by Mandy Rosko
"Bud's the only one who never really cared that I could read people's thoughts. Kid thought it was cool. Probably ‘cause the only thoughts running through his head were how much he hated school and wished he could play his video games all day. Eventually he started noticing his teacher’s—"
Mike cut himself off, looked away and scratched his glowing cheek.
Anne sputtered a laugh, imagining how big boobs could hold the attention of a prepubescent kid like that. "Sounds like a ten year old to me."
Mike made a sound of agreement. "I didn't have control back then like I do now. Whenever I slipped into someone's head I had no choice but to hear them until I left the room. No one likes having their dirty secrets laid out like that."
Not even his parents. A thought occurred that made her skin tingle. "Have you ever gone into my head?"
He grinned. "I tried, in the beginning when I thought you were all crazy. But it's hard to get into a were’s head. When I gave you those instructions like when Gordon had his little test, it wasn't because that's how it works, but because your thoughts are different and I needed extra help."
Anne sighed. Confused between being disappointed that he didn’t know of her attraction to him, yet grateful that it was still a secret.
"Don't worry. Your thoughts are safe from me."
"That isn't what I meant. I just—" She stopped herself when she realized that, yes, it was exactly what she meant. "I'm sorry."
What was with her and constantly blurting things out like this?
"Don't be. I wouldn't want someone in my head either."
"But, if there was someone in my family who could, I wouldn't shun them." She insisted. Wishing to tell him that she still accepted and trusted him.
Like the little coward she was, Anne kept her mouth shut.
Mike smiled at her. Anne just about jumped when he grabbed her hand and held it as they turned a corner.
Her face heated, a tiny smile flickering on her lips. She didn’t attempt to pull her hand away. "I didn't know you were the type to hold hands."
"I am when there are people watching."
She looked up, shocked to find herself on the street where they were married.
Disappointment weighed down on her. The feeling of his heavy palm in her hand not quite so thrilling any longer.
Gordon was still there, leaning against the door of his truck with a whole lot of where-the-fuck-have-you-been on his face. Brock sat in the back, five feet away, for the protection of his pack master, total calm on his face.
Though it hurt that he didn’t really want to hold her hand, she had to speak. "Listen, before we head back, I'm sorry I invited myself along. All that sounded pretty private."
He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Anne's heart jumped. "Don't be. I came here to see them to begin with and I'm glad I got to see Bud and introduce him to my new wife.”
Anne squeezed his hand this time.
***
Bud burst out the door of his house like a bat out of Hell. A bat that was on fire, with a bazooka aimed at its back.
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t let his brother leave like this. Bud wasn’t an idiot, even though his sister liked to say he was. He knew Mike was just going to disappear again; never write, never call.
Bud wouldn’t have it. Couldn’t have it because he couldn’t stay in that house any longer.
He recognized the woman now. Took some thinking but he knew that blonde chick; he’d seen her eating in the same diner that he sometimes went to. She was all friendly with the staff, like she was a regular or something. That should be enough for Bud to track them down.
He needed to tell his brother that he wasn’t as alone as he thought.
ELEVEN
Bill held the glowing stone and stared as though it were a priceless work of art. Which it was. It was the artifact he’d searched for his entire life, created by the hands of a Goddess.
His hands cradled the stone with the care one provided to an infant. The perfect, circular shape looked as though it would be as heavy as dumbbell, but was lighter than a breeze, yet hard enough to knock a man unconscious when struck with it.
Bill grinned. Just like the creator it was smooth, beautiful, and light, yet containing strength only a Goddess would know.
The illuminated rock appeared out of place in his aged hands.
"How long has it been doing that?"
Bill looked up. Gordon stepped into the room, a mug of steaming coffee in his hands, eyes fixated on the orb.
"Not long. I think it's calling her." God, how he hoped so.
"Not even a little curious about the wedding?"
Bill shrugged. "My granddaughter wouldn't make a mistake with her life. Besides, I'm sure she would rather I made an appearance at her real wedding."
"That was a real wedding. There were papers to sign and everything."
Bill waved a finger. "Antoinette would disagree with you. Her idea of a wedding is the dress, flowers, cake, and party." He smirked. "Told me about it all the time growing up."
“Then she can renew her vows at her own expense.” He took a seat on the couch opposite of where Bill sat. He held his drink in both hands, no longer staring at the globe that openly glowed in Bill's hands.
Bill shook his head. "You should be glad about this."
Gordon looked up at him, a question mark in his eyes.
Bill held up the glowing stone and wagged it. "I'm an expert on this legend and, trust me, if your guest bonded with my granddaughter then there's no way he's the reincarnation of the first werewolf. Not if Luna really is waiting for him."
Bill stared Gordon hard in the eyes. "You don't have to worry about him taking control of your pack."
"He's already done that. Besides, that's not entirely what worries me," Gordon grumbled.
"Westley?"
Gordon grunted and nodded.
Bill stood up. "You need to stop this. Even if he didn't fall for a dragon, the boy doesn't want to be pack master. You can't force leadership one someone, it’s how mistakes get made."
