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“And Rhetta?”
“Haven't heard from her or Jaz since their flight landed in Dallas.” The alpha seemed troubled, crossing her arms. “They betrayed pack integrity. They tore us apart. You haven't. There’s someone else who needs a stable home, and you're perfect for each other.”
I met Cal's brown eyes. “Hmm?”
“You and Mila.” As if sensing my surprise, she added, "Don't be thinking you can run with Harlowe because his brother was foaming at the mouth and got you.” She didn’t know Caelan had bitten me first; no one did, except maybe August. “Reapers aren’t allowed to turn humans. Their mates are carefully chosen among a select population. Don't believe Harlowe when he claims you can be his. He’s prime bloodstock and you’re no better than a mutt in the eyes of the Otherworld.”
“I know,” I insisted, feeling flush.
“You better.” She made her way into the hall. “You and Mila are both young werewolves. Learn together. Be a family. Be my family. I can give you a life away from this.”
I traced the edge of the passport. “How?”
The alpha waved a hand at the supposed replica sunflower painting. “I could use someone on the inside, someone with knowledge in the field. One job with the Koi and you'll never have to worry about Mila's college tuition. If you won't think of yourself, think of what you could do for her.”
In the end Cal had to run and get the kids from a friends', so I invited her to a small lunch on Saturday with Lisa, Wyatt, and Caelan.
We stepped into daylight, where I tucked the envelope under my functional arm. “Hey, how long were you conscious during the fight?”
“Instant knockout, sugar. You were cold in the ash when I regained consciousness. I thought I was the sole survivor.”
“Do you remember a cat?”
“A cat?”
I took that as a 'no.' “Did you smell any around?”
She gave me a puzzled frown. “We were in a lion's den, sugar, and I was pinned like an entomologist's butterfly.”
???
For the rest of the week, I cleaned the house and slept, but not without Gram’s revolver on my nightstand and the silvered blade, as a precaution, carefully concealed in a patch sewn inside the arm sling I used with my cast. I collected cat toys and an unopened bag of food to donate to a local animal shelter. Every day I woke up was more of the same ache, the same misery, the same medication, the same sickness in the pit of my stomach that I was now the thing that had torn my family apart. One night, I even cut my thumb on the silver blade from Zakar's shop. It stung and blood splattered my sink, but there was no burn, no smoky hiss or itch beneath the skin to suggest the metal was a problem.
By Saturday, my arm still burned, and the raw blisters on my chest had receded but stung when I moved the wrong way. Showering, or my pathetic struggle to, was a nightmare.
And it didn't help that Zakar would settle into the shadows, offering again to fetch the necromancer in exchange for a gentle pat on the head…
But the person whose touch I wanted, missed, craved, rsvp’d to my invite but kept our communication minimal.
When he showed up Saturday morning, toting a vase of flowers and an apology, he never came within more than a foot of me. I wanted to ask him about it, but Cal popped in with Mila and Aiden, then Lisa and Wyatt arrived soon after.
???
The alpha left early. She had was hosting a pack meeting to vote on how to proceed: who was coming out to the world now that the Otherworld’s secrets were coming to light, who preferred not to, and what that meant.
The rest of us sat on the back deck in the warm afternoon as the sun angled into the trees. Cal hadn't been gone five minutes, when Lisa leaned forward and asked if our neighbor was a werewolf. After the Nokhurst Crossing incident, she'd put two and two together and deduced the pelt on our step belonged to a werewolf, and my rambling about dogs meant Stephen hadn't been a lone wolf.
Caelan entertained her questions, stopping short of identifying himself. He gave me no small amount of praise for my help in the murder investigation (which to him was unsolved but not to the Otherworld), but asked Lisa if she'd limit sharing her knowledge as there were still some mysteries to resolve as far as who truly ran him down.
Had Rhetta been the ivory flash I’d seen bounding through the side yard after him?
Lisa promised not to out them. They’d been good neighbors and she was moving in a few weeks to New York. Wyatt, while uncomfortable, followed his fiancé’s lead.
At last they made their goodbyes. Caelan and I remained on the back deck. I poured us each a shot of bourbon then creaked into the lawn chair beside him.
“Nice friends,” he said, watching a mourning dove investigate the bird-feeder I hadn't filled in months. The bird fluttered from branch to branch, checking out the feeder, sometimes pecking empty shells. “More folks of their caliber around and I might feel good taking a day off.”
“What’s been up with you?” I passed him the drink.
