by C. P. Rider
I looked over my shoulder at him. "Then why did you say that?"
"Because I got the ring in the king bread."
"Rosca de Reyes," I corrected. "You really said it because of the bread? That's so cute—"
"Silencio, woman. You got your condition. Now let me do this."
"Silence? Really? I'm not teaching you any more Spanish words." I smiled to myself, because I knew I was lying. I kind of liked it when he broke out the Spanglish. "All right. I have no idea what I'm doing, though."
"Just tell yourself to let me heal you."
I scrunched my eyes closed and tried to concentrate. "I don't think it's working."
Lucas carefully removed the bandage and set it on the nightstand. "This wound is nearly healed. It won't hurt me. On my body, this wouldn't last a minute."
"Really?"
"Yes. The witches' charms have worked … well."
I snickered. "Did it hurt to admit that?"
"Shut up and let me heal you, smart ass."
I shut my eyes. He said it wouldn't hurt him to heal my wound, so there was no reason not to allow him to help me. He wanted to help me. It would make him feel better.
Warmth spread through my body, blossoming from my neck outward.
"Holy shit, it worked," Lucas yelled.
I stuck my finger in my ear. "Great. Now you can heal my broken eardrum."
"Sorry. I got excited."
"Let me see." I rubbed my hand over my healed neck. "Whoa. And your neck?" I sat up and pushed him face down on the pillow. As I watched, the wound healed from the outside in, cinching up like a drawstring pouch.
"Thank you." I lay back down. "Don't heal my headache. It's a bad one."
"I'm sorry." He lifted my fingers to his lips, kissed each one. When he finished, he lay back on my pillow and tucked me into his side, my head and arm on his chest, one leg flung over his. "There was nothing I would not have done to get you out of that sanctuary. You understand that, right?"
"Yes." I pulled his fingers to my lips and kissed him back. "I knew you'd come for me. You always do."
"Neely, I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you. Stop talking dirty."
A surprised laugh bubbled out of me. "I love you."
"Good. Now let me heal the headache."
"No. It's part of my ability. I have to learn how to deal with it on my own." I stroked over his nipple with my fingertip and smiled at the goosebumps that pricked his skin in response to my touch. "Just like I have to deal with the addiction that hits me when I spike."
"What about the addiction? How did you deal with that part when you were spiking Roso?"
"The second I felt it creeping up on me, I'd take a break and wait until I had control again. My dad encouraged me to eat something or take a drink of water to break the spell, so to speak. It helped."
"Funny how he knew to do that," Lucas said.
"I had the same thought." I sighed. "I'm going to Texas soon to have it out with him once and for all. I have to know the truth about my past."
"I can understand that."
Lucas worked the muscles in my shoulders with his thumbs and I purred like Lestat. "That feels nice."
"Sleep. You were up all night."
"So were you."
"I can go longer without it." He picked up my hair, wrapped a curl around his finger. "Don't think anymore. Rest your mind."
"Okay." My eyes drifted shut. The headache wasn't as bad as it should have been, which made me think Lucas had ignored me and taken on some of the pain. I decided to let him get away with it this time. "Stay with me. Please."
He brushed his lips over the top of my head. "Sugar cookie, I'm not going anywhere."
Chapter Thirty-Seven
More than a week had passed since I'd spiked my ex into an amnesiac state. My dad had called to let me know that Julio was doing well, still remembered nothing, and was on his way out of the country. He also sent me photos of my mother that he'd found online. She'd gone to a traditional human school, and there was a website where people uploaded their high school yearbooks and you could pay to access the information in them.
In the photo—a half-body senior picture—she was smiling broadly with real joy that sparkled her eyes and lifted her shoulders. One of her front teeth had a tiny chip on the corner, and it made her smile unique and endearing. Her hair was exactly like mine, a froth of chestnut brown curls that trailed down her back. I had my dad's eyes and skin color, but I had her cheekbones, nose, and mouth, and the shape of our face was the same.
