The Thanas hated the Luthers.
I’d just found Mum’s brother and Rhona.
Did I need to tell anyone when this would dwindle to nothing in time? How many of these stupid meets could there be?
Calm enough after an eighteen-hour sleep, I could now admit that leaving without questioning Sascha thoroughly was unwise. He was right.
Asshole.
“Just so you know, every second you delay is taking a year off my life,” Wade said.
Placing Wade in an awkward spot wasn’t fair.
I’d edit. “A wolf cub got stuck in the brambles in the water. I heard howling from upriver and ran to help. I managed to free him, but the tree rolled and took me underwater.”
His mouth bobbed. “Fuck, Andie. Who saved you?”
I frowned. Good question. “No idea. A werewolf, I guess.”
Whom you didn’t thank.
“I woke on their pack lands.”
Wade slid a hot drink before me. “The pack lands.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Is there more than one?”
Crossing the bridge had landed me on the south valley ranges. Fuck you, hindsight.
Walter Nash had a lot to answer for.
“No one has entered Luther pack lands. That place is trussed up tighter than Ana in Fifty Shades of Grey. What’s it like?”
Cabins. Trees. A stream that wound through the cabins. I hadn’t seen much—Ella F was parked right outside Sascha’s cabin, and I burned out of there like someone who’d farted in a supermarket aisle. “Like a summer camp, maybe.”
“Maybe?’
“I’ve never been to summer camp.”
Wade eyed me. “We’ll come back to that, and I expect a better description than summer camp. What did they do to you? You seem pretty okay?”
More than okay.
As I lay in bed trying to sleep last night, I’d recalled more of the blurring moments in the river. The stones scraping at my ankles. Yanking and clawing and being crushed.
Where were the scratches and bruises? My skin was unbroken and smooth.
Not a single scratch.
“One of the Luthers turned into a wolf in front of me,” I found myself saying. “I thought I was going to die.”
Rounding the table, Wade enveloped me in his arms.
“You were scared, baby girl,” he hushed, rocking me.
Fat tears leaked out. “Yes.”
I still was. Sascha was stalking me. He turned into a wolf. None of this made human sense.
Wade hushed me until the ringing of my phone interrupted us. Untangling myself, I sniffed, answering.
“Hello?”
“Andie, Roy here. Look, I’ve just arrived for the open home. The windows are smashed again.”
I closed my eyes. “How long have we got until the open home?”
“Around three minutes. I’ve boarded the windows with sale signs and cleared up the glass. I’ll make an excuse to the viewers, but this kind of thing doesn’t look… well, safe.”
“I understand. I think my ex is doing it. We broke up last Saturday.”
Wade crossed his arms.
“Might I recommend that you call the police?” Roy said. “At least register the problem. They may be able to monitor the area sometimes.”
“Good idea. I’ll ring the insurance company again first thing tomorrow morning.”
I hung up, dropping my head into my hands.
“Do I need to hurt someone for you?” Wade asked conversationally
He’d definitely kick Logan’s stupid ass.
Ordering a hit on my ex was tempting, but I’d regret murdering him, or anyone, tomorrow. “I’m trying to sell Mum’s house, but someone is smashing windows. I’m not sure it’s Logan. But he was pissed, and he knows what a pain this would be for me. I’ll try to call him. The police too. That should scare him off.”
Wade reached across the table, taking my hand. “What about insurance payments?”
I met his grey gaze.
I missed work last night—but there were two days of pay owing to me. After paying another excess and the increased premium, I’d be left without a savings buffer again.
“It’s covered,” I said firmly.
A knock startled us. Wade grabbed for the frequency generator, clicking the side and sliding it out of sight.
I crossed to the door, swinging it wide.
Mistake.
“Hey, Andie.” Leroy bowed slightly. He stilled, nostrils flaring. Over my head, the werewolf stared at Wade.
I blocked the doorway. “Leroy. How can I help you?”
