Shifter Wars: Supernatural Battle (Werewolf Dens Book 1)

by Kelly St Clare

  I’d known something wasn’t right. Enough to forget about the toy truck gripped in my hand.

  The thing that tortured me for so long was his expression in that memory. For a while, I interpreted the shine in his eyes and the flat line of his mouth to mean he hadn’t wanted to leave and would return. Then I realised that’s what guilt looked like. Dropkick knew that was the last time he’d see me.

  “Murphy,” Herc said, watching me intently.

  Oh, I knew his name. “To me, he’s just Dropkick.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more, especially for learning he’s your father. It might interest you to know he’s dead.”

  My brows rose. “He is? When? How?”

  Perhaps that information should trigger some emotion in me. But honestly? How could I mourn a stranger who’d only hurt me and Mum?

  “A rock-climbing accident. Years ago.”

  Murphy returned here after leaving us. “So he left with Mum, then came back here?”

  A wrinkle appeared between Herc’s brows. “Murphy worked transporting goods from Frankton Gorge to the valley. Ragna left after one of his runs. None of us ever thought the two were connected.”

  “You never knew she was pregnant with me?” I asked, studying the photo of my mother and the grandmother I’d never known.

  “Never,” he said vehemently. “She had to have been pregnant with you before leaving, given your age, but she wasn’t showing.” He broke off, looking past the gardens to the forest. “I could never make sense of her leaving except for our mother’s death shortly before. Ragna loved her dearly.”

  I nodded. “She always spoke about Charise. And sometimes your father. She never mentioned you though. She hid the pregnancy from you too.” Glancing up, I met his gaze. “Why is that?”

  He closed his blue eyes briefly. “Ragna often felt trapped by the weight of being a Thana. As you’ve already found, the community places us on somewhat of a pedestal. That’s not always easy to bear. When our father passed several years before our mother’s death, responsibility for the valley fell on my shoulders. I’m afraid that, being rather young and inexperienced myself, I wasn’t as adept as my father at helping my sister to manage her feelings. She rebelled more and more, spurning family responsibilities to engage in activities that I saw as selfish—or at the very least, detrimental to our family’s standing in the community.” He sighed and leaned back. “That’s perhaps too honest. I loved my sister, but… she had her faults just the same as anyone else.”

  I was well aware of my mother’s faults. Not that I liked her being shot down, but I’d rather all the facts than the edited version. “Don’t filter anything, please.”

  “We said things to each other during those years that I’m not proud of. I can only use the stress of sudden leadership as an excuse. Looking back, I see my sister was floundering. Being more sensitive than me, she was hit hard by Father’s death. When our mother died, I was afraid of what grief might do to Ragna. She handled it… surprisingly well. She began to pull her weight again. I thought, foolishly, she’d found her way again.”

  He paused, hands tight on his knees.

  This had to be opening old scars for him, but I sat still, afraid he’d stop. I wanted to know everything. My mother’s past couldn’t die a secret. It had to be passed on through me or she’d be forgotten forever.

  Herc’s voice was hoarse. “I guess that was her preparing to leave. Meanwhile, like an idiot, I was over the moon because I had my sister back and we weren’t fighting. Then I woke to find her gone. She’d posted a letter to say she wouldn’t be back. I had no way to find her. Worst of all, no explanation for her decision. Days turned to weeks and months to years, and it was obvious she wouldn’t return. If not for the note, I would have scoured the valley to find her, assuming someone had harmed her. That’s how shocked we were. None of us saw the signs. Even now, I can remember how hurt and abandoned I felt.”

  Welcome to the club.

  I tapped a finger on the glass table. The explanation gave me a lot to go on, but the conclusion was that Herc didn’t know why Mum left. For whatever reason, they’d drifted apart when he became the head of the Thana family. I didn’t see anything nefarious in that. I knew my mother and her faults, and his words rang of truth. Herc could only have been a few years older than me when he inherited responsibility of this valley. With both parents dead, and so much responsibility, both my mother and Herc could be forgiven a lot.

  People fucked up.

