Sharon's Wolves (Wolf Masters Book 10)

by Becca Jameson

  It seemed everything would come to a head right here.

  “What the hell is going on?” Jackson communicated into her mind. “Isn’t that Veronica Miller?”

  “Yes. Long story.”

  “I think I can gather the gist of it.”

  Mayor Cromwell held up a hand. “Please, everyone, take a seat.” When the hush died down to a minimum, he continued. “Frankly, I’m appalled at how immaturely many of you are behaving. Now, I don’t give two shakes about anyone’s disagreements over old topics. We aren’t here to discuss morals, religion, or jilted girlfriends.”

  Sharon almost choked out a laugh when Mayor Cromwell, who obviously knew the history, glared at Veronica.

  “We’re gathered here tonight because, like it or not, our lives and our land are at stake. These small earthquakes are serious and could very well be indicative of something much larger.” His voice was stern. His glare at the audience was ferocious.

  Sharon didn’t think she’d ever seen him so serious and tipping the edge of losing it. The man was usually the calmest, most collected person she knew. Too bad he wasn’t a shifter.

  Someone else from Cambridge jumped to his feet and pointed a finger at the mayor. “If you’re willing to listen to these assholes, you’re a bigger fool than I thought, Cromwell. The Masters cannot be trusted. They continue to form threesomes with those damn Indians, increasing the numbers on their commune at the edge of the reservation.

  “I can’t believe you’d be so stupid as to give a rat’s ass what they have to say about anything. Hell, they’re probably making the entire thing up just to draw attention away from their hedonistic ways.” The man shook as he finished speaking, glaring at Sharon’s father and then directly at her.

  She held her head high. No one had a lick of proof anything was happening in her family that wasn’t on the up and up. They had broken no law ever. None of them were even married to one person, let alone two. And she would never deny Fate and take heed of whatever any other soul thought about her.

  “Shit,” Jackson muttered into her head.

  As if on cue, Veronica jumped up and shouted at him directly. “Jackson Wolf, you’re a damn fool. Can’t you see these people are playing you? Why do you stand there in support of the Masters as if you too have taken to sleeping with one of them? I’ll bet you’re sleeping with one of the Bartel-Hamiltons too. Which one is it?” She shuddered in an exaggerated manner as she finished speaking.

  Jackson said nothing beside Sharon.

  She wanted to reach out to him. She couldn’t, but she wished she could pull him into her embrace and tell him how sorry she was he’d been dragged into the battle against his free will.

  Free will simply didn’t have much of a part in this mayhem.

  Melinda stepped into the room and scurried around the edge to reach Sharon’s side while the mayor tried to regain control once again.

  “Sorry I’m late. What’d I miss?”

  Sharon chuckled and muttered, “What didn’t you miss?”

  Two men Sharon recognized stood side by side against the back wall. She’d seen them spying on the fracking site the night she went with Cooper. One of them stepped forward. “Mayor Cromwell, if I may, I’d be happy to explain what’s happening to the land. I’m not from this area. Perhaps your people and the people of Sojourn would find it easier to stomach the news if it comes from a stranger.”

  Melinda leaned between Sharon and Jackson and whispered, “Those are the men Cooper and I met in the woods. That’s Isaiah Arthur.”

  Sharon nodded. She didn’t care who it was if he could get these idiots to listen to reason. So far that seemed unlikely.

  “Why the hell would we listen to you?” Pete Sandhouse shouted. “No offense, but where are you even from?”

  The man with the short-cropped brown hair turned to face the Native American crowd. The man was not entirely Caucasian, but Sharon wasn’t sure what his mix of nationalities was. Who the hell cared?

  “I’m from Tolecula, just north of here. Name’s Isaiah Arthur. This is my brother Wyatt.” He nodded beside him and continued. “We’re just as interested in making sure the land in this area is stable as the rest of you. And we’ve been keeping a close eye on what’s happening. If you’ll just hear me out.”

  Sandhouse looked fit to kill. “Listen, asshole. No offense, but this is a town meeting for locals. We don’t need anyone from outside telling us what to do.”

