanced at the gun then at me.
“Your mother says you’re a disgrace. She and your father won’t see you until you make things right.”
The words settled in my gut like ice. Even if I found a way to return home, I couldn’t now. My mother had spoken. I was dead to them and had no place in their pack or their community until I accepted the Lutha’s proposal or died in truth.
I wanted to tell the Lutha to go fuck herself. But I wasn’t really ready to die.
“If you two are done eye fucking each other, we need to go,” Denz said.
“We’re done,” I said softly, turning.
Cael and his boys stayed where they were. I didn’t try to run, though. There was nowhere left for me to go.
When we reached the building, Will led the way up the stairs. The aroma of fresh baked cookies filled the air. I inhaled and let the scent of warm chocolate sooth me. This place was a home. Not mine, but for now, good enough to get some sleep. Hopefully.
The acrid sting of bleach and cleaners killed the pleasant cookie smell as soon as I stepped through the woman’s apartment door. An older woman, who was helping the little girl scoop dough onto cookie sheets, looked up when we entered.
Her gaze swept the two boys then skimmed over me as well.
“Unhurt. Good. We have two more batches. They bake twelve minutes. Watch the top rack, though.”
“We know,” Will said.
The woman dusted off her hands. “Come on, Kye. Time for bed.” She led the girl out into the hall then looked back at the youths. “I hope you’re still unhurt when you come home.”
Will nodded slightly, and the two females walked away.
“Take a seat,” Denz said, looking at me. “Tink will be back soon.”
“Mind if I use the bathroom?”
“Yeah, I do. It’s not my place. You need to wait for Tink. Sit.”
I moved to step into the living room, but Denz stopped me. “Shoes, man. Take ‘em off.”
After kicking off my shoes and placing them near the door, I went to sit on her old lumpy couch. It was the first time I’d sat that day. It would have felt great if my ribs hadn’t hurt so damn much.
Will and Denz didn’t speak as they moved around in the kitchen. I watched them start cleaning up what the older woman and Kye had not. It surprised me that they would do something so…domestic. Sure, we werewolves were like that. Males had no problem in the kitchen, helping their mates. Humans were a little different, though. Especially young human males. Most usually thought domestic type work beneath them.
As they’d said, it wasn’t long before Tink returned. They’d just taken the last batch of cookies from the oven when I heard the lower door open and her heels click on the entry floor.
Both boys stopped what they were doing when they heard her on the steps. Will looked decidedly nervous.
As she came into view, I started to feel the same. A light spattering of blood dotted the breast of her coat and her face.
Both boys’ pulses kicked up a notch.
She didn’t look at them right away. Instead, she removed her coat and shoes then stepped into the kitchen area. She took a large bottle of bleach from under the sink, opened it, and poured it directly over her hands. She washed as if it were soap, then rinsed. The fresh dose of bleach stung my nose anew.
“Did you get my message?” she asked with her back to them.
Will shifted nervously on his feet. “We did.”
“And you thought you could ignore it?”
“He was new, Tink. We were just trying to explain how things are run here.”
She set her wet hands on the edge of the sink and rolled her shoulders.
“I welcome guests to this neighborhood. You do not. Understood?”
“Yes, Tink,” both boys said quickly.
Will shifted on his feet nervously. “Did you…?”
“Of course I didn’t. We all deserve second chances, don’t we? Take a cookie and go. I expect this building to be spotless by the end of the day tomorrow.”
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The boys both grabbed cookies and bolted out the door and down the steps.
The woman grabbed the bottle of bleach and moved toward the bathroom.
“What about me?” I asked.
Her steps hesitated for a moment then she closed herself in the bathroom. Her voice echoed inside as she talked to herself. Crazy bits about keeping herself under control. The shower turned on and she kept talking.
Ten minutes later, she reemerged freshly showered and reeking of bleach. Her blonde hair was combed through and wet against her skull. Dressed in a robe, she carried her dirty clothes to her bedroom and closed the door. I laid my head back on the couch, willing to doze until she kicked me out.