If he didn’t give me his jacket that one time, he’d have a door in his face already.
“Good to see you with pants on.”
Ugh. Thong girl.
“What now?” Wade said at my back.
I could see how that comment could be misconstrued…
“Nothing like that,” I called over my shoulder.
“She calls me Dimples.”
At my flat look, Leroy’s lips twitched. “Sascha wondered if you could play today. We have an event at midday and they specifically asked for you.”
Sure they did. “I have plans.”
I wasn’t going back to The Dens ever.
Leroy searched my hard face. “I’ll pass that on. Have a good day, Andie.”
Wade turned on the frequency generator again. We waited until Leroy was out of sight through the bay windows to talk.
“You need to speak with Herc,” Wade said. “Thanas haven’t entered pack lands for over a century, and he’ll have questions. Plus, based on what I just heard, this changes your position at The Dens, yeah?”
I lowered my head into my hands. “I screwed up.”
“You saved a life. No matter what Grids is, children aren’t part of our feud.”
My shoulders eased. Acceptance of my actions did worry me a little—with the bad blood between the Thanas and Luthers.
“Fine,” I said, blowing out a breath. “If you think it will help.”
Dammit.
Herc would ask far more questions than Wade.
Hairy wrenched to a halt at my approach, bowing.
The bowing was new and had to stop. “Hey.”
His mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “This is all out in the open now, and you’re still going with hey?”
What else was I meant to say?
“I thought you weren’t coming,” he said.
So did I.
Herc convinced me otherwise. If the Luthers still wanted me inside, we should use the advantage. Of course, Herc didn’t fully understand why Sascha would still allow me inside. He’d puzzled over the wolf’s reasoning for a good, long while as I grimaced on the other end.
“A woman is allowed to change her mind,” I shot back.
“Hercules Thana sent you, didn’t he?” Hairy whispered conspiratorially.
I studied the werewolf. “You’re going to enjoy this, aren’t you?”
“Correct. And now we can be properly introduced. I’m Hairy, Beta Luther and proud doorman. You are?”
I filed that information away. “Late.”
He bowed again and drew back the cordon.
Leroy shot me a look when I entered but didn’t say anything as I strode toward him and Mandy at the bar.
“You’re lucky I need money.” I placed my case on the bar.
“Hercules Thana told you to come back, didn’t he?” Leroy asked.
Ugh. “Yeah, but you’re lucky I need money.”
“For the ex-boyfriend who’s smashing windows?” Mandy asked, sliding over a water.
“You’re smiling at me again.” I took the glass.
“I was pissed after being buried alive.”
I lifted a shoulder. “Can’t blame ya. Looked painful.”
The werewolves regarded me.
“I’m Leroy, Alpha Luther and manager of The Dens.” He didn’t bother holding out his hand, opting to bow again.
Mandy bowed n
ext. “I’m Mandy, Delta Luther and head bartender.”
Now that was interesting because Hairy, Mandy, and Leroy were usually glued to Sascha’s side along with two others. Sigma, alpha, beta, delta, gamma, and omega. Did Sascha keep a wolf of each status in his head team on purpose?
Did that help to keep the peace? Or did each wolf view problems in a different way that helped Sascha make objective decisions?
Dang. Herc was right. I needed to be here.
“What’s with the introductions?” I asked. “And stop bowing. It’s weird.”
They smirked.
Leroy replied, “Our noble leader wants the pack to extend you a warm welcome now, well, now we’ve stopped dancing around each other. You’re going through breeding meets with our leader. It is customary for the pack to bow.”
What? To my ovaries?
Custom could kiss my ass.
Shaking my head, I hooked my sax case and water, leaving them grinning at the bar.
I greeted the patrons.
Looked like a snobby party. I caught sight of a 50th Birthday balloon. Best liven it up for the bored members of the family who seemed to number over half.