  Sharon’s gaze jerked to another woman who jumped to her feet near the front of the room. Jazmine Wolf.

  Jackson stiffened beside Sharon. “Oh no. My sister isn’t known for holding her tongue when push comes to shove.” He stepped forward and froze.

  Sharon followed his line of sight to an older couple near the front a few rows from Jazmine. “Jackson?”

  “My parents.” His voice was clipped, even in her mind.

  Jazmine stood tall, her chin high, her voice higher. “Pete Sandhouse, shut the hell up and sit your ass down. You’ve been nothing but a pain in the rear to most of the citizens of Sojourn and Cambridge for years. You’ve done nothing but abuse your power as deputy to terrorize people of all walks of life.

  “At this point I don’t think you even know what the hell you’re so pissed about. You just like to be angry. Nobody takes you seriously anymore.”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are, sister?” Pete retaliated with, his voice an octave too high.

  Sharon flinched. Mentally she reached out to Jackson. “You okay?”

  “Oh, yeah. This is a delight,” he added with sarcasm.

  She glanced at him, but he looked like he was stable enough to remain in his spot.

  Jazmine responded in the same calm voice she’d been using the entire time. Her words were pointed and specific. Her calm radiated from her small frame as if she felt every bit of it. “I am most certainly not your ‘sister’; that’s for sure. I’m embarrassed to share a race with you, in fact. You’re a bigot and an asshole.

  “Everyone who matters knows you’ve had a hard-on for the Masters and the Bartels for years. You’ve been living on borrowed time, brother. So I suggest you shut the hell up, like I said, sit your ass down, and listen to reason. Our very existence depends on it.”

  “What do you care, bitch?” Sandhouse shouted back. “You sleeping with some white man or two? Jumping sides with the rest of these pale-face-loving fools? Is a white man’s dick bigger than your own kind? Is that it? Or do you just like the money that comes from sleeping with one of those pilgrims from Cambridge? Maybe you found yourself a white sugar daddy who covers your expenses, huh?”

  Sharon grabbed Jackson’s arm now. It wasn’t that she truly intended to stop him from going after the mother fucker with the big mouth, but he didn’t need to. For one thing, Sandhouse was digging his own grave. No sense jumping in it with him. And for another thing, Mary Williams had risen from her chair not far from Sharon.

  Mary was white. Mary was also Jazmine’s secret lover.

  Jazmine threw her head back and laughed.

  The hush that fell over the room was deafening.

  When she finally managed to get herself under control and wiped the tears from her eyes, she turned her glare back toward Sandhouse and the rest of his cronies. “Well, isn’t that the bomb. You think you know everything about everyone in town, Sandhouse? You think the entire Native American population of Sojourn, or hell even the reservation, bows down to your word?

  “Well, you don’t know everything, pretty boy. Because I’ve never slept with a man in my life.”

  A collective gasp filled the room.

  “That’s right. You know why?”

  Sandhouse chuckled. “Because you’ve got a stick up your ass so high you can’t get your legs to spread?”

  “Don’t you wish.” Jazmine glanced almost imperceptibly toward Mary, who was making her way across the room. She jerked her gaze back to Sandhouse. “News flash, asshole. I’m a lesbian.” Just as she shared the new
s, Mary stepped up beside her and wrapped her arm around Jazmine’s middle.

  Sandhouse looked as though he’d been throat punched. His mouth fell open, and his eyes went wider than saucers.

  Jackson chuckled beside Sharon. “Good for her.”

  Sharon swelled with pride herself. About time Jazmine and Mary came out. Their insistence on secrecy had driven them both to hide and sneak around for years.

  “Now that we’ve got that uneventful piece of information cleared up, do you mind if I step up to the mic?” Isaiah asked, facing the mayor.

  “Be my guest,” Mayor Cromwell said, stepping to one side.

  “Look at my parents’ faces,” Jackson muttered. “I wish I had a camera. Wait until they find out about you and Cooper.”

