FATE OF THE ALPHA: EPISODE 2

A TARKER’S HOLLOW SERIAL

TASHA BLACK

13TH STORY PRESS

Contents

Copyright

Foreword

Episode 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Afterword

Also by Tasha Black

Copyright © 2015 by 13th Story Press All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

First Edition: January 2015

13th Story Press PO Box 506 Swarthmore, PA 19081

13thStoryPress@gmail.com

Cover design 2014 by Cormar Covers

www.cormarcovers.com

FOREWORD

Thanks for taking the time to read the second installment of Fate of the Alpha!

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And thanks again for reading my book. I know there is no shortage of books out there. It means a lot to me that you chose to read mine!

-Tasha

     Episode 2

CHAPTER 1

A insley lay on her back on the porch, head aching from the fall. The magic had hit her so hard, it felt like someone had replaced her bones with a swarm of angry bees. She tried to rise but couldn’t.

Exhaling slowly, she called on her senses for any information that might help her. The porch ceiling needed paint and there were dried-up fall leaves under the wicker sofa. Classic rock was still blasting from Charley’s car. The song had changed. It was a Stones song now. Jagger was in character, introducing himself and gloating over his wealth and his taste.

She could smell Camilla Parker Bowles dashing toward her. Instead of bounding up the stairs, the little dog began snuffling around in the rhododendrons that lined the front of the porch.

There was no sound of Charley. Had he been hit too? He had nothing to do with any of this. It seemed dreadfully unfair that even a human resident of this village had to suffer.

Ainsley’s wolf was slamming herself helplessly against the bars of Ainsley’s mind, but she was completely unable to shift.

In all the years she’d spent in Manhattan, denying her nature and wishing she could be free of what she saw as her curse, it had never occurred to her that she could feel such a profound sense of loss at losing that connection, however briefly.

Her jangled thoughts bounced to her mate, Erik. How must he feel, without his wolf?

And somewhere nearby was the bastard that took it. Ainsley grabbed hold of that thought before it could slip away and forced her consciousness around it until the chaos focused into a pinpoint of rage.

A powerful hum tingled along the surface of her skin. She couldn’t turn to her wolf, but her magic was still intact.

Responding to her call, the magic reverberated at a deeper pitch, clearing the cobwebs and bringing her back to the moment.

Ainsley was very, very angry.

A light blue haze tinted her vision.

A car door slammed.

Charley!

His heavy tread shook the porch as he approached. Thank god he was okay.

With supreme effort, Ainsley lifted her hand to him.

He didn’t take it.

Instead, she heard the creak of the wicker sofa and his face appeared, looming down over her.

“Ainsley,” he said. “Why couldn’t you just go?”

He leaned back and she was left looking at his knees, clad in a pair of soft brown cords.

“I’ve known you since you were a little girl. And, I don’t want to do this. But dammit, you’ve left me no choice.”

What was he talking about?

A fluttering of wings drew their attention.

“Are you finished monologuing, Coslaw?” a smooth voice asked.

“Jesus, Garrett, stop doing that.”

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

Ainsley capitalized on the distraction to take inventory of her body. The magic coursed through her and her limbs seemed less ghostlike and more real again. Maybe she could take them by surprise.

Before she could try, there was a tap, tap, tap sound across the porch.

An attractive older man with a long black cane stood above her.

“Ainsley Connor,” he said slowly.

She blinked at him.

“I’m going to keep this short and sweet,” said the man Charley had called Garrett. Where had she heard that name? “We’re here for the key. We know Sadie had it. We know she gave it to you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ainsley said, honestly.

“We are going to offer you one chance to hand it over. If you don’t, we’ll kill you.” Garrett spoke in a conversational tone, as though he were asking about the weather instead of threatening her life. “So, Ainsley Connor, daughter of Michael, where is the key?”

Ainsley willed herself not to mentally chase her tail wondering how sweet Charley Coslaw could be involved with this.

She had no clue what key they were talking about, but these two seemed to think she did. It occurred to Ainsley that her life might just depend on keeping them under that impression.

“You will rot in hell before you will lay one stinking finger on that key, you creepy, Charlie Chaplin motherfucker!” she spat.

Garrett barked out a surprised laugh. “Are you making fun of my cane?” he asked.

She shrugged and felt the magic surge again. Every part of her crackled with energy.

“Funny,” he said. “Well, I guess we’ll be finding the key on our own.”

With a flourish, he pulled a thin sword out of his cane and lifted it over his shoulder.

Suddenly, the neighbor’s holly bush shook and something dark and furry exploded out of it and streaked through the air, crashing into Garrett and knocking him to his knees.

Erik!

Ainsley’s heart soared for an instant as she pulled herself to her knees.

