by Молли Харпер
But Maggie was already crouched, springing toward an attack. My human eyes couldn’t track her movements as she shifted into a wolf and lunged. A dark shape blurred past me, barreling into Cooper. As a wolf, Maggie was smaller than Cooper but no less intimidating. She was compact, but you could see the strength in her limbs, the barely controlled power as she leaped at him.
Cooper barely had enough time to phase before hitting the ground with Maggie’s teeth clamped around his neck. He shook off the tatters of his clothes as he struggled to throw his little sister off his back. Samson started to jump into the fray as family members scattered out of the way, leaving toppled chairs and spilled coffee in their wake.
“No, the fewer involved, the better,” Noah said wearily. “Try to corral them outside if you could. Dr. Moder shouldn’t have to clean up after them.”
Samson and Eli shooed—for lack of a better word—the grappling wolves out the clinic door, and the rest of the pack poured out into the parking lot after them. Cooper was definitely on the defensive, feinting when Maggie snapped at him and rolling when she pounced. But he didn’t fight back. There were plenty of opportunities for him to take advantage of his size, his strength. He could have pinned her a dozen times. Instead, he just tried to keep her from doing any permanent damage, like a resigned parent handling a toddler’s temper tantrum.
I searched the crowd for some sign of reason, someone who would step in and stop this. But most of Cooper’s relatives seemed proud, happy, as if a sibling death match was some sort of cherished holiday tradition. Half were cheering for Cooper, the other half for Maggie. And if I wasn’t mistaken, a couple of them were placing bets.
“This is ridiculous. Aren’t you going to do something?” I asked Eli. “I thought you were in charge. Tell Maggie to stop.”
“I’m not actually the alpha, so I don’t have any real authority over her. Cooper’s still the alpha until he dies. I’m just the de facto leader. If I told Maggie to stop, she’d just snap off a chunk of my hide and then go after Cooper again. Besides, this is how we work things out. It might do them some good.”
I grunted in frustration and looked up to Cooper’s giant cousin. “Samson?”
Samson cast a longing glance at the fight but shook his head. “I told you, Cooper doesn’t want help. Besides, I’ve got scars you wouldn’t believe from jumping between the two of them.”
“Oh, for goodness sake,” I huffed, stalking into the clinic. I saw that while Cooper and Maggie fought it out in the parking lot, Dr. Moder was loading Noah into Eli’s shiny red SUV, covering him with blankets. I glanced around the waiting room for the most viable solution. Since they didn’t have industrial-grade sedatives in the waiting room, I grabbed the fire extinguisher off the wall, pulled the pin, and made my way outside through the crowd.
Getting as close to the wolves as I dared, I squeezed the trigger and shot a dusty white cloud over both of them. The two wolves yelped, separating. Maggie recovered faster than Cooper, who was slumped on the ground and seemed to be bleeding from his neck and one paw. She lunged for him again, but I let out another puff of white dust. When that didn’t deter her, I beaned her with the heavy red canister. The pack let out a collective gasp. Maggie whined and wobbled to the ground.
Even as I did this, I wondered what the great burning hell I was thinking. This was not normal behavior for me. Years with my parents had schooled me in the art of passive resistance—letting them rant and rave about my poor personal choices and then doing whatever I wanted to anyway. I did not shout or make threats. I sure as hell didn’t put myself between angry supernatural creatures. What was Cooper doing to me?
“What the hell was that?” Maggie growled, phasing and rolling to her human feet. She pushed her lean, naked form into a crouch, growling at me. She pressed her fingers to the purpling lump growing on her forehead. “Who do you think you are, interfering in pack business?”
“Back off,” I warned her. “You’ve made your point. Now, back off. You’re not the reason he came here tonight. Your grandfather’s going to the hospital, and Cooper’s going with him. He can’t do that if he’s handling your little hissy fit.”
Maggie sneered and advanced on me. Being shot with freezing-cold fire-suppressing chemicals again probably wouldn’t improve her mood, but at this point, I’d sort of cornered myself, and the fire extinguisher was my only weapon. I supposed I could always hit her with it again.
“Maggie,” Eli grunted, his tone far more authoritative than I would have thought possible. “Don’t.”
