by Tasha Black
Crossing Yale and passing the construction site, he mourned that he would never finish excavating. Never see the Inn and the bookstore rise to fill the holes. Never bring in the highway, after all, and see himself and his men change the history of a place.
He turned and entered the college woods to take the path that led him home.
The sudden darkness spooked him a little for the first time in his life. Erik had grown up in these woods. But now he knew there were more things in the woods than he had ever dreamt of. And he was no longer one of them.
That brought him back to thoughts of Ainsley. In the pain of losing his wolf he had made a fatal error.
He had failed to impress on her the danger of being alone with someone after her. The lone wolf she’d bested tonight was child’s play compered to whoever set the trap that had robbed him of part of himself.
Julian had been at the house today to protect it. She would be safe there.
Torn, Erik paused under one of the globe lamps on the edge of campus before the path went fully into the trees.
At length, he sighed, and plucked his cell phone out of his pocket and began to type.
Ainsley, whatever you do, don’t leave the house alone. Don’t forget that someone wanted to take your wolf. Call Julian, call Grace, call someone, but don’t leave the house alone.
He turned his phone off before she could respond.
When he came out of the trees, he could see Ophelia silhouetted in the porch light. She was pacing and talking on the phone. Perfect.
He climbed the front steps, nodded at her, and ran upstairs.
His old duffel bag was in the closet. He threw a couple of changes of clothes into it, then took it in the bathroom and swept the items on the sink top into it, then headed back down the stairs.
The only way to keep Ainsley out of trouble with Ophelia, and to avoid sleeping with her, was to get out of town tonight. If he was lucky, he’d be gone before she got off the phone.
He wasn’t lucky.
“Erik,” she said brightly, nostrils flared.
Fuck. She would know he had been with Ainsley.
She circled him slowly.
“Where do you think you’re going?” she purred.
“Ainsley sent me away,” he tried to look ashamed.
“Why would she do that?”
“She told me I had to leave first thing tomorrow. And then… I tried to convince her not to make me go…”
“And then what?”
“And then she told me I’d better get my ass on the road tonight.”
Ophelia laughed, it was a cold, glittery sound, like broken glass on a dance floor. She leaned in slightly to sniff him.
“It’s too bad your pleas weren’t convincing. Would you like to try to convince me instead?”
“I, uh, I’d better do what Ainsley said. I don’t know what she’ll do if I’m still here in the morning.”
She laughed again and grabbed his ass, hard, sinking her fingernails in.
“I’m starting to think Ainsley and I have a lot in common. Go on then, I won’t stop you.”
He strode away quickly. The shattering sound of her laughter accompanied his exit.
Chapter 21
Grace cut through the dimly lit park to approach the Rustic Kitchen without being seen.
The triangle shaped field had a fancy name now, but when Grace and Ainsley were kids it was simply known as Triangle Park. The only thing in it was a bench. Otherwise, it was all open space with trees along the perimeter. The rare open area without trees made it the best place in town to fly homemade kites.
Surrounding the park were some of the oldest homes in Tarker’s Hollow. A retired professional ballerina lived in one of the old stucco center halls. Elizabeth Stile was one of the town’s mini-celebrities. The windows of her house glowed tonight, and Grace looked over, wondering if she would catch a glimpse of the elegant dancer.
Silhouetted in the glow of the lights, a very familiar form traversed the sidewalk toward the Rustic Kitchen.
Grace caught her breath.
Julian.
She had been picturing him so often lately, it was almost strange to see the real man. His blond hair glinted in the light from Elizabeth’s windows and Grace was nearly hypnotized.
Then the significance of his presence hit her.
No. It couldn’t be.
In spite of the feelings he brought out in Grace, she still didn’t really like him. But he was Ainsley’s friend. Ainsley trusted him. It wasn’t possible that he was wrapped up in something awful. Was it?
Grace drew back into the shadows and counted slowly to one hundred. She couldn’t risk him seeing her. But she didn’t want to miss the meeting either.
She peeked through the dogwoods and there was no sign of Julian, so she stepped out of the park and slipped across the street to the Rustic Kitchen.
She chose to enter on the side the kitchen staff used to use to bring supplies in and out. It was surrounded by large rhododendrons which could mask her exit. She held still behind the bushes for a moment but couldn’t hear anything inside. Whoever Julian was meeting they must be out in the dining room.
Grace stepped into the open door. The stainless steel appliances in the kitchen had survived the fire, but were painted with soot. The whole place still smelled smoky.
Suddenly, she heard voices. And they were close. How had she not heard them before? She ducked quickly into the alcove formed between the gigantic freezer and the backdoor, trying not to breathe.
The voices were in the kitchen now, both male, one must be Julian. The other was deep and gruff and somehow familiar. She closed her eyes to listen, but couldn’t quite place it.
They were having a heated conversation but she couldn’t make it out with the odd acoustics of the place. Everything echoed.
The men took a few more steps into the kitchen and Grace felt sweat form on her brow. They were just on the other side of the freezer.