"He has potential. I didn’t want to be pack leader when I was a kid either, but when my pa died, I took over and I’m doing right dandy by everyone."
Bill shook his head. The orb in his hands died down until the glow was contained in the crescent moon carved in the rock. He put it in the giant pocket of his bathrobe. "I'll go see how Antoinette is. Hopefully not crying her eyes out now that her wedding is done and over with."
He left the living room and exited the cabin without looking back at Gordon, still absorbed with staring into his mug. If the man ever had to make a right decision then he needed to do it on his own. Heaven forbid he thinks someone might want to help him.
***
Anne flopped on the bed, a tired sigh escaping her lips. All thoughts of sleep left her when Mike dropped down next to her. His weight against the bed springs launched Anne into the air before she bounced back down.
She glared at him. He didn't look at her to appreciate it, or even open his eyes. His lips did quirk though.
"I guess we're sharing a bed now."
Her laugh and answer was instant. "You wish. You're still stuck with the couch, there, buddy."
She wasn’t about to share a bed with him if he had no interest in her. Even though she wanted him, wanted him to the point where if he didn’t take the couch she’d throw herself at him.
God. Just thinking about it …
He opened an eye and didn't return her smile, which promptly melted the look from her face.
Shit! She hadn’t meant to grin like an idiot at the thought of—
Stop it! You’re doing it again! She yelled at herself.
"You're awfully chipper considering the mess we're in. I mean, look around." He waved his hand around the spacious room they were in, in the newer and bigger cottage. As if she hadn’t noticed it yet.
Another pack member and his family generously offered to vacate so that she and her legendary husband could have a little more
luxury at their disposal.
Outside she smelled barbeque, beer, and could hear laughter as picnic tables were set up. A small feast to celebrate Mike’s marriage into the pack.
"We got married today. Doesn't that bother you?"
She sat up, tucking her knees under herself. The question didn’t make her regret anything that had to do with him, but it did make her sad that her wedding came and went without any build up. "I always wanted the fairytale wedding, but there are worse things."
Which was true. She could be married to Westley.
If she had to get married then at least it was to Mike. His gorgeous body set her on fire, he preferred females and, if she read the situation right, he, maybe, could be, possibly, have an interest in her.
Fuck it. They could share the bed.
He sat up and eyed her carefully. "I was wondering about this but wasn't sure. You don't care that we're getting married because it's possible to get a divorce."
Anne ignored the lump building in her throat. It hurt that he had to point out that possibility so soon. "Uh, right. Divorce is possible. It’s not like it was ever outlawed, but …"
“Just not common?”
She nodded.
He sighed again and lay down, cradling his head in his hands. "Because we're not actually bonded. Good, that's good."
Anne's heart swelled in a bad way. She rested her palm over the ache but the hurt remained.
"What about you?"
She jumped at the feel of his hand on her knee. She looked at him. His eyes were narrowed in apparent concern.
"What do you mean?"
He sat up with her. Anne's face heated when his hand stayed with her knee. Their bodies were close now, close enough that Anne could make out the little whiskers growing on Mike's chin and jaw, close enough for her to count all the little grooves and lines in his lips.
"You just said you wanted a fairytale wedding. You didn't get that out of me today and you have to be worried about what will happen when your pack finds out that we're not actually bonded."
She hadn't thought of that. Dread filled her and emptied sickeningly like how she felt before she was about to vomit.
Mike rushed off the bed, grabbed her hands in his and stared her in the eye. "Calm down. Look at me, look at me! Breathe nice and slow. Everything's going to be fine."
Anne felt like she was falling but somehow did what he said. Deep in and out, in and out. She landed on a cottony soft cloud. She snapped to her senses when she felt her head being lifted and a pillow being propped under there. Right. She was still on the bed.
Mike's face hovered above hers, concern crinkling his brow. "You back with me?"
His body was half on top of hers, his big hand on her shoulder, holding her down as though he was afraid she would have a seizure or something.
He was so close their noses nearly touched. She could barely think. Whether it was because of the way their bodies pressed together as they were horizontal or because of her little panic attack, she didn’t know.
His hand felt surprisingly cool against her forehead, then her cheek. "Do you have a history of panic attacks?"
She shook her head, adoring the feel of his palm against her skin. "No."
He removed both of his hands. Anne fought to keep from moaning at the loss as he scrutinized her. "You really take your family life seriously."
She nodded.
"That's why you couldn't just pack your bags and go when Gordon ordered you to get married? It has nothing to do with any wolf loyalty you have to him, it's because you don't want to leave your family?"
"Most people would consider that to be a wolf loyalty."
"Hmm," he said. "Where's your real family?"
Anne tensed. She wanted to move away but their positions left her trapped. Though he didn’t touch her, his body above hers and his hands on either side of her head, made sure that she couldn't move without arousing his strange suspicions further.
It didn't seem to matter if she kept still since his close proximity apparently left him aware of every twitch she made, including when her body tightened up.
She forgot he was a detective, that he was trained to notice the little things. Even then, her life was none of his business. "The pack is my real family."