But of course it wasn’t Erik. He hadn’t been able to shift since he’d been struck by the trap. The trap that was meant for her.

It was the lone wolf she’d fought in the woods...yesterday? It already seemed like a lifetime ago.

He had found a way to prove his loyalty after all.

Through the buzz of her magic, Ainsley could feel the warm green glow of his submission. The pact was made. He was one of her own now.

“Son of a bitch!” Charley yelled.

The new wolf had the element of surprise, but its impact was already receding.

Desperately, Ainsley tried to gather up her magic. The image of the wobbling Coke bottle on the stump from the last time she had trained with Julian threatened to derail her.

Then she caught sight of Garrett slashing her pack-mate with that thin sword and she was filled with fury.

Charley stood. Frantically, she racked her brains and hit him with a spell.

“Subsisto lupo mutatis!”

Nothing happened.

Why was he smiling?

Oh god, that was the wolf spell. Charley wasn’t a wolf.

She took a shallow breath, evoked her energy ball and hurled it at him.

He caught the tiny mote of light like it was a ping pong ball, then bounced it playfully in his hand. The condescending look on his face was infuriating.

The ball in his hand shifted from blue to red. He controlled it now. In the span of a breath, the energy swelled to the size of a watermelon.

Ainsley braced herself.

CHAPTER 2

Grace’s heart beat frantically in her chest as she felt herself being lifted like a rag doll and carried away under a mysterious cloak.

“Hush,” the assailant whispered and she felt her insides melt.

Julian.

The hand that was clamped over her mouth loosened slightly.

“Put me down,” she whispered through clenched teeth.

Abuelo’s voice spoke in Grace’s head, coaching her through an escape. Head butt him, knee to the groin, and he’ll drop you!

But her body was also speaking to her. Wrap your legs around him, press yourself against his chest, smell his hair!

Before she could make up her own mind, he had placed her gently on the ground. The darkness around them parted slightly and Grace could see they were back in Triangle Park.

“We don’t have much time, and we’ve got to get to Ainsley before it’s too late,” Julian whispered.

“Walk and talk,” Grace replied.

“Indeed.”

He put his arm around her, keeping them shrouded in the magical darkness which had hidden them from the two passing men. Now that she had calmed down, Grace could just make out the street and the shapes of the houses in front of them through the shadowy shroud.

Julian’s warmth reassured her. Grace fought to stay focused on the task at hand.

‘That was Garrett Sanderson, wasn’t it?” she asked.

“Yes, he’s looking for a key. And he thinks Ainsley has it.”

“Does she?”

“I don’t think so,” Julian said. “Which could be very bad for her.”

“Who was the other guy?” Grace asked.

“You’re the sheriff. You tell me.”

“His voice was familiar.” Grace strained to match a face to the voice, but came up short. “I just can’t place it.”

Without speaking, they quickened their pace.

They had barely cleared the park when a ripple of magical dread lifted the hair on Grace’s arms.

Ainsley.

She broke into a run and Julian followed suit, dropping the magical cloak of darkness. The time for secrecy had passed. They swung left onto Princeton and tore down the last half of a block to Ainsley’s house.

Julian was in shape, but Grace was fast, and her friend was in danger. By the time Ainsley’s house came into view, she had pulled ahead of him by about half a block.

The wet leaves made the sandstone sidewalks slippery and she nearly wiped out as she rounded the corner onto Ainsley’s front walk.

She froze in place for a second, taking in the scene as Julian closed the distance.

Her best friend was on her knees on her own front porch. Charley Coslaw, a man Ainsley and Grace had known since childhood, stood over her, a roiling red ball of energy in his hand, ready to be hurled.

On the other side of the porch, Garrett was slashing at a wounded brown wolf with such gusto it jangled the wind chimes.

Her police instincts took over.

“Hold up!” she shouted with confidence, pulling her taser out of its holster. “Everybody cool off.”

All eyes moved to her.

“You don’t want to do this, Charley,” she said, looking into his eyes.

“You’re going to have to do this, Charley! Man up!” Garrett hissed. “Take her out and deal with the consequences. More important things are at stake here.”

Charley wavered.

While Charley thought and Garrett cursed at him, and the music blasted out of the car, Grace edged closer to her friend.

“I’m gonna give you a boost, be ready,” she breathed to Ainsley so quietly that no one without a wolf’s ears could hear it.

Then she reached out and Ainsley reached back.

The second their fingertips touched, the ball in Charley’s hand began to turn blue again.

Ainsley’s eyes rolled back in her head and Grace felt a surge like no magic she’d ever experienced before.

The blue ball in Charley’s hand expanded explosively, enveloping his whole body. He moaned in agony from inside the energy field.

