Four Days (Seven Series #4)

by Dannika Dark

  The man angrily snatched a cloth napkin off someone’s table and held it to his bleeding arm. “You should learn to control your mutt,” he bit out.

  Austin took a step forward, and his voice became low and dangerous. “You had it coming when you put your finger on my packmate.”

  The manager apologized profusely to the offended man. “Sir, I’ll have a table reserved for you on your next visit. Everything on the house.”

  He shook his head and glared at Austin. “He’ll be picking up my tab. Be sure to give me his name so I can bill him for my suit.”

  “Forgive me. His party will be banned from coming back.”

  “That’s bullshit,” Austin growled. “If you have a problem with my wolf’s actions, then you take it out on him. Don’t even think about blacklisting my pack or my guests. I’ll take this to the higher authority.”

  Denver moved between Maizy and the man like a wall of fur and fangs, still protecting her. She held the scruff of his neck, staring at the manager. “That man tried to hurt me, and Denny didn’t do anything wrong.”

  The man with the bleeding arm flicked his stony eyes at the manager. “Since when do you let humans in here?”

  The manager wiped the sweat off his balding head and looked between everyone.

  Prince intervened. “I’m afraid the little one is right. Regardless of what Breed she is, a man should never put his hands on a woman, let alone a child. I think we can agree it escalated too far, but if that wolf is her watchdog, then he is entitled to protect the child if someone is threatening her safety. Little one, show him your arm.”

  There were a few faded red marks where the man had grabbed her. She let her arm slap against her side, still gripping Denver’s fur with her right hand.

  The manager looked at the bleeding man. “Sir, if this is true, then I’ll take care of your bill this evening but rescind my invitation for a free meal. If you wish to pursue this further, you can go through the Council. I don’t allow shifting in my restaurant, but I also don’t allow anyone here to feel threatened, including children.” He looked at Austin and sensed the power behind the three Packmasters. “Please take your wolf out, and I’ll bring you the bill. Perhaps it would be best if we all parted ways and cooled off. Don’t you agree?”

  Austin sighed dramatically. “Boys, let’s head out.”

  Everyone rose from the table and gathered their things. The man stormed toward the bathroom, and the manager focused his attention on other customers who looked ready to walk out.

  “Maizy, do you think you can get Denver outside and put him in the back of the truck?” Austin asked, eyeing the wolf skeptically.

  “C’mon, Denny.” Maizy walked proudly through that room, ignoring those who looked upon her with disdain because she was a human.

  Austin snapped his fingers. “Reno, I want you and April to give them a ride. Put Denver in the back of the truck, and I want you to sit with him.”

  I tossed Denver’s clothes at Reno. “See if you can get him to shift. He might get spooked and run away. Then you’ll be chasing him all over the city.”

  Reno snatched up the jeans from the table. “I’m going to make him shift in the back of the truck without his clothes and take the scenic route. How ’bout that?”

  “We’re short a car because of Ben,” April said, nibbling on her lip. “Wheeler, you’ll have to ride in the back with Reno. Ivy, you’re up front with me.”

  Jericho and Izzy left to ride in Austin’s car, so Lexi grabbed her purse and took off behind them. Austin lingered by Prince, speaking with him privately.

  I hadn’t moved from my spot at the table. “I think I might stay here a while.”

  A few heads turned.

  “What’s wrong?” April slung her purse over her shoulder and looked at Reno. “Go start up the truck, sweetie. I’ll be right there.”

  When April sat on my left, I turned to speak with her privately. “I’m not feeling well. The truck is so bumpy, and the food didn’t agree with me. I’m afraid I’ll get sick during the drive, so maybe I’ll just sit here until I feel better. Then I can call a cab, or maybe someone can come get me.”

  “We can’t just leave you here,” she said in disbelief.

  “Is there a problem?”

  We both looked up at Lorenzo, who stood on the opposite side of the table, his strong arms folded. Everyone else had gone.

  “She’s not feeling good.”