“Nobody wants either one of you here,” Maggie snarled, ignoring Eli. “You think you’re special because Cooper brought you home to meet the family? What a joke. He doesn’t care about his family. And he doesn’t care about you. When he’s done with you, he’ll run. That’s what Cooper does.”
At the moment, Cooper was on the ground and seemed to be struggling to phase back into a human. Maybe he was more seriously injured than I thought. I tried to keep my voice cool, detached, as I backed toward him, fire extinguisher at the ready. “Look, I’m not going to get into some sort of feminized pissing contest with you. I don’t do that. I don’t like being rude or making a scene. Not because I’m not good at it. I learned from my mother, who’s made a lifelong hobby of making public officials cry. You’re a rank amateur, even if you can turn into an apex predator. Now, step off, you hateful little bitch, or—” I don’t remember much after that, because Maggie punched me so hard that I felt my jaw somewhere in the back of my neck. Behind me, I heard a bellowing roar and barely registered the sound of claws skittering over the frozen ground. The fire extinguisher slipped out of my hand, falling to the concrete with a loud clang. I swayed on my feet but stayed upright, managing to swipe an upper cross into Maggie’s chin. She let out a snarl and hit me again, right in the eye.
I took some comfort in the fact that it was my head smacking back on the pavement that knocked me out and not the actual punch . . . no, it was pretty lame either way.
CHAPTER 15
A Brand-new Sense of Familiarity . . . with a Stick Shift
I WOKE UP ON A strange couch with a steak on my eye.
“Is meat the answer to everything with you people?” I grumbled, sitting up.
“Slow,” a low, musical voice told me. Someone was keeping a restraining hand on my shoulders. “You’ve been out for a while. We’re still not sure whether you have a concussion.”
I blinked a few times before opening my good eye. Samson, who I was thankful to see was clothed, was sitting in a nearby easy chair. The room was meticulously clean, decorated with scattered photos of Cooper, Maggie, and Samson in various stages of childhood. The walls were a warm, creamy color. A bright blue throw rug was settled comfortably in front of a large brick fireplace. On the mantel were three carved wooden wolves, just like the one Cooper had given me for Christmas.
“We’re glad to see you back in the land of the living,” the musical voice said with a chuckle as the steak was pulled away from my face. I’d heard the words “pleasantly plump” used to describe women before, but they never seemed so apt as when they were applied to Gracie Graham. She was soft and round and had a warm smile permanently etched across her face. Heck, I wanted to crawl into her lap and ask for a story.
“I’ve never seen a human girl take a punch like that,” Samson marveled. “You know, if things don’t work out with Cooper, I’m going to marry you myself.”
“It’s tempting, Samson. But I’ve seen you naked. I’m afraid you’d break me in half.”
Samson gave a loud snort. I realized I’d said something incredibly vulgar in front of Cooper’s mother and felt blood rush to my cheeks. Gracie managed to ignore the exchange completely. I was mortified. But honestly, hello, head injury? I couldn’t be trusted to stay tactful even without being concussed. Then again, I’d also called Gracie’s daughter a hateful little bitch right in front of her—before the head injury. But given the way she was taking care of me, it seemed Gr
acie wasn’t holding a grudge.
“Where is everybody?” I asked.
“After you used your face to break Maggie’s hand—” Gracie shot a stern look toward Samson. He prattled on, oblivious. “Cooper, Eli, and the doc took Pops to the hospital. Cooper wanted to stay with you, but I told him I’d keep an eye on you. Eli and Dr. Moder were sort of afraid they’d get Pops to the hospital and he’d change his mind unless Cooper was there to nudge him inside.”
“Where’s Maggie?” I asked.
“Well, I picked you up off the ground and carried you into the house. Cooper phased and tackled Maggie. There was a good bloody brawl that we will be talking about for years. Gracie jumped between them and made them both phase back to human. Maggie started yelling that it was Cooper’s fault for bringing some human here in the first place, and what the hell did he think he was doing showing up after all this time . . .” Samson seemed to realize that he needed to edit himself. “The end result was that Eli told Maggie she needed to go on a long run to think about her actions. It’s like banishing her from the village for three days.”