Below her photo it said she was involved in choir, the student newspaper, and had been a cheerleader for two years. Her goal was to go to college, meet a nice man, and have lots of children. I noticed a lot of the other girls said the same thing. Pat yearbook response in those days, I supposed.
I printed out her picture and put it in an old frame I found at my uncle's house. I hung it on the wall in my apartment since I'd already taken down the ofrenda in the café. Next year, she would go on it. My stand-in mom, Alma Lopez, too. If I'd known Alma was dead, I'd have put her on this year. I had a photo of the two of us tucked away in a box in the closet.
Sometimes I got angry when I looked at the photo of my real mom, sometimes it just made me sad. I wished I could have known her.
Today was Monday, which meant I was giving Ana Cortez another baking lesson. She and I were going to make mantecadas. I hadn't yet perfected my uncle's recipe, but I'd been experimenting with flavors all week and landed on one I liked. A couple days ago, Ana and I had made conchas with pink topping. She was a natural baker and a joy in the kitchen. Tío José would have loved her—and he would have loved the idea of me teaching her to bake the way he'd taught me.
La Buena Suerte Panaderia wasn't open for business yet, but I was getting there. Next week the rest of my windows and my new display cases would arrive and I'd be able to set up shop again. I could hardly wait.
The front door swung open, the old bell knocking against the glass. It wasn't quite time for Ana to arrive, so I went into the café to see who it was.
"Tellis?"
He was in human form, but I'd recognize the wolf shifter anywhere. The last time I saw him, he'd been nearly dead, and his eyes had been gold instead of blue. He was still too thin and there were burn scars that stood out against the pale white skin of his neck and on his arms, but he looked so much better, it was like a miracle. I'd bet my bakery that Lucas had been healing him. Probably without letting Tellis know he was doing it.
"Yes, ma'am. I came by to thank you for what you did for me back at the sanctuary." He swallowed, and his Adam's apple bobbed up and down in his neck. He was younger than I'd first thought, no more than twenty. "I didn't exactly show you my best manners in there."
"You're welcome. And I'm just Neely, not ma'am."
"Okay, Neely."
"Look, Tellis, I know you blame Fiera, but she—"
"We talked on the way here. Things were … complicated in that place." He dragged his hand through his longish silver hair. "I get that now. I'm just glad to have made it out of there alive."
"Me, too. Are you going to stay in Sundance?"
"For a while, at least. Alpha Blacke said it was okay." He looked around. "You, uh, wouldn't happen to be looking for a part-timer, would you?"
"That depends. Can you bake?"
"I've never made anything from scratch, but I was good at chemistry in high school and I took a cooking course my first year of college. Just basic stuff. My dad passed away when I was seventeen and he was all the family I had. I figured if I didn't want to starve, I should learn to cook for myself. I wasn't half bad at it."
Tellis smiled then, and it transformed his entire face. He looked younger, sweeter, and I instantly decided I would figure out a way to hire him or find someone in town who would. I wanted to replace the image in my head of a beaten young man dying on the floor of a sanctuary with this strong young man and his self-deprecating, kind smile.
&n
bsp; "What did you study in college?"
"I was just doing my general education, for lack of anything better to do. Worked at a gas station. I had a scholarship because my dad was a disabled Vietnam vet. He was fifty when I was born, in case you were wondering."
"And a wolf shifter, so…"
He gave me another smile. "We age well."
"So, I hear." I indicated the bakery with a sweep of my hand. "It's not functional, and I can't pay you much right now, but if you want to help me get it put back together and running, I'd appreciate it."
"I'd like that. My dad was a construction foreman and I spent summers working with him. I know a thing or two about carpentry."
I caught myself before I said my dad had worked in construction, too. My dad had lied about his work my entire life. I still wasn't sure about everything he did, but I knew it wasn't construction. Damn him.
"Carpentry skills are definitely a plus around here. I'm giving a mantecada baking lesson in about five minutes. Would you like to join us?"
