Pack of Secrets, page 10
But no, my assailant was female. She spun me around and her hands gripped the front of my shirt as she tugged me to her. A long, hooked nose poked out at me from a thin face surrounded by curls so dark they looked blue in the low light.
Calista, a submissive who’d recently returned from her two-year training at the farm, glared at me, trying to look tough, but the slight tremble in her hands betrayed her. “Let’s… let’s do this, Chipmunk.”
I sighed. Man, I didn’t want to deal with pack politics today. There were only two reasons for a submissive to attack me. Either nobody had bothered to tell her I was at the bottom of the pack ladder and nothing could be gained by beating me, or she’d lost all her other challenges and planned to rough me up to boost her ego. My bet was on the latter.
“You don’t want to fight me, Calista.”
Her thin, black eyebrows drew together. “Yes, I do. I need to.”
Before I could explain why she actually didn’t, she balled up her fist, drew back, and slammed a punch into my gut, just below my left rib. I’d seen the hit coming and had braced my core for impact, but shifter strength was no joke. Even though her form was sloppy. I doubled over, trying to protect my midsection, but the bitch punched me again.
Trying to block out the pain, I opened my other sight and analyzed her spirit. The tapestry was a mess, with dark threads sticking out everywhere. I reached out with my ethereal hands to soothe her, thinking if I took some of that pain away, I could talk some sense into her. Get her to see how ridiculous this was.
“Hey!” a familiar young feminine voice called.
“Shit,” I muttered, shaking my head.
“What?” Calista asked. Still gripping my shirt in a hold I could easily break free of, she turned her head to face the newcomer.
“Never take your eyes off your opponent,” I chided. “Geez. This is why you’re losing your challenges.”
Her head whipped back around to face me. “What did you say to me?”
I held up my hands in surrender. “No offense. Just trying to help you out. Also, you step before you punch. Step with the punch—not before—and it’ll help you build momentum without broadcasting what you’re about to do.”
Sneakers padded against the concrete, and an indignant-looking twelve-year-old joined us. Tali, Mackiel’s little sister, crossed her arms and narrowed her big brown eyes at Calista. Enviably thick lashes cast long shadows across her chubby cheeks, and the corners of her bow-shaped lips dropped into a frown.
“What’s going on here?” Tali asked, looking down her nose at the older packmate. Quite the feat considering Calista was about a foot taller.
“Stay out of it, pup; it’s no concern of yours,” Calista said, keeping her attention on me.
I pleaded with my eyes for Tali to stay out of it, but the sparkle in her eyes told me I was out of luck. With her brother gone, I tried to keep the girl out of trouble; it was like trying to teach a hare to run without hopping.
“I don’t know,” Tali said. “I feel all sorts of concern for you.”
Calista scoffed. “For me?”
Tali nodded. “How weak do you have to be to pick on an omega who won’t fight back? Be honest, is Grace the only packmate you can beat?”
Even in the dim light, I could see red creeping up Calista’s neck and cheeks. “You’re lucky you’re not an adult, or I’d beat you,” she fired back.
Over the past two years that Calista had been gone, Tali’s dominance had shot off the charts. The girl looked like a four-and-a-half-foot blonde cherub, but she had the presence of a battle-hardened, blood-smeared giant. Calista must have sucked at reading people, or she would have picked up on how Tali held herself. Power coursed over the girl as she drew dominance from her wolf.
“I think you’re the lucky one,” Tali said, head high as she marched right up to my attacker. “But I’ll be an adult soon, and my memory is solid.”
Fear flickered in Calista’s eyes as Tali’s presence enveloped her. The older packmate wilted and faced me, again taking her attention off the more significant threat. “Fine, but if anyone asks, I bested you.”
She’d learn that wasn’t the brag she thought it was.
“Congratulations,” I deadpanned.
She released me and backed into the tunnel that crossed the old street. Once she was far enough away, she turned and ran toward the mess hall.