With her other hand, Grace managed to deploy her taser at Garrett. The angle was off, and she was firing left-handed, but her aim was true.

He slumped. But instead of jerking outward in reaction to the electrical charge, he seemed to fold in on himself, disappearing in a cloud of birds that turned the porch black with their beating wings.

Instinctively, Grace dropped to protect Ainsley. When the sound of the birds was gone, she stood quickly.

Garrett was gone and Charley was gone as well.

“Neat trick,” Ainsley said in a light voice that reassured Grace her friend was unharmed. “Can you teach me to do that?”

“Why didn’t you catch him? I thought wolves had a strong small prey drive!” Grace joked.

“I’m no bird dog!” Ainsley pretended to be insulted. Then her face grew serious. “How did you get here so fast?”

“Hold that thought.” Julian’s voice cut through the cool air. “This boy may be dying.”

Grace turned to the brown wolf. But it was gone. In its place, a muscular young man, with a tattoos circling each bicep, lay unconscious in a pool of his own blood.

CHAPTER 3

Erik decided his Ford F-150 might be the future of tough, but it had a lot of room for improvement in the comfort department. He struggled to lie back without putting his work boots up on the creamy leather interior. At least the dual moonroof gave him an oddly peaceful view of the night sky.

When he bought this truck, he’d paid for that upgrade with exactly that in mind, and his investment had been returned with interest. He remembered one full moon in particular when Cressida had been on his lap, riding him raw while he licked the moonlight off her breasts. God, he’d like to replay that night with Ainsley.

Oh, Ainsley.

Erik gazed at the moon and begged it to enslave him again.

Instead, it stared back at him coldly, looking like nothing more than a flashlight beam or a circle of paper.

The feeling of staring at the nearly full moon without consequences was terrifying. But it was also oddly liberating.

Erik planned to sleep in the truck for a few nights to avoid the questions that were sure to come if he arrived in town during the full moon and didn’t shift. Although the solitude had been forced on him when Ophelia Winter had come from the Federation and sent him to assist the Copper Creek pack, he found himself surprisingly grateful for the chance to get used to his new powers by himself.

Powers.

It was strange to think of it that way, but it was true. Erik Jensen now had the power to not turn into a wolf. The power not to lose himself to wild fits of passion every month. He had the power to not know when someone was lying to spare his feelings. And the power not to smell bad smells unless they were up close and recent.

He slid around on the seat in search of a more comfortable position, to no avail. He made the decision to move to the back, where he would have room to stretch out.

Erik hopped out of the cab, locked the door, and swung himself up into the bed of the truck. He always kept a moving blanket back there, folded neatly in one of the metal drawers. In a few moments he lay on his back, staring up at the impossible number of stars sprayed across the black sky, and trying not to think about what Ainsley was doing, until he fell asleep.

CHAPTER 4

J ulian watched as Grace took up a position at the boy’s side, sliding to her knees with remarkable speed.

He admired the ease with which she checked his vitals, and her no-nonsense attitude about a little nudity and a lot of blood. Something akin to jealousy tickled the back of his mind as he watched Grace on her knees attending to the muscular young man. But he pushed that foolishness aside.

“He’s alive, but badly hurt,” she said.

“How can I help?” Julian asked.

Before she could answer, the sound of many running feet thundered on Princeton. Damned college soccer kids - did they really need to run at this hour?

Ainsley hopped to her feet with a smile. What a libido. He hoped her urges had something to do with her being a wolf and didn’t mean she wasn’t discerning. Must be hard for Erik.

“Shoot,” Grace said. Her eyes were darting from the sidewalk of Princeton up to the porch.

Julian surmised that she was rightly concerned about a bunch of college kids noticing the prone and bleeding man next to Ainsley’s front door.

“Extingui” he whispered to the porch light. It went out instantly, plunging them all into relative darkness.

“Ainsley!” one of the runners cried, in a familiar quavery voice. Carol Lotus, a professor from the college, rounded the hedge and bounded up the front walk. Julian was impressed that the old girl wasn’t even winded.

“Carol, it’s alright. The danger is gone,” Ainsley replied.

MacGregor followed right behind Carol.

“We’re fine, Mac,” Ainsley said. “Can you let the others know? We have a new pack member and he’s wounded so we’re gonna need some space.”

MacGregor nodded. He still looked troubled, as he should when his alpha was in danger.

As a matter of fact, Carol looked worried too, but in a different way. Julian watched as she darted a frantic glance at Grace.

Grace gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head and Carol seemed to slump a little with relief.

“Let’s get him inside,” Grace said in a firm voice.

Julian rushed to her side. Together with Ainsley, they lifted the young man. He didn’t even moan. Carol scurried to opened the front door.

