Grave Rites: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (Grant Wolves Book 6)

by Lori Drake

  Chris glanced at the clock again. Another minute had passed. He groaned and rubbed his face.

  “Honey, I’m home.” Joey’s familiar voice called from the doorway.

  Chris stilled, then lowered his hands and looked over at his wayward fiancée. It was about time. “Hey.”

  Joey pressed her lips together as she took in the sight of Maria at her desk. “Out.”

  Maria glanced between her Alphas, no doubt picking up on the sudden tension in the air. Rising, she grabbed her water bottle and headed for the door. “Let me know if you need any more help,” she called over her shoulder.

  Joey caught Maria’s arm as she moved to slip out of the room. “Actually, there is something you can do for me. Go over to Jon and Sara’s and keep an eye on things. Discreetly.”

  Chris leaned back in his chair, watching the interaction curiously.

  “Right now?” Maria asked, tilting her head.

  “Yes, now. Can you stay the night?”

  Maria furrowed her brow and glanced over at Chris. He muscled down a smile. Joey hated it when anyone so much as hinted at deferring to him over her, so Maria’s glance had to annoy her. Good.

  “Sure, okay…” Maria said. “Am I looking for anything in particular?”

  Joey’s eyes turned hard. Yup. Annoyed. “I’m not sure. I’ll let you know. Keep your eyes and ears open, and stay close to Melinda.”

  Chris held his tongue until Joey let Maria go and closed the door behind her. “What was that all about?”

  Joey locked the door and crossed the room, moving around his desk until she could lean against it on his side. He swiveled his chair slightly to face her.

  “Melinda’s a witch.”

  Blinking, Chris cocked his head to one side. “What?”

  “Apparently, wolves can be witches. Why are we always the last ones to find this shit out?” She folded her arms, frowning.

  Chris scratched the two days’ stubble on his chin. Joey’s revelation didn’t surprise him as much as he thought it should. After all, he was living proof that not all wolves were the same, that the magic in their blood could express itself in different ways. The idea of witchy wolves wasn’t terribly far-fetched. In fact, it made him wonder if he might be able to use magic in other ways too. But that was a question for another time.

  “Good idea, then. Sending someone to keep an eye on her. Justin is staying with Cathy, by the way.”

  Joey smacked her forehead. “Oh god, why didn’t I think of that?”

  A thin smile graced Chris’s lips. “Score one for tag team Alpha’ing.”

  Her eyes narrowed, but she merely nodded and rubbed the back of her neck. Her eyes slipped away from his, and an awkward pause followed until she said, “I’m sorry. Really sorry. About turning my phone off this morning. I just— I wasn’t ready to face you. I was a coward.”

  Chris studied her in silence, anger rising to the surface again. The fact that she hadn’t apologized for picking the fight in the first place wasn’t lost on him, but he knew how difficult it was for her to admit she was wrong. And for her to have been afraid to talk to him? That was troubling on a whole other level. But everything about her posture screamed contrition, and he simply didn’t have the heart to stay angry with her. As the swelling in his chest deflated, there was no point in letting her twist in the wind.

  “Apology accepted.” He held out his hand. “But why were you afraid to talk to me? I don’t ever want that.”

  Joey put her hand in his, curling her fingers around his, but closed her eyes. She kept them closed when she continued, as if afraid of what she might see if she opened them. “I wasn’t afraid to talk to you. Not exactly. I just feel so bad about last night. You were right, it was selfish.”

  Chris tugged on her wrist and drew her down to sit in his lap. He curled his arms around her and let her settle her back against his chest, propping his chin on her shoulder. “Honestly, last night didn’t bother me nearly as much as this morning did. I’m not saying I like fighting, but it’s kind of a side effect of both of us being pigheaded alphas.”

  “Who are you calling pigheaded?” Joey murmured, but it was a weak objection at best.