  I wanted to die from embarrassment. In her defense, April was human, and humans didn’t come with filters. She hadn’t learned all the nuances between packs, and I didn’t like appearing weak around a Packmaster. Especially Lorenzo, and I wasn’t sure why. The last time I’d met him, he almost beat a man. I’ve always believed violence should be a last resort, not a first.

  He laughed richly. “So the chicken-fried steak with a gravy boat didn’t settle well, I take it?”

  I lifted my chin proudly. “You shouldn’t laugh at someone’s pain.”

  His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “I’ll drive her home,” he offered.

  “She can’t ride in a bumpy car,” April said.

  “I can promise my Ferrari Enzo is the smoothest ride in town. I’ll have her there before your truck of wolves ever makes it. I insist.”

  April settled her hazel eyes on me. She often lined them with smoky eyeliner in varying colors, although she had rubbed some of it off during dinner. “Do you want to go with him?” she whispered. “He’s a Packmaster, but—”

  “Everyone’s waiting for you. Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

  Packmasters knew the rules and were bound to the laws. If he did something to me without my consent or harmed me in any way, my pack would have full rights to go after him. They could also choose to take it to the Council and collect money or land as compensation. I didn’t know Lorenzo, but he would be a fool to do anything but what he promised.

  I lifted my eyes to his, determined to ignore how attractive the man was. “I accept your offer.”

  Chapter 3

  After I sipped my water for another five minutes, Lorenzo escorted me to his black car, made sure I was comfortably seated, and buckled my seat belt. Everything about his Ferrari reminded me of a race car, or a spaceship. When he revved the engine in the parking lot, it gave off a ferocious growl.

  “Please stop.” I cradled my stomach and dragged my gaze out the window. After he turned the heater on a low setting, I unzipped my black sweater jacket, exposing the turquoise blouse underneath.

  “What do you think of my car?” he asked, easing onto the main road.

  I chose my words carefully. “Do you ever consider that something this flashy only reflects vanity and not status?”

  His dark eyes remained steady on the road ahead. “Someone of my status has earned the right to vanity.”

  “My father is a wealthy Packmaster, and he doesn’t indulge in these kinds of extravagances. But the other packs in the territory still respect him.”

  Lorenzo slowly eased around the corner. “Your father is a Packmaster? That comes as a surprise.”

  I slanted my eyes toward his and something between us flickered for just a moment. “Do I seem meek to you? Because if that’s your impression, let me assure you that a quiet woman is neither weak nor inferior. I choose my words wisely.”

  “Are you are implying that I do not?”

  I touched the end of my long braid, which stretched down to my black skirt. There were quite a few flyaway hairs as I often kept it loosely bound.

  He chuckled to himself. “How did a woman like you end up in Austin’s pack?”

  “I was traded off because…”

  The car slowed to a stop at the red light. “Continue,” he pressed, turning his attention my way.

  I got butterflies and the hair on my arms stood up. Lorenzo captivated me with his Native American features—his strong nose, chiseled bone structure, and soft mouth. I was of mixed descent, so his skin tone was darker than mine—a warm shade of
golden brown that a woman couldn’t help but admire. I could hardly look upon him, his alpha power was that strong. And yet I didn’t want him to know the effect it had on me. Nor did I want to reveal the truth about how I’d ended up with the Weston pack.

  “I was nearing the time of change and had outgrown my father’s pack.”

  “No one would mate with you?”

  “You’re impossibly rude,” I said with a shake of my head.

  He lifted his chin and arched a single eyebrow. “Hardly rude. Aside from your insolence, I find it impossible to believe no male would mate with a wolf as fair as you.”

  The compliment hung in the air along with the insult, and I was uncertain of how to respond. His judgment was just as thick as the sweet words that rolled off his tongue. The true meaning behind spoken words was like Braille—not heard, but felt—and even a blind person could feel his intent.

  “I find it quite fascinating that a man with your influence and pleasant features hasn’t chosen a mate.”

