Tempering Steel

by Lea Barrymire

  His chin rubbed across the top of her head. “I know.”

  Margie clung to him. Feeling better for breaking down, drained of emotions, she could put a little perspective into her thoughts. She needed a shower and some food before she’d feel normal again. “I really do thank you. I don’t ever cry, and definitely not in front of anyone.”

  A dark chuckle vibrated against her cheek. “I figured that you needed me.”

  She had. More than she’d probably ever admit to.

  After a few more quiet moments absorbing the comfort he gave and breathing in his warmth, a thought tickled the back of her mind. “You said you were heading to the woods for evidence.”

  “Yeah.”

  She waited for him to continue. After a few heartbeats, she pushed. “And? What are you looking for? I thought Skip and Zeke had combed the area before bringing Libby here.”

  And just like that the emotional woman was gone, replaced by the analytical Margie. The one who liked a mystery and was snarky in the face of all types of adversity. She liked this version of herself. The softer side was harder for her to deal with. Emotions usually meant weakness, and she despised looking weak.

  Connor seemed to sense the change as well. He loosened his arms enough that she could pull away without it seeming as if she were running. Concern still crinkled his brows, but even he put his sheriff face on, giving her the space she needed to get a grip on her inner turmoil.

  “Let me run and clean up, you need to change your shirt, and then I’ll go with you.”

  He finally looked down and laughed. “Yeah, I think I have a tee in my truck.”

  Margie leaned in quickly and pulled his mouth to hers. The kiss was sweet and quick, a thank you and an apology wrapped into a sweep of lips against lips. Before he could react or deepen, it she backed away, flashed what she hoped looked like a normal smile and turned to rush toward the bathroom.

  “Bubblegum?” Margie stood over the piece of chewed evidence and pondered its importance. Both Zeke and Connor agreed, it had been spat out after the trap it rested near had been set. Which meant the perpetrator, the asshole harming her friends, had probably been the one to deposit the pink blob on the leaf-strewn ground. “Who in their right mind chews bubblegum nowadays? I mean, that’s the crappy no-taste-after-two-seconds type too. It was gross when I was seven. You couldn’t pay me enough to chew that stuff now.”

  The three of them had headed into the woods shortly after Margie had exited the ladies’ room. She’d taken time to clean her face and press cold paper towels to her eyes in hopes of reducing the swelling, but it hadn’t mattered. She obviously hadn’t been the only person affected, going by the number of reddened eyes and swollen noses.

  Connor squatted and collected the gum in a plastic baggy while Zeke looked around the area. Even he’d been uncharacteristically quiet. Each time either of the men had caught sight or sniff of something odd, they’d conversed over it, taking time to examine a branch of indention in the dirt until they were both satisfied about their conclusions. Margie’s job seemed to be to take photos and wander behind them making observations.

  “Hey. Look at this.” Zeke’s voice shot through the silence and made her jump. “I think I found a footprint.”

  Rushing to where the coyote stood pointing to a small dirt patch, Margie watched Connor’s face. He’d gotten to the other man before she had, and the look of concentration turned quickly to one of incredulity.

  “What?” She nearly stumbled over a root in her haste. “What is it?”

  “It’s a shoe print for sure. A very small one.”

  Zeke growled in his chest. “That little fucker.”

  She huffed. “Who? What?”

  Skidding to a halt next to the men, she looked down at the earth and could barely make out the indention they were glaring at. She couldn’t see anything extraordinary about it, but the width did look to be on the narrow side for a male shoe. Squatting gave her a little better look. It actually seemed to be really narrow, and the print, if she was seeing the whole thing, was small. Like a child’s, but that didn’t—

  “Oh my God,” she gasped. Her next thought was whispered in horror. “Corey.”

  An image of the blond-haired ten-year-old flashed through her mind. No. He couldn’t be responsible for this. He was just a little kid, lost and despondent after being tossed aside by his drugged-out parents. He’d been terrified of everything. There was no way he’d be wandering through the woods alone.