He lifted a brow at her. "Don't play dumb, I mean your blood relatives. Your brothers, sisters, parents. All I've seen is that you have a grandfather who, so far, doesn't seem to mind if you get married to man you don't love and who didn't bother showing up to your wedding."
"I didn't show up because I know it's not real."
Mike leaped off of her just as Anne launched herself forward, which was good, otherwise their heads would have smashed together.
Bill stood in the doorway, arms folded and a smile of interest on his lips. "I hope you have a good excuse for being in that position with my granddaughter."
"We're married," Mike's voice ground out from his throat defensively, his fists clenched in the bed sheets.
Bill tsked. "But not bonded. The two of you might like to play Gordon for a fool while the rest of the pack is eating out of your hands, but I know better."
Mike looked from him to Anne, and back again. Anne wished she could see what swirled around in his head that made his posture so stiff. "Are you even her real grandfather?"
Anne shrieked. "What?"
"No." Bill answered.
"Grandpa!"
"It's alright, Annie." Bill stepped into the room. Anne felt anything other than alright, though Bill seemed the picture of calm and control.
"The man is an officer of the law, if he wants to ask questions to make himself feel safer, then we should answer."
"The questions he asked are none of his business."
"The things you heard and what I told you involving my family were none of your business either," Mike snapped.
Anne's face heated. She'd forgotten about that. "What does it matter?"
Mike's eyes hardened. "Did he change you?"
She couldn't answer that. If she told a Griffon City cop the truth about that she would never see Bill again. "What does it matter?"
"Yes, I changed her," Bill answered for her.
Anne threw her hands into the air and screamed. "Stop doing that!"
"Are you aware that it is a crime to change a normal human and bring them into the paranormal world—?”
"Resulting in anything from a stiff fine to prison time. Yes, I know."
"It was an accident, Mike, he didn't mean it," Anne defended. She wanted she rush up and throw her arms around Bill's neck, as if that could somehow protect him from Mike's strange, attacking questions.
Mike leaned back against the mahogany headboard. Folding his arms, he narrowed his eyes as if in deep thought. "Alright, explain."
"My house caught on fire when I was five. Bill pulled me out but he did it in his wolf form. He dragged me out with his teeth and he accidentally bit down on my skin."
She hadn't spoken these words to anyone other than Bill. Everyone in the pack knew the story of how she came to be among them, but whenever the subject came up she always avoided it. It felt strange to have kept quiet for so long only to blurt it all out now.
Mike's eyes widened. "Your house caught fire?" His eyes immediately went to Bill.
"I didn't set it." Had he been in his wolf form, Anne was sure his hair would have stood on end. “But, since I was the one who turned her, I assumed responsibility for her.”
"You were just in the right place at the right time, that it?"
"It was our moon night. Westley had just had his first change, younger than normal, but he was still healthy. So I was running with him and his father." Bill's voice remained defensive.
"Any other survivors?"
Anne answered this time. "No. Even if there were, it wouldn't matter. Bill would have had to take me anyway. Humans are ill equipped to deal with werewolf children on their own."
She relished throwing that in Mike's face. For parents,
having a child bitten by a were was a rude wake up call to the things they were sharing their world with.
Very rarely did the bitten child end up staying with the parents. The risk was too great. By law, paranormal law, if the parents couldn’t handle the transformation, the child was placed in a nearby pack to learn control.
Some parents would visit. Others liked to pretend they never had that child to begin with, preferring to go back to their lives were vampires and werewolves didn't exist outside of the movies.
Anne couldn’t hold back the explosion, her inner wolf was itching to get out, to start a fight, and it was circling and growling inside of her head. "Why are you interrogating him?" She shifted off the bed and went to stand beside her grandpa, suddenly not wanting to be anywhere near Mike.
She hated the hurt her retreat put on his face.
"Because he's hiding something," Mike replied.
Rage burned inside her. “Fine. You’re right. It’s only fair and if it’ll shut you up then here you go. My mom was a drug addict. Major, hardcore addict who sometimes forgot she even had a daughter for days at a time. When she did remember, I was a burden who cut into her coke money because I needed things like, you know, food to survive.”
Mike’s eyes widened. He stood up, horrified. “Annie, I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
“No. You want to know. I’ll tell you, Officer.”
He winced. She ignored it. “She got herself wasted one night, decided she was hungry and turned on the stove, forgot about it and went to bed. I woke up in the woods with a giant wolf looming over me and my house on fire.”
Mike didn’t try to cut in again. His eyes stayed sad though. It made Anne want to start crying. “I’m glad she’s dead. I don’t want her back. If she hadn’t burned the house, Bill wouldn’t have saved me, and I wouldn’t be where I am now. She would’ve sold me and I’d either be dead or just like her.”
With a deep breath, Mike closed his eyes, then brought a hand up to rub his forehead. "Thank you for telling me that. It helps me to understand things better.”
His eyes opened, flashing her with diamond strength that froze her where she stood. “Something’s still not right. You can’t tell me that everyone respects Gordon so much, yet they're willing to get into a group and confront him all for the sake of a story that has no factual value?"