  Lorenzo’s laugh warmed me like brandy. “Careful, female. That almost sounded like praise. Rumors spread fast, don’t they? People seem to enjoy a good gossip. If you want the truth, nashoba, there is no one woman who can fulfill all my needs. I require more than most men.”

  “It must be lonely.”

  “I have a few bitches who seek my company, but I keep my attention focused on strengthening my pack.”

  That left me with a curious thought that lingered in my mind. It wasn’t illegal for Packmasters to take on more than one mate if all parties agreed—it had simply become an old-fashioned practice, and most modern women didn’t like sharing. In earlier times—before Shifters had gained freedom—women had sought protection that only an alpha wolf could offer, so they were willing to make concessions. Some archaic customs remained among the older packs, but most Shifters were progressive thinkers. Why didn’t Lorenzo just mate with more than one woman? Packs respected a Packmaster who was mated over a man who chose to be alone. His philandering ways would cast a shadow on him as a leader. How could a pack put their faith and loyalty into a man who could not show commitment?

  “Lucky bitches,” I said facetiously.

  Lorenzo’s laugh became robust and endearing. “You are a willful female.”

  “Who is about to get sick in your car if you don’t stop hitting the gas so hard.”

  He eased up and I noticed a pack of cigarettes.

  “Can I have some gum?”

  He knitted his brows, glancing around the interior. “What makes you certain I have gum?”

  I pointed my finger at the pack. “A man with cigarettes always has gum. He thinks it will mask the stench on his breath. Mint would be great.”

  Lorenzo opened a compartment between the seats and handed me some strong mint gum. It tasted refreshing and made me temporarily forget about my stomach. I wanted to curl up in a ball and go to sleep. Maybe next time when I chose to support my Packmaster, I’d simply compliment his meal instead of actually eating it. Good thing he hadn’t ordered calamari or something repulsive.

  Lorenzo had a prominent Adam’s apple visible above the choker of beads he wore around his neck. And when he spoke, alpha power dripped from his words. “I don’t run across many Shifters who are loyal through and through. What you did back there ordering Cole’s dinner—clever girl.”

  “Loyalty comes in many forms,” I said, smacking my gum. “If I have to endure a bellyache to stand behind my Packmaster, then so be it.”

  “Perhaps karma is reprimanding you for making the wrong decision.”

  “No offense, Mr. Church, but your words belittled my Packmaster in front of his family. You were undermining his authority.”

  He pointed his finger and a smile touched his lips. “And yet you were the only one who ordered his plate.”

  “His brothers weren’t raised in a pack. I, however, understand the nuances of the hierarchy. Ohhh…”

  “What’s wrong?”

  I took my gum out of my mouth and held it between my fingers. “Are we there?” I asked in a breathy voice, reclining my head back. “I’m feeling unwell. I really don’t want to get sick in your car.”

  Lorenzo pinched the gum from my fingers and flicked it out his window. “We’re almost there. If you get sick in my car, I’ll have it cleaned. Nothing is irreplaceable.”

  I wondered if that’s how he felt about women, or even his own pack members.

  My stomach made a terrible sound that was so loud that it trumped the engine. My cheeks heated and I turned to look out the window. If my stomach didn’t kill me, embarrassment surely would.

  “Your body makes more noise than your mouth. I don’t think I’ve met a woman quite like you, Miss… I’m afraid we skipped introductions.”

  “Kizer. Ivy Kizer. And you’re Mr. Church.”

  “Call me Enzo.”

  I turned to look at him and his eyes fell to my lips. “It’s not respectful to address a Packmaster so informally.”

  He pinched his chin thoughtfully. “Only business associates call me Church.”

  “Then I’ll call you Lorenzo.”

  Lorenzo reached over and gently tugged the end of my braid. “Is something wrong with Enzo?”

  “Do you want to be compared to a flashy piece of machinery that’s fast, loud, and unattainable?”

  He put his hands back on the wheel and throttled the engine. “I can be compared to anything with stamina.”

  “Mechanical things require too much attention to keep going on their own. How much attention do you require?”

  “Sweet Ivy, what a wicked tongue you have.”

