by MJ Compton
Granny’s expression said she was concerned, but how could she be? Luke’s family had to hate her.
“I think she has a lot on her mind, Mom,” Macy said.
“If she’s not bleeding, she’s okay,” Colette added. She smiled at Abby. “You look as if you’re scared to death of us. Don’t be. We’re not angry with you, but with Luke for treating you so badly. I thought I raised him better than that.”
They needed to know the truth. “He wasn’t the only one in the truck that night,” Abby whispered. Then she realized how bad that sounded. “I mean, he didn’t force me or anything like that.” Indeed. The things that had happened that night were some of her fondest memories.
“I’m going to fix her some squaw tea,” Granny said. “Just to be on the safe side.” Granny left Abby with Colette and Macy.
Colette sat on the edge of the mattress and took Abby’s hand in her own, which bordered on feverishly hot. “What happened between you and Luke was completely natural. Completely normal. If you weren’t supposed to be his . . . woman, nothing could have happened. And don’t worry. Luke will make this up to you.”
“I don’t want anything from him.” Abby knew she sounded miserable, but then she was. Mama had married Gary so Abby and Libby could keep their home in Oak Moon, so Gary could take care of them. Look how well that turned out. Abby was not going to step into a similar trap.
Libby. Oh, dear God, she had to get Libby out of there. Before Gary—
She swung her legs to the floor. “I have to go.”
“The bathroom is the first door on the left,” Macy said.
“No. I need to go home. My sister—Gary will—”
Colette stood. “I’ll let Tokarz know.” She followed Granny from the room.
“Tokarz?”
Macy tucked the blankets around Abby’s legs, helped her settle into bed again. “That’s Toke Lobo’s real name.”
“I need the police, not a country music cowboy.”
“You need to stop worrying over nothing. The stress can’t be good for the baby. You’re going to need to control your emotions, or you’ll be swilling Mom’s squaw tea for the next several months. Trust me, you won’t want to do that.”
“Do what?” Granny asked as she came into the room with a steaming mug in her hand. The smell coming from the tea was awful.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Macy muttered, as she stepped away to make room for Granny.
An eerie howl shattered the stillness of the night. The wolf sounded close. Loup Garou was higher up the mountain than Oak Moon, closer to wolf territory. Abby drew her knees to her chest. The animal sounded as if it were right outside her window. A more distant wolf answered the call.
“Drink this.” Granny thrust the mug at her. “It’s an old native concoction that’s quite effective.”
The odor was enough to make Abby want to vomit. She held her breath and took a sip. The liquid scalded her tongue. That was one way to avoid tasting something that smelled like sewage.
“Effective at what?” Abby couldn’t help but be suspicious. For all she knew, these women were putting on an act and were really plotting to abet Gary.
“Keeping the baby safe in its mother.” Granny’s blue gaze bored into Abby’s eyes. “Making the mother strong enough to carry the baby. Keeping you pregnant.”
“What?” Macy stared at Abby, too. “Mom wouldn’t be trying to make you miscarry while the males are arranging your mating—marriage to Luke.”
“Marriage?” Abby must have missed that, distracted by the really weird use of language. And Macy had just done it again. Male instead of men. And mating? She’d thought her terror had done something to her hearing, but she wasn’t as scared now as she had been at the hall. And Macy had definitely said male. Maybe it was some kind of code talking in Loup Garou.
“What did you think we meant when we said Luke would make things right?”
“Child support payments,” Abby muttered. Married? To Luke Omega? The thought boggled what was left of her mind.
There was her parents’ marriage, before a freak accident killed her father. Once upon a time, when she’d still been a dreamer, their life had been her ideal. Two adults who loved each other and their children. Nobody using anyone else for their own purposes. A family agenda.
And then there was Gary.
Mama had known she was sick, but not as desperately ill as she really was. Gary, who’d known her father, started stopping by the house. He’d acted pleasant enough, interested not only in Mama, but also Libby and Abby. When Mama accepted his proposal, she explained her motives to her daughters. “I’m not trying to replace your daddy. But Gary’s nice, and he has a steady job at the brewery, along with health benefits. It’ll be good to have a man in the house again.”
Mama had traded her daughters for health insurance.
And if Abby had anything to say about it, her mother would never know what she’d done.
“Drink up.” Granny tapped the bottom of the mug with her forefinger.
Abby made a face, held her breath, and chugged.
Colette returned to the bedroom. Her cheeks were flushed, her pale hair windblown. She carried the scent of the autumn night with her. “Done. Don’t fret about your sister. Tokarz will send someone to watch her. Trust me. After what we all witnessed earlier tonight, no one is taking any chances.”
“What Colette is trying to say,” Macy said, “is that you are now safer than you’ve ever been in your lives.”
The porch light was on at Tokarz’s house in the center of Loup Garou. The Garniers had led the pack since emigrating from France in the eighteenth century. Keeping their homestead in the center of their town made it easy to run things.
Luke was numb as he mounted the porch steps. The door opened, silent as the night. Tokarz filled the frame. “Delilah finally got Daniel to sleep,” he said. “I didn’t want the doorbell to wake him.”