Adjusting the neck of my sax, I leaped into “Mustang Sally” by Mack Rice. I’d just get this shift over with. A couple of hours, and I’d be free until next Thursday, and it’d mean more cash for me.
Opening my eyes when the song ended, I jumped at Leroy right before me.
“‘Mustang Sally,’” he murmured, consulting the screen of his phone.
He jotted the song title on the bottom of a notepad.
Ending the song with a hasty embellishment, I snatched the book. “What’s this?”
“Every song you’ve ever played,” the wolf answered, bowing.
I ran my eyes over the list. He wasn’t wrong.
Leroy slid his phone away. “It’s much easier now we know there’s an app for it—thanks for that. Sascha had me asking guests before.”
My eyes narrowed. “What’s this for?”
“Sascha thinks studying your songs is the best way to know you better than you know yourself. You’re kind of cagey, no offense.” Leroy plucked the list from my slackened grip.
“That’s what the stalking thing means?” I whispered. Know you better than you know yourself.
My chest tightened at the thought. I didn’t want anyone looking at me, let alone that closely.
Leroy sent me a curious look—like I was the weird one. “It’s up to the individual male to set the tone. Some physically stalk. Others mentally. And others… both.”
Sascha Greyson. That mothershitter. I jabbed a finger at the list. “How long has this gone on for?”
He pursed his lips. “When did you arrive?”
I groaned. “I don’t want to know this shit.”
Untrue. I just wanted it to end.
The blond werewolf smirked. “That’s why Sascha told us to stop hiding what we were doing. He wants you to know that he’s stalking you. Guess the extra challenge makes stalking more intense for him.”
Staring for a second, I brought my sax to my lips and blasted the first notes of “Bad Moon Rising” by Creedence Clearwater Revival in his face.
The werewolf reeled back, and I had a moment of complete satisfaction before he extended his phone again.
Leroy read the song title and his eyes narrowed.
Interpret those fucking lyrics, Greyson.
Was the stalky wolf fucker watching from the shadows? My neck hairs hadn’t risen, so maybe he really wasn’t around.
Leroy retreated as my set extended, but I had no doubt he was lurking somewhere, creeping for his damn boss. I kept my songs as disjointed as possible, kind of hard when I’d purposefully learned these songs because the lyrics meant something to me.
Between the end of this shift and Thursday night, I’d have an entirely new set list revolving around the theme of fuck off.
Finishing my favourite Vance Joy song, I turned for a sip of water, freezing at the plate next to it.
Corrie’s Chocolate Chocos.
I glared toward the bar. Mandy waved, bowing as she smirked.
These same cookies were on the tray of food Sascha brought me this morning. Bastard!
I gritted my teeth, a telltale heat creeping over my jaw.
Leroy didn’t specify the length of the shift, but he gave me a nod about two hours in when the first partygoers started to leave. I withheld the urge to slam my sax into the case, attaching the shoulder strap so I could carry the untouched cookie plate and glass.
Striding to the bar, I slammed both down, and turned away.
Hairy fell into step beside me, clipboard in hand. “Wine or beer?”
I ignored him.
“Don’t worry about that one. Hiking or swimming?”
He grinned at my murderous glare as we reached the entrance of The Dens. The wolf stopped at the door, and I stormed down the street, my hair about to set alight.
“Books or movies?” Hairy hollered.
I was going to kill Sascha Greyson.
21
Monday never felt so normal and good.
I turned the page of Mum’s I’m 14 journal. I’d burned through ages twelve and thirteen.
I got my period three days ago. So that sucks.
Dad and Herc leave the room whenever I talk about it though.
This could come in handy…
Snorting, I set the journal on the bed and opened the Clay app on my phone.
Yeah, the tribe had a password protected app for each grid—a game to learn where the traps were. Because a virtual reality simulation wasn’t enough. Pascal said stewards recruited at fifteen responded best to game-like training. The head team released the new traps into the app each Wednesday morning, so everyone had a few hours to learn where they’d be put in that night’s grid.