  “Perhaps I should call you Thunder Wolf since you rumble like thunder before a storm.” I pressed my lips together in frustration.

  With gentle ease, he tenderly brushed his knuckles across my cheek. “You are a wild little wolf. Take care not to bed with any of Austin’s brothers.”

  I shoved his hand away.

  “If you think I’m insulting you, then you’re wrong. The purity of your blood would be tainted by mating a wolf of their low caliber. You are a little snowflake drifting toward the muddy streets beneath the hooves of horses.”

  “I love horses,” I said, steering the subject away from the insults to my pack. “I used to ride them as a little girl. I always wanted one of my own.”

  “And your father—a prominent Packmaster—would not give you one?”

  Lorenzo’s car rolled up the gravel driveway to the Weston property. A couple of the men were standing on the porch up ahead, waiting for me.

  “After years of begging, my father finally gave in and gifted me a horse. She was a beautiful blue roan with the thickest black mane. I used to ride bareback across the property, holding on to her mane as she raced through the open field,” I said wistfully, gazing at the meadow in front of the Weston house. “That mare could race against the wind.”

  “Did you braid your hair back then?”

  I blinked, taken aback by his question. “No. That was before I began tying it up.”

  “Hmm,” he murmured, putting the car in park. “I would like to see it down the next time we meet.”

  “I don’t believe our paths will cross again.”

  A smile stretched across his face. “They have crossed three times. If a fourth comes around, I might call it fate.”

  “I think the fates simply have a sense of humor. Take care not to go out tonight. It’s a full moon.”

  “What happened to the horse? Did it run away, or did Cole not allow you to bring it with you?”

  I unbuckled my seat belt and opened the door. “No. My father shot her. Thank you, Lorenzo, for bringing me home safely. I’m grateful, even if I had to endure your insulting remarks.”

  “Likewise.” He tipped his head and then fixed his gaze on the house. “I hope we meet again, Ivy. Don’t get tangled up in any trouble.”

  ***

  I spent the rest of the afternoon in bed, recovering from my ailmen
t. Perhaps beef was not meant to be drowned in gravy. By early evening, I felt much better and changed into a white cotton dress. It had a long slit in the front that stopped above my knees, and I often wore it with a favorite pair of moccasin boots in the fall.

  The house seemed calm, and I quietly made my way into the hall, tugging at the sleeves of my dress as I descended the stairs.

  “What happened? It’s freezing in here,” I asked Lexi from the second landing on the stairs.

  She kicked the front door closed, holding a couple of logs. “A cold front blasted through about two hours ago. Didn’t you hear the wind beating up the house?”

  Lexi made a shivering sound and approached the fireplace across the room in front of the door. I tiptoed down the rest of the stairs and turned to face the living room. Normally the area in front of the fireplace was kept open, but Austin had moved some furniture around the hearth as he had done the previous winter.

  Jericho swaggered into the room from the back hall, wearing his leather jacket, no shirt, and the bear-claw necklace he rarely took off.

  “You must have a show tonight,” I said, noticing the thick liner smudged beneath his lashes.

  He glanced down at my feet and shook his head. “You can’t walk around barefoot. It’s fucking thirty degrees out there.”

  I laughed. “It’s not as if I’ll catch a cold.”

  “True that,” Denver said from a chair on the right. He stretched out his legs on the oversized rug, his toes squeezing at the fibers. Milk dribbled down his chin from the spoonful of cereal he was chomping on. “You might lose a toe, but then again, you’ve got nine more.”

  I folded my arms and made a deliberate assessment of Jericho’s wardrobe. “Denver has a point. If you’re going out like that, you might want to put on a bra. I may have ten toes, but you only have two nipples.”

  Denver sprayed milk into his bowl and stood up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he savored his laugh. A few drops had landed on his grey T-shirt. “Lynn’s in the kitchen cooking up a storm—I think I’ll go see what’s on the fire.”

  “Keep your fingers out of the bowls,” Lexi said over her shoulder. “You’re such a scavenger.”