"Sure. Who else is coming?"
"Me." Ana Cortez strolled through the front door. Her black hair was pulled into a braid and she was ready to work in sneakers, jeans, and a vintage Queen concert T-shirt. "Hey, Tel."
Tellis's entire demeanor changed when Ana walked into the café. His smile faltered and a light pink blush colored the edges of his face. "Hi, Ana."
"You two know each other?"
"Yeah." Tellis shoved one fist into the front pocket of his jeans and rocked back on his heels. "Mrs. Cortez has been helping me recover from the silver poisoning."
"Dolores said something about that." I glanced at Ana. "She's one of the tower witches."
"I know. My mom buys herbs from Miss Dolores and Miss Dottie. She put their lavender in the medicine she gave Tellis."
The young wolf shifter raked his hand through his silver hair. "Some of the side effects are permanent. But Mrs. Cortez has helped me a lot."
"Mom's really good at dealing with silver." Ana beamed, her dark brown eyes shining with pride. "My sister was once shot in the back with silver buckshot by wolves in the old Malcolm pack and my mom nursed her back to health. Lupita doesn't even have noticeable scars."
Tellis touched the burn marks on the side of his face. I was pretty sure it was an unconscious move.
Ana noticed. Quickly, she said, "Not that it would matter. Scars are cool. They show you've survived whatever it was that tried to hurt you."
The blush crept up on Tellis's cheeks again. "Should I wash my hands before we start, Neely?"
"Yes. And put on a hairnet. There's a box by the back door. Sink's right through that doorway."
He nodded and headed into the kitchen, Ana trailing behind him.
We baked for a couple of hours. Tellis and Ana both proved to be excellent apprentice bakers. They left around one o'clock with a dozen mantecadas each. Once they were gone, I decided to try my hand at my uncle's bolillos, which were similar to French baguettes, only shorter and wider.
My long-term plan was to sell the sandwich rolls to select restaurants in La Paloma, the way my uncle had, and maybe to the Dusty Cactus, Bienvenidos Diner, and Sundance Auto for sale in the minimart there. Possibly Sundance Grocery.
My short-term plan was to make tortas, Mexican sandwiches, for Lucas and Chandra for dinner. I owed Chandra for putting in my new security system. The one I didn't ask for, but that both Lucas and Chandra insisted I have.
I'd already whipped up some cheater barbacoa—which was basically a chuck roast thrown into a crockpot with my tío's special blend of spices. Not traditional barbacoa, but still tasty. It had been cooking on low for hours. I figured if the bolillos were a bust, I could always get out some masa and make some corn tortillas. Thank God I'd gone into La Paloma with Chandra this past week to shop.
A few minutes later, the bread dough was rising on baking trays and the kitchen was clean. I had just perched on the kitchen stool with a freshly made cherry cola, when someone banged on the back door. Lucas wasn't due for hours and Chandra was out of town until six, so it wasn't anyone I was expecting. I reached out with my ability.
Another goddamn alpha.
"Spiker," the alpha yelled as he burst through my new back door.
"In here."
Two male coyotes in hybrid form—one alpha, one beta—stormed into the café where I was seated at a table with my feet up and my cherry cola in hand. I figured if they were going to start something, they may as well start it in the café. That way I wouldn't have to clean the kitchen again.
"You killed Alpha Gold," the beta coyote announced. "Our alpha."
"Yep."
My response seemed to fluster the coyote. "You admit it?"
"What do I gain by denying it? She attacked me first, you know."
"We are here to avenge her." The alpha coyote stood, arms akimbo, on the spot where the display cases used to be. "A death for a death."
My table was across from him on the other side of the room. I'd kept my back to a wall instead of a window. Proof that I had learned something from Chandra.
"If you leave now and never return, I won't kill you." I took a drink, shook the ice in my cup. "You can even tell your pack you roughed me up. I won't rat you out."
"That's not a choice," the beta said. "A death for a death, that's what we we're here for."