  Chris chuckled. “I’m just saying, sometimes we’re going to fight. But for you to not come home, to avoid my calls and texts—”

  “I know, I know. I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  He touched her chin, urging her to turn her head and look at him. The moisture on her cheeks stirred his wolf as well as his heart. Neither of them liked seeing her in pain. “Don’t be sorry, love. Just promise you won’t do it again. If you need some space to clear your head, take it. But don’t ignore me.”

  She nodded. “I won’t.”

  “As for the wedding…”

  Joey groaned and dashed her tears away with the back of her hand. “We don’t have to talk about that. I know now isn’t the right time. I do. I’m just so tired of waiting.”

  “Hear me out.” He tightened his arm around her waist and kissed her temple. “I want to marry you, Joey. But we only get one shot at it, and I want to do it right. I don’t know if it’s really just a formality for you, or if that was your anger talking, but it’s not for me. It’s important to me. I want our pack around us. Our family. All of them. Especially Sam, because I can’t imagine asking anyone else to be my best man. I want to see Dad walk you down the aisle. I want flowers and cake, and I’m willing to compromise on the location and the doves and the string quartet, but I just want that one perfect moment we’ll remember the rest of our lives.”

  She twisted in his lap to sit sideways, studying his face. “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

  He shrugged. “Because I’m a guy, I guess. That shit isn’t supposed to matter to me. But it does. Our family matters to me, now more than ever, and having them at the wedding matters to me too. I don’t think Mom intended it this way, but ever since we moved to Seattle it’s like I’ve been constantly reminded that I’m not really her son.”

  “That’s not true.” She framed his face with her hands. “You are her son in every way that matters. She never wanted it any other way.”

  “I know. It’s just… reminders everywhere. My birth father’s house. My birth mother’s gift…”

  “Take my name.”

  Chris paused, wrinkling his brow. “What?”

  “When we get married. You’ve always been a Grant in everything but name. Now you can be one in every way that matters.”

  Chris blinked rapidly in response to a sudden stinging in his eyes. Adelaide had always made it clear that he could be a Grant if he wanted to be, but he’d held off, wanting that last tenuous connection to his birth family. It didn’t seem as important now. Part of him wondered if it ever bothered her that he hadn’t changed his name. The rest of him marveled that Joey had cut to the heart of the matter so easily.

  “I don’t— I mean— Should I?”

  She smiled, and his heart skipped a beat. “If you want to. I was planning to hyphenate, but Grant-Martin is kind of a mouthful. Unless you want to go in on that with me.”

  Chris renewed his hold on her, crushing her against his chest until she squeaked and mumbled something about needing to breathe. Then he kissed her, slanting his mouth over hers and holding her close while his pulse pounded in his ears.

  “Mmm, is that a yes? Are we on to the making up now?” she murmured when they came up for air a few minutes later.

  “Yes. I think taking your name sounds perfect. But I still want my wedding.”

  She laughed and gave him a quick peck. “You’re going to go full groomzilla, aren’t you?”

  “Probably. Is that a problem?”

  “Only if I have to wear white.”

  He chuckled. “Honey, you don’t have to wear anything at all.”

  “Ooo, scandalous.” She clutched imaginary pearls. “What were you and Maria working on, anyway?”

  “Trying to dig up information about Naomi and the other missing witch.�
��

  Joey twisted to peer at his laptop’s screen. “Any luck?”

  “Not really. I keep wondering if I should reach out to Detective Harding.”

  “Why?”

  Chris shrugged a shoulder. “I dunno. It just feels like someone at the police department should know the two cases are related, and he’s the only cop we know.”

  Her eyes grew troubled, pale brows drawing closer together. “Was there a new development today you didn’t tell me about?”

  “Huh? No, why?”

  A faint smile curved her lips. “Because, last I heard, Harding was transferred to homicide, not missing persons.” The detective kind of owed that transfer to them, too. He’d been stuck in cold cases until they’d dropped a werewolf hunter responsible for a high-profile murder in his lap a few months prior.