I hadn’t yet managed to fall asleep when her door opened once again. She was dressed in a prim pale pink pajama set. The long sleeved, button up top covered everything from neck to wrists. I liked it. On one hip, she carried a basket of laundry.
She didn’t look at me as she walked down the hall and toward her still open door.
“Can I stay? Please.” Again her steps hesitated. “My name’s Rogan,” I added, hoping it would help. I thought she would continue to ignore me, but she spoke.
“Yes. You may stay.” She walked out and down the steps.
Hoping that included permission to use the bathroom, I closed myself in the small room and started washing up. My face didn’t look too bad. The cuts on my lip and forehead were already healing. I rinsed away the blood then lifted my shirt. My ribs were a multi-color grouping of bruises. If I hurt today, I’d probably hurt worse tomorrow. My healing was quick, but broken bones still needed to mend.
Easing my shirt back into place, I finished using the bathroom then opened the door. Her bedroom door was now closed, and a folded blanket waited for me on the couch.
I didn’t need to be told twice. I stretched out and closed my eyes, ignoring the fact that her apartment door was still open.
Three
TINK
The sound of the running shower woke me. For a moment, I lay still, wondering who’d entered without permission. Then, I recalled Rogan. I sighed and groaned. He shouldn’t have come, and I shouldn’t have let him stay.
Live in the present and learn from the past.
I covered my face with my hands, hating that voice and its reminders. Inhaling the light scent of bleach still clinging to my skin, I wondered what more the voice wanted from me. Hadn’t I done everything it ever said? Sighing, I knew that I hadn’t. That was why I was here. To try to make up for the one thing I hadn’t done right.
Eight years ago, I’d run from my gift and my responsibility. The voice in my head hadn’t made itself known until after the first year. Once it had, I’d spent years moving from place to place, looking for…something. It was here the voice said I should settle down. Here, I should wait for a chance to make right my mistake.
Now, this was my home. These inhabitants, my community. My people. They counted on me to keep them safe, and they needed me to keep them in line. A community without a leader wasn’t a community but a wild mob. They needed order and consequence. My stomach roiled as I recalled last night.
I’d waited until Will and Denz had turned the corner before facing the self-named Bull. When I’d tried to ask for his real name, disrespect had oozed from every word of his short response. I’d reached forward, lightly touching him and saw words of reason would not work with him.
Over many years the voice had, in its infinite wisdom, given me everything I’d needed to respond. Bull hadn’t expected me to reach for him or to snap his arm so severely that the bone had punctured the skin. However, the real turning point in his opinion of me had been when I’d leaned forward and licked the bloody bone while he still screamed.
I closed my eyes and let the scene continue to replay in my head, evaluating it and his reaction.
His mind had opened to me. He’d labeled me crazy. Insane and capable of anything. He’d feared me.
“This is my neighborhood,” I had said with his blood still coating my tongue. “You are a guest here. You will not disrespect me. You will not cause trouble. Am I clear?”
His sobbing wails had gone on and on as he stared at his licked bone.
“Oh, fine,” I’d said before pulling on his arm and forcing the bone back into place. The boy had turned white and his knees had begun to buckle. Catching him, I’d eased him to the ground and waited. As soon as his eyes opened, I’d repeated myself twice more before he’d nodded.
“Good. Go home. No one will bother you. In three days, come see me.”
I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling. All in all, it had gone as well as possible with someone so closeminded. In three days, I would show him I was more than a cruel enforcer. I didn’t want my community to fear me. I wanted them to also know they could come to me for anything.
The shower stopped running, signaling an end to my lounging abed.
Leadership requires work. More than any other person in the community.
“Yes. I know. I know. Don’t ask for more than you are willing to give yourself,” I said, quoting the voice.
I got out of bed and quickly dressed and knotted up my hair. Lifting a blanket to remake the bed, I hesitated. I’d slept on the sheets twice already. Would another night be too much? To be safe, I stripped the bedding and tossed it into a basket along with my pajamas.
