Anchor

by Jorrie Spencer

  “Strange?” asked Caleb. “Strange how?”

  “I’ve a question for you first. Have you ever met someone named Mala?”

  “Mala?” That evidently wasn’t anywhere near what Caleb had expected Angus to say, and he looked nonplussed. “No. I’ve never heard of that name.”

  “She’s about your height, late twenties say. I’d guess a South Asian background, dark eyes and shoulder-length hair.” Angus watched Caleb’s puzzled expression. “Doesn’t ring any bells?”

  “No.”

  Angus stopped and placed a reassuring hand on that bony shoulder. “Did your father ever send women out to find you?”

  Caleb’s expression shuttered, and it hurt to see him close up at the mention of his father. In a low voice, he said, “No.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Angus gave that shoulder a reassuring shake, and they started walking again. “She seems harmless. In fact, she seems a bit…lost. So I’d be surprised if there’s a direct link to your father. But I felt I should check with you, ask your opinion.”

  Caleb nodded, gratitude shining in his eyes. It meant a lot to him when Angus took his opinions seriously. “Only guys, only wolves searched me out. My dad doesn’t have much to do with anyone else.”

  “All right. Anyway, she wants to meet you. When I asked for her reason, she said, ‘I’d rather not say.’ Jancis might have gotten more information out of her.” Angus glanced down. “How would you feel about meeting this Mala?”

  “I don’t care.”

  Angus smiled. Sullen, sounding like a teenager, and he probably didn’t care. Caleb’s distress had ebbed since Angus had described Mala. She was no one to him at this point. “Okay, I’ll give Jancis a call when we get home.”

  They arrived shortly, and Rory, who’d made coffee and was ready for company, started an argument with Caleb about hockey. Not about which team was better, since Caleb hadn’t watched much hockey in his life, but whether or not it was a stupid sport. Caleb apparently only liked football. Angus retreated from the voices and picked up the kitchen phone. Jancis answered her cell on the second ring.

  “So?” he asked. “Get anything more out of her?”

  “No. Give me a moment.”

  He waited.

  “Okay, she can’t hear me. She won’t say why she wants to see Caleb but seems embarrassed about it.”

  “Interesting.” He’d picked up Mala’s embarrassment earlier but had thought it generalized.

  “And she’s said more than once that our Caleb is probably not someone she knows.”

  “It doesn’t add up, Jancis.”

  “Yeah. Well. I’m not sure she adds up, if you get my drift.”

  “Okay. Bring her over. See what happens.”

  “I bet it’ll be anticlimactic.”

  Angus grunted and hung up. He should be agreeing with Jancis, agreeing this was nothing. But his gut instinct said he was about to learn something big.

  And he never ignored his instinct.

  Chapter Five

  It would be five minutes max before Jancis and Mala arrived, and that was only if Mala’s walking speed was glacial. So Angus stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room and watched Caleb raise his voice and swing his arm as he explained why football, with its strategy, was much better than a game where guys skated around on ice together.

  Angus smiled, and his concern for Caleb eased. Yes, there was something to this Mala woman, but it might not have much to do with Caleb. He hoped not. He’d prefer Caleb’s life stay as simple as possible for the time being.

  The boy hadn’t wanted to start at the school, and Angus’s heart had broken for him a little as he trudged over that first morning. Fortunately, Harrison, the principal, had proved once again that he was just what the school needed, easing Caleb into the resource room for the preliminary tests and then into the classes themselves the next day.

  Caleb didn’t go as far as saying he liked school, but after a few days he no longer looked as if he were off to face the executioner each morning.

  The doorbell rang. A warning on Jancis’s part, since she lived here. The two women walked in—Jancis’s expression bland though Angus could sense an uneasiness about her, and Mala’s body tense, as if bracing herself for the worst of news.

  That put him on edge. Angus strolled over to the front door. “Get a tour of the town?” he asked Mala.

  She crossed her arms as she stood even straighter. “Yes, thank you.”