  “He must have been out here with someone. Maybe Ian brought him out for some training or something and they happened to wander really close to this trap.” She looked at Connor and knew she was looking for some sort of confirmation, some sense that he believed her doubts. What she saw made her heart sink. “No. There’s no way a ten-year-old would do this.”

  “Maybe not intentionally. I’m not jumping to conclusions, but I’ll be having a conversation with him shortly. If he has been out here with someone, I’d bet ’they’ve been setting these traps.”

  “Fuck. This is going to kill the Cartridges. They’ve been putting so much time into that kid.” Zeke’s voice was quiet but still full of enough anger that Margie wanted to step away from him.

  “Don’t jump to conclusions. It could have been another kid or a small female, I don’t want either of you running off with your theories until we’ve determined it was Corey. Understood?” Connor stared at them until Zeke nodded and Margie gave a shrug and nod. “Good. Now grab a photo of this. See if you can’t get a good angle so the shadows deepen in the grooves. I’ve got the gum. We’ll use the two of them to ask some questions.”

  As a group, they headed back toward the barn. The location for this set of traps—and the first, if she thought about it—was only a stone’s throw from civilized lawn. It’d taken them longer to walk to Jason’s location only because they hadn’t known where he was trapped, but it’d been an easy fifteen-minute hike into the forest from Billy’s property.

  Had the kid been coerced into walking around in the woods? Or was Connor right and the print didn’t even belong to him? Who else lived around the area with such small feet? Or the better question was, who would have access to Skip’s property, a shifter and Alpha? Someone who had small feet and would’ve been allowed in the woods by themselves? Had to be a packmate, which narrowed the list of suspects down tremendously.

  Margie still held out hope that Ian or someone had been working with the cubs and they’d happened to pass right by the traps without setting them off or noticing them. A scary thought, but still better than one of their own setting traps near pack lands. Traps powerful enough to harm any shifter who came in contact with them.

  “I want to go with you when you talk to Corey.” Her thought was past her lips before she even knew she’d had it. “I mean, if I can.”

  *****

  Of course she’d want to. Connor sighed. Because this would be viewed as pack business, he could bend the rules a little, but having her there might be problematic if the kid admitted to setting the traps.

  What in the hell would drive a ten-year-old to something like that? He’d have to know the possibility of catching a shifter would be high, but then again Corey was only ten. Perhaps logical thought wasn’t something he possessed yet.

  “I don’t know, Margie. I think it’s going to be up to Skip and the Cartridges.”

  She nodded. He’d expected her to fight him more, but perhaps she was just as heartsick over the idea they’d formed as he was. Living in Coyote Bluff had kept him from dealing with many of the gory crimes of a city. Shit, covering the few towns in his area kept him busy with traffic violations, farming accidents and the occasional teenage prank. Murders and violent crime didn’t happen in his little slice of Virginia.

  The three of them walked the rest of the way locked in their own thoughts. The barn came into view much sooner than he thought it would, but again the distance hadn’t been that far. From the number of vehicles parked on the grave
l, it looked as if most of the shifters in town had heard about Libby and had arrived. Connor nearly stumbled when he noticed the Cartridges’ car in the lot.

  “Perhaps you’ll get your wish, Margie. It looks like Becky and Tim are here already.” This could be really bad. He wanted to snag Skip before all hell broke loose. “Look. Don’t say anything yet. I want Skip to decide how to proceed. Zeke, that means you keep your anger in check.”

  The other man nodded curtly and sprinted toward the house. Good. If he was there instead of inside the barn, perhaps the entire situation could be kept calm and rational. A glance at Margie told Connor all he needed to know about her thought process. “You will not confront him, and you will not try to get information from anyone about anything. Do you hear me? You can’t fly off the handle and accuse a kid of something like this with nothing to go on but a faint print in the dirt.”

  She scoffed. “Like I would do that. I’m going to check on Libby and see if she’s coming out of sedation yet. I’d like to see her shift as soon as possible.” Her brows furrowed. “And at some point I’d love to know why you as a group can’t shift into your human side if you’re hurt. I mean, that seems counterintuitive for a species. If you have the ability to change shape, wouldn’t it be more useful when you’re injured?”

