by Robin Moray
"Remember when you killed my friend?" Her glare was hot enough to sear. "Remember that?"
"She attacked me," Callum argued, for what felt like the zillionth time. "I was defending myself."
"Oh, well, I guess that makes it okay then." She shot him a foul look, mouth twisting up sarcastically. "Let's be best friends. We can tell ghost stories and braid each other's fucking hair." She shook her head. "Ugh. I can't believe Nero's really–" but she broke off, making a sour face.
"Don't tell me you're jealous," Callum said, meaning to needle, but Ria just burst out laughing, as if it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard.
"Oh ... oh my god, no." Okay, she was definitely laughing at him. And now she wouldn't stop. "Jealous? Of ... what, you think I haven't already had him?"
Callum didn't know what to believe, but the thought of Ria, with her glossy hair and amber eyes, of Ria with Nero made him feel ... not good. "As if I care if you have."
"Yeah." She shot him a knowing look. "Now who's jealous?"
Callum hunched down in his seat. He didn't care. He didn't care about any of it. He just wanted to get it over and done with, just complete the bond and get the fuck out of Raglan.
"You know, if I had my way, we'd dump your body in a canyon and let the coyote chew on you." she said it conversationally, as if she were talking about a picnic they were planning together. "Nero can take some other bond mate and move on, without one more of Holly's fuck-ups sticking to him like a burr."
Callum glared at her from his corner. "I thought you said she was your friend."
"She was. And she was a crazy bitch. It's kindof a prerequisite, you know? For my friends."
That made no sense. Callum tried to ignore her, but it was hard when he was trapped in a truck with her and she just kept talking.
"But, it looks like he's made up his mind. I don't like it. It's not natural, wolves and humans. Never works out. I tried it once, but he was funny about all the fur and claws, and things got ugly after that."
Callum hesitated, and then– "You killed him."
"What? No!" She raised her eyebrows. "Jeez. He told the police and got himself locked up. Capgras delusion."
That sounded ... reasonable. "Yeah, well, I'm not stupid enough to try telling anyone who wouldn't believe me."
"Like your sister?" Ria didn't look at him, appeared to be concentrating on the road, but he didn't miss the too-casual way she said it. "Better be careful, there. She's got a reputation, your Jackie. Someone who heard her say 'werewolves' might think she'd lost her mind. Wouldn't want that."
It was a threat, even if it was a bad one. Callum had to bite his tongue to keep himself from saying something unmistakably rude.
At the house, Ria parked the truck and got out, tossing the keys in the glovebox as if that hadn't just gotten her truck stolen. She didn't wait for Callum, so Callum ended up trailing behind her up the walk to the back entrance. She let the door bang in his face, too, and he was sure that was deliberate.
"One squishy human," she drawled. "As requested."
Callum glared at her back, and then glanced around the room, feeling awkward and self-conscious.
The kitchen was mostly deserted; a young white man was carving a roast at the counter, laying the slices on a platter next to root vegetables and a dish of green beans. The meat was pretty rare, but less than Callum would have expected. He paused when Callum came in, frowned, and then resumed his carving.
A girl in her teens was leaning up against the counter, eating a piece of potato. She spoke with her mouth full, "Hi. You hungry?" She swallowed, and took another bite, still talking through it. "There's peanut butter and jelly, if you're, you know, vegetarian." She said it like a curse word.
Callum expected someone to tell her off for talking with her mouth full, but no-one did. He cleared his throat. "Hi. Thanks. I'm not, though. Vegetarian."
"Oh, thank god," the young man muttered, and then he exchanged looks with the girl. "Go on, then. Put the plates out. It's getting cold."
She made a familiar teenage noise of disgust and reluctantly started to help.
Callum didn't know what he was supposed to do. Suddenly, he felt like he should have brought something. Like ... a bottle of wine? Except no, that would be weird. Still. "Can I help with anything?"
They all stared at him, and then Ria snorted. "He's like a space-man. From space."
The young man cleared his throat. "No. Thank-you."