  Jancis took Mala’s coat to hang up. “She’s a bit cold, I think. I’ll put on some tea.” She glanced towards the living room. “Soon.”

  Hearing the voices, Mala edged forward, and Angus watched until she stared at him in question. It was all a bit odd, including the intense expression on her face, but they might as well get it over with.

  “Come in.” He took her elbow. Her thin arm fit in his palm nicely, and he observed that she didn’t resist his hand on her, lightly guiding.

  Seated on the couch, Caleb looked up and did a once-over of Mala. There was no recognition on his face. Good.

  But at seeing Caleb, Mala stiffened under Angus’s hand and stood straighter, if that was possible. The pulse in her neck became visible, and she raised her fist to her mouth, that same gesture she’d used at Eden’s when she’d asked if Caleb was real.

  She crumpled without warning, without a murmur. Only the increased weight on his palm enabled Angus to move in time and catch her before she hit the ground.

  “Hey,” said Rory in concern. He jumped off the couch while Caleb’s mouth dropped open.

  Angus scooped her up, one arm under her legs, the other at her back, cradling her so her head didn’t loll. Such a light weight. He wasn’t used to this type of body—soft, not terribly muscular, non-wolf. He tried not to notice her scent, mild lavender and under that, Mala herself. She smelled not only good but appealing. Appealing—it had been a long while.

  Not now. Of all the times for attraction to rear its head, in a room full of his kids and an unconscious woman. Jesus. He sure knew how to pick his moments.

  “Off the couch,” he demanded of Caleb, who leapt up. “Thank you,” Angus added more softly, not pleased that he was snapping at the boy. “I just want to be able to lay her down.”

  Rory pulled away the coffee table and Angus knelt, Mala now stirring. He didn’t want to put her down. She seemed to fit in his arms, actually curling into him a little. But they had company, and he had her reaction to Caleb to assess, so he laid her out on the couch with care.

  She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and panic hit her hard. It was too soon—

  No, wrong place, wrong situation. She wasn’t at home in her bed, she wasn’t trying to avoid a recent night terror by staying awake. But she was confused. Her eyelashes fluttered opened to meet the strong blue gaze of…Angus, alpha of Wolf Town.

  What the hell was she doing lying down beside him?

  “Okay?” He touched her forehead lightly, moving bangs away.

  She shouldn’t like his hand on her. She didn’t know him and she despised people who went touchy-feely on her.

  Instead she wanted him to touch her again. How odd.

  “Mala?” he asked.

  She looked past him to see three more people staring down at her. One was young and, oh God, it all came back—one was him.

  She didn’t know how she recognized Caleb exactly, but recognition it was, like in those dreams where you know someone you’ve never met in real life. Only this was all backwards and mixed up.

  Scrubbing her eyes was a way of temporarily blocking out the gazes of four people who all seemed concerned to some degree. Caleb maybe least of all.

  She forced herself to sit up, and Angus edged back, going from his crouch beside her to sitting on the coffee table.

  “Mala,” Angus asked, “would you prefer a glass of orange juice or apple juice?”

  She wanted neither but, locked in his gaze, felt obligated to choose one out of politeness. “A
pple.”

  “Caleb, can you get that please?”

  The boy left the room, and for a moment, Mala was able to breathe again. Oh my God. Am I making this up? Am I finally going crazy?

  She didn’t want to lose her mind.

  “Relax.” Angus’s voice was so reassuring, so mellow and deep. She stared, getting lost in that careful regard of his. “You’re safe here.” His mouth quirked up. “I promise.”

  Caleb returned and, with it, that feeling of familiarity. She knew him from her dream, the recognition stirred deep within her. He stood there, not sure who to give the glass to until Angus reached out and took it. He passed it on to Mala and said, “Drink. It will be good for your blood sugar.”

  It was too sweet, apple juice usually was, but the taste wasn’t so bad.

