by Holley Trent
Nixon nodded. “I bet she does. I’m sure my ma misses me a little, too.”
“Daddy was different.” Kevin stuck the tip of his tongue out of the side of his pressed lips and tapped away on his phone screen.
“Different?”
“Not the same kind of wolf.”
“Oh. That’s ’cause your old pack took in a bunch of wolves like your ma a long time ago.”
And then kicked out all our strong boys.
She’d missed her brother terribly growing up. She worried about him. Expelled wolves didn’t tend to last long on their own, but Anton had Uncle Adam with him and Aunt Lilith. They, of anyone, would have cared for him as if he were their own. In the end, he’d probably been better off than she’d been.
“Daddy said we were little mutts.”
Gods, Kevin. Esther didn’t bother giving him a pinch that time, because Kevin seemed to be intent on running his mouth to the stranger across from him no matter what she did, and she was too damned curious about how Nixon would react.
“Nothing wrong with being a mutt.” Nixon’s voice was more growl than bass. Annoyed, but not at Kevin.
He was looking at Esther as if he were expecting her to say something in rebuttal.
She had no words, and no desire to rebut, because she agreed with him. There was nothing wrong with the way her children were. She and Michael had fought numerous times over that very issue, and a couple of times, she’d actually gotten pissed enough to win. Normally, she might have gotten punished good for daring to lay a hand on her husband, but Michael had likely been too ashamed to report her to the alpha. He’d picked fights and lost them to an angry, shrieking woman.
Fortunately, she didn’t have to say anything because the waitress returned with their drinks and pulled Nixon’s intimidating stare away from Esther.
“Brought you some water, too. Just in case.”
“Thank you,” Esther said quietly. “I underestimated how dry the air would be here. I’ve got a bit of a headache.”
“I’m sure that’s not the only reason you have one,” Nixon said.
“Too many reasons to count.”
The waitress padded away again, greeting some probably familiar patrons at the door.
Nixon pulled his phone out of his shirt pocket pointed the camera at her. “You mind?”
“You already took my picture.”
“Not yours. Although your aunt told me to buzz off for a little while, now she’s telling me that she wants me to send her pictures of the kids, as well as—” He squinted at the screen and worked the pad of his thumb across the bottom. “Oh. Needs to know their sizes. I think she’s rounding up stuff.”
Esther let out a dry laugh and tore the paper cover off Darla’s water straw. “I don’t remember her being so efficient, but I guess I was too young when she and Uncle Adam left.”
“Every time I’ve seen her, I always thought she was the one holding the whole crew together. Adam might be the alpha, but Lil’s the thinker.”
“Sounds like you know my family better than I do.”
He shrugged. Snapped a picture of Darla, then Kevin, and then grunted and mumbled something about bad focus. “Adam tried to adopt me into his bunch a few times throughout the years. Every time he ran into me someplace, he’d ask me if I was sure I didn’t want to join up. He’d started with just the two, right? Vic and Anton. He picked up Darius after he got thrown out of his pack because D’s momma gave Adam the heads-up that he was out in the wild somewhere. Took a while for Adam and them to catch up to him. They call Darius ‘Loner’ for a reason. He’s hard to find once he gets outside.”
“Darius,” she whispered. She was going to have to remember those new names, and fast, so she didn’t offend them. Vic and Anton she knew, of course, but the others… They were wildcards.
“Yep. And then there was Colt. Just the six of them for all those years they were on the road. They’ve picked up a few more strays since then—now that they’ve settled down.”
“Who are the others?”
“You’ll have plenty of time to meet them. Every one of them except Jim has a mate now, so you’ll have lots of new wolves to meet.”
Jim? And all those mates.
So many people, but there were women in Norseton, which meant people for her to take refuge with if she needed to.
“How come you didn’t want to go with them?” Kevin asked.
Esther nudged his knee under the table, and the kid furrowed his brow and scowled at her. “What?”