  Chris sighed and stood, dislodging her from his lap so he could pace the width of the office. “I know. But there’s a big difference between two complete strangers being missing and two women who know each other being missing. The cops might not have any reason to believe the two disappearances are connected. Knowing that could mean the difference between finding them and not.”

  Joey leaned against the edge of the desk and folded her arms, watching him prowl back and forth. “I get it. But we’d have to read Harding in on witches being real, and that’s not our secret to tell. Plus, it’s not like he could put the information in the case notes. Telling him serves no purpose unless…”

  Chris pushed his fingers into his hair and rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, I know. Unless one of them turns up dead. Perish the thought.” He didn’t want to think too hard about that. But his hands were tied, nonetheless. Between Ethan’s staunch refusal of assistance and the lack of an appropriately placed clued-in cop at the police department, there just wasn’t much he could do. The knowledge chafed.

  Pushing off the desk, Joey walked over to stand in front of him before he could resume pacing. She rested her hands lightly on his waist as she looked up at him. “I know you’re frustrated. I am too. But there’s nothing else we can do tonight.” She paused, then nudged him backward until he fetched up against the bookcase. “Well, almost nothing.”

  “Hm?” His arms went around her reflexively, some of his frustration and worry fading into the background as he gazed into her eyes and inhaled her familiar scent. His wolf perked up too, definitely taking notice of the signals his mate was putting out.

  A mischievous smile warmed her face. “Well, we still have all that making up to do.”

  5

  The next morning, Joey sat quietly with Chris and Jon in a private room at the Snohomish County Jail, waiting for the guards to bring Colt in. She was so focused on not wringing her hands that she didn’t realize she was bouncing her knee until Chris stilled it with a warm hand.

  Her wolf didn’t like this place any more than she did. Even though she wasn’t actually in the detention area, the close hallways and small rooms made her skin itch. She didn’t want to be here, but she needed to be here—despite Chris’s assurance to the contrary before they headed into town. If anything, it was a distraction from fretting about the studio and the fact that she still hadn’t heard back from the real estate agent. Was that a good sign, or a bad sign? Then again, it was the weekend so it probably wasn’t a sign of anything.

  Tomorrow. I’m sure they’ll get back to me tomorrow. Then I’ll know how much trouble I’m really in.

  She should’ve come clean to Chris last night. But she couldn’t bring herself to, not when he was so willing to accept her apology for the fight. For now, what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt either of them.

  The door opened, and Joey hopped to her feet, rushing over to hug Colt. He stood there awkwardly, unable to hug her back with his hands still cuffed in front of him. She didn’t care.

  Pulling back, she took his head between her hands, scrutinizing his face. “How are you? Are you getting enough to eat? Exercise?” He looked a little thinner than he had when he was taken into custody a few weeks ago, but she’d felt nothing but solid muscle when she’d hugged him. For an accountant, Colt was well-built. He hadn’t always been a desk jockey.

  “Fine,” Colt murmured, meeting her gaze for a half-a-second before his eyes skittered off to look past her at Chris and Jon.

  “Please remove his restraints,” Jon said.

  The guard complied, either used to the request when Colt was meeting with his attorney or experienced enough with Colt to know he was docile. Maybe both. Colt rubbed his wrists once the cuffs were removed and gave Joey a proper hug, then shook Jon and Chris’s hands while the guard withdrew. The door closed behind the guard with the quiet snick of an automatic lock. The good thing about meeting Colt with Jon was that client-attorney couldn’t be monitored or recorded. They could speak more freely than if they’d come on their own to see him.

  Jon motioned them to the metal table in the center of the room, and they sat around it.

  “I know why you’re here.” Colt moistened his lips with his tongue. “It’s about Leta, isn’t it?”

  Chris exchanged a glance with Joey and nodded. “Can’t sneak anything past you, can we?”

  Colt blew out a breath in what could charitably be considered a chuckle. “Not this time, I guess. But my answer hasn’t changed. I don’t want Leta involved in this.”

  “Why not?” Joey asked, frowning. “She got all of us into this mess. She had to know it could blow up in her face.”

