by Elle Lincoln
As doors creek open, I push the seat forward and inhale my first breath of fresh, mountain air. It seems silly, since I’ve been out here in the mountains for weeks with these guys. But this air? This air smells like home. Maybe it won’t smell different to anyone else but to me, I can taste the hint of cinnamon rolls on the air. I can feel the cold, ice tea gliding down my throat.
My eyes burn with the feel of home.
The guys are quiet. The world is at peace up here, and the main reason I hate that peace rests just down the dirt road to the small family plot. I choke on my emotions, letting them ache in my bones before I dismiss them.
“Alright.” I take a deep breath. “Let’s go.” Casseus grips my hand once again and Mac takes the other. Their mute support speaks more than anything and is as loud as rushing tsunami.
But before we can get too far, a body rushes into me from behind and I land on the ground with a hard “oomph.” Then the telltale sound of a loading shotgun splits the air and the rest of the guys follow to the ground.
We’ve encountered ruthless Fae, wolves, and even Fae that can kill you with a touch, but nothing can prepare me for the little old woman standing off to our right with a raised shotgun. Freaking southerners.
“Grandma,” I gasp, while trying to breathe. “Logan get off of me, it’s my grandma.”
“I don’t know if you are aware of this, but your grandma just tried to shoot you.” His voice is less than amused.
I try to wiggle out from under him, but he’s built like a freaking brick house. “I can’t breathe.”
He huffs before rolling off. I don’t miss the nasty look Balor gives him. Wolf senses, man. How he heard her silent steps is beyond me, she always was as quiet as a cat. Panther maybe.
“Grandma,” I try again.
“I ain’t got no grandkids.” She reloads.
“You do, I swear it. Just look at me!” Oh hell, she’s gonna shoot me. “Back get back!”
We all roll, jump, and wrestle each other for cover just as the gun splits the air once more and the truck rocks. The sound of metal screams in my ears and bits of dirt pelt me from under the frame.
“Grandma!” I need to defuse this quickly. Balor is looking at me like he’ll ash my grandma with that eye of his. And Patrick, the crazy fucker, is chortling. Until now I didn’t even know what that meant. He finds this all hilarious. I glare at him.
“My kinda woman!” He wags his brows.
“Oh, gross.”
“Not like that.”
“You’ve got two seconds to get off my property!” Not gonna happen.
“Remember the night I set the old cabin on fire? We had to rebuild?”
She lets out a loud huff. “Was in the papers! My girl is dead!”
“No, she’s right here.” The ring. “I have Mom’s ring!” I twist the gold band around my finger. Feeling its weight, the only thing that came with me from my previous life.
“What’s it say?” I hear her footsteps shuffling closer, but I know her. She is a devious old bat. She’d walk around just to cleave our heads off. The woman has no fear.
“A soul,” I begin, just as she shuffles closer, “is more than just a body.”
Her thin frame shadows the six of us. One hand is propped on her hip and the other is holding the shotgun. I tentatively smile at her as she takes me in. She grunts and walks away.
“Well. That was anticlimactic,” Casseus notes.
“Anticlimactic? She shot at us!” Mac’s voice is louder, his eyes wild. I grimace a bit. There was no was to prepare them for her kind of crazy. It’s like introducing your lover to a tornado. Uncontrollable.
“I like her.” Patrick gets up and follows the old woman up to the porch.
I rub my temples. “Balor. Do you have any pants for Logan?” Seriously, we are a damn mess. We need a bug out bag in the back of the truck. For as often as we lose clothes, it would be seriously helpful. We aren’t even losing clothes for fun reasons.
Balor grunts before pulling out another kilt from behind the back seat. Honestly, I didn’t even know that was back there.
“You coming in?” Grandma’s voice calls out to me. I should feel happy, content, but I don’t. My stomach is a bundle of nerves and I’m worried. For what? I don’t even have an answer to that.
“Yeah,” I mumble.
“Speak up girl!” Patrick laughs as he bounds up behind Grandma and into my childhood home.
