by Black, Tasha
Interesting that he said positive energy. Ainsley had thought the portal was bad juju. Though Erik had certainly come out of the cavern feeling good and convinced there was nothing bad down there. Maybe there was something to this.
“But I guess now I have to leave,” Pinkwater said, looking desolate, his pale eyes watery again.
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Ainsley said crisply, hoping he wouldn’t try to hug her or something.
He beamed like a boy scout getting a patch.
“In fact,” Ainsley went on, “I might want to ask you a favor.”
Episode 4
Chapter 1
Javier strode through the woods more slowly than he would have liked.
Against his better judgment and the instinct of his wolf, he was escorting Stewart Pinkwater back to the creek, where the portal was. And Pinkwater wasn’t exactly a fast walker.
Ainsley led the way, followed by the squirrelly little man, with Javier bringing up the rear so he could keep an eye on him.
Pinkwater seemed decidedly uncomfortable in the trees. His manner of carrying himself told Javier he was the indoors-y type, but it seemed to be more than that.
Something had the man on edge, darting furtive glances into the thicket every few paces and trotting to stay close to Ainsley.
At least he knew enough to recognize a leader.
Javier still didn’t completely trust the guy. But Ainsley was the boss, and if she was okay with him, that was the end of the story.
Javier had first come to Tarker’s Hollow because of the rumor that there was a void in the local leadership. But when he arrived, Ainsley had wasted no time showing him how wrong he was about that.
It turned out to be for the best. Javier had never been happier than he was serving his new alpha. Things had shaken out better than he’d ever expected.
And now that two of her most trusted allies were away, Ainsley was giving him more responsibilities. In those moments when she would have turned to Grace or Cressida, she was more often turning to him. He only hoped he was fulfilling her expectations. It flooded him with pride to be given the chance to earn his place in the pack.
Although, all things being equal, he would have much preferred to have Cressida around.
Cressida Crow.
The woman confounded him. She was an enigma - sexy yet defiant, kind-hearted and sarcastic - a mystery in cowboy boots.
He’d been hopelessly smitten since the day they met.
She was hot as hell, sure, but with his good looks and quiet disposition, Javier had never had any trouble with the ladies, hot or otherwise.
No, there was something more about Cressida, something authentic. He was intoxicated by her confidence and her comfort in her own skin. She could be unapologetic and crass and stubborn.
And she was absolutely wonderful.
His thoughts went back to the night in the woods before she took off again. His thoughts often went back to that tangle of warm bodies and ecstasy.
She had said she didn’t want anything serious, but he knew better. There was a connection between them, too strong to ignore. It was just a matter of getting her to stop reflexively saying no for long enough to think about whether she might actually prefer to say yes. He hadn’t been able to figure out how to give her that opportunity yet. But he would.
Javier was a patient man.
And Cressida was worth waiting for.
Suddenly Pinkwater’s posture changed, snapping Javier out of his fantasies.
They had reached the creek.
Pinkwater approached the bank, entranced. The nervousness that had practically hunched his body over before had evaporated.
“It’s wonderful,” he breathed in a voice that was deeper than before. “Where is it?”
“Down there,” Ainsley said, pointing to the water.
Pinkwater took another step toward it, stopping when his loafers squelched in the mud.
He looked down at the dark water for a second, as if he were considering just walking right into it, then turned back to Ainsley.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Off limits,” she replied.
His face fell. But he moved out of the mud obligingly.
“Of course,” he said, his voice slightly whiny again. “Sorry. I just lost myself for a moment.”
“Tell me what you feel,” Ainsley demanded, ignoring the apology.
“It’s… wonderful,” he said. “Something like elation mixed with pure white light. I’ve never felt anything like it. I’m sure this is what drew me here.”
Ainsley nodded slowly.
“And you’re sure what you feel here is a good thing?” she asked. “Positive energy?”
“Oh yes,” he replied at once. “Nothing like what I felt in the woods earlier. There is something dark here. But it’s not this.”
“Thank you, Mr. Pinkwater,” Ainsley said, nodding.
“Stewart, please,” he replied.
Ainsley turned back to Javier.
“This is interesting,” she said. “Not what we expected at all. I wonder what this means for our friends in Fletcher’s Cove.”
“Did you say Fletcher’s Cove?” Javier asked, sure that he had misheard.
“Yes,” Ainsley said. “That’s where Grace and Cressida are. They think they’re close to a breakthrough. Why?”
“Fletcher’s Cove is my old pack.”
Chapter 2
Grace stood on the boardwalk in front of Castaways, debating whether or not to go into the bar.
She had been standing in the same spot for the last five minutes, and it was starting to get chilly. Music and warm lights filtered out invitingly from inside.
She definitely wasn’t looking for anything from Glenn. Her heartbreak over Julian wasn’t finished yet, might never be finished.
But it would be good to have someone to talk to, someone who understood. And Glenn seemed so… nice.