"Then I'm going to kill you." I set my gaze on the beta wolf's face as I drew more energy from him. I'd been taking it from them both since I first read them. "I'm already in your head, Foster."
The coyote's jaw hung open. "How do you know my name?"
I pursed my lips. "I'm starting to think you two don't actually understand what a telepathic spiker does."
The alpha coyote—his name was Charles and he collected rare gemstones, which was an odd thing for him to be thinking about, but we didn't always get to choose our thoughts—didn't bother with any more talk. He let out a loud growl and lunged at me, claws extended.
I spiked.
Charles froze mid-leap. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, his jaw flopped open, and he voided his bowels.
Calmly, I turned my head, setting my full concentration on Foster. "A death for a death, right?"
The beta looked down at the dead alpha and then back up at me. "You're a monster."
There was a time when being called that would have undone me. It had once been my biggest fear, being changed into a monster. But things were different now. I was still a good person. But sometimes good people had to temporarily become monsters in order to fight the real monsters of the world.
"Yeah, I am." I rose beside the table, matching the disdain in the coyote's gaze with a heaping dose of my own. "Remember that the next time you think about coming around here threatening me."
The coyote scooped up the body of his partner and left.
I cleaned the café floor, then returned to the kitchen to wash my hands and check on my bolillos. They were perfect little cylinders of dough.
Lucas's voice spilled into my head.
So, I'm going to be a little early for dinner. Hope that's okay.
Works for me, I thought back at him.
Good. He opened the back door. The smile faded from his mouth as he sniffed the air. "You okay?"
"Yes." I grabbed a butcher knife from a nearby drawer.
He brushed past me and stormed into the café. Then he stormed back. "Coyotes?"
"Alpha Gold's coyotes." The knife made a perfect line down the center of each roll. "I spiked one dead and let the other live so he could take his story back to his pack. Maybe dissuade the others from trying to kill or kidnap me."
Lucas's mouth dropped open. "Neely?"
"Hang on." I set the knife on the counter and grabbed some ice cubes from the freezer. "For a crispier crust. Tío José swore by this method." I tossed them on the bottom of the oven, then loaded the rolls and set the timer to ten minutes. It was more like eleven in this oven, but I wanted to keep an eye on them for that la
st minute.
"You killed someone? Just now?"
"Yes. But only because he tried to kill me first."
"Fair enough." Lucas stood in the doorway leading into the café. "Uh, are you really okay?"
"No." I leaned against the worktable and crossed my arms. Sighed. "I'm a little warm, my lower back is sore from standing all day, and I could use a drink."
Not to be out-cooled by the likes of me, Lucas folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "But other than that, you're okay?"
"Yeah." I straightened, went to the sink, and washed the knife. "Would you like something sweet with your dinner?"
"Yes. I want cookies. Do you still want me to stay?"
"Yes."
"It's only that I, well, I thought you might need some time to process things," Lucas said, ending it with a sort of helpless flourish.
"Nope. I'm good."
"Should I go upstairs? Do you need to be alone, or—"
"Lucas, I'm fine." I grabbed a clean towel, dried the knife, and put it away. "The truth is, things are going to change around here. I will no longer be afraid of being drugged by alphas. If an unknown shifter enters my bakery, he, she, or they are getting read. If they're even considering harming me or anyone I care about, they're getting spiked. Dead. I am done with pretending to be someone I am not."
Lucas's forehead creased. "You know there will be repercussions. You care about people, Neely. You're not going to be able to do these things without paying for it in one way or another."
"My whole life is a repercussion. I can deal with it, don't worry."
He tugged me into his arms. "Not alone, okay?"
There were going to be things I would need to do alone. Difficult things. Things even the mighty prehistoric Smilodon shifter couldn't help me with, no matter how much he wanted to. No matter how much I wanted him to.
But not today. Today I had Lucas.
I rested my head against his chest and closed my eyes, let him hold me.
"Okay. Not alone."
Also by C. P. Rider
SPIKED
SUMMONED