“That’s a good question,” Nixon said. “Couple of reasons. For one thing, I was a little older than the other guys. I’m not sure who’s older—Anton or Vic—but I’ve got both by a couple—okay, quite a few years. I was already in a different place, lifestyle-wise, when Adam caught up to me the first time. I was lucky. I was always able to find a job of some kind. Worked on oilrigs and ranches. Mostly ranches. Easier to live in a place like that when you have to shift for the full moon and run off to where folks can’t see you.”
“How come you’re going to Adam now?” Kevin asked.
Esther fixed her gaze on the ceiling and pleaded for the goddess to intervene regarding Kevin’s loose lips.
“Wolves need packs,” Nixon said, his curious amber gaze pinned on Esther’s face when she made the mistake of looking forward again. “After a while, they feel the urge to go home. I haven’t had one in a long time.”
“Everyone should have a home,” she said quietly.
“The home itself ain’t good enough. Need more than that.”
“What more is there?”
“How ’bout safety? Is that important?”
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“On whose.”
“Everyone’s, honey.”
“That’s not the way things work,” she said. “The alpha does everything in his power to keep the pack protected from outsiders. He does what he must to preserve the status quo.”
“That’s important, but that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about individual safety.”
“An alpha doesn’t care about individuals unless they can do something for him.”
“I guess you don’t know your uncle very well, then. I’d bet you a stack of pancakes he’s more alpha than your alpha, Madeira, ever was. Adam cares approximately equally about every single person in the pack.”
“Approximately?”
“Gotta cut the guy some slack. Obviously, he’s gonna have a special place in heart for his family. But Adam tries to do right by everyone. He doesn’t let the sh—” Nixon clamped his lips and looked at Kevin, then Darla, both of whom were watching him intently. “Uh. Stuff. He doesn’t let that stuff that goes on in the old packs fly in Norseton. Different kind of pack there. Doesn’t have a choice, really.”
“Why not?”
The waitress slipped plates in front of the kids.
Esther assumed Nixon would give up his line of questioning, but when the waitress left to get the rest of the plates, he said, “You’ll find out when you get there. You’ll see for yourself.”
She’d been about to mouth off about being unable to take men’s words for things, but apparently the goddess interceded and slapped Esther’s verbal filter into place before she could speak.
Nixon had been unbelievably tolerant up to that point, but she didn’t doubt for one moment that he’d snap just like all the others when he’d had enough.
His hand came up, and she flinched before realizing he’d just held his phone out to her.
“It’s all right, honey,” he whispered. “I ain’t that kind of wolf.”
She swallowed, and rolled her gaze down to the silver-toned device.
“Tell her their sizes, okay? I’m not so good at guessing that kind of stuff, and she keeps asking.”
She blinked and slowly, gingerly took the phone, being very careful not to graze his fingers. Her husband may have been gone, but old habits would take time to break. She couldn�
�t let a man who wasn’t her husband touch her. Wolves were serious about their scandals and vendettas.
She set the phone on the placemat in front of her and scrolled up to the beginning of the thread, read her aunt’s words, and saw the little avatar attached to her name.
Instinctively, Esther tapped the picture because she had to see—had to be sure the woman was as familiar to Esther as Esther was to her.
Her throat constricted and a whine squeezed through it unbidden. She couldn’t blink fast enough to push back her tears.
“What’s wrong, Mommy?” Darla asked.
“Nothing’s wrong, honey.” Nixon leaned back and let the waitress deposit his meal in front of him. “She’s just feelin’ a little silly right now from being so tired. Your momma needs a nap.”
Esther swiped her tears away and moved the phone so the waitress could set down the bowl of soup.
“Do you need a nap, Mommy?”
“Yes, baby, I need a nap.”
She tapped in the clothing sizes for Aunt Lilith and slid the phone across the table to its owner. “Thank you.”