“So the angry face-bruising werewolf is going to blame me for her getting grounded?” I moaned. “Fantastic.”
“I am very sorry for my daughter’s actions,” Gracie said, her lip trembling a little as she dabbed the area around my eye with a thick, yellow, strong-smelling salve. “She hasn’t been the same since Cooper left. She’s a very angry young woman. I have tried talking to her about controlling herself, but nothing helps. Eli can usually talk some sense into her. But seeing Cooper face-to-face after such a long time . . .”
“It’s not a big deal. I probably shouldn’t have interfered like that. I’ve definitely learned my lesson,” I said, wincing as she probed the tender spot just under my lashes. “I just couldn’t watch her go after Cooper like that.”
Gracie offered me a warm, gratified smile.
“Attacking Cooper’s mate is a big deal,” Samson assured me, suddenly looking fierce. “Maggie should be ashamed of what she did. It was an insult to everyone there. No matter what you said to her, or hit her with, she shouldn’t have gone after you like that. You’re a human. You didn’t stand a chance.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, not bothering to correct his “mate” assumption. “How’s Cooper?”
“Pissed, which is a good sign, I think. He’ll take that crap from Maggie, but the minute she laid a hand on you, all bets were off. He’s never drawn blood from her before, never pushed back like that, even when we were pups. It knocked her on her ass, in every sense of the word, which is good for her.” I nodded, staring down at my hands, which were covered with fire-extinguisher residue. “So, you’re handling the whole wolf deal pretty well,” he observed. “Most human women would have run for the hills by now.”
“I like Cooper, a lot,” I said, casting a cautious glance at his mother. “And I didn’t exactly have the most ‘orthodox’ upbringing, so I’m used to the slightly unusual.”
“Still,” Samson said, that touch of awe returning to his voice.
“You are either very brave or very odd to agree to come here,” Gracie said, lifting my chin. She seemed to be inspecting the damage but at the same time pinning me with her wide green eyes.
“It’s probably a mix of both,” I admitted.
“How do you feel?” she asked.
“Hungry,” I said. I checked the clock. It was almost five in the morning. Thank goodness it was Sunday, my day off, so I wouldn’t have to call in “concussion” and explain my ass-kicking at Maggie’s hands to Evie.
“I’ll make you some breakfast,” Gracie said, rising from the couch.
“No, actually, do you mind if I cook?” I asked, pushing myself to my feet. “It would probably settle my nerves a little bit. And you’re exhausted. Have you had any sleep?”
“No,” Gracie admitted.
“You sit, I’ll cook,” I told her. “The best way to tell if I have a concussion is seeing whether I remember all of the ingredients for a western omelet.”
Gracie protested, “I couldn’t let you—”
“Not so fast, Mom,” Samson said. “Cooper’s told me all about her cooking. Maybe we should let her get back on her feet.”
“Forgive Samson, he was raised by wolves,” she muttered.
I quirked an eyebrow. “Is this some sort of test? If I laugh at that joke, will I be tossed out?”
Samson barked out a laugh as he pulled me into the kitchen. “Didn’t I tell you, Mom?”
IF MY COOKING was any indicator of cranial well-being, I was concussion-free. The smell of sautéed onions and peppers, dosed with a little garlic, raised my spirits considerably. Gracie had a clean, orderly kitchen. Everything was just where you’d expect it to be. She made coffee, and she and Samson sat at the kitchen table, watching me cook.
There were more pictures in the kitchen. Cooper, Maggie, and Samson in happier times, sledding, fishing, making hideous faces at the camera. Maggie and Cooper were obviously close as kids. In almost every picture, she was right by his side, his arm slung around her shoulders.
“You’d never seen a sister who loved her brother as much as Maggie,” Gracie said, handing me a cup of coffee and nodding at the picture I’d been staring at. “Or a big brother who tolerated his baby sister hanging around as well as Cooper.”
“I’m sorry, I just don’t get it,” I said, stirring eggs into a pan. “If they were so close, why can’t she just forgive him? Or at least stop trying to rip his face off every time she sees him? Why is she so angry with him? Cooper told me he had to leave, but he’s never explained what that meant. I thought maybe it was that he didn’t feel welcomed by his family anymore, but I see that’s not true. What happened to make him feel like he couldn’t stay?”