Callum hesitated, still awkward. "Then ... what should I do?"
It was weird the way the guy wouldn't meet his eye. They were about the same age, similar height, but Callum was broad in the shoulders and heavier. This guy was rangy, but he was curled in on himself as though trying to look smaller.
He glanced up; his eyes were very blue, and he looked tired. "Whatever you like," he said.
Ria sighed and walked out. Callum nearly followed her but, ugh, no. He didn't even like her.
"Sure I can't help with anything?" There was a tin of gravy powder on the counter. "I can make gravy."
"Um," and he glanced at the teenager, who was watching them avidly. "You don't have to. But if you want?"
Callum took the tin, and the tray of meat juices, and tried to make gravy without screwing it up under the girl's intense scrutiny.
"You're cute," she said suddenly, making him drop the spoon. She had crept up to his elbow without him noticing. Bloody werewolves. "But you talk funny."
"I've been in England."
She grinned at him. "Can you sound like Tom Hiddleston?"
"Uh, no."
It seemed to disappoint her, but not deter her much. "Do you eat crumpets?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you like Lily Allen?"
Callum shrugged. "She's okay?"
"Ugh, just leave him alone." The young man had finished the meat and covered it, and now he was hovering near the counter, looking unhappy. "Don't bother him."
The girl pouted. "I'm not! I'm being nice. I'm making conversation." She turned back to Callum, and her smile was ... wolfy. "Don't listen to Michael. No-one listens to Michael."
Callum wondered how Michael felt about that. "Hi Michael," he said. Michael just sort of shrugged, apparently embarrassed. "I'm Callum."
"We know," the girl said, rolling her eyes. "I'm Vera."
Well. That was awkward. Callum held up the gravy jug. "Ready?"
* * *
Dinner was messy, but not as messy as Callum had been afraid of. Everyone took food from the table like it was a buffet, but there was a particular kind of order to it that Callum didn't follow. Ria helped herself, ignoring everyone, and took her plate off to a chair to eat on her knees. Hamish seemed to need to be actively holding the serving tongs for the meat at all times, and smacked the hands of anyone who tried to take more than he seemed to think they deserved. Everyone else just sort of squabbled over the vegetables.
Except Nero. When he came in everyone made room for him, none of them really acknowledging it but getting out of his way all the same. He ignored Hamish, piled up two plates, and handed one wordlessly to Callum. Then he rubbed the palm of his hand all down one side of Callum's face, in a sort of semi-affectionate fondle. Scent marking, again.
"Sit. Eat. Do you want bread?"
"Um, yeah?"
Vera, who seemed to have attached herself to him throughout all this, snagged the bread basket and offered it up with a grin.
Callum was about to take a slice when Nero made a low, angry noise, and yanked the basket out of Vera's hands. She sucked in a breath, almost laughing, and shrugged. Nero glared at her, and then he presented the basket to Callum.
Right. That wasn't weird at all. Callum took a piece of bread, said thank-you sort of to both of them, and sunk back into his chair, trying to ignore the feeling that he was a complete outsider.
The rest of them – Nero's pack – moved around each other as though they belonged together. It was all very casual, with some shoving, some bickering, but i
t was like ...
Hamish laughed at something Michael had muttered and reached over to scuff up his hair in the back. Michael shook him off, scowling, but when he turned his head the scowl slipped into something softer. Two older women and a young boy were having an intense discussion about local sports that seemed to involve a lot of handwaving. A pair of men a little older than Callum were half-sprawled on each other over two chairs in a corner. One of them was holding a toddler, or rather the toddler was clinging to his side and he was trying to detach it while the other one laughed and refused to help.
They were family. It seemed so obvious now, Callum couldn't understand why he hadn't realised it before. Of course they were family. They were a pack.
Which meant that Nero had invited him home to meet his family, like ... huh.
Nero handed him a glass of wine.
"Thank-you," Callum said, feeling warm and strange, and something about his tone must have registered because Nero blinked at him, frowned a little, and bunted Callum's knee with own.
"Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, it's all good."
Vera leaned over, almost-but-not-quite squished up against Callum's arm. "Did you try the gravy? Callum made the gravy. And it's not even lumpy."
Nero looked surprised, and annoyed. "You made him drudge for you in the kitchen?"
Vera gave him some impressive side-eye. "Yeah, that's what happened. We had him scrubbing pots and everything."
Nero's expression darkened, but Callum ducked in between them. "Hey! She's kidding. I asked if I could help. It's just gravy, no big deal." He rubbed the back of his hand down the side of Nero's knee, trying to soothe, and it seemed to work.
Right up until Vera snorted, apparently trying not to giggle. "Oh my god, he's so cute."
"He is not for you," Nero snarled, and, right, perfect. Now this was happening.
Vera rolled her eyes, but she was clearly enjoying herself. "Maybe he's got a brother, then. Do you?" She leaned in, again almost-but-not-quite touching him, and the noise that came up in Nero's throat sounded so ominous Callum wouldn't have been surprised if he had reached over to push her physically away.
"No," Callum said, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do about it. "Just a sister."
"Older or younger?"
"Six years older."
"Huh." Vera shot Nero a sly look. "Does she boss you around?"
Callum couldn't help it; he snorted. "Hell, yeah. She's a monster."
"It bites, being the youngest," Vera said. "No-one lets you do anything, and everyone knows better than you, and no-one ever listens."
"¡Basta!" Nero growled, showing his teeth
Her eyes flashed, for a moment burning a clear bright silver, and Callum remembered that, yeah, she was a werewolf too. He'd almost forgotten.
"I'm just trying to be nice! No-one else will even talk to him."
"I know what you're doing. Stop it."
Vera sank back in her chair, sulking and focussing on her food. It seemed unfair, but Callum let it go, because there was no point getting involved.
But ... they were a family. And Vera was right, they were mostly ignoring him.
Because he was human? Or because of Holly?
"Are you finished?" Nero asked quietly, touching Callum's arm very lightly.
"Yeah. Thank-you. It was good."
Nero nodded and took his plate.
People had started to migrate out of the dining room, and now Nero did too. He led Callum to the den where Callum had ... he remembered it as dark, frightening. He'd thought he'd been going to die and, just walking in brought back his panic. He stiffened, tried to hide it, but Nero's head snapped around, staring fiercely at him. Vera too, hovering a few steps back; she came up, reaching out but not touching him
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Callum lied, and they both – goddamn it – wrinkled their noses, exactly the same. Bloody lie-detecting werewolves. "I'm fine," Callum insisted, and Vera looked up at Nero, who shook his head, fingers tightening around Callum's arm.
"We can go upstairs where it's quieter."
Callum let out a breath and, fuck it, it was just a room. Someone had pulled out a guitar and was playing it softly, and someone else was trying to get them to stop. There were beanbags, for god's sake. Who was afraid of beanbags? And they'd dealt with Holly, now, cremated her or whatever. It was just a room.
"I'm good. Come on."
Nero pulled Callum down onto a couch and then, to Callum's mortification, proceeded to wrap himself around Callum like a meaty wolf-blanket. He wasn't satisfied until he had Callum exactly where he wanted him, and then he rubbed his cheek up against Callum's ear. "Good?"
It was ridiculous levels of PDA, but no-one seemed to care, and really it was no more snuggling than those two with the toddler, anyway, and no-one was paying any attention to that either.
The guitar playing went on. Someone started to sing along. Vera appeared at one point with another glass of wine for him. She looked at them on the couch and made a disgusted face. "You're so gross."
Callum just hunched up, embarrassed. But really, it was comfortable, lying up against Nero's chest. Nero stroked his arm. After a while an older lady came over and Nero shifted to make room for her on the couch. She didn't talk to Callum but she nodded to him, acknowledged he was there at least, before asking Nero about something Callum didn't follow.
Vera brought the toddler over at one point, held it out at arm's length and said, "Do you like babies?"