“No sweat. Maybe she’ll stop fretting for a little while, but I doubt it. Lil frets about everything. Nonstop.”
Esther broke a saltine into her soup and picked up her spoon. “Who—whose babies are those she’s holding? In the picture, I mean. I didn’t mean to snoop, but—”
“Don’t worry. Photo was right there, right? Not like you went digging. And I don’t know which one’s which ’cause they’re about the same age, and they look so damned much alike. One’s Adam and the other’s Cecily. Adam is Vic’s son. Cecily’s Anton’s daughter.”
“Anton had a baby?”
“You didn’t hear, I take it?”
Esther’s eyes started to burn again, and she didn’t bother trying to stem off the flow of tears. She had to believe that anyone would have been overwhelmed. Her brother had a baby and she hadn’t heard.
But then again, he probably hasn’t heard much about me, either.
“Your sandwich looks good,” Nixon said.
“Pardon?” Esther swiped the sleeve of her sweater across her eyes.
Nixon grunted and pointed with a potato chip toward her BLT. “Lot of bacon on that plate.”
She finally looked down at the sandwich. There had to be at least six half strips of bacon between the lettuce and tomato. “Here.” She slid the plate across the table toward him.
“I don’t want your sandwich.”
“I thought—”
“No. I was just admiring your bacon. If I want another sandwich, I’ll order one.”
“That’s not what I’m used to.”
“Yeah, I’m gettin’ that. I’d tell you to just be cool and pretend that everything’s normal, but you don’t know what that means, do you?”
“I don’t know how any wolf can.”
“You’ll find out soon enough. Like I told you, you’ll see when you get to Norseton.” He took a bite of his cheeseburger and waggled his eyebrows comically at Darla, who wouldn’t stop giggling.
Esther couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard her baby girl giggle.
Such a normal sound for a three-year-old, and Esther couldn’t pinpoint when she’d last heard it.
Further, a man had made the girl laugh. A wolf male. Wolf men distanced themselves from the children in their packs as a matter of principle. And yet there was a man sitting across from her who was not only being tolerant of Esther’s children, but kind to them.
No wonder he got booted from his pack. He’s an aberration. Just like Anton and Vic and Uncle Adam.
She had no idea what that meant, but she was going to try to be optimistic for a change. At least for a little while. She had no way of knowing what would happen when everyone found out how Michael had died, though. They might not want her around, and if they sent her away, she’d have no place to go but back to Jersey. If she were lucky, her old alpha would accept her back into the fold without punishing her for having left.
Kindness, though? She knew better than to expect that.
CHAPTER FOUR
Nixon didn’t force conversation during the drive through the stark desert landscape toward Norseton. No matter how badly he wanted to hear Esther talk—wanted to ask her questions about herself and what she’d been through—she was already agitated enough. He couldn’t blame her for her skittishness, given what she’d likely been through, and the fact she was that way at all made him so fucking angry.
She leaned as far away from him as he could—right up against the damned door—as if she were somehow invading his space from all the way on the other side of the F250, when in truth, he wouldn’t have minded if she got a little closer. Even if she did smell like she’d had some other wolf’s bite.
The kids slept, mouths open and snoring softly.
Esther struggled to keep her eyes open. She kept startling herself awake and pulling Nixon’s gaze away from the road with each jerk and gasp.
He wanted to tell her to go on and sleep, but he knew she wouldn’t. Not when she had her kids to watch. While Nixon might have considered himself to be on Team Good Guys, she didn’t know him from a hole in the wall, and he sure as shit didn’t fault her for being cautious. She was doing what any decent mother would do, and he suspected she was a little more than just decent.
He kept his words at bay, and turned the radio volume high enough to discourage casual conversation, but low enough not to wake the kids, feeling an unusual emptiness the rest of the drive. Not saying anything didn’t feel natural. He wanted to talk—to connect. He’d never felt that way before. Chitchatting wasn’t one of his hobbies.