I hope she turned my room into a gym or a library or something. Shit. No one needs to see the posters of boy bands on my wall, or the little hearts engraved into my desk with initials of boys I never made a move on in high school.
I roll my shoulders and prepare to face the inquisition, because that is exactly what is about to happen. Mac and Casseus speed up, their faces full of interest for this sneak peek into my past. I’m not thrilled about it, but I’ll let them have their fun. I guarantee Grandma and Patrick are already bonding over a glass of scotch. Logan and Balor are still behind me while Balor mutters about wolves in kilts. It makes me smile, but I know I’m just dragging my feet. Literally. Avoiding what is about to come. My boots echo with thuds on the wooden porch steps. One. Two. Three. Four.
My body tingles with my extreme nervousness. I hadn’t been here for about a month before I died. No matter what was going on in my life, my Grandma never judged me. She listened while sipping her bourbon, her eyes lost in my story. She never had much to say about my grumblings. Nothing besides a ‘get your shit together Bee.’
I never listened. Not once. I should have, but then again if I had would I be where I am today? With these guys who are growing on me like parasites? I doubt it.
I just hope she can forgive me for not coming to her right away. At least after I got back. Damn, this is all kinds of fucked-up. Isn’t there a rule that you can’t return to your family after becoming something other? Or are those just the rules I made up in my head?
I stare at the screen door. Laughter echoes out from inside and my feet pause on the landing. My hand shakes as I reach out. The slow creak assaults my ears as I open the door.
My throat chokes up as the scent of chocolate chip cookies drifts over to me. The sounds of glasses clinking onto a marble countertop prove that the scotch is out and the guys are enjoying the warmth my grandma has to offer.
As I slip back into myself, I take in the cabin’s appearance. Nothing has changed. I don’t know what I expected. Maybe something completely different.
Rustic wood floors still hold the scuff marks and dents of my childhood. Well, after I set the first cabin on fire, that is—I burned the other wooden floor crispy. Directly ahead of me is a sitting area with floor to ceiling windows that overlook the valley below. The windows themselves are actually doors that open to the wrap around porch. To my left is a spiral staircase that takes you up to the bedrooms and bathrooms. And hidden around the wooden pillars is the kitchen I’m struggling to get to. I know what I’ll see there—marble countertops in tones of warm, light tones, with dark cabinets and recessed lighting to make you feel perfectly comfortable.
Rolling my eyes at myself, I walk forward and see Grandma laughing with Patrick, Cas, and Mac, who are each devouring a cookie and holding a glass of liquor. I walk toward them, my legs feeling like lead.
But as I look at my Grandma’s delicate face, I see nothing but warmth there and perhaps a hint of curiosity. Hell, I’d be curious too if my granddaughter showed up with five guys in tow. Especially when said granddaughter never once brought a guy home. It didn’t suit my playgirl ways.
She gives me a grin and picks up a glass and a cookie, holding it out to me like the fabled olive branch. I grip the glass, my knuckles turning white, and down the contents then set it back on the counter. Grandma has one brow raised in question.
“Alright kid, let’s talk.” Those words send a pulse of anxiety through me. Amazing how coming home and facing your parents, or in my case guardian who is my grandma, always makes you feel like
a child again. I hope I’m not alone in this.
“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” I cringe at my blatant display of an attempt at ignorance. I know I’m not fooling anyone here.
“Well, for one, you disappeared for over a year. Declared dead. Then you show up with a damn werewolf.” She points a long, gnarled finger at Logan behind me.
My brain sputters out. I’m pretty sure she just said werewolf, but I could be imagining things. I’m not sure yet. She was never one to beat around the bush. I look at the guys who are all wearing the exact same expression I am. Confirmed, Grandma said werewolf.
Her smile is all teeth and I’m wondering if she herself is a werewolf. “You don’t live in these woods as long as I have without learning a thing or two.”
“Well, that was unexpected.” It’s all I can come up with. I’m going to need more scotch. Maybe the whole damn bottle.
