by Lori Drake
The driver’s door opened behind him. “Chris! Where are you going?”
He waved a hand over his shoulder and kept walking. He needed to move. Anger was like a living thing inside of him, roiling and seething, wrapping around his already bruised heart and squeezing. He didn’t hear the door close or her footsteps hurrying after him. When she grabbed his arm, he spun with a growl, fists clenched at his sides. Whatever she saw on his face made her take a step back before she caught herself and held her ground, placing her hand over his heart. He suppressed the urge to recoil from her touch and closed his eyes instead. His wolf, at least, responded positively to her touch.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft in the quiet of the night. “I shouldn’t have sprung that on you like that, after all this stuff with Naomi and the coven, I just— I couldn’t keep it in anymore. It’s been eating me up inside.”
Chris opened his eyes slowly, raking them over her moonlit face. Guilt and remorse was written plainly on her features, but it did little to douse the fire within him. “Good. It should.”
She flinched, her hand dropping away. His fingers twitched to catch it, but it was instinct more than anything else.
“Is there anything else?”
Her brows drew together. “What?”
He stepped closer, as tightly wound as he could remember ever being. “Any other secrets you’ve been keeping? Things you’ve been up to behind my back?”
“No.” She didn’t back down, not even when she had to tip her head up to meet his eyes. “That’s it, I swear. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it sooner.”
“But not sorry you did it.”
“Yes? No? I don’t know.”
Chris stepped back again, a shiver running down his spine despite the lack of chill in the air. His clothes felt tight and his wolf called to him. Embrace me, it said, and all this will go away for a while. Running from his problems had never solved anything, but having that escape was nice every now and then. He pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes, leaving them both on the ground as he reached for his fly.
“What are you doing?” Joey asked as he shoved his pants and underwear down, leaving him naked and bathed in the moon’s glow.
He slid his anti-possession ring off and pressed it into her hand. “I’ll see you at home. Don’t wait up.”
“Are you crazy? We’re nowhere near home! I know you’re upset, and I get it. I’ll give you whatever space you need, just please… get dressed and get in the car. Or, hell, just get in the car. You can drive if you want. Please.” Tears filled her eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she pleaded with him.
Chris called upon his wolf’s primal power, letting it course through him. The anger inside him lost its grip, and sadness rushed in. He cupped her cheek with one hand. “I’ll always love you, Joey. But right now, I don’t like you much.”
Kneeling, he let his wolf surge to the fore and was standing on four paws a moment later. He shook himself, then lifted his nose to scent the night air. It smelled like trees and earth, with a distant tang of concrete and motor oil from the nearby highway. Liberated from turbulent human emotion, he felt only the desire to run, to feel the wind in his fur and listen to the patter of small, fearful creatures scattering for cover.
“Chris!”
His mate’s pain-filled voice drew him back from thoughts of running, and he bumped against her legs. She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around him, burying her wet face in his soft fur. He twisted until he could lick the salty moisture from her cheeks, then pulled away from her and took off into the wilderness beyond the edge of the highway.
He ran, following the asphalt ribbon for a while before breaking off to stay within the trees and skirt around a populated area. He chased down a rabbit and took a snack break, happily crunching bones and flesh between his powerful jaws. He ran some more, immersed and exalting in the sounds and smells and tastes of the wilderness. Carefree.
It was a long run home—Joey was right about that. By the time he got there, his paws were aching but the worst of his anger had faded away. What was left when he shifted back to human form was dwarfed by weariness, and that… that was much more manageable.
Weariness was something he knew what to do about, unlike seemingly everything else in his life.
7
Joey woke to find herself stretched out on her bed, which resulted in a bit of disorientation since she remembered falling asleep on the couch, waiting for Chris to come home.
Chris.
