Deceiving the Protector

by Dee Tenorio

  Remember…

  Lia’s legs began to quake at just the sight of the man on the screen. His black hair, touched with streaks of silver on the side. Not white, she thought, knowing that meant something. Not white. Silver. Debonair. Polished. A perfect politician.

  His smile. She knew that smile.

  Remember…

  It didn’t reach his eyes. Dark eyes, black as night, glinted in the lights. No one else seemed to see his lack of emotion. The calculation. The cold-blooded maliciousness as he enjoyed their stupidity.

  Humanity. That was what he’d said to trigger her memory. Humanity.

  The blurring veil of memory tore through.

  “I know that man.”

  “So does most of the country. I told you, he’s running for president.”

  “No, I remember him. From when Asher first found me.”

  Tate’s entire body stiffened against her. “What do you mean? He was there?”

  She shook her head, all her will needed to keep from unsheathing her claws and rushing the stage. “When I came to. He’s the one who ordered the torture. He seemed to control the scientists, probably the entire Task Force. He said I wouldn’t remember, but the Instinct kept telling me to memorize him.”

  She’d just started to move, her anger rising to volcanic heat, but Tate’s hold on her hips kept her in place. “No, Lia.”

  “But he—” She turned back to face him, her hands prying at his grip. “Think of all the people he’s hurt. The families he’s destroyed. That he will destroy.”

  Behind the sunglass lenses, she could see his eyes shifting from Wolf to back again, but his gaze never left her face. His voice dropped to a snarled tone. “Wait for the pack. If we rush him now, we’ll never get to him. We’ll just get ourselves killed. Or worse. He could recognize you.”

  Then he’ll know exactly why I’m cutting his throat.

  Tate’s hold tightened more, his faint growl drawing her back from the killing edge. “No, damn it. We’re not risking everything for a suicide mission, no matter how bad either one of us wants to rip out his spleen. I promise you, the bastard will pay, if it’s the last thing I do, but I need you to trust in me, in the pack. There are better ways to do this than going off half-cocked.”

  It was so hard not to claw him right then. She ached, every part of her that was Wolf aching to run up to that stage and take her vengeance. But he was right. The smallest voice in her mind demanded she listen. That she feel his struggle not to attack for her. It was there, a shade of vicious blood rage in her heart too dark and contained to be her own. With a sigh, she let go, her body yielding to his.

  “We’ll get back to the mountain and take this to Pale,” Tate promised, brushing his lips over hers the same way he stroked his hand down her back. Reassuring them both that they were making the right choice. “The way he hates Thompson, any intel you have is going to be like Christmas to him.”

  She bit back a chuckle, trying her best to tune out the voice droning around them. “Since when are you the reasonable one?” The word impulsive had been invented for Tate.

  He shrugged. “It wasn’t my idea. You’re the one who taught me a few things about patience. Speaking of, don’t jump, but here he comes your granny’s man.”

  Of course she jumped, but she did as his hands commanded once more and didn’t turn around. Under the pretense of looking at her, she could see his eyes following the movement of the oncoming guide.

  Two sharp raps on the other end of the bench and the man walked past them. Tate nudged her and—heart in her throat—Lia got up with him to follow. She let Tate lead, despite his maddening pace. All she wanted to do was run and catch up to the dark-haired man in the brown leather jacket, trying not to snarl in frustration when she’d lose track of him in the thick, moving crowd.

  “Easy, Lia. I’ve got him, you don’t need to push. We don’t want to tip anyone off to this meeting.”

  Lia frowned at the back of his head as they slipped past people and rides, his nose leading him unerringly back to the man in the brown leather jacket. So much for his theory on scents, but they couldn’t have known to expect a hunter like Tate.

  Suddenly, they were there. The man had stopped outside a fortune-teller’s tent, his dark eyes on them as he waited next to the lowered ends of the entrance. Lia blinked, staring at his face. She’d seen him before, years ago. He’d been leaner, working on Aurelia’s roof, smiling at her and Laurel when Laurel had waved from across the street. One of Aurelia’s great-grandsons? He lifted the flap and indicated they were to go inside.