Babies. There were babies all over Loup Garou these days. Tokarz and his human wife had a son. Hank Hawkins, who played bass in the band, had recently mated with a pregnant woman. Baby Charlotte Eleanor was full-blooded human, but adored by the pack. Rumor had it keyboard player Stoker Smith’s human wife was pregnant, too.
And Luke now was going to be a father.
Gary’s words hadn’t clicked before. Luke’s knees wobbled. He wanted to sit. Because he was going to be a father. There was a baby. A sweet, helpless innocent being who was part of him.
And that scat-eating, son-of-a-diarrhea-drinking vampire Gary Porter had beaten that baby’s mother. Gary had to die.
Luke was about to turn around when his father grabbed his elbow.
“Thanks for the audience,” Gramps said.
“Sorry about your wife’s birthday party,” Tokarz replied. He led them to his office in the front of the house.
“Not your doing. And hearing she’s going to be a great-grandmother really was the best birthday gift she could have gotten.”
Smooth, Luke thought. Gramps had years of practice sucking up to pack leadership.
Luke kept his mouth shut while his grandfather explained about the pill and the picnic. Not the part about Luke’s motivation. Tokarz wouldn’t understand what it was like being omega. Luke uttered a prayer of thanksgiving to the Ancient Ones that his father and grandfather were standing by him.
“That’s all fine and well,” Tokarz said when Gramps was done, “but the fact is Luke has to marry the girl. He has to admit the child is his.”
“I don’t deny it might be,” Luke said.
“What if Gary demands a paternity test?”
Chills and perspiration took turns battering Luke.
“We can’t allow a DNA test. Any kind of paternity test. You know that.”
“I�
�m not denying I’m the father. I think it was her first time, too. I thought I smelled blood. Don’t women bleed the first time?”
“Did you hurt her?” Tokarz’s tone was sharp.
“No, and I made damned sure she was happy, too.”
Tokarz nodded. “You have to make it official, Luke. You can’t send her back.”
“Can’t she live with Granny and Gramps?”
“No.” Tokarz’s tone was cold. “I don’t know how mating works with you. She might really be your mate, and you simply don’t know what signs you’re looking for.”
There it was again. Tokarz’s jab was more subtle than some of the other crap he’d been dished over the years, but the prejudice was there. It was always there.
“Mating worked fine for me,” Marcus said.
“Your human blood had nothing else to compare mating to. Luke has been . . . exposed to things. Like pornography.”
Luke braced himself for yet another lecture. Werewolves didn’t understand the allure. They weren’t hardwired to be sexual with anyone but their fated mates.
“I put up with all the online sailing—”
“Surfing,” Luke muttered.
“I put up with all the womanizing after the shows,” Tokarz continued as if Luke hadn’t spoken. “And that makes me a bad leader. A bad alpha. I should have put my foot down about your behavior. I’m responsible for this mess, too. And we’re going to make it right. That babe is going to be not quite half lycan. We’ve seen what environment Abigail isn’t thriving in. We have to keep her here.”
“Of course,” Luke agreed. He wasn’t going near the porn-womanizing topic. Especially in front of his father and grandfather, who, as far as he knew, were ignorant of his on-the-road activities. “As my grandfather said, I will support the woman and the baby. I don’t deny my responsibility. I only ask that I not be bound to her with a human marriage. Not forced to take her as my mate. I want to be available when the Ancient Ones lead me to my true soul mate.”
“Luke, Luke, Luke.” Tokarz shook his head, his yellow curls bouncing on his shoulders. “Do you listen to yourself? Do you understand how you use your mixed heritage as a convenient excuse for selfishness?”
Not something a guy wanted to hear from his alpha. “What?”
“I’ve been listening to you excuse your fondness for pornography as your human blood at work, and yet you stand in front of me and try to tell me you are lycan, that you want a lycan life. A werewolf doesn’t watch porn. A werewolf doesn’t swallow pills to make his private parts hard so he can have sex with a random woman. A lycan waits for his mate before having sex. So if you want the lycan life you claim to desire, welcome to the mated state. You fucked her, she must be your mate.”
Bitter bile filled Luke’s mouth. It was all he could do to keep from puking on his alpha’s floor.
“Restin found the marriage requirements. You both need government issued ID. A license is thirty dollars. You will go to the county seat tomorrow, with Abigail, and procure the license. Restin will accompany you. He will also stop at Abigail’s home so she can pack her belongings. And keep you in line.”
Luke couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t pull oxygen into his lungs. He couldn’t even see for the red haze clouding his vision.
“Oh. And one more thing. Where are the songs you promised to show me?”
Chapter 4
“I don’t have a driver’s license.”
“Everybody has a driver’s license,” Luke said. Even sixteen-year-old werewolves had driver’s licenses. It was un-American not to possess one.
“Not if your father was killed in a trucking accident and your mother was too scared to let you learn to drive.”
“Oh.”