Joey reached out automatically, and her fingers touched warm, bare skin in the bed beside her. She turned over slowly and carefully, relief flooding her as she found Chris asleep there. He was sacked out on his stomach, completely nude, with liberal smudges of dirt darkening his back. A small leaf was stuck to his left buttock. Wrinkling her nose, she plucked it free and relocated it to the nightstand. She was going to have to boil these damn sheets to get them clean but found herself not as bothered about the mess as she might’ve been another time.
He was there. He’d come home. Hell, from the look of things, he’d carried her up to bed and tucked her in before falling in beside her. That was a good sign. Right?
She watched him sleep for a few moments, running light fingers down his back in a soothing caress. Soothing herself, mostly. If she’d had any idea he’d run off like that, she would’ve waited to tell him about the studio after they got home. Or, more likely, not at all. She wanted to be angry with him but found it difficult. The way she’d hared off the other night, it’d be mighty hypocritical of her. So instead, she leaned over and pressed a kiss into his dirty hair and stole from the bed rather than wake him for round two. Or was it three? She didn’t relish the thought of another fight with him but knew the matter was far from settled.
She showered, dressed, made coffee, and when he still wasn’t up, set an alarm on his phone and left it on the nightstand so he wouldn’t miss Colt’s trial. Or, if he did, it wouldn’t be because he hadn’t set an alarm and overslept. She also left him his anti-possession ring and a note, penned thoughtfully on a sticky yellow square.
Gone to pick Cathy’s brain. Still sorry. Lunch later? Love you.
Forty-five minutes later, she knocked on Cathy’s back door. Justin answered, still wearing pajama pants and a faded T-shirt. Even after a few months of living with him, it was still a little weird to see him in anything but slacks and a sweater vest. The way his hair stood up, it was clear he hadn’t even run a comb through it yet. But he appeared awake enough, a mug of coffee in one hand when he let Joey in. Given the late night activities, she shouldn’t have been surprised that he was just starting his day at 11 a.m.
She flashed him a smile, tucking her fingers in the back pockets of her jeans. “Morning, sleepyhead. Cathy up yet?”
“In the shower. I was just making some eggs. Want some?”
“Sure. Can I help with anything?”
He motioned at the loaf of bread sitting on the counter near the toaster. Joey wasn’t much of a cook, but toast was definitely something she could handle. She set to work, after a glance at the nutrition label. 100% whole wheat. Excellent.
“I assume everything’s been quiet around here?” she asked.
“Yeah. No more surprises after you left. The meeting broke up within an hour or so.”
“Good. I guess.” Joey turned her back on the toaster, leaning against the counter while she waited for it to do its thing. A watched toaster never toasts, or something like that. “How’s Cathy holding up?”
“Okay. The news about Naomi hit her hard, but she’s been trying not to let on how much.”
“Nothing escapes you, eh?”
He shrugged. “Hard to hide from someone you’re sharing a twelve hundred square foot house with.”
“Thanks for staying with her. Knowing she’s in good hands is a weight off our shoulders.”
“No problem. I called in sick today, but if anyone else is available to stay with her duri
ng the day tomorrow, that’d be helpful. I’m happy to take the night shift.”
Joey winced. Right. Some of them actually had jobs and responsibilities outside the pack. If things worked out with the studio, she’d be one of them, too. “Sure, no problem. If nothing else, I can stay with her. We’ll work something out.”
While they finished collaborating on breakfast, Joey went through her mental rolodex of pack members. Itsuo might agree to it—if Chris asked him—but he didn’t check in every day and wasn’t very good about answering his phone. Jon wouldn’t leave Sara for anything but court, and she wouldn’t ask him to right now, anyway. Her father was far from infirm, but he wasn’t exactly bodyguard material. A lover, not a fighter, and all that. She could re-task Maria, but would need someone else to keep an eye on Melinda. Everyone else was either out of town, working, or sleeping during the day. An unexpected situation for one of the largest packs in North America. Reluctantly, she fished her phone out of her pocket and sent Ben a quick text.
Can you cut your visit short? Trouble on the home front.