  When she was done, Angus retrieved the empty glass from her, and she glanced around the room again. Jancis seemed impatient, Caleb restless. There was another man present who looked a lot like Jancis, but he’d settled into a chair to read a magazine as if nothing was going on.

  “Okay?” Angus asked a second time.

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat and went to push up to standing, but stopped when Angus laid a staying hand on her arm. His palm was warm through the cotton of her long-sleeved shirt, and suddenly she couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything but soak up his heat. Something strange and foreign flushed through her and she recognized it as attraction.

  Oh God, she thought rather forlornly. Her ability to be attracted to anyone had rusted out years ago. Yet, here she was, mesmerized by the blunt, strong fingers touching her arm.

  “Whoa,” he said, bringing her focus back to the present situation. He took that hand away, and she realized he was referring to her standing, not to her reaction to his touch. “Do me the favor of sitting here for a while. We don’t want you falling down a third time while I’m right beside you. You’ll give me a complex.”

  She couldn’t respond to his charming half-smile though a part of her wanted to. Wow, what a bad time to be completely dazzled by a man. She couldn’t believe it. This never happened to her. Never. She’d given up on herself as too numb to respond to anyone, even mildly, let alone like this.

  It was baffling, especially with Caleb in the room.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Angus said.

  No. “Okay,” she answered.

  “Do you know Caleb?”

  At the question and Mala’s regard, Caleb looked self-conscious, though he clearly didn’t recognize her. And God knows what her recognition meant. While a part of her was so embarrassed, she just wanted to get out of here, another part was desperate to ask.

  But ask what? And how? Hey, Caleb, did your father brutalize you three weeks ago?

  She was not going to ask such an awful question of him. No way.

  Then she remembered her marker—the room, in her dream, when Caleb had been human, and that beautiful painting of three wolves hanging on the wall.

  Angus was watching her, and when she turned back his way, she expected his patience to have run out for this spacey woman on his couch. But nothing of the sort showed on his face.

  In fact, his expression encouraged her to blurt out, “Do you have a winter scene, wolves running together, three of them, up through the pine trees to the hill, the moon illuminating their way?”

  Something wary flickered in his eyes, caution, and she recognized that she had started down the road towards showing too much of herself.

  But what the hell. Complete strangers weren’t going to force her into therapy, or worse. They might say good riddance, but they wouldn’t get involved in her life.

  “In a bedroom,” she added.

  “That’s in my room,” Caleb confirmed, and he was the one who seemed least surprised that she would know about the painting.

  She was shaking again and she clamped her teeth together. The knowledge that it was real, that her dreaming was connected to the real world, threatened to overwhelm her. Caleb had offered her proof, even if he didn’t know it.

  “What’s going on.” It was a question, but delivered as a flat command, and the warmth had left Angus’s face, his expression suggesting she might be considered a threat to them.

  Get yourself together. Her first reaction was to clam up. Whenever she’d tried to explain what was going on inside her head before, it had been disastrous. But these were wolves, for God’s sakes, and she might have even helped Caleb.

  She pushed up to standing, and immediately Angus loomed beside her. He no longer seemed friendly, but that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but understanding something about what her dreams meant.

  “Where?” she asked Caleb, who looked to Angus for guidance.

  “What are you trying to prove?” demanded Jancis.

  Mala startled, having forgotten Jancis was in the room, given she was so focused on the wolf painting, and Caleb and Angus. But she answered the other woman. “I want to know why I saw that picture in my dream.”

  She stood as if waiting for a blow, the dark eyes even darker with something like fear but also anticipation. Angus loved that painting. Harrison had gifted it years ago, and Rory had asked for it to be hung in his bedroom back when Rory lived at home. It contained Angus, Rory and Trey as they headed out for a moonlight run.

  The old urge to hide it was swift and strong, but werewolves were out and about now, and the painting was not going to give anyone away. Angus looked at Caleb. “Do you mind if she steps inside your room?”

  From Caleb’s face the answer was yes, but he just shrugged.