  He wanted to laugh but he held it in. They’d be walking into a very sobering experience, or at least he assumed so. Going into the building with laughter on his lips wouldn’t help anyone. Instead of chuckling at her mental gymnastics, he looped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her in to his side. Kissing the top of her head gave him a moment to bring his thoughts together. “I need you to be observant when we go in there. Keep your eyes open and your ears trained on all comments. I’m not convinced at all that we’ve found our culprit, but I am sure whoever is setting these traps is a shifter and has had access to this property recently. If we have someone in our ranks who is working against Skip or is out to get one of us, we need to know.”

  She looked as if she was going to argue with him. Placing a fingertip lightly against her lips brought a flush of heat to her cheeks. He smiled and bent down to give her a light kiss on one of those bright-red cheeks. “You are one of the most observant people I know. Use that talent for me, please.”

  Flustered looked good on his Margie. Her hands came up to cup her cheek where he’d kissed her, eyes wide and a slight smile on her face. Slowly her eyes rose to meet his and she nodded.

  He didn’t think he’d have too long without the spunky, fast-witted Margie breaking through. But if she’d remember to keep her eyes trained on their surroundings, perhaps they’d figure out what had really happened. Then? Then he was going to spirit her away to his house or hers and spend some quality time learning her every hair and freckle. This hadn’t been the start to a relationship he’d hoped to have with her. He’d been looking forward to dinners out and long walks in the woods. They’d had the walks, but each one had ended at a trail of blood or pain. Even for someone as eccentric as Margie, that wasn’t the ideal way to woo her.

  Connor took her small hand in his and threaded their fingers together. The charge in their touch had the hairs on his arm standing up, and his coyote yipped in his mind. They had unfinished business and he meant to make her his the first moment he could.

  “Come on. Let’s get this over with. Then I’m taking you home and cooking you dinner. Maybe with a liberal application of wine and good food, we can put this whole damn day behind us.”

  She laughed, shooting him a grin before squeezing his hand. “If you add some ice cream for dessert and a liberal amount of naked Connor to the deal, I’m sure I can forget the whole damn week.”

  He gave her a quick kiss on the nose. “Deal.”

  They walked hand in hand to the back door of the barn. The moment he stepped up to lead them inside, he cursed. Growls, low and deep, vibrated the air. Whipping a look at Margie told him she hadn’t heard it, but she was watching him intently. “Shit has hit the fan while we’ve been out here. Sounds like someone’s not a happy animal.”

  “Doesn’t it always happen that way for us? I mean, come on. We had to have Zeke shot before you even wanted to date me, right? If we want to be mated, I guess it needs to be something close to a war in there. Right?”

  He didn’t have a way to answer that other than to nod and sigh. “Your mind works in mysterious ways. Let’s hope this doesn’t screw up our evening. I was looking forward to seeing you naked again.”

  She gave him a cheeky grin. “I was looking forward to licking ice cream off your naked chest, so yeah. Let’s keep our fingers crossed, shall we?”

  “Can you not say things like that? I hate walking into potential danger with a hard-on. Makes running a tad painful.”

  She laughed and tossed her hair away from her face, a crazy light entering her eye. “Let’s do this thing. I feel like kicking someone’s ass.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  She’d expected to find Libby a bit growly and having a tough time fighting off the sedative. That was not the scene Connor and Margie walked into. Instead a very large and pissed-off wolf was standing over what looked like a curled-up cougar.

  Margie looked closer, squinting to try to focus on just the golden-furred body under an enraged Jason. She gasped.

  “Fuck, that’s Libby he’s standing over.”