He carefully checked the GPS readout on his phone and let out a quiet grunt upon seeing that he’d lost any sort of data connection. He had no way of knowing when the feed had shut off. The phone was giving him its best possible guess as to their location based on the last time it’d been able to pull data. If he was lucky, he hadn’t missed any turns.
“How the hell does anyone get a cellular signal out here?” he muttered.
“They have to somehow,” Esther said quietly. “Maybe they use a different carrier.”
“Could be. Can’t imagine who’d have towers out here in the middle of nowhere, though.”
The phone must not have been too far off in its five-minute-from-arrival projection, though, as they zipped past a sign on the right reading Norseton, 2 mi.
“The place isn’t even on the damn GPS.”
“Maybe it’s not really incorporated. You don’t need to be incorporated to have a zip code.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
He caught her shaking her head in his periphery.
“Just a guess,” she said. “I haven’t done much traveling, so I’m not the right person to ask about this sort of stuff. I’d never left New Jersey before this week. I just—read a lot.”
“About what?” Nixon kept his gaze on the road, scanning ahead for the turnoff. The landscape was flat enough that he should have been able to see an intersection coming from at least a mile away.
“Um. Local histories, mostly. Small towns that don’t exist anymore.”
“How’d you get interested in those?”
“Because no one would give me the answers I needed when I asked questions.”
“You were asking about defunct small towns?”
“No, about where all the wolves went when they came to this country. Everyone’s always so coy about where the others packs are, and I’ve never understood why.”
“Wolves are territorial. Most alphas would prefer folks didn’t know specifically where their packs are based.”
“But, our wolves—I mean, my kind of wolf, we weren’t really like that. When we came here, there were so few of us.”
“Ten families is the lore I heard.”
“Right. Ten. We got split up early on. Some ended up in New Jersey. Some in—the mountains of Georgia?”
“Yeah. I think that’s w
here Darius came from. Not sure about Colt.”
Nixon could barely see the small adobe structure through the dust kicked up by the wind—there was a storm coming for sure—but he slowed the truck in time to make a right turn onto a gated road.
He pulled up next to the gatehouse and motored down his window as one of the rejected devils—Colt—walked out of the building.
Colt put a cell phone to his ear and leaned against the windowsill. “Hey, Alpha. Nixon’s here. Want to let the missus know?”
Nixon glanced rightward and caught Esther wringing her hands and staring down at her shaking knees.
“Hey, it’s all right. They’re not gonna let nothin’ happen to you.”
“I don’t think they would. It’s just—”
Colt pulled the phone away from the ear and scanned into the truck’s backseat. “Out cold?”
“Been asleep pretty much since we left Albuquerque,” Nixon said.
Colt bobbed his blond brows and drummed softly on the side of the door. “There’s a betting pool on when they’ll wake up. It wasn’t supposed to start until they got situated, though. Chances are very slim they’re going to get out of this truck without assistance.”
Esther tightened her fingers over her knees, which had started shaking harder.
Nixon reached over to give her shoulder a squeeze, but thought better of doing so at the last second. He’d learned as a kid that touching live wires was hazardous to his health.
“He doesn’t mean anything by the joke,” he said. “You’ve been around different kinds of wolves for so long, you probably don’t know all the stuff your own kind does. Y’all are damn near comatose when you’re recuperating. Your little sprouts probably haven’t fallen into that kind of sleep before now.”
“They’re only half Eurasian wolf.”
“Our species is dominant,” Colt said softly. “If they’re anything like Adam and Cecily, anyway.”
She cut her gaze slightly toward Colt. “Their mothers aren’t—”
“Nah. You and Mrs. Carbone are the outliers.”
“Oh.” She furrowed her brow and stared through the windshield.
“Anton wanted to be at the gatehouse when you got here, but Alpha thought it wouldn’t be a good idea to have you both in the same place at once until you’re settled in.”