  “Thank you,” I told him. “I appreciate your honesty. I don’t suppose any of my mother’s old friends are still around to talk to? I’d love to meet with them before I leave.”

  His blue eyes flickered. “Some were as hurt as I was by Ragna’s decision to leave, but I can see if they’re willing to speak with you.”

  “I’d appreciate that.”

  He searched my face. “How have you been since your mother’s death? You look tired.”

  I clamped down on the urge to fidget. He was doing the responsible adult thing again. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  Herc’s steady gaze didn’t leave my face. “Probably because you slept in your car.”

  “You followed me?”

  He grinned. “You mentioned staying somewhere in the valley, but we own all the accommodation in town. Everything was empty last night.”

  Oh…

  “Sorry for my assumption. Yes, I slept in my car. I don’t know you, and I didn’t feel comfortable staying here.”

  “Fair enough. A smart choice. You seem like a very focused young woman. I’d like to know more about you, if that’s okay?”

  I liked his mild manner and patience. Responsible adult questions aside, I did want to know my… well, I guess he was my uncle.

  Gross.

  That concept felt like trying on pants three sizes too small.

  Taking a breath, I said, “I’m about to start my final year of a business and communications degree. I took the course online so I could care for Mum. That’s pretty much it.”

  “I’m certain there’s much more to you,” he said, turning away to pull the heads off a rampantly growing chive. “How are you doing in your degree?”

  Heat crept into my cheeks. Straight As. Only due to my sad social life and Logan’s long hours. “Pretty well.”

  “Is there a special someone at home?”

  I shrugged. “I have a boyfriend. And a reception job at an accounting firm.”

  Herc called over his shoulder as he worked a few weeds free. “How long do you plan to stay in the valley for?”

  “I’ll need to return Monday at the latest.” I stared at my hands.

  He sat again, hands full of weeds. “So soon? I’m sorry to hear that. Let me know if there’s any way I can convince you to extend your stay.”

  Sell off a chunk of land to pay Mum’s gambling debts? “Gotta pay the bills and get back to Logan.”

  “Of course. Please, let me at least put you up in one of our town accommodations while you’re here.”

  I hesitated. I couldn’t recall being offered something like this ever.

  Jesus, I must look poor and desperate. The discomfort was real.

  “Free of charge, of course,” he rushed to add. “There’s a place right in town. You’d be within walking distance of everything. The concept of being an uncle is a new one for me, but I believe this is the kind of things uncles do for their nieces?”

  I laughed despite the niece curveball. “Are you asking me?”

  He snorted. “Well, yes. Between us, I’m sure we’ll figure out how this works in time.”

  The word no lurked on my lips as I prepared to slam the door closed. Though he’d offered me a place in town, so I wouldn’t be living in the manor.

  Discomfort aside, why would I say no when the alternative was sleeping in Ella F?

  I managed to swallow the word back, pointy corners and all. “Okay, thanks. That’d be great.”

  5

&nbs
p; I dusted off my hands and scanned the apartment.

  This was officially the nicest place I’d ever been in. Patio doors opened to reveal river views. Even the sound of pouring water just outside was like a meditation tape. En suite, lounge, and kitchen, this place wasn’t accommodation—it was a gorgeous apartment.

  Beaming, I watched people milling along the road below. Thursday nights were a stark contrast to Wednesdays. Where did all these fancy people come from? Decked with jewels, they promenaded up and down the riverside, laughing with their friends.

  They looked ready to spend money.

  Oh, to be a waitress tonight.

  Straightening, I glanced at my saxophone case.

  Actually…

  I hadn’t busked in a long time, but I could make a killing off the crowd tonight. Of course, the town might have rules regulating buskers, but I could sneak in thirty minutes before someone stopped me, surely.

  Kicking off my jeans and discarding my thick, cable sweater, I yanked on my only black dress—a first date number—and shrugged into a jean jacket, slipping into white strappy block heels I’d scored at a secondhand store last year. Tearing the tie from my hair, I ran the plastic glitter brush I’d had since age twelve through the long strands and tied the top half in a bun.