A gust of cold, fishy air swept up from the ocean, sending an abandoned newspaper on the boardwalk into an impromptu ballet.
You can’t stand out here all night.
Grace took a deep breath and then pulled open the thick wooden door.
For all of the lights and music, there weren’t many people inside. It was a nice space though, clean and homey. Golden pine floors matched the bar and the paneled walls, giving the whole place the feeling of the inside of a ship.
There was an old jukebox against one wall. An Elton John song drifted from overhead speakers.
Grace headed for the bar, but stopped before she reached it.
No sign of Glenn.
Ugh. She felt like an idiot.
She took a quick glance around. The bartender was leaning in, talking to an older man she didn’t recognize, no one else was paying her any mind. If she left quickly enough, no one would notice.
She was reaching for the door when she heard him.
“Grace?”
She turned slowly to see Glenn heading her way from the direction of the bathrooms.
“Sorry,” he said, looking embarrassed. “I was just uh… you know… It’s true what they say. You don’t buy beer, just rent it.” He gave her a sheepish smile.
Grace felt instantly at ease and smiled back.
“Want to sit down?” he asked. “We can go back to the bar, or get a table.”
“The bar is fine,” she said, taking a deep breath.
He led the way to the end of the bar and offered her a stool.
She sat and he joined her, draining the last sip from a dark bottle that was already in his spot.
“What are you drinking?” he asked her.
Grace looked at the bottle in his hand. The label had a picture of a sexy woman in a low cut dress and a pointy hat, the words Witchcraft Ale above her.
“That looks good,” she said, trying to stifle a smile.
“Hey Mickey,” Glenn called to the bartender. He held up the bottle and two fingers.
Th
e bartender opened two more bottles and brought them down.
“Are you hungry?” Glenn asked.
Grace hesitated, unsure whether she wanted to get stuck sharing a meal.
“Can we just have some nachos for now?” Glenn asked the bartender.
“Coming up,” Mickey replied.
“So, are you guys settling in okay?” Glenn asked, turning his attention back to her.
“Yes,” Grace nodded. “As well as we can. It’s good to start getting the lay of the land.”
“You’re staying at the Beachfront?”
“Yes,” Grace nodded.
“It’s clean there,” he said. “No view though.”
“Yes, the name is a little misleading,” Grace chuckled. “But we couldn’t argue with the price.”
Glenn laughed.
Grace took a swig of the beer. It was bitter and delicious and it warmed her from the inside. She found that she was in the mood to chat after all.
They made small talk for a bit. It was pleasant. Grace felt good pretending the weight of the world wasn’t bearing down on her for a few minutes.
When they had used up all the niceties about the weather and the town, there was a lull.
Glenn cleared his throat.
“It was my wife,” he said without preamble. “Three years ago. Drunk driver.”
The words were like anchors.
“I’m so sorry,” Grace said.
“People tell you to move on,” he went on. “Sell the house. Transfer to another town. Somewhere where you don’t drive past the scene of the accident almost every day. Make it easier to forget.”
He stopped and took a swig of his beer and Grace fought her warring instincts, one of which told her to look away, while the other told her to pat his hand or his knee, offer comfort. Neither would help. What he needed was a witness. She knew all too well.
“They don’t understand,” he continued. “The memories are all I have left. Why would I want to forget her?”
Grace couldn’t answer, so she nodded.
“I’d give anything to see Charlene one more time,” he said. “Just to say goodbye.”
She fought back the tears that suddenly prickled her eyes and nodded again.
“But,” he said, placing his beer on the bar with a clink, “if I had it all to do over again, even knowing how it was going to end, I wouldn’t hesitate.”
His serious brown eyes told her he meant what he said.
Her hand found the crystal that hung from her neck before she realized she was reaching for it.
It was obvious that it was her turn to speak. But she wasn’t sure what to say.
Her love for Julian had made her a better person. But the pain was overwhelming. She wondered briefly if she would be so quick to do it all again.
Of course I would.
The knowledge was there almost before she posed the question. And in that instant, she felt better than she had in months.
“Order up,” the bartender said happily, sliding a heaping plate of nachos toward them.
“Thanks, Mickey,” Glenn said, appearing to snap back to himself. He turned to Grace with a smile. “You have to try these. They’re the best.”
She watched him grab a big, gooey bite. And something refreshing occurred to her. It wouldn’t get easier to deal with the loss. But, like Glenn, she would get better at living her life in the spaces between. No one expected her to forget about Julian. But she needed to go on living. It wasn’t an insult to him. It was a tribute to how happy he had made her.
She leaned in, snagged a nacho, and took a big bite of spicy, crunchy goodness.
Glenn was not wrong about the nachos. About any of it.
Chapter 3
Cressida took a healthy swig of the bitter blend that masqueraded as coffee at The Grill Next Door.
It was just about dinnertime, and the regulars began to roll in. Cressida recognized the two men who ran the sunglasses kiosk and a lady who always seemed to stop in at about this time.
