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That lined up with Caelan’s statements. Nodding, I clasped my hands. “So, how do we make option two a reality?”
Being honest with myself, I hated the idea of running, wasn’t sure I could handle starting over a second time. The career change alone would be devastating, but the thought of becoming a werewolf, if I wasn’t one already, made me sick. Never in a thousand years would I want to become the monster my grandfather had been. I needed time to breathe and think things through. More importantly, I had to keep as many options on the table as possible until I reached a decision (provided nothing killed me between then and now).
“These are all second, third, and fourth hand observations, Marcy, but he’s spending far more time and effort on you than he needs to.”
I turned my face under the suspicion that the wine had made my blush more apparent. “No,” I said, covering my embarrassed smile. “Really? I mean, to be fair, a killer is after me for reasons as-yet unknown.”
Her smile was more worried than happy. “You like him, don’t you?”
“We get along,” I said, picking the seeds off the bun to avoid her knowing gaze. “He’s different than I’m used to.”
“You want different, I’ve got it in spades,” she teased, rubbing her foot against mine. “Set aside your emotions; you make mistakes when emotion gets involved. That being said, he’s keener on you than anyone I’ve dropped in his path. Might just mean he’ll do the honor of killing you himself, reapers get possessive over their prey, but I vote we lean into it.”
The slider opened. Mina walked into the kitchen doing her best to hide a limp from the fall. On her way out, she flipped me the bird. Cal started to rise. I shook my head. The alpha relaxed, but only slightly. Swirling her glass, she settled back, bringing her head close to mine.
“Harlowe is a talented reaper, but he’s more curious than blood hungry. He has urges and instincts and hasn't chosen to turn off his humanity like his older peers. Take advantage of that. Play his game. Awaken your inner she-wolf.”
I kept quiet, wondering if it were possible for the werewolf gene to lay dormant. Gram had purchased tons of silver earrings for herself and me throughout the years. By chance had I always been wearing silver when my emotions were running high? Or was I simply more human-shaped than most?
Cal’s fingers brushed my chest. I jumped.
“He's still got a heart,” she continued, grinning something wicked. “Your job is to make it beat. If you can't . . . ” She shrugged. “I'll name a doll after you.”
Eying the folder, I took a deep breath and let the conversation stall to examine the paperwork. Within, were a set of documents labeled ‘Intention to Bite 102B. Werewolf – Standard’ pre-signed and notarized by Calico and I presumed another pack member. All that was missing was my signature and a valid form of ID.
“We don’t document option one,” she added over my shoulder.
Considering the fact I didn’t know why I was being targeted, I needed the reaper’s and the alpha’s help if I was to have any hope at surviving what was to come. Promising to get back to her quickly with my choice of option, I nonetheless scribbled my name as indicated on the forms as a precaution in the event I was put under further scrutiny or unable to later.
As she reviewed the signatures, I looked beyond the patio and toward the swaying branches of the orchard. “You know, he did bring me flowers.”
“Ba-bump, ba-bump," she purred. “Lone wolves are easy prey for a pack, and a good pack puts family first.” Cal frowned at Mina’s back. “To fetch my brother's pelt and keep yours intact, let's strengthen your relationship with the sheriff.”
“I wouldn't call it a relationship.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I sure as hell would. Finish your wine and catnap in one of the spares. We’ve each got busy nights ahead. But first, call the sheriff. You want . . . ” She tapped her chin. “Scratch that, need to see him. Can you arrange dinner at your place?”
“It’s a disaster over there.”
“And he’ll feel more protective of you because of that,” Cal purred.
Assuming no conversation within a house of wolves was private, I took a walk down Pippin Lane, pausing periodically to search the woods for canine, and human, shadows.
Caelan answered on the second ring.
“Hey,” I began, twining my damp hair around my finger. How did I do this? I'd made it clear I wanted space. “I need to see you.”
“About?”
“Things that go woof in the night,” I said. “Are you free later?”
He was quiet. The background was full of ringing phones and conversation.
“I had lunch with Mrs. Finn. It’s important, Caelan.”
“Okay. What time am I penciling you in for?”
“Be at my house by seven. Bring pizza.”