Tali looked me over. “You okay?”
I listened and sniffed the air, ensuring we were alone before grabbing her by the arm and tugging her to a spot where light filtered in through the faded stained-glass squares built into the sidewalk above. Between that and the LED lights at our feet, I could get a good look at her, which meant she could see the anger rolling off me.
“Why did you do that?” I asked.
“Because if you’re not going to stand up for yourself, someone has to.”
I gaped at the girl. “And you think having a twelve-year-old fight my battles will help me?”
She blew out a frustrated breath, sending her blonde bangs fluttering. “What am I supposed to do? Stand back and watch them pulverize you?”
“Yes. I can take it.”
“That’s lame.”
A twinge of pain shot through my skull. I massaged my right temple to keep the budding headache at bay. “Yeah, but it’s my choice to make.” It was my rebellion against the system. “I’ve got the situation under control now, but the moment I start fighting, I won’t be able to stop. Everyone will come for me.”
“As they should.” She leaned against the brick wall. “You’re a badass, and you can take most of them. You shouldn’t have to submit to pathetic bitches like Calista.”
Aww. Her faith in my fighting skills warmed my belly. “I don’t have to; I choose to. You know I don’t give a damn about rank.”
“I know you say you don’t, but everyone cares about rank. It’s what brings stability and order to the pack.”
“No, rank brings dominant and submissive shifters stability and order. I am neither.”
“You’re a weirdo,” she said, a mischievous smile softening her words.
“I am,” I admitted. “But you are, too. And you need to stop dominating the adults, or they’re going to team up and destroy you after your Bloodrite. Trust me, Tali, you need to make allies and play nice.”
“It’s not like it’ll matter,” she muttered.
As much as I hated to admit it, the girl was right. She had the dominance of a budding alpha, which would be a problem regardless of how many friends she made. When Tali turned eighteen and went through the Bloodrite, her wolf would have to submit to my father. And at the rate her power was growing, I didn’t know if Tali would be able to submit to anyone by then.
Like me, once she started fighting, she wouldn’t be able to stop. Her wolf would demand the top rung on the ladder, a position my father would never relinquish. But we had years to worry about that.
My stomach growled, and Tali laughed.
“I’m starving. You eat yet?” I asked, grateful to my stomach for the topic change.
She shook her head. “Nope. Let’s go.”
Looping my arm through hers, I turned us toward the mess hall and started walking. “You still struggling with the locks I gave you to practice on?”
“Nope.” She beamed a smile at me. “You should see how fast I can pick them now.”
“Dammit, now I’ll have to find a new way to keep you out of trouble.”
Grace
I had to knock three times before Rust answered the door. Skin disturbingly pale, he studied me through bloodshot, heavy-lidded eyes.
“You look good,” I snarked. “Like the dark circles around your eyes, but don’t you think you’re a little old to go goth?”
I expected a sarcastic retort, but my mentor didn’t appear to have the energy required to trade quips with me.
“Janey’s been in labor all night,” he said, confirming what I’d heard at the mess hall. Everyone was on edge, waiting for the arrival of the new pup. “You smell like food.” He sniffed the air, and the slightest bit of hope brightened his eyes. “Did you happen to uh…”
“Bring you something?” He hadn’t shown up for breakfast, so I’d snagged him a plate that was now hidden behind my back. Since shifter noses made food surprises impossible, I brandished the plate with a flourish and said, “Yeah, I did.”
A golden sheen rolled over his eyes as he fought his wolf for control. Snatching the plate out of my hands, he grabbed a sausage link and popped it into his mouth with a snarl.
“Close the door,” I chided. “Janey’s probably as hungry as you are, and she can’t eat right now. Doc said so. I saw him at the mess hall.”
Reaching behind him to shut the door, he plopped down cross-legged on the stoop and balanced the plate in his lap. The LED lights flashed off his canines, making him look feral as he tore into the meal.