  Connor’s exclamation closely mirrored her own thoughts. She raced to comprehend what she was seeing. Skip stood big and imposing in front of the two animals, hands out in an imploring manor. Behind him stood a mass of people, all in different phases of fear or concern. Rebecca and Tim Cartridge stood together against one of the walls, Rebecca’s hand over her mouth and eyes wide. Chuck’s lips twisted in a silent snarl as he stared at the black wolf hovering over Libby’s animal. His shoulders were bunched as he readied himself to either attack or defend his Alpha. Pete Marrow hung close to Skip as well, his looks so similar to his brother Zeke’s but with a few more years aging him.

  “Margie, do you have your bag with you?” Skip’s whisper jerked her gaze back to him. He was still looking at Jason’s wolf, watching the animal with a calm resolve.

  “In the truck.”

  “Can you get it, please? We need the darts.”

  “Can’t they hear us whispering?” She didn’t want Jason attacking anyone because she showed back up in the situation with a gun.

  Connor’s chest pressed against her back and he breathed his words into her ear. “Probably, but he’s nearly gone feral. We need to get him away from Libby and Skip before he’ll have to be put down instead of just to sleep.”

  Nodding numbly, Margie turned and sprinted out the door. As she raced around the outside of the barn, her mind sped as well. Jason had been fine in the morning. Joking and almost fitting in with the rest of the pack. He hadn’t shown a single ounce of anger or rage, and definitely hadn’t demonstrated any level of unbalance in his mental state. The question, then, was what had happened in the last hour to drive the man to shift and turn menacing toward the Alpha? Was he threatening or guarding Libby?

  She threw the truck door open and grabbed her medical bag. With it open on the front seat, she dug through the contents, finding the dart gun and four pre-made sedative darts. Shoving the gun into her pocket, she grabbed her bag, slammed the door shut and headed toward the back of the barn again.

  “Hey, what the hell is going on?”

  “Zeke, I don’t have time right now. There’s a problem inside and it looks like I’ll be shooting Jason again.”

  “Fuck. What? Wait.” The man raced behind her until he’d caught up. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. Jason is in wolf form and standing over Libby. She’s terrified, Skip looks calm but concerned, and your brother is standing behind the Alpha ready to take on a pissed wolf.”

  “What? Pete’s here? And he’s getting to fight? Why do I always miss the fun?”

  She stopped, swung around and nailed the stupid man w
ith her bag. “What is wrong with all of you? There’s a terrorized woman in there, stuck in her animal form, being growled over, and you’re worried about the fact your brother gets to fight before you? Really?”

  With her piece said, Margie raced toward the door, breathing heavily and slinging her bag over her shoulder. Just before she reached the knob, she dropped her equipment, grabbed the four darts and took a deep breath. Shaking fingers made loading the first dart into the pistol difficult, but she used the process to center herself. Checking the compressed air cylinder to verify it had enough pressure to fire two darts, she closed her eyes for an instant. Calm. Breathe. Two heartbeats later she was better.

  “What are you doing?”

  “God damn it, Zeke.” She’d jumped at his quiet question. “I’m slowing my heart rate down and trying to calm down a little.”

  “Oh.”

  His contrite answer had her opening her eyes and staring at the big goof. “What?”

  “I was going to see if you’d let me do the shooting, at least at Jason, but I’m sure you wouldn’t let me.”

  Laughter barked into the quiet. “What? Are you insane? Wait, don’t answer that. When this is all done, you and I are going to have a talk about being an adult.”

  “Nah, I’m good. Being an adult is highly overrated.” He grinned at her. Then he sobered. “You going to be okay? I know you kick ass, but I don’t want to see you get hurt. You’re one of my favorite humans.”

  She shook her head, chuckled and opened the door. “I’m good. Thanks for being a crazy.”

  Tension poured from the doorway like a mist. Stepping into the building took more courage than she’d thought it would, but knowing the situation could get very ugly seemed to push her forward. At least nobody seemed to have moved. Jason still stood over a shaking Libby. Skip was standing, feet apart, calm and collected. Connor had moved closer to his Alpha and Pete. Margie wished he’d stayed by the door to direct her, but then again it might be easier if Jason was forced to concentrate on the three big shifters.