  Tate stared at the opening but made no move to go in.

  “We trusted you this far, Wolf,” the man said in a voice that didn’t carry far. “Your turn to trust us.”

  Tate didn’t like it, that was sure, but Lia couldn’t turn away. Already a familiar scent danced around her. “She’s in there, Tate.”

  Not willing to wait any longer, she passed through only slightly ahead of her grumbling mate. Instantly, they were both enveloped in the cool, dim air…and the scent of the woman she could never forget.

  “Aurelia?” Lia nearly choked on the name, stumbling forward in the small space to the table and chairs where the old woman was struggling to rise. All Lia could see through a growing haze of tears was a calico print dress and a faded pink sweater over knobby, fragile bones. One gnarled brown hand rested on the edge of the cloth-covered round table and the other held onto a polished wood cane. “Oh, my God, it’s really you!”

  Without thought, Lia wrapped her arms around the frail lady. She had to lean down so far she might as well have just knelt down, but she didn’t care. She buried her face in Aurelia’s white hair, throwing off the sunglasses and the hat as she did so, and closed her eyes against relieved tears that escaped faster than she could catch them.

  The cane fell with a soft thump to the carpeted ground as Aurelia hugged her back, her hold surprisingly strong for someone who looked like a mild breeze could knock her over.

  “When I heard your voice, I didn’t think it was possible.” Even choking up with obvious emotion, the voice didn’t match her tiny frame. Armed with a deep growl, Aurelia Collier had always terrified the children on their little block, but not Lia and Laurel. They’d known from the beginning that Aurelia’s true nature was more that of a cantankerous teddy bear. “I knew you weren’t dead. In my heart, I knew, but I never thought I’d hear you again.”

  It took all her strength not to squeeze Aurelia harder, but Lia breathed her in as deep as she could. Finally, finally, she could smell home again. Aurelia’s gnarled hands came up to grasp her face, parting their embrace as she felt the contours of Lia’s tearful smile. Those thumbs wiped the tears before falling away.

  “I can feel your parents on your face,” Aurelia whispered, sounding both mournful and pleased at the same time.

  “I know.” Lia stared down, trying to regain some of her emotional equilibrium. Not easily done when Aurelia’s hand gripped hers so tight.

  Not much had changed on the old woman. Same olive-brown skin, wrinkled and thin, same round, deep-set eyes. More lines had gathered around those eyes, running over her cheeks and down from the corners of her mouth. Even her chin had lines, but Lia couldn’t fault her for them. One didn’t get to be a ninety-five-year-old blind woman without showing some weathering. Especially not if you were Aurelia, who’d long ago proven herself fearless and indestructible. If she wasn’t, she wouldn’t be so far from the home she’d lived in for seventy years. It probably helped that whatever she didn’t like, she would simply crack with her cane until it died or was destroyed.

  “I hear you’ve brought someone with you,” Aurelia said, crusty as ever, righting Lia’s rusty manners in a heartbeat.

  She sent Tate an apologetic glance before clearing her throat. “Jensen Tate, this is Mrs. Aurelia Collier. Aurelia, this is my…”

  “Fiancé,” Tate answered, shaking his head at Lia as if he were silently laughing his head off at
her. He offered his hand out to Aurelia, but with his palm extended, fingers spread.

  Lia frowned at him, but Aurelia leaned forward slightly and, if Lia didn’t know better, she’d think the old woman sniffed. Then she fit her hand on top, allowing him to raise it and drop a soft kiss on her bulbous knuckles.

  “Got yourself one with manners, it seems,” Aurelia murmured, though Lia could sense warm approval in her tone. She stuck her hand out expectantly. “Cane.”

  Tate bent down for it, for some reason testing its weight before handing it back to her.

  “Not only does your favorite granny know Bears, honey, she is a Bear,” Tate whispered next to her ear, faint enough that she wasn’t sure she heard him properly.

  “I didn’t complain that she brought home a Wolf, did I?” Aurelia sighed as she settled heavily back into her seat.