The fact that she could spot the regulars was a very bad sign. Against her better judgment, she let herself wonder how long they would be stuck in Fletcher’s Cove. The weeks at the campground had been unbearable, but this was almost worse, because they had seemed to be getting somewhere at first. She had been so sure they were close.
The waitress swung over and refilled her coffee without asking. The woman’s easy grace made her think of her job back at the Barry White Diner, assuming it was still waiting for her. She wondered vaguely if she ought to get a job here. Ainsley was subsidizing their expenses, so they didn’t exactly need the money. But a job might help with the boredom.
On the other hand, it would kill her cover story. And after all, whether or not they had hit a wall didn’t matter, they had to figure this out. The summer crowds would start rolling in soon, bringing in a wave of potential victims for the moroi that no one would miss.
The crowds and multiple victims would make it much, much harder to identify the moroi.
She wondered for the millionth time if the evil creature knew this too, if it was laying low, waiting for the food and cover of the tourist season.
Grace seemed to think it would need to feed sooner than that. It was this train of thought that kept them going, searching desperately for clues.
But it was hard to search for something unusual in a strange town. Everything seemed unusual to her. There was a wolf pack in Fletcher’s Cove. They should be helping.
After revealing herself to the pack the other night, she had been sure she would get a response. But so far no one had approached her. She had no idea who she had run with. The knowledge that she had revealed herself and learned nothing in return left her feeling vulnerable - a feeling Cressida didn’t appreciate in the least.
The only good thing about this place was the companionship.
As if she had called him, the door swung open and Lincoln Monroe stepped in. He approached her, taking a seat next to her at the counter.
“Hey Cress,” he said. “I thought you might be here.”
“Hi,” she replied.
Something about his smell was off. Cressida tried to pick it apart. There was something sickly about it, almost rancid. Maybe he was coming down with something.
“Man, I’m beat,” he declared. “I was working on my Uncle’s boat all morning.”
Cressida nodded. At least that explained the smell.
“Hey, I was thinking we could take it out together,” he continued. “Do you like to fish?”
The thought of being out in the ocean without solid ground under her feet sounded horrible. It must have showed.
“Fishing’s not your thing, huh?” Linc laughed. “Maybe just a little midnight cruise?”
His eyes twinkled.
“That might be nice,” she allowed.
“I’m going back to get the boat cleaned up and ready,” he said, leaning in to give her a kiss.
Just then the door opened. A familiar scent wafted in, sending Cressida’s wolf into a state of delight before she was able to put it together in her mind.
Javier.
It hit Cressida all at once why the whole place had smelled familiar the second they pulled into town.
Fletcher’s Cove smelled like Javier. Or at least like a lot of the stuff at his place. He must have been here before.
Had he ever mentioned it?
For the first time, she found herself wishing she and Javier had spent more time talking.
She looked past Linc to see Javier’s muscular form silhouetted by the fading sunlight outside the door. He was looking back at her, confusion on his face.
“Cressida,” he said.
Before she could reply, Linc turned around.
“Javi,” he yelled in recognition.
Oh god, they knew each other. Great.
Guilt tugged at her heart, though she had made no commitments to anyone. She had always been clear about that.
But her heart disagreed, pulli
ng her with such gusto toward the wolf in the doorway that it took all her strength to sit still.
Damn it.
Linc looked back and forth between Cressida and Javier for a moment.
Cressida wished fervently that she could do magic like Grace. She would use it to disappear.
“You know Cressida?” Linc asked Javier, his hand resting itself possessively on the back of her stool.
Cressida’s skin crawled in response.
“I thought I did,” Javier said coldly. He turned and headed back out the door.
Linc turned back to her and shrugged.
“That was weird,” he said.
Before he could ask her any questions or Javier could get any farther away, Cressida leapt off the stool.
“I think I’m going to need to take a rain check on that boat ride,” she said, throwing down a few bills on the counter and bolting out the door.
Chapter 4
Erik greeted Will Harkness at the top of the sycamore-lined drive of Harkness Farms with a handshake that turned into a quick hug.
The younger man looked great, and Erik suspected that had everything to do with his having found a mate during the Christmas holiday. Erik had taken the young wolf shifter under his wing when he learned what was going on here at the farm. Will, Darcy and the other wolf shifters at Harkness weren’t too keen on joining the pack in Tarker’s Hollow, what with the spell that held their shifting in check for three hundred moons. But they had become honorary members of the pack anyway.
Wolves stuck together.
“Will,” he said, “Good to see you!”
Erik had brought Bonnie, Jenny and LeeAnn with him to the farm because they were working on a volunteer project with Kate Harkness.
But Erik was coming in today instead of dropping them off because it occurred to him that Kate might be able to help him search for the missing wolves.
Mary Miller, LeeAnn’s eldest, had come along too, having struck up a fast friendship with Hannah Harkness.
“Come on inside,” Will said. “Mom’s excited to see everyone.”
“Is Darcy around?” Erik asked.