I entered a new game on Clay, wrinkle between my brows as I made my way through the grid. This one was a quarry, too, but the terrain wasn’t as sheer and dramatic as the Sandstone playing field. More like rolling hills with steps cut out.
Rhona said it got slippery as hell. Which would usually make our traps really important.
Unfortunately for us, the Luthers had controlled Clay for decades and liked to go through after each battle and dismantle traps we’d set up. Timber had the largest number of traps at two hundred and fifty.
In comparison, Clay had fifty.
Our hour head start was spent checking those traps were functional and adding what we could.
I tapped on the last trap and waited for the app to calculate my score.
100%
I smirked, perching on the edge of the bed and mentally ran through the three manoeuvres learned that morning. I’d practiced them for two hours with Cameron after shooting practice.
Making my bed, I put away Mum’s journals and cleaned the kitchen, stretching as I went to relieve the aches from… well, the origin was uncertain at this point.
Determined to extend my normal morning into a normal day, I called the insurance company to confirm the windows were fixed, then called the police.
It spoke for my life that I considered these tasks normal. May as well speak to Logan while I was at it.
Drawing out my phone, I unblocked his number, holding my thumb over the dial button.
“Open up,” Rhona yelled from the other side of the front door.
I yanked it open. “You gave me a heart attack.”
“We’re going to look at dead people. Want to come?”
What?
Not waiting for an answer, Rhona strode away.
“Will I need anything?” I shouted.
She didn’t answer, and I rushed inside to grab my keys, slamming the door behind me.
She was opening the passenger door when I caught up. Squeezing around her, I dove inside, taking her spot.
Ha!
“Good morning?” Herc said from the driver seat, brow raised.
Smirking at Rhona, I
locked the door.
She narrowed her eyes, sliding into the back of the silver Bentley. “Real mature.”
“So what’s this about seeing dead people?” I asked. “That’s not true, right?”
Even if it was, I’d take this over calling Logan—though dead people did blur the parameters of my normal day.
Herc frowned at Rhona in the rear-view mirror. “That’s disrespectful.”
A whatever was her reply.
He shook his head. “I’m showing Rhona around our ancestral burial grounds today, and I thought you may like to join us. We can visit your grandmother and grandfather—and many more of our relations. We can trace back ten generations—and further still from rudimentary drawings and artwork that depicts where the leaders lay through the valley. Though some burial grounds are nameless.”
I clipped my belt. “That sounds really cool actually. Thanks for thinking of me.”
“You’re a Thana,” Herc replied solemnly.
My chest filled with a warmth I almost believed.
Almost.
“How about a leadership question to pass the time?” he said.
I laughed as Rhona groaned dramatically in the back seat.
“Please no,” she muttered.
Herc led us down the road to Lake Thana. “The Luthers introduced a new strategy during the last grid. You need to plan a counterattack, form fresh strategies, organise urgent repairs and replacements for equipment, monitor the state of your stewards, and still have time for your family. How do you manage your time?”
I settled back. That’s impossible for one person.
“There are teams for all that,” Rhona said, staring out the window.
“Yes. How do you utilise and manage those teams?”
“They know their jobs,” she answered. “Next question.”
“Andie?”
I was a pro at time management after the free course Mum put me through. “When are all family members free? I’d set time aside daily for them first. From there, an order of equipment may need to include weapons or materials for new strategies. The top strategies will need to be decided on first, and I’d then order whatever is needed to allow for delivery time. I’d delegate members from the head team to join the current teams to continue developing our new strategies.” I couldn’t recall what the teams were. “At the end of each day, head team members will report to me and we’d decide on the direction for the next day. As this continued, I’d use my days to visit our grids and stewards. Perhaps it would be beneficial to appoint several stewards as go-to people. Other stewards could take matters to them first.”
Shifter Wars: Supernatural Battle (Werewolf Dens Book 1) Page 22
