He blushed a little, and then made a show of looking for a bag for her things. While he wasn’t looking, she pinched her sweater and gave it a quick sniff. She felt a fluttering sensation in her belly as she picked up Zane’s familiar scent.
She paid him with her own money, and then pushed him the change. “Would you mind if I used your Wi-Fi?”
Ginnifer had checked her cellphone for reception when they’d arrived, but like everywhere else she’d been, Port Trent was a dead zone for her cellular service.
Jack—she finally noticed the name on the plate pinned to his sweater—tapped his laptop. “DSL’s all I got here. I only know one place in town that has Wi-Fi and they guard that password like it’s the national secret.”
Smiling, she asked, “Any chance you have Skype on there?”
He whirled his laptop around and gave a short bow. “It’s all yours. My headphones are busted, so make sure you talk close to the mic, the built-in one is garbage.”
Ginnifer thanked him, and then waited for him to busy himself with dusting until she opened the laptop. She logged out of Jack’s Skype account, and then spent the next five minutes trying to remember her password. Up until the past few months, she and Aaron had chatted on Skype almost every night, but the program was always open on her computer, which she rarely shut down.
A flicker of unreality passed over her as she saw the bubble with Aaron’s face on it. She’d been so immersed in Siluit that it sometimes felt as though she’d always been there, and everything that had come before the pack had been part of another lifetime.
Aaron’s profile was marked “Away” but she called him anyway. She let it ring for a moment, and then hung up, feeling guilty about the twinge of relief.
She looked over her shoulder to see that Jack had disappeared. Light came from beneath the door to the back room, and she was surprised that he trusted her not to steal the poorly secured cash box.
Pulling up the web browser, Ginnifer tabbed out of a Google search for “big breast Jamaica” and logged into her email account. Her inbox was flooded with over a hundred emails, mostly from her agent and her mom, with a couple from Aaron and her sister. She scrolled down to the oldest one, which was from her intern Rita.
I forgot all about Rita, too, she thought with no small amount of shame.
Almost three months ago, Rita had set out with Ginnifer and Boaz, only to get frostbite in the first week. She’d had to be taken to town and then flown to the nearest hospital, and Ginnifer hadn’t had the opportunity to follow up with her since.
Rita’s email said that was okay, offered a lot of apologies, and asked if she could be comped for her flight to Fort Lauderdale. Ginnifer typed up a quick response, giving Rita her sister Astrid’s number. Astrid still had the spare key to her apartment, from when she dog sat for Ginnifer’s husky Noona the year before. She also used it to secretly clean Ginnifer’s apartment, and she probably knew where Ginnifer’s checkbook was better than Ginnifer did.
After that, she sent a head’s up email to Astrid, prefacing it with an apology for not responding to the five other emails she’d sent—mostly cute pictures of Noona and rants about her boss. Jack came back in while she typed, but didn’t complain that she’d gone rogue on his laptop.
Before she could begin tackling the emails from her mom, she received an incoming call on Skype. The icon with Aaron’s face seemed to cover the screen. Her finger hovered over the touchpad for a few seconds, but finally she accepted the call.
And suddenly, there he was.
His golden tan was deeper than usual, and he’d shaved his brassy blonde hair almost to its roots. Ocean blue eyes regarded her with excitement as a big smile stretched over his face.
“Hey, Ginny.”
“Hey, yourself.”
A heavy weight fell over her, and for an instant, she thought he would know everything just from looking at her, as though her indiscretions were etched all over her face.
“How is it up there? Have you seen any—” he made his hands into mock claws “—werewolves, yet?”
Ginnifer laughed weakly. “It’s going well, very well, actually. We’ve gotten a lot of great footage. Where are you right now?”
The room behind him looked modern and well furnished, nothing like where he’d called her from the week he’d arrived in Syria.
“Didn’t you get my email? I’m in Edinburgh.”