  Lia stared back and forth at both of them. “She’s not a Bear.” She was Aurelia. She’d met a Bear and his scent wasn’t anything like Aurelia’s. He’d smelled of trees and cool stone. Aurelia’s scent was of arthritis ointment and aloe, cold cream mixed with talcum.

  Tate tapped his nose. “Haven’t been wrong yet, remember?”

  She turned to the woman who had been all but a second mother to her. “You were a shifter and you never said anything?”

  Aurelia toyed with her cane, rolling the curved end side to side in her hand, her mouth turned downward in a hard scowl. “What was there to say? Your parents were determined to assimilate into human society. Most shifters don’t know Bear scent anymore so it was easy enough to let them believe what they wanted. They wanted a kindly old lady to help them watch over their children like a grandmother. I was happy to oblige.”

  Tate slipped his hands into his pockets. “Most of the Bears left make it a point to stay out of the busy areas.”

  “We made an exception for Lia.” She lightly slapped the table. “Sit down, both of you, you’re giving my neck a crick.”

  Tate actually laughed as he pulled the two fabric-covered chairs from the opposite side of the table to arrange them closer to Aurelia. “We couldn’t give you a crick if we hit you with a sledge hammer.”

  “Tate!” In her shock, it took Lia a second to wonder why a blind woman would concern herself with facing them, but by then she’d obediently taken the seat as ordered.

  “Bears get stronger bones with age, honey. She’s not arthritic. She’s a tank.”

  “And you’re impertinent.”

  “Yes ma’am,” Tate replied and to Lia’s further shock, the lined corners of Aurelia’s mouth tipped upward.

  “Jensen Tate, did I hear that right?” Aurelia tapped her forefinger on her chin. “You wouldn’t be one of those California Wolves I’ve been hearing so much about.”

  Finally, Tate looked surprised. “You’ve heard about Wolves in California?”

  “Mmm, heard they were out mining in the mountains, looking for a miracle.”

  The hair on the back of her neck rose subtly, but Aurelia was certainly no threat. Tate’s smooth mask of calm wasn’t as reassuring. His apprehension tightened in her heart like a sharp stone. “What miracle?” she asked him.

  “According to the old stories,” her namesake answered instead, “there’s a cavern in those mountains, one of the seven sacred wells hidden all over the world. The wells are where the ancient ones went to worship. They’re supposed to be filled with a living essence that’s the source of all magic.”

  “It’s a crock,” Tate interjected harshly.

  “Probably,” Aurelia agreed easily enough, letting the conversation lapse into silence for a few brief seconds. “My grandmother used to tell me that essence was what kept us safe from human fear.”

  “If that were true, it’s not working anymore.” Lia traced her finger over the indentation that had once been a five-inch scar in her arm. They’d cut away part of the bone to test how the fertility injections they forced on her affected her regeneration. Her skin was smooth, but the dip remained. Which meant Jade hadn’t been able to repair what wasn’t there to fix. Just went to show, some wounds could never be healed, some wrongs could never be fixed. “Or maybe it’s simply that they don’t fear us at all.”

  Aurelia’s face smoothed. Her hand took hold of Lia’s again, this time the grip almost painful. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t protect you that night. I couldn’t get there. I heard the screams, but I couldn’t get there.”

  “No, Aurelia.” Lia capped her hand over the older woman’s fingers, then pressed her cheek to the papery skin. “They’d have just taken you too. Or worse.” She didn’t want to imagine worse. It was bad enough having heard the shot that killed her parents, ending them so quickly there wasn’t enough time even to gasp.

  “I took care of Laurel, though,” Aurelia’s voice sounded as if she had to reassure herself. Her heavy hand landed on Lia’s head, petting back her hair the way she’d done when Lia was small. “I went to her when she called me. I took care of her, just like I promised your parents I would.”

  Lia sat up, fearful hope bubbling in her chest. “Laurel called you? She’s alive?”

  “Yes, she’s alive—”

  “Wh-where is she?” Lia stood up, the chair almost falling behind her as she turned to Tate. “Can I see her? Is she here?”

  “Lia, sit down,” Aurelia said but Lia couldn’t quite do it.