She hated to ask, but this was something of an all hands on deck scenario. Ben had accompanied Vince to Wenatchee for a long weekend to visit Vince’s brother. Or, at least so Vince could visit his brother. Ben was more interested in visiting the Wenatchee pack’s hot, bisexual Alpha. Joey honestly wasn’t sure if Max and Ben had hooked up yet, but for her brother’s sake hoped so.
Her phone chimed less than a minute later with Ben’s reply.
What kind of trouble?
Joey tapped out a quick reply before turning back to the toaster for the last slices.
The Naomi is dead and Cathy could be next kind.
Her phone rang within seconds. She answered and tucked it between her shoulder and ear.
“What’s going on?” Ben asked.
“I told you almost everything we know so far. I need you to come help Justin witchsit. He’s gotta get back to work tomorrow. I’d do it myself, but I need to be available to run down leads.”
“I’ve only got two more days off left myself.”
“Hopefully, we won’t need you any longer than that. But we’ll work something out. It could be nothing, but I don’t want to take the chance.”
“Yeah, I get it. We’ll head back tonight.”
Some of the tension in Joey’s shoulders eased. “Thanks, bro. Tell everyone I said hi.”
Once that was taken care of, Joey finished with the toast and brought it to the table. Justin already had the eggs and bacon on, covered to keep them warm. Joey inventoried the table. Everything seemed to be there, and yet she couldn’t shake the thought that something was missing. She didn’t figure it out until Justin brought a delicate porcelain tea cup and saucer to the table. Right. Cathy’s tea!
Joey’s stomach finally rumbled a protest about having nothing but coffee all morning, but fortunately she didn’t have to wait much longer. Cathy came into the kitchen moments after they finished setting the table, smiling as she spotted Joey. There was no mistaking her red-rimmed eyes, though.
Joey hopped to her feet and hurried over to give her godmother a hug. Cathy wrapped her arms around her and squeezed, rocking back and forth. It was like being enfolded in a warm blanket of love. Cathy gave good hugs.
“Good morning,” Joey said.
“Good morning yourself. Didn’t expect to see you today. Is that bacon I smell?”
“Yes ma’am,” Justin said, pulling out the chair at the head of the table for the older woman.
Cathy kept an arm around Joey, pulling her over to the table. “What brings you by, child?”
“Wanted to check in, what with what happened last night and all.” Joey sank into a chair and spread a paper napkin in her lap, but waited until Cathy reached for a slice of bacon to begin serving herself.
“There’s still no news about Rachel. For now we’re going with ‘no news is good news.’”
“Good philosophy,” Justin murmured, scooping scrambled eggs onto Cathy’s plate and then his own.
Joey smiled to herself, biting her lip to keep it from becoming an inappropriate smile given the subject matter. “Yeah, for sure. Did anything interesting happen at the coven meeting after we left? Or before we arrived, for that matter?”
Cathy studied her in silence for a lengthy pause, a piece of egg speared on her fork. “Are you asking me to betray coven confidences?”
Joey hesitated. Was she asking too much of her godmother? She snapped off a piece of bacon with her teeth. The salty flavor burst on her tongue, lighting up her senses as she considered her next move carefully. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m asking.”
“So long as we’re clear.” Cathy shrugged, utterly unperturbed. “You didn’t miss much. Ethan broke the news to the coven and paired everyone up, with an eye toward weaker practitioners being with stronger ones, for their protection.”
“Oh? Where’s your little buddy?” Joey asked.
Cathy’s smile was toothsome but utterly without joy. “Caught on to that, did you?”
Frowning, Joey glanced between the two of them. “Huh?”
“He didn’t assign her to anyone,” Justin said, rising to head for the refrigerator.
Joey tilted her head. “He didn’t? Why not?”
Cathy shrugged. “Either he noticed my big tough bodyguard, or he thought I could take care of myself.”
Returning to the table with a jar of raspberry jam, Justin smirked. “Or he thought it a fine opportunity to be rid of you.”
“Such a pessimist,” Cathy murmured over a sip of tea, but her eyes sparkled.