“No, this is the first chance I’ve had to get online. Did you say Edinburgh? As in, Scotland?”
“Oh, ay,” he said in an exaggerated brogue.
Ginnifer chuckled, her mood lightening a bit. “What are you doing in Scotland? Wait, let me guess, they’ve seceded from the United Kingdom and you’re off to be a medic in the local laird’s army?”
“Close,” he said. “Do you remember when I told you I was taking those online courses?”
“Yes,” Ginnifer said slowly.
“Well, I wanted it to be a surprise, but I got accepted into medical school!”
She stared at him blankly, waiting for the words to click and form something that made sense.
“Medical school?” she repeated. “In Scotland?”
Aaron was still smiling, but whatever he saw on her face seemed to make him anxious. “Yeah. Do you remember how I told you if I were going to go to medical school, it would be in Scotland, that way we don’t—”
“I remember you mentioning these things in passing,” she said, exhaling in exasperation. “What I don’t remember is us having a discussion about them. This is a huge deal. You’re going to be in Scotland for—how many years?”
“It depends, but Ginny, I thought you’d be happy about this. You’ve wanted us to get a home for years now. This will mean I won’t be traveling anymore. I know you may not want to settle down in Edinburgh, but we can at least get an apartment together.”
“I live in Miami. My home is there, my family is there. How could you make this decision without asking me?”
“You were gone, and there was a deadline.”
“I’ve been gone for three months, barely. Are you telling me you got into medical school in three months, without any premeditation?”
Aaron looked away from the camera and hung his head. Ginnifer took a deep breath, and then considered her own position. It didn’t feel right to guilt him when she was more or less cheating on him. And the more she thought about the past few weeks, and about Zane, the calmer she became.
“Aaron, I think we should break up.”
As soon as she said it, Ginnifer realized that it was what she’d wanted to do the entire time. There was no ambivalence, only a sense of peace.
Aaron shook his head violently. “Stop being dramatic. We can talk about this.”
“It’s not just medical school,” she said, her voice softening. “I think we both jumped into this relationship wanting different things, and it’s better if we end it now, before we complicate it with marriage and children.”
“Is this about the wedding? We can get married sooner if you want.”
“I don’t want to marry you, I—”
His face hardened. “Is it someone else? Is it Boaz?”
“No, it’s not Boaz,” she said, giving him a wan smile. “But I did meet someone. I’m not leaving you for him, but he—”
Aaron slammed his fist down on his desk. “You aren’t breaking up with me from the North Pole, or wherever the hell you are. You’re not breaking up with me at all. We’re going to work this out.”
“I’ll talk to you when I get back.”
Ginnifer hung up. Aaron immediately tried calling back, but she logged out of Skype. Nothing productive would come of arguing, not when she’d already made up her mind. She hoped that in a few years, Aaron would see that this was the best thing for both of them.
“Damn.”
Ginnifer whirled around to see Jack standing behind her, leaning on a broomstick. “You really aren’t one of them.” He shifted the toothpick to the other side of hi
s mouth. “So, does this mean you’re single now?”
***
“I have to go with her.”
Zane stood outside the clinic with Enzo, their breaths fogging in the chilly air. Past Enzo, through the clinic window, Zane could see the receptionist on the telephone, arranging a flight for Marl.
It still perturbed Zane to see how pale and feeble Marl had become in only a few days time. They had all known she was old, but she’d been such a constant in Siluit. Zane had been an older pup when she’d come to the den with Enzo, two years his junior but half his size. She would often bathe them together, much to Zane’s chagrin, and had always lectured Zane about not cleaning behind his ears. Marl had been there even before Jill, and Zane had never considered she wouldn’t be there to help tend to his own pups.
“You can’t help her,” Zane said. “And it’s not safe for you in the city.”
Tomorrow morning, they’d be flying Marl to a hospital, where she could get the care she needed. After that, she would remain in the city for long-term care. While some shifters could stand to live around humans with all of the noise, smells, and repression, few who had ever known a life of freedom would be able to handle such an existence.