  Instead she grabbed onto Tate, torn between crying and laughing and maybe even passing out from sheer relief. She pressed kisses on his face, not sure why he wasn’t jumping up and down with her. “She’s alive, Tate.”

  “I know, baby, but I think your Bear-lady has more to tell you.” If his voice wasn’t so grim, his jaw tight as he stared at Aurelia like she’d done something wrong, Lia wasn’t sure she’d have been able to see past her own euphoria.

  “What else could there be?” she asked, finally noticing how still Aurelia was sitting. How stiffly. “What’s wrong with her?”

  “She’s safe, Lia.” But the finality in Aurelia’s tone didn’t bode well.

  Lia swallowed despite her suddenly dry mouth. “Tell me.”

  “About two years ago, she called me from a truck stop down in Pocatello. She’d been on the road for weeks from the look of her. Sneaking into storage trucks and animal transports to get place to place. It’s a miracle she made it that far without being caught, but one of the drivers turned out to be shifter and he got her in touch with me. I fetched her myself, though my fool grandson insisted on driving. When we got to her, she was close to feral. It was clear she’d begun shifting, probably to survive.”

  Lia closed her eyes, sinking back into her chair. Laurel had been too young back then. Shifting was part of puberty. Doing it too soon caused damage, not just physically, but to the mind sometimes as well.

  “She’s with my Ursa, our leader. She’s been taken in as part of our tribe. She’s safe, I promise you she’s safe.” Aurelia’s voice was nearly pleading.

  “Why do you keep saying that? If she’s safe, why can’t I see her?” But Lia wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She felt Tate surround her long before he stood up next to her, laying his hand over her shoulder.

  “Because she doesn’t know who you are,” Aurelia finally whispered. “She doesn’t know who she is, or maybe I should say, who she used to be. The reason she called me was because mine was the first number she said that they could reach. All she would say, over and over, was a list of information. Words that didn’t seem to have meaning to her anymore. Her name, her address, her phone number. My name, my phone number. The school she went to. The colors she liked. Her favorite book.”

  God! Lia shook off Tate’s hand, bolting from the chair to find some kind of escape, but the tent was small. Only enough space to walk back and forth a few times, trying to find some kind of grip on what she was being told.

  “That was my list,” she ground out. “The things I would tell her every night to make her feel safe. So she’d be able to focus on who she was. So she wou
ldn’t forget.”

  Instead she’d brainwashed her.

  Abandoned her.

  “Lia.”

  She couldn’t let herself hear Tate’s voice right then. He’d only tell her she hadn’t done anything wrong. Tell her it wasn’t her fault.

  “Lia.” Tate was more insistent this time, his big body now in the way of her pacing. His hands snaked around her waist, pulling her against him. She struggled, but he held her in place with seemingly no effort at all. Finally, she gave in, laying her head on his chest.

  “This is what a mate is for.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, another to the side of her face. “We share our pain, remember? You don’t have to hold it back from me.”

  She sighed, her body sagging against him another little bit. He was right. And his hold felt so good. She sank in even more, letting the hurt fade.

  “How much does she remember?” he asked, loud enough that his words could only be for Aurelia.

  It said something to Lia that Aurelia didn’t take offense at the command to answer. “Only the phrases we found her saying. It took a long time for her to find peace enough to let go of the past she couldn’t remember. The Ursa is good to her. They live deep in the forests, where she can shift and run and no one thinks anything of it.”

  “There’s a place like that here?” Tate asked, though Lia picked up a thread of something she couldn’t quite identify in his tone.

  “You think you Wolves are the only shifters trying to save lives?”

  His entire body tightened under her hands.

  “Until you and that arrogant Alpha prove yourselves, you’ll not get another word from me about that, Wolf.” The rumble garbling her words clearly warned that he was talking to a woman who would have little compunction picking her teeth with his bones. “As for your sister, I check in on her often, but I think even that upsets her. Reminds her that there was a life she had before. She’s made something of herself and I don’t like to interfere. She goes by Laura now. She paints, makes jewelry that goes toward the tribe’s income, goes to school, lives as normal a life as a shifter can. She’s…happy.”