  Angus tilted his head towards the hall. “Follow me.”

  “Me too?” Caleb asked.

  “You too.”

  “Dream,” Jancis said scathingly, watching as he led Mala to the room, and Mala’s shoulders seemed to bow under some kind of weight.

  Because Angus didn’t dismiss anything, he tried to remember if there were any rumors of actual people having powers through dreams. He’d have to ask Trey what his take was. There were the occasional stories of dream wraiths, but Angus had put them in the same category as bogeymen and vampires. As werewolves, one got hit with a lot of bullshit.

  For now, Angus tried to keep an open mind and gestured to the bedroom door that stood ajar. Mala took a deep breath then pushed the door open slowly, as if something inside the room might attack her. She walked in, gazing at…the bed of all things.

  Caleb had made the bed, sort of, but it was nothing to stare at.

  Angus had expected her to focus on the painting, but her back was to it, and Jancis’s words she’s not all there came back to him.

  “Caleb?” Her voice was thin, thready. Angus walked in so Caleb could follow him.

  “Yeah,” mumbled Caleb.

  She pointed downward, and as she spoke, her voice was quiet, almost stuttering over her words. “You were sitting on this bed. You’d just woken up, and you were…unsure at first, but then you insisted that you were with friends, that I put away the weapon and go. So I did.”

  Angus disliked words like crazy and half-baked, which had been thrown too often at his people, so he was careful in his use of them on others. But he felt disappointment. This woman appeared to have problems.

  “You also told me you were staying in Wolf Town. It’s why I took a bus up here.” The way she turned away from the bed and stared at the painting with a very slight smile curving her mouth, it made Angus sad. “I saw this painting before I left you.” Her gaze cut to Caleb’s. “Do you remember me? Is that possible?”

  It was then that Angus smelled Caleb’s confusion and fear. He’d been focused on Mala and hadn’t noticed it building. Angus turned to the boy, put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, but Caleb’s entire world had zeroed in on Mala.

  “You?” he whispered, brown eyes wide. Not recognition, exactly, but her words meant something to him.

  She nodded. “Yes. I believe so.”

  “Before too, that other time…” His voice went l
ow and he had trouble finding the words. “With my dad…”

  Again she nodded, solemn-faced and looking like she understood what Caleb was describing.

  He cleared his throat. “After you helped me get away from him, did you…did you kill my dad?”

  She shook her head, that lost expression creeping back on her face. “I stayed as long as possible, kept him down as long as possible. But whether I killed him…” She lifted a hand, palm up, gesturing her uncertainty. “I have no idea.”

  They gazed at each other, clearly making sense of the conversation between themselves, even if Angus didn’t. Then Mala shrugged. “You see, Caleb, I didn’t understand, until now, that it was more than a dream.”

  Chapter Six

  “All right.” Angus sat at the kitchen table, obviously trying to hang on to his temper. “Let’s go through this again.”

  “This is such crap,” said Jancis.

  While Angus might be used to holding his temper, Mala wasn’t. She rarely had to, because in day-to-day life she didn’t tend to build up enough steam. But for the first time in her life she had proof that what she did in her dreams was somehow real, and this woman called it crap.

  “Utter and complete crap.”

  Mala slammed a palm on the table and shoved up to standing. Unfortunately, she was four inches shorter than Jancis and her delivery was marred by a slight stutter as she started speaking. “Y-you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Neither do you. You’re making this up because—” Jancis threw out her hands, as if no explanation could be found for Mala’s behavior.

  “Don’t forget to add the…” Mala spun a finger in a circle near her temple. “Think I haven’t seen that one before?”

  Jancis blinked once. “I don’t care. All I know is you’re messing with Caleb.”

  Caleb was tracing the wood table with his index finger. He’d drawn in on himself, was hunched and unhappy. Mala couldn’t tell if it was because she didn’t know if she’d killed his father or because rehashing that awful night was the last thing he wanted to do.