They were standing on his grandparents’ porch, waiting for Restin. Luke would have rather had anyone else in the pack escorting them, but Restin was the pack beta. And Tokarz’s cousin. He caught a lot of the less desirable responsibilities of leadership. He was also a power hungry vampire, and that wasn’t a rumor. Luke had first-hand experience. Restin played fiddle for Toke Lobo and the Pack. They spent way too much time together.
Abigail looked as tired as he felt. The prettiness he remembered had faded with the summer. Maybe once the bruises were gone, her sparkle would return.
Like most werewolves, he tended to be nocturnal and had stayed up after his audience with Tokarz playing his drums. Sometimes hitting those skins with his sticks was the only outlet he had for the inherent violence of his lycan blood. Tokarz had laid a lot of crap on him, including the status of the songs Abigail had written. Luke didn’t know what he’d done with them, so he’d had to search for those, too. He usually went to bed with the dawn. Unfortunately, bureaucracy didn’t cooperate with his natural rhythms. He’d sleep after he got married.
He wondered what Abigail’s excuse was.
“Look,” Luke said. He tried not to let his exasperation creep into his voice. Impatience wouldn’t help an already dreadful situation. “I’m trying to do right by you. For a change. I admit it. Okay? Give me some help.”
“I have to get Libby out of there.”
Right. The kid sister. Who was a pain in the flank.
“That’s being taken care of. Tokarz sent a guard last night, and since we haven’t heard anything from him, your sister is okay.”
The band was going on tour starting that weekend. Luke didn’t care who Abigail had hanging around. Having a wife wasn’t going to change anything.
Granny would extend an invitation to Abigail for the monthly gathering at the lodge. All the older women who could no longer shift, the pregnant women, and the pre-adolescent members of the tribe gathered on the full moon for their own lunar celebration. Abigail and her sister couldn’t be left alone. Granny would know that. Full moons in Loup Garou were hairy. Very hairy. And toothy, too.
“No, I mean I have to get her out of that house today.”
“You think your stepfather will hit her? Won’t your mom protect her?”
The look Abigail bestowed on him could have melted diamonds. “My mother is too out of it to know what’s going on. If she wasn’t dying, I’d bring her with me too. Remember the night you took me home and an ambulance was there?”
Luke nodded.
“We almost lost her that night. That’s when we called in hospice.”
Luke figured he could always kill Gary and the three women could stay in their own house in Oak Moon. That would be his ideal solution. But he couldn’t think like that. Tokarz had been crystal clear about what Luke needed to do.
“Can hospice move her to Loup Garou?” It wasn’t as if he and Abigail were in the throes of uncontrollable passion, although Luke wouldn’t have minded a repeat or two of that night in his truck. Although the pills had stopped working for him, his cock seemed to recognize Abigail. Wanted to say hello to her.
Abigail shook her head. “But thank you for the thought.”
She still wore her sagging jeans and ugly gray sweater. While Luke didn’t expect her to don a fancy white wedding gown, he felt she should at least try to be attractive on her wedding day. He wore black trousers and a white dress shirt for the occasion. “I have a student ID,” Abigail said. “But it’s at home.”
“We’ll go there first,” Luke said. “You can pack your stuff. Change your clothes.”
Restin pulled up in his Grand Cherokee.
Scat. This wasn’t going to work. He normally would have sat in front with Restin, but he was supposed to be playing the loving groom. Which meant sitting in the back with Abigail. If she were his true mate, this would all come naturally to him. But it didn’t. Another sign he’d messed up big time.
He opened the door for her, then helped boost her into the high-riding vehicle. He didn’t remember her being so short. He half expected
his palms to be scorched from touching her.
“Well, pups,” Restin said. “Ready to get married?”
“We’re going to her house first,” Luke said.
“I have my orders. Wedding first.”
“No wedding without her ID.”
It was such a minuscule victory it shouldn’t have mattered, but Luke savored every triumph over Restin’s arrogance.
They were about half-way to Oak Moon when Abigail said, “Stop the car. Please.”
She pulled on the door handle. Luke grabbed her before she fell out of the still-moving vehicle. And got to watch her lose what must have been one of his grandmother’s substantial breakfasts. Puke sprayed along the outside of Restin’s vehicle before he finally stopped.
“She asked,” Luke said before Restin could embarrass her. “You took those curves way too fast. She’s pregnant. Use your head. You were around Delilah when she was first pregnant.”
Restin glared at him. Tokarz’s wife claimed Restin had Berserker eyes, and Luke caught a glimpse of what Delilah meant.
“Sorry,” Abigail finally muttered. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Do you have a bottle of water?” Luke asked Restin.
Score another one against Restin. Maybe the day wasn’t going to be as bad as Luke thought. Abigail didn’t even know she was teaming up with him against the arrogant beta. Luke wasn’t used to having anyone on his side.
“No.” Restin’s response was curt.
Most werewolves didn’t like bottled water because it tasted too plastic. The best water was fresh from a spring, bubbling up from the earth.
“Well, see if you can find some,” Luke snapped.
“She’s your mate, not mine, Omega.”
“And your alpha put you in charge of us.”