“I’ll manage,” Enzo said tightly. “I’m sorry, Zane. I don’t mean to seem insubordinate, but…you don’t understand. She’s my mother.”
Zane’s expression was a stone mask as Enzo put a hand on the door.
“I’ll make my way back, once it’s over.”
He opened the door and went inside, leaving Zane to stand, staring at where he’d been. There was a light tapping of footsteps behind him, and when he turned, Ginnifer was there, holding a small paper box and a soda can.
“I didn’t smell you,” he said, frowning. “The stench in this place is overpowering.”
Ginnifer made a show of sniffing the air, though he knew she wouldn’t be able to smell the things he could—burning fuels, decaying refuse, and human waste. It was enough to turn his stomach.
“It’s not all bad.” She pulled the cover from the box, revealing a mess of bread-crusted fruit. “Jack’s mom owns the diner! He got me some of this cobbler. It’s amazing.”
She wore an eager smile as she held it up to him, and Zane picked at a piece of the crust. He put it in his mouth and tried not to gag as he swallowed it. His stomach rarely tolerated anything besides meat.
“Who is Jack?” he asked.
“That would be me,” a tall youth said, as he jogged to catch up to Ginnifer.
Ginnifer said, “I had too much to carry, so Jack offered to help.”
Jack’s brows went up as he took in Zane, but all he asked was, “Are you Ginnifer’s boyfriend?”
“He’s my friend,” Ginnifer said through a mouthful of cobbler.
Friend. The word made Zane’s lip curl.
Jack said, “Cool. Then I can give you this.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and slipped it into one of the bags he carried. “If you’re ever in Trent and you need anything—something to eat, a shoulder to cry on, a place to stay, you give me a call and I’ll hook you up.”
Zane felt tension building inside of him with each word from the boy’s mouth. Before Ginnifer could swallow her next bite of cobbler, Zane snatched the bags up in one hand.
“She doesn’t need anything from you.”
Ginnifer stepped between them. “Thank you, Jack. For everything.”
Jack cast Zane a wary look, and then tipped his hat at Ginnifer. “See you around, Ginny.”
Zane’s teeth gnashed together as he watched the male walk away. Then his hand went into the bag, and he pulled out the piece of paper. It had Jack’s name, his phone number, and one sentence:
See you in my dreams.
He crumpled the paper in his fist. When he finally looked down, Ginnifer was glaring up at him. The effect of her angry stare was somewhat dampened by the blueberry syrup smudged above her lips.
“Jealously isn’t an attractive color on you,” she said flatly.
Zane scoffed. “I am not jealous of that male, or any of your males.”
He knew he was being an asshole, but it took her hurt look to cut through his haze of malcontent. Before he could dig himself into a deeper hole, he cupped her cheek in his free hand.
“I should not have said that.”
The tension in him eased as she leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut. He stroked the side of her face, wishing she wasn’t carrying so many things so that he could pull her into his arms. Inside him, his wolf was pacing, desperate for contact with her. He wanted to rub his scent all over her, every part of her. He wanted to mark her, so that other males would stop sniffing around his female, so that she would never again call him her friend.
“How’s Marl?”
“Dying,” he said bluntly.
Her eyes opened, but she didn’t seem surprised. “I’m so sorry.”
Zane recounted what the doctor had said, and how Enzo planned on going with his mother. She listened, her face somber.
When he finished, she asked, “Will we be staying here tonight? Jack’s cousin owns a bed and breakfast.”
At the mention of Jack, a fresh wave of anger rolled over him, though he did his best to hide it.
“We’re taking the eastern pass back, it’s twice as much ground to cover, so we’ll need to leave as soon as possible.”
Ginnifer nodded, though she wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes drifted over the town, and she took a long sip of her drink, emptying the can.
