by Laina Kenney
Don holstered his weapon as he came to stand by Ives and Maressa.
“You again?” Don’s eyes were on Ives.
Ives held out a hand and Don shook it.
Two cops dragged an unconscious Biff out from behind the bar. Maressa could see the shards of glass glinting in his hair.
“More of your work?” Don inclined his head to indicate Biff as he was strapped to a stretcher by the medics.
Ives nodded.
“Perhaps you will see fit to keep him in custody this time and save me any further trouble.” Ives voice was cool and pleasant, but his eyes were hard and steady on Don’s.
“Keep out of cop business.”
Todd came over and held out his hands in front of Don’s nose. The wrists were raw from fighting against his bonds and Don winced in time with Maressa.
“I’m saying thanks,” Todd said and shoved a hard elbow in Don’s gut.
Don grunted and rubbed the spot. The corners of his mouth turned down.
“Thanks,” Don said to Ives. “But next time, just call the cops.”
Maressa pushed to her feet. Ives steadied her with a hand on her back.
“There can’t be a next time,” Maressa said. “I can’t take any more of this.”
Don watched Ives rub her back soothingly but said nothing.
“The police will take him in and this time the system will keep him,” Todd said.
“I’m sure justice will be served,” Ives said. Unspoken in his tone was the promise to take care of the problem himself if justice failed.
“Of course,” Maressa jumped in, praying that Don had missed what Ives didn’t say. “I’m sure it will all work out.”
But Don’s sharp cop’s eyes were focused on her mate. He reached into an inside pocket and produced a card which he flipped to Ives.
“Next time, call me. Day or night. Wouldn’t want any of your good deeds to get away on you and go so wrong that I’d have to put you in a cage.”
Ives took the card. “I wouldn’t want that.”
Maressa thought if things went wrong in a fight with Ives it wouldn’t be for the man standing at her side. His cool elegant facade didn’t do enough to mask the lethal fighter underneath. At the end of the fight, he would be the one who walked away in one piece. She was pretty sure Don must know that, too, but if he wasn’t saying any more about it then neither was she.
Ives read the numbers on the card and pocketed it.
“My thanks.”
Maressa slipped her hand in his and felt her nerves settle a little more.
After one more hard look, Don got out his notebook and began to take statements. Another cop spoke to Todd.
By the time Maressa was done, Biff had already been wheeled out and the medic was still arguing with Todd about going to the hospital.
Maressa could see that Todd was in pain, but he was trying to tough it out. Men!
She frowned and marched over to where Todd was.
“He’ll go with you to the hospital,” she said and when Todd started to protest, she held up a hand. “Shut it. If you don’t go, I’m telling Aunt Belle. She was a nurse in the army, remember? And you know what she’ll do, don’t you?”
Todd opened his mouth and Maressa talked over him. “Yeah, you know what she’ll do. She’ll move in here so she can take care of you. And you won’t have a minute’s peace until she thinks you’re fit for duty again, which could be days if not weeks. And she’ll cook for you. Soups and stews, heavy on the mushy vegetables, and no steak or anything solid until she thinks you’re fit for it.” She pointed a finger. “You know I’m right.”
Todd’s linebacker shoulders sank in defeat.
“Yeah, you’re right.”
The medic was waiting with a sympathetic smile.
“Come on. Your aunt is ex-army? Sounds like my mother-in-law.” He gave an exaggerated shudder. “Think of it this way, the hospital won’t be so bad, by comparison.”
Todd followed him with surprising good grace after that and Maressa indulged in a moment of smug self-congratulation. She wouldn’t have tattled to Aunt Belle. Probably. But Todd would benefit from a thorough check-up after what he’d been through and when Aunt Belle heard about tonight’s events through the neighborhood gossip tree, Todd would have the perfect defense in place.
She turned and the sight of Ives leaning against the wall waiting for her settled welcome warmth in the pit of her stomach. She walked back to her gorgeous mate with a true smile.
Chapter 13
The Harvest Picnic was astonishing. There was no other word. Maressa, holding the catering tray with her offering of Aunt Belle’s famous Sweet-n-Sour Meatballs, could hardly stop herself from gawking in ten directions at once.
There were men and women, couples, singles, and children, some hugging, some dancing, some just talking, in small groups or large, spread out in a large cleared meadow in the forest. There were two long tables heaped with food over to one side. Colorful blankets were spread on the ground at the edges of the clearing, some with children sleeping or playing on them. It was chaos, but it was warm and real, like a huge extended family.
She tried to subdue the butterflies in her stomach, but it was impossible. This was Ives’s family, and it was so important that they like her. Suddenly, she wanted to throw up. They hadn’t known each other long, barely a month, and the relationship was already serious. She knew exactly how serious it was, and the weight of it lay in her stomach like a cannonball. She wanted his family to love her.
Ives put his hand on her back and some of the nerves settled. How did he always know?
She sniffed. He smelled happy.
She frowned up at him and he grinned. How could she know that his scent was happy? He had given her the bite he seemed to think was so important to their relationship, and she had listened to his caveats, but she didn’t really take it seriously. Was she changing somehow? Would she get a super-awesome sense of smell to go along with everything else he was giving her?
And she was pretty sure that some of the wolves walking around were real wolves, not just warriors wearing fur. Somehow her new unnamed sense was able to detect a difference.
After depositing their tray at the table loaded with meat dishes, Ives led them straight to the raised stone dais in the center of the huge clearing. Maressa balked, clutching his hand, and he stopped.
“I don’t want you to think I’m a coward,” she started, but she couldn’t go on. Her stomach was in knots and she didn’t know what she wanted to say to him.
He brought her hand to his lips and she was blown away by the power in his eyes.