  She followed his line of sight to the older couple who were now two shades of red darker. His mother had her lips pursed. His father held his mother’s hand and jerked her until she faced the front of the room. Apparently, the man wasn’t willing to accept his daughter’s revelation, nor was he willing to allow his wife to.

  Sharon’s chest hurt for Jackson and his sister.

  Jackson grabbed her hand and squeezed for just a moment before releasing her. “Please don’t give my parents one second of your energy. They’re bigots, just like Sandhouse. I don’t expend my energy on them, and you shouldn’t, either.”

  She nodded and turned her gaze back to the podium as Isaiah Arthur leaned into the mic. “Folks, I realize you have a lot of bad blood running in this area. But I’m going to ask you to put your differences aside and listen to reason. All this arguing isn’t going to help anyone.

  “The land beneath our feet is unstable. We have reason to believe the cause of the tremors you’re feeling and dozens of smaller ones you can’t detect are the direct result of fracking.”

  Many gasps filled the room.

  “Although there are times when fracking can be a benefit to the area where the drilling occurs, that’s not always the case. And this would be one of those times. The fracking site just north of here is on top of the epicenter of the latest series of small quakes. History would suggest that the quakes will continue to increase in magnitude if we don’t insist on putting a halt to this particular company.”

  “What can we do?” someone asked amid the gasps from all sides of the room.

  “The best thing you can do right now is bombard your local and state government with calls and emails demanding a state injunction to put a stop to this particular fracking site immediately. The company will insist they’re doing no harm. They will have their own experts state there is no seismic activity worth mentioning beneath them. They will argue. But you have to have the louder voice. And this means now. Tonight. Tomorrow. The danger is imminent.”

  A hush fell over the room while Mayor Cromwell stepped back up to the mic. “Folks, I have been briefed on this topic for hours today. What this man says is true. I’ve seen the evidence. It’s time we toss our differences aside, band together, and ensure the safety of our citizens and land.

  “A major earthquake in this area would cause widespread destruction, the likes of which none of us can imagine.”

  “We just went through an earthquake three years ago. Could another one that large happen again so soon?” someone asked.

  Isaiah leaned toward the mic again. “Without a doubt. And larger.”

  As if this stranger had the power to make his words true, the floor began to shake beneath Sharon’s feet. She grabbed Jackson’s arm and turned to look at his face.

  The shaking increased, causing complete bedlam in the room as everyone screamed at once and ran for the exits. People fell over one another as they fought to get out of the auditorium. Light fixtures broke loose and fell from the walls, the sconces landing on the hard wood aisles in a shattering of glass.

  Sharon stood frozen, watching the scene around her. Several citizens fell to the floor after being hit by falling debris. Others had gashes on their arms and faces from the glass light fixtures. As she watched, a man literally stepped on an older woman unconscious on the floor in order to get by her. He didn’t even stop to help or glance down to see if she was alive.

  “Sharon,” Cooper shouted into her head. “Jackson.”

  “Cooper,” Jackson responded. “What’s happening? How big is this quake? Where are you?”

  “It’s not just an earthquake.” Cooper’s voice trailed away for a moment, leaving Sharon freaked out.

  “Cooper!”

  “Get out of the auditorium. Round up as many people as you can to head into the mountains. Every person living or hiking or vacationing outside the city must be reached. They need to take only what they can carry and get off the mountain.”

  “Cooper,” Jackson said, “what do you mean it’s not an earthquake? We can feel it from here. The entire building is collapsing.”

  The ground continued to rumble, the screams in the room growing louder. A creaking noise drew her attention to the ceiling. She prayed the load-bearing beams would hold the roof until everyone could get out.

  As she focused her attention back on Cooper, a bone-chilling shiver raced down her spine.

  “Volcano.”

  That was the last word they heard from Cooper before he broke contact with them, or it was broken for him.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Isaiah and Wyatt Arthur headed straight toward Sharon as she backed up to the outer wall with Melinda, Jackson, and Gene.

  Isaiah grabbed Sharon by the arm the second he arrived. “You spoke to your mate,” he shouted over the din. “What did he say?”