“I can stay here for a few days, and wait for Boaz and the others to come. Oh, crap!” She shot up. “I forgot to call his mom.”
Zane grabbed her arm. “We don’t have time for that. We need to leave.”
He needed to get away from this place, the smells, the dying, Jack, he needed to get away and he couldn’t leave her behind, not unless he wanted his wolf to go fucking insane. The animal was growing more frustrated by the day, urging him to take her, to mark her as his own. He couldn’t be close to her, and he couldn’t be apart from her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Traveling was much easier without having Marl with them, and within two days the forest began to thin as it yielded to the hard ground of the tundra. Rather than sleeping full nights, Zane would stop now and again, taking the opportunity to catch an hour or two of sleep whenever they found shelter. The stops were too far apart for Ginnifer, and when Zane woke her after such a short time, she felt as though she’d rather not sleep at all, than take her rest in a series of naps. Sometimes she tried to stay awake for just that reason, but exhaustion would overtake her, usually not long before Zane would be waking up to leave.
She didn’t complain about the hard pace. It kept them too tired to acknowledge that they were alone with one another, which was something she desperately needed.
Ending things with Aaron had been the right thing to do. Although she’d been confident in her decision, and then glad when it was finally over, the past two days hadn’t been without the occasional moment of doubt. It wasn’t Aaron that she missed, it was the vision of the future, the one she’d held for seven years, when he had first proposed to her. She imagined the house that they would have bought, now being lived in by another couple. The children they were supposed to have had popped like soap bubbles, and she saw herself growing old alone now, or with some other man, one that she didn’t yet know and had a difficult time conceptualizing.
It definitely wouldn’t be Zane.
He would mate with Coral, probably not long after they got back to the den. However much he was adverse to it, she believed that they would come to care for one another as the years passed. And even if they wouldn’t, it still wasn’t her place to get between them, especially not because she was feeling lonely and confused.
By the third evening, Ginnifer’s legs shook as she climbed off Zane’s back. Her body felt devoid of energy as she staggered into the icy cave. She waited for him in the mouth of the cave, where the
glow of early evening light still penetrated the blackness. That was another thing she didn’t like about the places he chose to rest—they were always dark.
A moment later, he stepped in behind her in his human form, his pelt wrapped over his shoulders. There were circles under his eyes and his face was unshaven, but it did nothing to diminish his appeal. She looked away, focusing her attention on the icicles above him.
“It’s going to snow,” he told her, sitting down a few paces into the cave.
Ginnifer put her bags down and sat across from him, drawing her knees up to her chest.
“How can you tell?”
Zane glanced up at the sky, which held the same steel-gray clouds Ginnifer had seen every day since they’d left Siluit. He lifted a shoulder and gave her a half-smile.
“I guess it’s a wolf thing.”
“Fair enough,” she said, ignoring the tickling sensation in her belly.
She dug through her bag, pushing aside dozens of empty wrappers. After her call to Aaron, she’d known that she would need some chocolate therapy, and had purchased an assortment of wildly overpriced candy bars from Jack. She was dismayed to find that there were only two left.
“Okay,” she said, holding one up in each hand. “I have a Mr. Big and a Coffee Crisp. I think I might also have some ketchup chips in here, if you’re feeling bold.”
“I am feeling tired,” he said, but he was staring at her as though he could watch her all night.
“Want something fresh to eat? I saw some caribou a little ways back.”
They’d been back in Siluit territory for a few hours, and she was craving something besides candy bars and the rations of dried meat they’d brought.
“You want me to catch a whole caribou for only the two of us?” Now, he was looking at her as though he thought she was the most entertaining thing in the world.
She stretched out her legs, so that her feet could almost touch his. “Well, I was thinking I’d hunt it and you could do the cooking.”
“So long as you skin it,” he said, his eyelids falling lower each time he blinked. “I will hunt for us in the morning.”
Capturing the Alpha (Shifters of Nunavut Book 1) Page 15