"That's not a baby anymore," Callum said, and Vera grinned.
"Oh, you're an expert then. Good. Wanna hold him?"
The toddler was squirming to get away, making vague sounds of frustration, but Vera just tipped him upside down and he laughed, grabbing at her.
"I don't think he wants to be held," Callum said.
Vera just sighed. "Expert, again. Fine." She put the toddler down and immediately it wobbled to its feet, and then made a wonky bee-line for the chick with the guitar.
Callum noticed Nero had gone very still. "What?"
"Do you like children?" It was neutral, as far as Callum could tell. Far too neutral.
"Yeah?"
Nero made a low noise, but ventured nothing else, just uncoiled himself and slid off the couch to his feet. "Come. Upstairs."
Callum took the offered hand and hauled himself up. Vera seemed sorry to see him go. "Are you staying for breakfast?"
It was – Callum felt his face go hot and red. She knew. She sounded so ... knowing. Of course, they all knew exactly why he was there, and what Nero wanted from him. But hearing it from a girl so young ... but she wasn't, really, that much younger than he was. Sixteen? The things he was getting up when he was sixteen.
Holy hell. "I ... yeah. I think so."
She seemed satisfied. "Michael's making pancakes. He promised. I'll make him save you some."
Well, at least it seemed he'd made a friend.
* * *
Nero caught Ria's heartbeat on the stairs, heard her lurking in the shadows. "Go up," he told Callum. "I'll be a moment." The human looked startled, but he nodded, taking the stairs two at a time with his long, strong legs. Nero listened for the open and close of a door, and then ducked into the corridor tucked behind the stairwell.
Ria was leant against the wall but she came up off it in a smooth movement as soon as he rounded the doorway.
"What are you doing?" She spread her hands wide. "I know what it looks like you're doing. Tell me I'm wrong."
Nero caught her gaze and held it until she broke away, but it bothered him how long it took her to back down. She was growing more insubordinate by the hour and he would have to put a stop to it soon or perhaps it would not be Hamish who challenged him. And yet. Her insubordination tasted of Hamish. Perhaps he encouraged her, hoping Nero would be distracted and undermined.
But, in any case, she was the one here now, not Hamish, and Nero had to deal with her.
"What doe
s it look like to you?"
"Like you're bringing him into the pack."
Nero waited, watching her until she grew uncomfortable. "And why would I tell you that's not what I'm doing?"
"Because! He killed Holly, he should die for it." The anger, at least, was her own. He could tell how she wanted to shift now, still in the tail of the full moon, how she wanted to howl at him. But she had enough respect for him left not to do it.
"Or replace her. According to the law."
The idea seemed to offend her. "He can't replace her. He can't give you cubs."
"And neither did Holly," Nero said, letting his annoyance seep into his voice. "How is he unsuited, then?"
"He's still human."
Nero frowned. "This bothers you."
"He'll turn on us." She sounded so sure.
"Not when he's bonded to me."
"And how's that going?" Ria refused to look away from his glare, though her chin went down as though she wanted to. She folded her arms, shoulders hunching. "He ran away. He's not one of us. We should kill him now before he exposes us."
"He came back. He agreed to the bond. When it's done, he won't betray us," Nero insisted, but Ria took a step forward, defiance straightening her spine.
"He's too stubborn! He won't back down. Are you sure you can even make him submit?"
How dare she. Nero snarled, but she held her ground, and he thought, This, Holly, you've reduced me to. A paper alpha in your garden of cankers. If only I'd never met you.
"He will submit to me," Nero growled, "and it will be willing. And when he does, I will make a better mate of him than Holly could have ever been."
He turned his back on her, walked away, but she said, just loud enough for him to hear, "He's not Holly. And neither are you. Good luck with your bond."
He turned back, but she was already gone. It was well. He might have hurt her, he would have. And the worst of it was that she may have been right.
Chapter 7
Callum was lying on his back on the bed with his shoes off when Nero came in.