“What I don’t know is what these other four are or what you’ve gone and done to yourself.” She crosses her arms and stands tall, all five foot four inches of herself. We are the same height, but at that moment I felt like shrinking back. She’s like a grandmasaurous. It’s downright terrifying.
“I—” My words are cut off by Patrick’s laughter. His freckled face is a rosy hue and he can’t seem to catch his breath.
An ache begins behind my temples and I think I’m slowly losing my mind.
“Well, I’ll go first.” Patrick stands, his shirt dirty and full of holes, his dress pants fairing no better, and I can’t help but wonder what exactly my grandma is thinking with this lot. First impressions are everything and the werewolf showed up naked. Not a great way for things to start. “I’m Patrick O’Flannery.” He leans in after shaking her hand, the other hand cupping his mouth as he whispers, “I’m a Leprechaun.”
Grandma leans back and away from him, unimpressed. Then, just as quiet and condescending, she replies, “But you aren’t a midget.”
Patrick doesn’t even flinch, he only laughs, grabs another cookie, and takes his seat back. One by one they all make their way over to Grandma, introducing themselves with a bit of blush and humor. I watch her the entire time, taking it all in. My stomach flutters each time a guy comes up to her.
Lastly, Logan makes his approach. Grandma’s eyes light up as she takes in Logan from head to toe. Her brows draw together, then it’s like a light bulb goes off and her eyes light up. She lets out the most girlish giggle I’ve ever heard out of her mouth.
“Well boy, you’ve grown some since I last saw you!” She engulfs Logan in a hug. His face is red but delighted, his dimples showing through his scruff in the cutest way possible.
He leans back, looking down on her in wonder. “You remember me!”
Well, I’d like to know what the hell is going on, that’s for damn sure, because I don’t remember Logan. Not at all. Unless I missed some part of my childhood, I don’t recall playing with a gorgeous brown-eyed boy. I’m missing something. The others just take it in stride. They have all wandered off, looking at pictures and the past that is immortalized in frames and plaques.
“Of course! I’ve been dealing with your pack for years! I never forget a face.” Her lips purse and she shakes her head. “Until the last few years when you all but vanished from the area.”
“Umm hello.” I raise my hand like a child in kindergarten. “Wanna fill me in?”
“Don’t you remember Logan? Or his brother Landon?” She pats his face fondly like they are long-lost friends. Well, who am I to judge, maybe they are.
“Yeah that is a nope from my memory.” I know my brain got scrambled a few times over the last year and a half, but I’m pretty sure a werewolf would stick out.
Logan turns to me. “I believe you called me puppy.”
I look at him, my head falling to the side. I’m viewing him crookedly, running through my past. Until... “Holy Shit.” I did remember him. He was just never a boy. Ever. I turn to Grandma, my mouth opening and closing in that fish impression I do so well.
“My only rule. They stay in wolf form around the house. I didn’t need you playing with a naked boy, even if you did that enough as an adult.” Her chin lowers and her brows draw together. My face twists up, but not in shame, oh no. Just that she knew of my exploits. Bet this looks just as bad. I’ve essentially shown up on her doorstep dead and with a harem.
I scratch the back of my neck. “Right then. So those two dogs I thought were our...” My arms fly out shaking back and forth as words fail me and my hand gestures take over.
Unbelievable.
“Yep! So I’m not completely surprised you show up here with a bunch of others,” she says, emphasizing the last word in a secretive whisper. As if I don’t already know what they are. Oh Grandma, I do, I really do.
“So, are we good to hide out here until we have a plan?” I haven’t explained what I am yet. but by the way she eyed Casseus during his explanation, I know she has already made her assumptions.
“Hell no, you can’t hide out here.” I bite my knuckles, and even Logan moves away from her, his expression turning sour. I’m right there with him.
“Why?” I draw the word out, needing to understand her hesitation and face it head on with a proper counterargument.
“There ain’t much that can scare a werewolf. When they disappeared, the woods went quiet. It ain’t been the same since. I know something is going on. Staying here won’t be safe for me.” Of all the selfish replies I’ve ever heard.