Joey leaned back in her chair, idly toying with a triangle of toasted wheat bread. “Well, I doubt he’d feel a need to assign anyone to you for your protection, but I’m a little surprised he didn’t assign anyone for you to look after. How long has this guy been the High Priest?”
“A few years,” Cathy said. “Why?”
“Because, at the rate he’s going, he isn’t going to be in charge for long. He’s too good at pushing away his allies.”
“It’s not entirely without cause. He feels threatened by me, that much is clear. And you, well, from what I’ve heard, relations with the previous Alpha of Seattle weren’t exactly friendly.”
“I got that impression.” Joey wished she could go back in time and smack Eric. As it was, she’d thought she’d finished cleaning up his messes months ago. “What can you tell me about that?”
Cathy shook her head, a vertical line appearing between her brows. “Not much, I’m afraid. All I know is that Eric and Ethan were not on good terms, and he wasn’t sorry to see Eric go.”
“I don’t find that hard to believe at all.” Joey took a thoughtful bite of her toast, reflecting on who might be able to tell her more. “Maybe Itsuo, Jenny, Lucy, or Adam can fill in some of those blanks. I’ll ask them.” The four of them, plus Colt, were the only surviving members of Eric’s reign of terror. Well, Jessica was too, but she was out of pocket for the foreseeable future.
“I’d be curious to hear whatever you find out,” Cathy said.
“Sure. You’ll let us know if there are any developments on the coven front?”
Cathy huffed softly. “Yes, I’ll be your spy. But he’ll probably assume as much and won’t tell me everything. I have more pull with some of the others, so I’ll see what I can do.”
Joey nodded. She couldn’t ask for more than that. “Thanks.”
They lapsed into comfortable silence for a while after that, and Joey’s thoughts drifted to what would come next. It was time to contact Detective Harding, for sure. Maybe he’d be willing to share information, in everyone’s best interests. Otherwise, they were going to have to set about collecting information the old-fashioned way. The only person who truly knew what happened to Naomi was the killer… Or were they?
She straightened in her seat.
“What’s up?” Justin asked.
Cathy put a hand on his arm. “Shh. She’s having an idea.”
“I was just thinking, the only two people who truly know what’s going on are Naomi and her killer.”
Cathy pressed her lips together, brow furrowing in thought before smoothing in revelation. “Ah.”
Justin’s confused eyes flicked between them. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
“Dean,” Joey said.
“The medium?” Justin said. “Ohhh, right. The medium. Where’d he disappear to, anyway? He’s been gone since, well, practically since we got back from Nevada.”
Joey pushed away her mostly empty plate, intent on the conversation once more. “He’s still in Mexico with Harper, right?”
“Last I heard,” Cathy murmured, expression thoughtful.
“Who’s Harper?” Justin asked.
“His mentor. Harper taught him everything he knows about spirits. Dean’s powers went a little wonky after we got back, so he went to visit Harper to get a handle on things.” Joey fiddled with the edge of the tablecloth. She missed Dean; he’d become a good friend, and he’d been gone for months. It was a necessary absence, but that didn’t mean she had to like it. “I hate to think of Naomi not crossing into the great beyond or whatever… but murder is the perfect recipe for a revenant. If she’s still around, maybe she can tell us what happened.”
“If she’s not insane.” Justin shot Cathy an apologetic glance. She waved him off, and he continued, “The newer ones have a tenuous grasp on reality, at best.”
Joey lifted a brow, studying her packmate thoughtfully, wondering for the first time what other knowledge might be tucked away in his head. She knew he had an interest in magic and the occult but hadn’t considered him a potential resource until then. Hell, he could be a lycanthrope witch, for all she knew.
Cathy dabbed her mouth with her napkin and set it beside her plate. “It’s worth giving him a call. Any information is better than what we have right now.”
It took a moment for Joey’s wandering mind to catch up, but she nodded when it did and pushed back her chair. “Agreed. I’ll call him.”