  Sharon stared at him quizzically. “How did you…? What are you?” She glanced at Jackson on her other side.

  “No time to explain. Tell me.”

  “He said it’s a volcano.” Sharon shuddered just repeating the words.

  Melinda gasped.

  Isaiah and his brother both nodded as if not surprised. What the hell?

  The volume in the auditorium increased, and people ran in every direction. “We have to get word to the people in the surrounding areas. Does someone have a list of properties and work stations?”

  “The mayor,” Sharon shouted over the screaming. “But there’s no way in hell we can cover much territory without hundreds of volunteers.” She threw her hands over her head as the crumbing ceiling rained down on her.

  When she glanced back up, she found dozens of injured on the floor either holding on to an injury or unconscious. They needed help. Fast.

  Wyatt grabbed Sharon’s other arm. “Ask Cooper how much time we have.” He pushed her closer to the wall to avoid the debris.

  She stared at him, her mouth hanging open. Again she wondered what the hell these two men were. They certainly weren’t human. And they also weren’t wolves. How the hell could she not scent them? Now wasn’t the time to ask questions.

  She closed her eyes and listened as Jackson asked the question into both her and Cooper’s heads. “Coop. How much time do we have?”

  “Not sure yet. It’s impossible to predict whether or not there will be lava flowing from the rip in the earth or simply steam. I wouldn’t rule out anything yet. What I’m seeing from here is a series of fumaroles, basically holes in the earth’s surface where steam is spilling out. Several of them opened at once, and steam is shooting into the air from the locations of the fracking drills.”

  Sharon turned toward Isaiah and Wyatt. “He doesn’t know.”

  “Lava?” Wyatt asked.

  “Not yet. It’s unpredictable. Something about fumaroles spewing steam.”

  Wyatt nodded. “Okay. Let’s organize these people so that everyone takes a few addresses and makes their way up the mountain to warn others.”

  The rumbling had subsided while Sharon engaged in this most peculiar conversation with two men she didn’t know who were obviously neither human nor shifters—or at least not wolves. She shuddered to imagine what that might imply. She grabbed Jackson by the hand. “We have to h
elp everyone get out of this building.”

  He nodded. “I’ll organize that. You go find your parents. Make a plan. I think Wyatt and Isaiah are right.”

  She squeezed his arm and spun around to follow the rest of the members of her community and Sojourn’s citizens out of the auditorium. Were they crazy to follow the directions of two total strangers? Even Jackson seemed to think the Arthur brothers’ words held merit. Instinct?

  It took only a few minutes to exit the building. The giant hodgepodge of attendees were in groups all over the now-cracked parking lot. A loud siren blared nearby, making her throw her hands over her ears to block the noise. She scrunched up her face. The rumbling and shouting inside the auditorium had kept her from hearing the warning siren until that moment.

  Her father grabbed her forearm as she stepped outside. Jazmine and Mary ran in their direction also. The entire scene was surreal. Women screamed all around her. Men shouted.

  Her father jumped onto the hood of the nearest car and stuck two fingers into his mouth to let out the loudest whistle she’d ever heard.

  Sharon’s mother, Carlie, ran toward her and wrapped her arms around her in a hug. “What’s happening?”

  Sharon smiled at her mother. Of course everyone in the shifter community would count on her to be in contact with Cooper. She prayed she didn’t let them down. And then she lifted her face and briefly brought her father up to speed.

  Her dad grabbed a megaphone from the mayor. The moment the siren turned away from them to blare in the opposite direction, he took control. “Everyone, may I please have your attention.” When the noise level subsided to a dull roar, he continued. “The tremors we all felt were not the result of a larger earthquake.”

  “What the hell was that then, wise guy?” Pastor Edmund shouted in retort. “Don’t you think I know better than anyone what we’re facing here? God’s wrath. Plain and simple. Our Lord is furious with the way we have permitted those among us who do not take His word seriously to destroy our towns. We must repent. We must prepare for the worst. The end is coming.”