Samson lifted an eyebrow. “He hasn’t told you?”
We heard a truck’s engine humming outside the house. I looked out the little kitchen window and saw Eli’s SUV pull to a stop in the driveway.
“Cooper should be the one to tell you,” Gracie said quietly.
As the front door opened, Samson said loudly, “And then I convinced Cooper to hold the umbrella and jump off the highest limb he could reach. I didn’t tell him to jump feet-first, though I thought that part was pretty obvious.”
I stared at Samson, bewildered. But Gracie managed to catch on and pick up the conversational thread easily. She sighed. “Samson and Cooper were never allowed to watch Mary Poppins again.”
“Which was OK, because we saw Superman, and I convinced Cooper to climb up on the roof with a red towel wrapped around his shoulders . . .”
“How many of your stories end this way?” I asked, finally catching on, as Cooper walked into the kitchen.
“They’re telling you humiliating stories from my childhood?” Cooper asked wearily as he crossed to the stove and inspected my bruised eye. Samson hopped to his feet and poured coffee for Cooper and for Eli, who trudged into the kitchen looking surprisingly chipper.
“Only good things,” Gracie promised.
I made a sour face. “Well, I wouldn’t consider prolonged bed wetting a good thing . . .”
Cooper’s mouth popped open in astonishment, and Gracie gave a long, hooting laugh. I cracked more eggs and stretched the filling for two more omelets as Eli and Cooper gave his mother an update on Noah. The tests showed no evidence of heart attack or stroke, but they were keeping him for observation just in case. Cooper looked down-to-the-bone weary, sagging in his chair against the kitchen table. I slid plates in front of them. Samson moaned in ecstasy as he forked his first bite into his mouth.
I turned back to the stove and heard Samson stage-whisper, “How open is your relationship, exactly?” I smiled to myself when a meaty punching sound was followed by Samson’s colorful string of profanities. “I was just asking!”
“Children,” Gracie warned, but she sounded pleased.
I leaned against the counter with my plate. Gracie tried to get me to sit, but I wa
s happy to hang back, to watch Cooper with his family. But the longer he sat there, the more tense he became. He kept an eye on the front door at all times, occasionally looking up to me to make sure I was, I don’t know, safe? Still there? Eli picked up on his agitation and placed a hand on Cooper’s shoulder.
“We’ve got to go,” Cooper said, rising, shrugging off Eli. “I’m exhausted. Mo’s hurt. I’ll call you this afternoon for an update on Pops.”
The hard edge to Cooper’s voice made my stomach twist. How had the warm, homey feel of the kitchen disappeared so quickly? I finished my eggs and turned to the sink to start the dishes. It gave me something to do with my hands besides wring them and generally behave like a ninny.
“Why don’t you stay for the afternoon?” Gracie suggested, managing to keep the note of pleading from her voice. “Take a nap, get a shower, before you get back on the road.”
He shook his head and gently nudged his forehead against his mother’s cheek. “Time to go.”
I cleared my throat. Cooper shot me a long, uncomfortable glance. I tilted my head toward Eli and mouthed, “Grundy.”
Cooper grimaced and turned back to Eli. “You’ve got to keep the pack from running anywhere near Grundy for a while. There have been attacks, incidents in town. People are being hurt. Hell, two kids are missing, and there were wolf prints all over their campsite. People in town are getting more and more riled up. They’re talking about organized hunts. If they see a wolf anywhere in the vicinity, you could have a dead pack member on your hands.”
Eli nodded slowly, for some reason keeping his gaze steady on me. “We’re aware of the situation. I’ve seen a few things on the news. I’ve told the pack to cut Grundy a wide berth.”
“We usually do anyway,” Samson added. “We know you don’t like to be crowded.”
“But you sent Samson to us last night,” I said. “He could have been spotted. He could have been hurt. There are traps everywhere in the woods.”
Eli looked supremely annoyed with me for speaking. He gave Cooper a sharp look. “Is this a conversation we should be having now?”