“Grandmother dear, what big teeth you have,” I said, quoting the Little Red Riding Hood.
He grunted and continued to eat.
Sobering, I asked, “How is she?”
He held up a finger, requesting a moment to finish, then mopped up the drippings with the last bite of bread before stuffing it into his mouth. Mere seconds had passed, and the plate was spotless. Now he was eyeing it like he was about to lick it clean.
“You better give that back to me,” I said, reaching out to take the hard plastic. “Hash will kick both our asses if you eat it.” Hash was a crotchety old wolf who ran the kitchen with an iron spatula. I didn’t even want to think about what he’d do to me if I didn’t return the plate as promised.
“Thanks, Chip. I needed that.”
“I don’t think ‘needed’ is a strong enough word.” I’d never seen him so hungry, but now that I’d fed the beast, I was worried about his mate. “Is everything okay with Janey?”
Standing, he opened the door. “Come in, and we’ll chat.”
That sounded ominous. I peeped past him, trying to get a look at the inside of his place. I’d never been inside his home before. Hell, I could count on one hand the number of times I’d even approached his door. Rust and I typically spent about four hours a day together training or working, but we always met up at the gym, or he grabbed me from my house. He was my mentor, not my buddy.
“You want me to come in?” I asked.
The look he gave me questioned my intelligence. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”
Before I could come up with a smartass reply, he turned and walked down the entry hallway, leaving the door open. I had no idea what to do with the dirty plate that still smelled of food, so I set it beside the door before following him inside. Framed black and white pictures of people holding musical instruments hung on the walls. I recognized some of the faces from book covers.
“Who’s that?” I asked, pointing at a photograph of a shaggy, light-haired man playing guitar and singing into a microphone.
“Kurt Cobain, the lead singer of a local nineties band. The restaurant above used to host all the musicians you see here.” His arms swept around to include the entire house.
Interesting. I had follow-up questions, but Rust gestured me forward. The hall ended, opening into a living room centered around a sleek baby grand piano and two red leather sofas. More framed black and white photos covered the walls, and a shiny brass saxophone hung from a hook. Shocked, I gaped at my mentor. “Do you—”
He held a finger to his lips, silencing me, then pointed to a spot on the floor. I stepped around him to see a big, three-inch-thick round cushion situated between the sofas. A coyote pup, with the same coloring as her mother, slept atop the cushion, her soft belly up and tiny paws twitching as she dreamed.
My hands flew to my mouth as my insides went all gooey at the view. My curiosity over Rust’s musical prowess forgotten, I lowered my voice and whispered, “Ohmigod, I think my ovaries just exploded.”
His face scrunched up in disgust. “Really, Chip?”
“Sorry. I can’t help it. Look at little miss Aidy. I’ve never seen anything so adorable in my life. How old is she now?” I should have known the answer, but Rust was always too busy barking orders at me to chat about his family.
“She just turned two last week. You don’t have to whisper. Just keep your voice down.”
“And Cohen?” I asked in a slightly softer version of my usual tone.
“That one’s eight goin’ on twenty. Went to school early to work on a project.” Rust plopped down on the piano bench and gestured at the sofa across from him. “Please, have a seat.”
I perched more than sat, not letting myself get too comfortable. A million questions cycled through my mind, but I already felt like I was invading my mentor’s personal space. Janey’s scent was everywhere but strongest behind a closed door on the north side of the room. Someone was in there with her, and my nose told me it was her sister.
Lowering my voice so I wouldn’t be heard by the two women, I asked, “So, how is she?”
Rust’s brows pinched together in thought as he eyed me. Women my age were expected to mate and pop out as many pups as possible to pad the pack numbers. My mentor wouldn’t want to scare me away from my duty, but he had to know men weren’t exactly breaking down my door. Most of the pack treated me like I had an infectious, incurable disease and stayed away. Even if any guys were interested, nobody knew if my condition was hereditary, and I was in no hurry to find out.