  I tightened the neck strap of my sax, shoving a 3.0 reed in my mouth as I assembled my beloved instrument. The sax wasn’t cheap—Mum saw me looking at it in a shop window and could only afford it because of a win on the slot machines. Later, when we’d desperately needed the thousands she’d spent, I’d offered to sell the thing, but she wouldn’t hear of it.

  Maybe I only started playing at thirteen to justify her spending that money, but playing had morphed into so much more.

  Fixing the reed in place, I tucked my chin, drawing my lips in tight and launched into a D scale.

  Ahh.

  The soulful sound touched something in me no one else ever had. Tears squeezed at the corners of my eyes, and I embraced the ache.

  I limbered my fingers and embouchure with scales and exercises learned off YouTube.

  Dropping my phone, keys, and card sleeve into my purse, I slung the bag over my head, snatched up an old cap, and pulled the apartment door closed after me. A communal stairway led down to street level, and I shut the front entrance, crossing the cobbled street to the river side.

  Crap. Finding a free spot on the pavement would be difficult. Deception Valley was pumping tonight. I spotted an empty bench seat, and beelined for it, clambering atop.

  Better.

  A few people in the crowd stopped in anticipation, and I didn’t waste a beat. I wanted eggs on toast from the café for breakfast again. If I could make enough for a tank of petrol, that would be awesome.

  Tossing my old cap on the bench next to me, I closed my eyes, setting my top teeth on the mouthpiece and drawing my lips tight.

  “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran suited the vibe.

  I began, letting my exhale flow into the brass instrument. I loved this song because it was so simple. Adding my own spin to the ballad was easy.

  Trying to ignore the sudden silence, I continued through the verse to the pre-chorus, keeping my eyes closed as I did my best to imagine I was alone.

  Not that I didn’t like playing for people, but they were a distraction. To feel the music, really feel it, I had to pretend no one was around.

  With the river at my back, and the fresh air, envisioning my empty forest wasn’t hard.

  I held the last note, moving my jaw to add vibrato. Closing the song, I opened my eyes.

  I had a crowd. Good.

  Smiling and thanking those who dropped in coins and notes, I settled into the next song, “The Edge of Glory” by Lady Gaga.

  The money came in a steady trickle, and my stomach rumbled at the thought of tomorrow’s meal. Hell yeah! If I got enough for petrol, maybe I could explore the area a little tomorrow.

  Blasting the final note, I lowered my sax.

  “You can’t play that here.”

  Standing on the bench brought me to the guy’s chin. Whoa. Handsome. Twin dimples. Yum. I’d have to scope out his body if he didn’t annoy me too much with his next words.

  “Oh, really?” I said. “Not even for half an hour?”

  His face firmed. “The council restricts busking after 5:00 p.m. As you know.”

  I nearly groaned. “You must know Rhona. My name is Andie. I’m visiting Deception Valley for a long weekend. So no, I wasn’t aware.”

  The blond giant jerked as though I’d physically struck him. “You’re not Rhona? Wait, don’t answer that. You have manners. But you must be a Thana.”

  He was the first person to not sound overjoyed about Mum’s family. Interesting. “I’m a Booker. And I’ve never met Rhona, but I can assure you, I’m not her.”

  Seriously though. I wanted to meet this chick.

  The guy studied me as though wondering which box to place me in. Giving into temptation, I let my eyes wander. Yep, firm body. Bit of an attitude. Tall. Mmm-mmm. I might be a taken woman but looking was free.

  He folded his arms, biceps popping. “Same answer for you, miss. It’s past five. As nice as your music sounds, you’ll need to stop.”

  “But why?” I pressed. “People are enjoying it.”

  “Because they’re staying on the street instead of entering our establishment,” he answered.

  I cocked a hip, resting my sax on top. “The only reason I have to stop is because your business isn’t entertaining enough? No deal.”

  In line with that sentiment, I launched into “Fuck You” by Ceelo Green.

  Some of the eavesdropping members in the crowd recognized the song and sang along. I held tight to the mouthpiece with my lips against the urge to grin. Smiling and playing sax wasn’t a great combination.