  “Because Kate wouldn’t want it,” Colt said.

  “Kate wouldn’t want you to rot behind bars either,” Chris said.

  Colt shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not saying I don’t hope Jon can get me off, but I’ve made my peace with it.”

  “At this point, we’ll be lucky if I can get a reduced sentence because you’ve been so cooperative,” Jon said, sitting back in his chair and crossing his legs.

  “But even then,” Joey said, “we’re talking about years, not months. Right?”

  Jon nodded, expression grave.

  “So we have no other choice,” Joey said. “We have to put Leta on the stand.”

  Silence hung in the air after that, only broken by Colt’s quiet, “No.”

  A wave of frustration and annoyance washed over Joey. She pushed her chair back and stood, leaning over to place her hands on the table. “I won’t pretend to understand why you want to protect her, but you’re running out of options. Don’t do something you’ll regret.”

  Colt kept his eyes lowered, shoulders hunching a bit.

  “Joey,” Chris said.

  Joey flicked a glance at her fiancé. He motioned toward the door and stood. Growling softly, she straightened and marched in that direction. They knocked, and the guard let them out of the room, leaving Colt and Jon alone inside.

  Chris caught her arm and drew her down the hall, out of earshot. Bristling, she jerked her arm free when she judged them far enough.

  “We can’t let him do this,” Joey hissed. “He’s going to go to prison.”

  Chris crowded her until she backed up against the wall, cupping her face with one big hand. It probably looked to passersby that they were having a semi-private moment. “It’s his decision.”

  The calm acceptance in his eyes did little to soothe her. “It doesn’t have to be. Maybe it shouldn’t be.” She gave him a meaningful look.

  Chris blinked, leaning back. “You’re not serious.”

  “We’re his Alphas. We have to protect him, even if that means protecting him from himself. It’d be better if you did it, his bond with you is stronger.”

  His eyes searched hers, and from his expression, he didn’t like what he saw. His hand fell from her cheek to land on her shoulder. “No. Absolutely not. I’m not going to take his free will away.”

  She sighed. “Do you want him to go to prison? To go moon mad? To expose us all? One little alpha command, and all of that goes away.” Weak-willed wolves like Colt were particularly vulnerabl
e to alpha dominance.

  “No, of course not.” He closed his eyes, the pain flickering across his face confusing her for a moment until she realized the cause of his reluctance.

  “It’s not like Madrigal’s mind control magic,” she whispered, gut churning with sudden nausea. “Not at all.”

  He opened his eyes, but the blue orbs were haunted. “How not? We’d be imposing our will on him. Subverting his own. How does that make us any better? I don’t see it.”

  “I guess when you put it that way…” Joey sighed, frustrated but also feeling a little dirty about her own suggestion. Even if she still believed it was more than a little justified.

  “The fact that Colt is standing up to us about it at all says how important it is to him,” he said. “I’m not saying I’ll give up on trying to talk him out of it, but this is what I want from our betas. I want them to feel like they can stand up for what matters to them. That we’ll listen to them, you know?”

  “Just because we listen doesn’t mean we’ll always agree, or that what they want is what’s best.”

  He sighed. “Don’t you remember how angry you used to get when Mom decided what was best for you? Listen to yourself.”

  “Of course I remember.” Her eyes narrowed, annoyance flaring at the reminder. “But now I’m starting to understand a bit more about the responsibility she had as Alpha. I never got that before. And until you start to get it, this is going to come up time and time again.”

  “Your way isn’t always the right way.”

  “Except when it is.”

  Chris pushed off the wall with a frustrated grunt, shaking his head and putting some space between them. “Let’s just see if we can find some middle ground this time. I owe him that much. It’s easy to blame Leta for everything, but it’s my fault Colt’s here too. He turned himself in to protect me, remember? If I’d been smarter about—” He glanced around, lowering his voice even further. “About what I knew was in those woods, the cops wouldn’t have found anything.”