“I love you, Maressa.”
The declaration swept through her in a surge so sharp her fingertips tingled.
“No ifs? No second thoughts? No conditions?” she asked weakly.
“No. No one but you, always.”
She took a breath, took a risk. Her heart was pounding in her ears and her vision narrowed until all she could see was Ives’s perfect face.
“I love you.”
His grin flashed and he framed her face with hands that weren’t quite steady.
“You humble me, Maressa. I thought the battle for your heart would be a long campaign. I was ready for that. But this?” He breathed out on a laugh. “This is a gift.”
She tried to smile, and his thumb dashed a tear from her cheek.
“You walked in whistling and stole my heart,” she said and her voice wobbled. The tenderness on his face was her undoing and the tears flowed freely.
“Come here, sweet girl.” He pulled her close and cradled her. She tucked her nose against his chest and let him hold her while she fought the wave of emotion. “Sweet girl.” His hand stroked her hair over and over with a hand that shook. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll make it work. Don’t cry now.”
Paradoxically, the tremor in his hands steadied her.
“I’ve cried more with you than I have in a year. Not that I’m saying that’s bad, but
you wake up something in me that was asleep for a long time.”
His hand stilled.
“You have done the same for me. I am awake in spirit, as you say, in the best way possible because of you. I love you for that as well.”
She pulled back and looked at him, really looked.
“You love me.” She sniffled a little.
“Yes.”
“And I love you.”
He touched his lips to hers.
“It is a small word for such a big feeling, is it not?”
“Okay. I’m okay if you love me.”
He smiled and wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. She fumbled for a Kleenex.
“We’re good, then?” His voice wasn’t any steadier than hers.
“Yeah, I think we’re good.”
Heart bursting with happiness, she took his hand and this time she led him. They ended up across the clearing where a small crowd had gathered for an announcement.
When the cheering settled down, a slender dark-haired girl of about ten got up on a low smooth stump the width of Maressa’s car. Her ponytail bouncing, she played a charming upbeat solo on a polished silver flute. She accepted the enthusiastic applause with a sweep of her skirt and a gracious formal bow before skipping over to climb into the arms of a stone-faced warrior who cuddled her close.
Then a little blond boy no older than six climbed up on the stump and invited anyone who was interested in having fun to join him and two friends in the Iron Thumb Video Game Competition after the luncheon. One of the friends was a quiet dark-haired boy of a similar age and the other a tall blond warrior who elicited cheers from the whole group when he hoisted the boy onto his shoulders for a quick jog around the meadow.
The crowd began to disperse and Ives inclined his head toward his Alpha. Maressa took his hand again and breathed deeply for courage.
On roughly carved wooden thrones in the centre of the smooth black stone sat the Alpha, Rylek, whom Maressa had met once before, and his Queen. Ives had said that the Queen was fully human not long ago, but Maressa’s newly sensitive nose pegged her as vulfen and something more, with a soft sweetness she couldn’t define. It made her smile. She liked the Queen on sight, and as soon as the Queen took her hand, she knew they would be friends.
“You must call me Ellie,” the Queen said after the formal introductions.
Maressa smiled automatically. She thought of the Queen as Ellie already, but it might take a bit of getting used to.
“I’ll try.”
“Did I see you with a catering tray earlier?” At Maressa’s nod, Ellie smiled.
“What did you bring?”
Ives stepped forward.
“Maressa made Aunt Belle’s famous Sweet and Sour meatballs, which will melt in your mouth, my Queen—”
Maressa elbowed him. “He would know. He got his hand slapped for eating them straight out of the pot.”
“—and Cherry Vanilla Cheesecake.”
Maressa was shocked to see Ellie’s tiny white fangs drop and took a quick look around. Was there a threat? Her warning system was quiet, but really, anyone wishing harm to this gathering of warriors had better bring a cannon and a couple of tanks. She had seen what Ives could do and there were probably forty more males at the picnic who moved just like him.
“Excuse me,” Ellie said and hurried away toward the buffet.
Ives and Rylek exchanged a complicated look and Rylek shrugged.
“My Queen is carrying.”
Maressa had started nodding before the realization struck. He meant that Ellie was pregnant, carrying a child. It made sense.
“Oh, she’s having cravings?”
He leaned forward. “Just last night someone mentioned pizza and Ellie disappeared from my side. Twenty minutes later a young man knocked on my door with a large Hawaiian pizza. When I commented on the wonderful smell, Ellie bared her teeth at me. I got one slice and considered myself fortunate.”
Rylek managed to look both sheepish and proud at the same time and Maressa had to stifle a laugh at the expression. When his gaze tracked and rested on his wife filling a plate at the wide outdoor buffet, the love was naked on his face and she had to look away. It was too intimate to observe.
Reaching out, her hand found Ives’s hand. Fingers laced together and clung.
“Someday,” Ives whispered in her ear and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks.
But her heart whispered yes. She had a feeling her answer would always be yes for him.
His fingers tightened on hers. He brought her hand to his lips and she knew he had read her response very well.
“Soon?” he asked and she ducked her head and curled into his embrace. His tone, heated and hopeful, made her feel shy about her sudden arousal.
“Someday soon,” she agreed and tilted her head up for his kiss.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Laina Kenney is a classically trained singer/instructor with a regular job and a deep love of the written word. Her family is supportive of (or perhaps just resigned to) a house full of books in every genre, with ancient history and romance taking up the majority of the space. She cheerfully admits to having a bizarre sense of humor and enough shiny accessories for any ten women. One of the greatest joys in her life is exploring the wonder of testosterone, both in prose and in person.
For all titles by Laina Kenney, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/laina-kenney
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