  The man bristled, and I averted my gaze at the sudden brightness there. More coins and notes flowed into my cap.

  Just a little more. Then I’d listen to Dimples.

  Turning my back on him, I played to a young couple, then winked at a small group of middle-aged women. One of them gasped, pointing.

  I spun. The music cut off as my jaw dropped as I took in the empty bench. The fucker had swiped up my hat!

  “That’s my money, asshole,” I shouted after him.

  The crowd reared back as I launched off the bench seat, booking after the huge guy. I squeezed between the hordes. “Come back! That’s mine.”

  That mothershitter.

  That was my breakfast money.

  I puffed, protecting my sax as I chased him down the main road and up a damn hill. Why didn’t people separate for me like that?

  Oh, fuck. I was not made for inclines. Sweating, I placed my hands on my knees, panting as I glared up at the huge sign.

  The Dens.

  I sucked in breath after breath, clutching my side.

  He’d gone inside.

  I was going to kick his ass.

  Linguistically.

  An arm barred the way. “ID.”

  “A guy went in here. He stole my money,” I panted at the bouncer. My mouth bobbed as I took him in. What the hell? Another hot guy? Did this valley have a magic spring they bathed male babies in?

  Dark hair flopped over his eyes, and he brushed it back. “ID. And the cover charge is ten bucks.”

  Was it now? I narrowed my gaze. “Do you have card? I don’t have any cash.”

  “Sure.” He turned to grab the machine.

  Ha!

  Gripping my saxophone, I leaped the cordon and dodged into the stone building. The bouncer shouted after me.

  I spotted Dimples immediately. Though, on second thought, he could be downgraded to Asshole.

  The thief leaned against the bar without a care in the world.

  He’d rue the day he angered a redhead.

  Storming up to the bar, I snatched at the open hat on the bar top. “What the fuck is your problem?”

  The female bartender sneered. “You
’re not welcome here, Rhona.”

  “Not her,” Asshole grunted. “Some lookalike. Not even a Thana.”

  Well… perhaps he’d overinterpreted that part, but they clearly weren’t keen on Rhona or the Thanas, so I wouldn’t correct them.

  The woman’s expression wiped clean. “Huh. You’re shitting me? Uncanny. And I’m glad. She’s a mega bitch.”

  A hand gripped my upper arm.

  I scowled over my shoulder at the bouncer. “Yeah, yeah. Keep your pants on. I’ve got what I came for.”

  “You need to pay the cover charge,” he seethed.

  I jerked a thumb at Asshole. “He offered to pay.” Pursing my lips, I pointed at the patrons streaming in the unmanned front door. “I don’t think they got the cover charge memo.”

  Cursing, the bouncer let me go, racing back to the door.

  The bartender snickered.

  “Where the fuck is Hairy?” a quiet voice asked.

  I stilled. I just stopped.

  After a beat, my chest loosened, and I sucked in a ragged breath.

  Whoa.

  Asshole answered, “Sorry, boss. We’ve had some trouble with this one.”

  “Pretty sure you know my name,” I retorted. “But you can forget it. This one is leaving.”

  I whirled and smacked into a wall of man. Rubbing my nose, I stepped back.

  The wall spoke. “This is?”

  I froze again. Completely. Like a car stalling.

  Restarting, I shivered. How on earth could I hear such a quiet voice over the music anyway? I’d never heard anything like his smooth tones—maybe my saxophone, but that didn’t really compare.

  Craning my neck, I studied the man’s face. He had to be the tallest man I’d ever seen. Dressed in a black shirt and black pants that marked him as a businessman, his dark brown hair extended to just above his shoulders. The stubble lining his sharp jaw was a day past groomed.

  Totally, totally pulling off the look.

  I swallowed hard at the sight of his uncompromising mouth, trailing my gaze up the full plains of his face.

  Our eyes met, and something slammed into my chest. He grunted, doubling slightly as I gasped, falling back against the bar. Arms whipped out to catch me, and I sagged against Asshole, sucking in gulps of air.