My face is frowning so hard my cheeks hurt. I never said any of this would be safe, but I thought... I thought you could always go home. Return to that safe haven.
Her cackle brings me out of my internal struggle for a good debate. “Oh, the look on your face is priceless. Of course, you can stay here. You can even have your old room. One more thing, what happened to your eyes?”
I really and truly thought coming here would be a good thing, but I’m not so sure about that now.
Chapter 10
Logan
Out of Place
There are few things in this world that make me uneasy. The Fae are definitely at the top of that list. Another just so happens to be the situation that has played out before me over the last handful of hours.
I went from one prison directly into another. Bound by the Fae in my wolf form for years, made to do their bidding, hunt for them, stalk for them. Memories of my actions leave a sour taste in my mouth. Then one day I’m free. I’m no alpha, barely a beta, but I’ve tried my best over the years. Still, it was a slap in the face to know I went under their control so easily, just by a goddamn psychic link. My relationship to the pack is now strained, my brother is a fucking traitor, and the beautiful woman before me doesn’t even know who I am. Even if she only saw me as a pup, I had some hope for recognition.
Even worse, she didn’t even look at me as a man. I was naked for hours and not one sneak peek. The woman has the willpower of steel.
Unless she didn’t even see anything she likes. Foolish, sure, but my thoughts cannot be tamed. Except I’ve wanted that girl since childhood. And I still do, if my dick has anything to say about it. And he does. He has enough to say about the entire situation. The bastard.
It’s enough to make a patient man broody. And that is exactly where I am right now. Seeing Willa again, though comforting, leaves an ache in my chest for my home. A home I don’t even have anymore. I long for the fur to sprout from my skin and the freedom of running through the woods. The feel of soft, spring grass under my feet and my claws digging into the mud. I crave all of it.
Yet I’m stuck here, fulfilling the debts my one sibling has accrued. I want to despise him, but he is all I have left in this world. The Fae made sure of that.
I clench my fists, my need to punch something nearly overwhelming me.
I back away from Willa with my shoulders hunched. Bette is talking to her about sleeping arrangements. She doesn’t look thrilled about having to sleep in her own room.
I’m
fine to sleep outside as a damn wolf. Anything is better than feeling like an outcast, which is exactly what I am right now.
“Come on pup.” I jerk my head over to the big motherfucker. Balor, I believe his name is. “Let’s talk.”
I don’t want to talk to them. The only people I’m even remotely interested in talking to are Willa and Bette, and they have already dismissed me as towels are being passed out. I don’t even know when I last took a shower. Maybe I smell like wet dog to them. Which only makes me angrier. Fuck them. I ignore Balor and turn to the window, watching the skyline turn from shades of reds to purples as the swell of dusk fades.
“Now, kid.” The brute grabs my elbow and steers me out the front door. He’s yanking me behind his oversized body. My feet stumble, but he isn’t bothering to ease up. If anything, his grip gets even tighter just as my annoyance grows.
He leads me, or rather drags me, to a clearing near a tree line I used to hide in while watching Bette play. I never thought it was creepy back then, but now that I think about it, it’s a little creepy.
He lets go with a shove and I stumble to keep my balance. “What the hell?”
“You need to get your shit together.” He cracks his neck to one side, and I swear to the moon goddess his body grows in size. Just who is this fucker?
I roll my shoulders, standing up to him, though I don’t even come close to his height. “I’m fine.” Which isn’t true, but I grind the words out and it only makes me sound anything but fine. I don’t bother correcting myself. I’m stuck with these guys, I may as well make their lives as impossible as mine has become, just because I can.
“You aren’t.” He braces his hands on his hips while he stares me down. That one, cold, icy blue eye sees right through me and it makes me uncomfortable as hell. The other? Why the fuck is it covered with an eye patch? “How old are you?”
What kind of question is that? “Twenty-six.”
He huffs before running his hands through his dreadlocked hair. He’s mumbling under his breath, I only catch bits and pieces, but for the most part, it’s about them sending him a puppy instead of a wolf.