“We can’t wait any longer. We need to get the Connor girl out of the picture.”
“Everything is under control,” said the deep voice.
“That’s what you told us about her dad. His loss was supposed to be the end of this pack.”
Was Julian a part of that?
“How was I supposed to know she would come back?” the deep voice complained.
“And then you tell us you’ll have the new alpha under your control. What happened to that? How did an untrained little girl defeat your champion?”
“She proved to be more than we bargained for,” said the deeper voice.
“Excuses. This is why they had to send me. To get some results.”
“Like you did with the old lady?” the deep voice asked with barely masked satisfaction.
Grace’s heart wrenched in her chest. Could that be true?
“That was unfortunate, I admit. But not tragic. Once the girl is out of the picture, we will have the time we need to find the key.”
Key? What key?
“She is not alone. She has allies,” the deep voice continued.
“No one of consequence.”
“What about the cop?” the deep voice demanded.
“She’s nothing but a two-bit palm reader. Trust me. I’ve fooled her every time we’ve met.”
Son of a bitch.
She’d like to see him trying to magic his way out of prison for that comment alone - let alone what he’d done to Sadie.
“Well, tonight’s the night. Let’s go deal with the alpha.”
Footsteps told her that one of them was heading her way.
No, no, no. They must be planning to leave through the door she was crouching in front of.
Grace craned her neck, looking for anyplace to hide. But she was literally backed into a corner.
Her hand moved to the holster on her back. She had heard enough to make an arrest, but what if they didn’t come peacefully?
She took a deep breath and wrapped her fingers around the c
ool plastic of her taser. At least she still had the element of surprise.
A familiar sound accompanied the footsteps.
Tap, tap, tap.
What was that?
Before Grace could put the pieces together, a blanket of darkness enveloped her and a firm hand locked onto her mouth from behind, pulling her silently through the door and into the night.
Chapter 22
Ainsley stepped out of the hot shower, feeling decidedly less invigorated than she normally would after letting the steaming water pound away at her.
She slipped into her favorite night shirt and a pair of boy shorts with lace edges, then wrapped her fluffy robe around herself and made her way down to the kitchen.
When the kettle was boiling away merrily, she reached for her phone on the table. She had a message.
Erik.
Ainsley, whatever you do, don’t leave the house alone. Don’t forget that someone wanted to take your wolf. Call Julian, call Grace, call someone, but don’t leave the house alone.
Good god, with everything else going on she had almost forgotten.
I won’t. How did it go with MacGregor? she replied.
She waited a moment but there was no response. He must still be with MacGregor now. That was a good sign.
But why did everything feel so wrong?
She pulled the mug she’d made in senior pottery class out of the cupboard and stuck a peppermint tea bag in it.
When the boiling water hit the cup and steam rose to greet her nose, she felt a tiny bit more like Ainsley. Determined not to sit around feeling sorry for herself, she sat down at the table and slid a piece of paper and pen in front of her.
Placing the mug on the ring that had formed on the table after many other cups of tea, Ainsley exhaled with purpose and began to write.
I am grateful for a mate who loves me even in trying times.
I am grateful for a best friend who helps me without worrying about what it will cost her.
I am grateful that the Federation sent Ophelia and didn’t just take my pack from me.
I am grateful for my abilities, even if I can’t fucking figure them out.
The phone buzzed again before she could think of another item for her list. She dropped the pen.
Erik.
But it wasn’t Erik. It was Charley Coslaw.
Hey Ainsley, I’m out front, are you home? I have that termination for you.
Shit.
Ainsley walked to the door. Through the glass panes of the vestibule she could see Charley’s trademark green convertible. Though it was a chilly night, he had the top down.
She went through the vestibule and opened the front door, but remembering her promise to Erik, she didn’t step through.
Charley was blasting classic rock. He flashed her a friendly smile and waved. Camilla Parker Bowles stood on his lap, grinning with her tongue hanging out.
“Hey Ainsley, I’ve got your papers here, but I don’t want to leave the dog in the car. Do you mind grabbing them?”
Camilla Parker Bowles barked happily at Ainsley.
“Hey Charley, just bring her in! I’d be glad to find her a snack.”
“I don’t think she’s feeling well,” Charley shouted back. “Besides, I don’t want to keep you.” He waved the manilla envelope at her. “Never been happier to terminate a listing contract, by the way! Glad you finally came to your senses and decided to stay!”
Ainsley took a step out of the door and felt the tingle of the magic from the ward as she passed through it.
She paused.
Ainsley knew she was in some danger in general, but for heaven’s sake, it was only Charley. She had known him all her life. She couldn’t be paranoid all the time, she was the alpha. She would just grab the envelope and head back in - problem solved.
Ainsley took a few more steps across the porch toward the car.
She couldn’t hear Charley’s heartbeat with the loud music on and the engine running. But she would smell a trap.
And she didn’t smell anything.
Shit!