“The contractions started about an hour before we got back, and they’re about ten minutes apart now. It’s been a rough night, but it shouldn’t last much longer.”
The worry in his eyes made it clear there was more to the story. “I’m not a child. I know how dangerous childbirth can be, Rust.” Every year we lost shifters to birthing. Mothers and babies couldn’t shift during pregnancy, making the coma used for deep healing unattainable. Shifter newborns tended to weigh around ten pounds, and with limited access to medical supplies, Doc didn’t have a lot of options.
“The labor seems to get worse with every pregnancy.” Rust dropped his head into his hands like he couldn’t bear the weight of it any longer. Poor guy. He had to be exhausted. My mentor had shifted twice last night, and judging by the dark circles around his eyes, he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.
My heart went out to him. “Well, you look like shit. You should try to get in a power nap while Elise is with Janey.”
He gave me a lopsided smile. “I’ve faced much tougher enemies than a sleepless night, kid. Don’t you worry about me.”
Stubborn, condescending bastard.
“We’re not training today. You’d probably pass out and cut yourself on my daggers, and that’s not an injury I’m willing to explain to your mate.”
His grin widened. “I could have one foot in the grave, and you still couldn’t take m—.” Rust’s face contorted in agony, and his body curled in on itself, feet rising off the floor to bring his knees to his chest. Behind the door, Janey cried out in pain. Rust squeezed his eyes closed and gritted his teeth so hard I thought his jaw might crack.
A… contraction? Holy shit! It had to be.
Rust and Janey were true mates. He was a wolf, and she was a coyote, but their souls had melded all the same. They shared strong emotions like joy and anger, but what he was doing now was something more. Rust was using their bond to siphon a portion of Janey’s pain onto himself. I’d heard rumors that pain mitigation was possible through the bond but doubted any guy would be brave or selfless enough to try it, especially during childbirth.
But leave it to Rust to try. It was the sweetest and most masochistic act of love I’d ever witnessed. True mates were a hell of a thing. I knew I should look away but couldn’t. His pain was a palpable, tangible force in the room, and looking away from such a beautiful, selfless sacrifice seemed downright disrespectful.
Finally, the contraction ended. Murmurs came from the other room, Elise comforting her sister. Rust sucked down a deep breath, unfurled his body, lowered his feet to the floor, and opened his eyes. His gaze locked with mine, and all the oxygen vanished from the room. I’d witnessed an intimate, sacred act between him and his mate, and now here we were, drowning in awkwardness.
Moments ticked by. I didn’t want to suffocate here with him. Panicking, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Tell me how you met Janey!” The words came out a little louder and more aggressive than necessary, but at least they shattered the disturbing silence.
Rust blinked. His face and shoulders relaxed, and his eyebrows rose. “You wanna know how I met Janey?”
“Yeah.” I gave a self-deprecating shrug. “Why not?”
Leaning forward in my seat, I concentrated on his spirit. I’d done this almost daily since discovering I could, so I knew his glowing tapestry well. Not like Rust required much soothing. The man was an icebox, all cool and functional. But today was different. Dark threads of worry and fear were tangled up all over the place. Focusing, I loosened one and settled it where it could heal. I couldn’t do anything for Janey, but I could help her mate carry the burden.
Rust steepled his hands. “Pretty sure I already told you that story.”
“No, you didn’t. I was barely more than a pup when I asked. We were in the gym, and Janey stopped by to watch us train. She kept giving you side-eye every time the story started to get interesting. You mentioned something about an ogre, and she practically had a seizure signaling you to shut up.” I’d immediately sought out the database to fill in the blanks for myself. Ogres were enormous hunched, bipedal creatures with a taste for flesh. “You gave me the watered-down child-appropriate version.”
I ran my ethereal hand over a particularly stubborn knot in his spirit, willing it to loosen up. The knot tightened and then relaxed just a smidge, allowing me to work another thread free.