Once I had the laundry gathered, I opened my bedroom door. Rogan was already back on the couch. The neatly refolded blanket draped over one arm. He stood when he saw me. His face didn’t look as swollen even though some bruising remained. But, the damage only added to his rugged appeal.
A knock at my open door drew my attention.
“Tink, honey,” Cara said, looking extremely grumpy. “I’m going to punch one of those sweet boys in the face if they try coming into my place to clean before noon again.”
Create stability in the community for true peace.
“Stability. Why is that so hard?”
Cara’s look softened. “Oh, honey. It’s a question I ask often. Especially when I’m tired.”
Sarcasm is a sign of discontentment.
“No sarcasm. No discontentment. Just cleaning and laundry here.” Why couldn’t the voice shut up for just ten minutes?
“Sorry, Tink. I’m just…tired. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”
“No. That’s why I’m here. It’s my head. Tell the boys to leave you be until after noon. There are plenty of other people who could use a hand.”
“Thanks,” Cara said before walking away.
I rolled my shoulders to try to release the tension then walked out into the hall and down the steps to the basement. Switching over the laundry—someone had put a load in the washer after me—I took my dried laundry back upstairs to fold.
When I walked into the apartment, Rogan was still standing there. Damn. I’d forgotten for a moment.
Pay attention to all the details, not just the ones you think will affect you.
“Yes, yes. I know.”
“You know?” he said.
The sound of his voice made my insides tighten, just as they had last night. What would he do if he knew I wanted to lick him, just like I’d licked Bull’s bone last night? I tilted my head to consider it. Rogan might not run. He might stay. And that was dangerous. He needed to go.
Everyone has a need to belong. Taking that away is a more painful punishment than a quick death.
“Shut it,” I said. “Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Every single second.”
His brows rose slightly.
“Yes, you can stay,” I said, already regretting it. “Do you know how to cook?”
He nodded.
“Go make me breakfast.”
What belongs to the leader belongs to the community.
“I mean us. Go make us breakfast. Nothing’s ever good enough, is it?” I stomped my way down the hall and closed myself into my bedroom.
ROGAN
I stared after her, wond
ering what the hell I was thinking. She was obviously crazy. She’d come home spattered in blood, had a weird control over these people, and spoke in a way that didn’t make any sense.
Instinct told me to stay and lay low because I knew what was waiting for me if I left this place. The moment instinct changed its mind and saw this crazy human as a bigger threat, I’d run. Until then, it looked like I’d be doing what she said.
Shaking my head, I went to the kitchen and looked in her refrigerator. I took out a carton of eggs and set them on the counter along with some cheese, mushrooms, and onions. There wasn’t much else I could scramble in.
I set a pan on the stove and turned the burner on while I sliced and diced the mushrooms and onions. It all went into the pan with some oil. I tossed on a lid then focused on the next step.
After fishing a bowl from the cupboards, I removed six eggs and started cracking. My stomach growled. If I were alone, I’d eat an egg right from the shell. But the open hall door stopped me. I didn’t want to bring any extra attention to myself.
As soon as the onions turned opaque, I scrambled the eggs and poured them into the pan. The smell made my mouth water and my stomach cramp. When had I last eaten? Yesterday. A scrawny rabbit in the woods. It hadn’t been easy to rip into with human teeth but had given me the energy I’d needed to keep running.
I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes and enjoying the aroma of a home-cooked meal. It brought back a bittersweet pang of all the breakfasts my mom had made for me. A weaker wolf might have considered giving into the Lutha’s wishes right then. I couldn’t deny the idea of never seeing my parents again caused a jagged pain in my chest.
Dead to them…how could my mom? As easy as it would be, I didn’t really blame my parents. It was the damn Lutha. They still lived in one of the many gated communities run by the Lutha. The Lutha ruled over the girdack, which was made up of many communities. Within the communities, one mated pair ran all the familial packs. My parents had probably been given a choice to get in line or to get out. With the old Lutha, getting out wasn’t as simple as just leaving the community. It meant leaving the girdack. She would strip them of everything, even their health, making it impossible for them to live on their own.