Ainsley wheeled around just in time to catch a lightning bolt to the chest that took her off her feet.
She landed hard, her back slamming into the porch floor. Instantly, she was hit with the sensation of being drenched with a bucket of ice water. It was a familiar feeling. Because Julian had used it on her to stop her from shifting only a month ago.
Her wolf banged heedlessly at the bars, but couldn’t come out. Ainsley threw her head back and howled in rage and pain.
Episode 2
Chapter 0
Ainsley took a few more steps across the porch toward the car.
She couldn’t hear Charley’s heartbeat with the loud music on and the engine running. But she would smell a trap.
And she didn’t smell anything.
Shit!
Ainsley wheeled around just in time to catch a lightning bolt to the chest that took her off her feet.
She landed hard, her back slamming into the porch floor. Instantly, she was hit with the sensation of being drenched with a bucket of ice water. It was a familiar feeling. Because Julian had used it on her to stop her from shifting only a month ago.
Her wolf banged heedlessly at the bars, but couldn’t come out. Ainsley threw her head back and howled in rage and pain.
Chapter 1
Ainsley lay on her back on the porch, head aching from the fall. The magic had hit her so hard, it felt like someone had replaced her bones with a swarm of angry bees. She tried to rise but couldn’t.
Exhaling slowly, she called on her senses for any information that might help her. The porch ceiling needed paint and there were dried-up fall leaves under the wicker sofa. Classic rock was still blasting from Charley’s car. The song had changed. It was a Stones song now. Jagger was in character, introducing himself and gloating over his wealth and his taste.
She could smell Camilla Parker Bowles dashing toward her. Instead of bounding up the stairs, the little dog began snuffling around in the rhododendrons that lined the front of the porch.
There was no sound of Charley. Had he been hit too? He had nothing to do with any of this. It seemed dreadfully unfair that even a human resident of this village had to suffer.
Ainsley’s wolf was slamming herself helplessly against the bars of Ainsley’s mind, but she was completely unable to shift.
In all the years she’d spent in Manhattan, denying her nature and wishing she could be free of what she saw as her curse, it had never occurred to her that she could feel such a profound sense of loss at losing that connection, however briefly.
Her jangled thoughts bounced to her mate, Erik. How must he feel, without his wolf?
And somewhere nearby was the bastard that took it. Ainsley grabbed hold of that thought before it could slip away and forced her consciousness around it until the chaos focused into a pinpoint of rage.
A powerful hum tingled along the surface of her skin. She couldn’t turn to her wolf, but her magic was still intact.
Responding to her call, the magic reverberated at a deeper pitch, clearing the cobwebs and bringing her back to the moment.
Ainsley was very, very angry.
A light blue haze tinted her vision.
A car door slammed.
Charley!
His heavy tread shook the porch as he approached. Thank god he was okay.
With supreme effort, Ainsley lifted her hand to him.
He didn’t take it.
Instead, she heard the creak of the wicker sofa and his face appeared, looming down over her.
“Ainsley,” he said. “Why couldn’t you just go?”
He leaned back and she was left looking at his knees, clad in a pair of soft brown cords.
“I’ve known you since you were a little girl. And, I don’t want to do this. But dammit, you’ve left me no choice.”
What was he talking about?
A fluttering of wings drew their attention.
�
�Are you finished monologuing, Coslaw?” a smooth voice asked.
“Jesus, Garrett, stop doing that.”
“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”
Ainsley capitalized on the distraction to take inventory of her body. The magic coursed through her and her limbs seemed less ghostlike and more real again. Maybe she could take them by surprise.
Before she could try, there was a tap, tap, tap sound across the porch.
An attractive older man with a long black cane stood above her.
“Ainsley Connor,” he said slowly.
She blinked at him.
“I’m going to keep this short and sweet,” said the man Charley had called Garrett. Where had she heard that name? “We’re here for the key. We know Sadie had it. We know she gave it to you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ainsley said, honestly.
“We are going to offer you one chance to hand it over. If you don’t, we’ll kill you.” Garrett spoke in a conversational tone, as though he were asking about the weather instead of threatening her life. “So, Ainsley Connor, daughter of Michael, where is the key?”
Ainsley willed herself not to mentally chase her tail wondering how sweet Charley Coslaw could be involved with this.
She had no clue what key they were talking about, but these two seemed to think she did. It occurred to Ainsley that her life might just depend on keeping them under that impression.
“You will rot in hell before you will lay one stinking finger on that key, you creepy, Charlie Chaplin motherfucker!” she spat.
Garrett barked out a surprised laugh. “Are you making fun of my cane?” he asked.
She shrugged and felt the magic surge again. Every part of her crackled with energy.
“Funny,” he said. “Well, I guess we’ll be finding the key on our own.”
With a flourish, he pulled a thin sword out of his cane and lifted it over his shoulder.
Suddenly, the neighbor’s holly bush shook and something dark and furry exploded out of it and streaked through the air, crashing into Garrett and knocking him to his knees.