“Go on with the others,” Grace said to Carol softly as she passed.

“Thank you,” Carol whispered.

The young man was bleeding profusely. Julian moved his lips silently in a lingering spell to staunch the worst of it, and to protect Ainsley’s Oriental rugs. They continued to the bathroom and laid him as gently as they could in the clawfoot tub.

For a moment they all just looked down at the battered body. In the stark light of the bathroom, his wounds looked more serious. Three deep slashes across his shoulders, chest and abdomen formed a crimson W shape that was streaming rivulets of blood despite Julian’s spell.

“He’s not responsive, and his wounds aren’t healing,” Grace said. “What’s going on?”

“Garrett’s sword was coated with silver,” Ainsley replied. Her voice was quiet but Julian could hear the feeling behind it. Her own injury with a silver bullet had happened only a month ago. She would bear the scars for the rest of her life.

“There must still be some silver in him,” Grace said.

“How do you get silver out of someone?” Julian asked.

“Can you do what you did to Erik?” Ainsley’s voice was hopeful.

“That was magic, not real silver,” Julian said. “And this silver has been pulverized and mixed into some kind of oil. It’s probably in his bloodstream already.”

“If it came from Garrett, it should have some residual magic,” Grace offered. “I touched that cane once.” Her involuntary shudder told Julian all he needed to know about the experience. “I wonder if there’s enough magic in that silver for me to draw it out...”

Grace’s features hardened. She had made a decision and meant to carry it out.

“Julian, get me something to put the silver in.”

He scurried down to the kitchen and grabbed a mug off the kitchen table. It was hard not to think about the last time Grace had used her magic to heal someone. And after she healed Erik...

Julian had replayed the mind-movie of her fierce little body going weak with need in his arms again and again. The look in her eyes burned him still.

He tried hard to focus on the task at hand, rather than wondering how she might feel after the operation. Even now, after what she had done with Ainsley to take Coslaw down...

When he returned to the bathroom no one even bothered to look up. Grace gazed down at the boy in the tub, her arms already making the stirring, gathering motions over him.

He could hear her breathing growing rough and feel the disturbance of her magical efforts billow against his skin. While Ainsley watched the boy in the bathtub, Julian couldn’t take his eyes off Grace.

Her pulse quickened as her arms spun and wove the air. He could see it throbbing in the tiny hollow at the base of her neck. Julian wanted nothing more than to nuzzle it, bury his nose in her clean, flowery scent.

Ainsley gasped and Julian looked down at the boy. His wounds were drawn upward, as if by a thousand invisible strings, then further, as though the whole bathroom were under water and those flaps of injured skin were floating.

Grace’s face was a study in determination. Sweat beaded on her beautiful smooth skin, and her ballerina arms pulled and strained at the magic.

Just when Julian began to fear that the task was impossible, Ainsley sucked in a breath and he saw what was happening.

A teeming army of silver dust motes was spilling out of the wounds and into the air just above the boy. Ainsley cringed from the shining mist.

Julian grabbed the mug, and held it out. The mist spilled merrily into the cup at complete odds with the gravity of the situation.

Suddenly, the skin across the boy’s abdomen began knitting back together as he watched. Julian knew that wolves had healing powers but had never seen such a serious injury heal before his eyes. It was so seamless it looked like an injury happening in reverse. No sooner had the first wound closed than the second closed and the third.

Julian looked down into the mug. The silver inside formed an inch deep layer of harmless looking powder, its magic was gone. He wondered what he ought to do with it. Could it possibly be flushed?

One moment the bathroom was silent as a church, the next an explosion of scrabbling and roaring exploded as the boy in the bathtub shifted into wolf form and desperately tried to get out of the tub. The slippery porcelain beneath his claws was probably all that saved them from a brutal attack.

Instinctively, Julian grabbed Grace’s hand to drag her from the room.

Ainsley, showing not a hint of concern for the snapping jaws, stepped toward the wolf in the tub and placed her hand on his shoulder.

The wolf stilled instantly under her touch and seemed to slump, then thrust his huge head into her belly. Ainsley smiled down at him and scratched behind his big ear.

“Don’t shift unless you want to,” she said. “I’m Ainsley. The witch who just saved your life is a pack VIP, Grace. And the man is Julian, another friend to the pack. You’ve earned your place. Let me bring you somewhere you can rest, my loyal one.”

The wolf melted back into a young man. He knelt in the tub, his hands grasping the sides, his head still pressed to Ainsley’s middle.

He was naked and covered in blood. But he seemed utterly unconcerned about anything but basking in her acceptance.

At length, he lifted his head and looked into her eyes.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Javier,” he answered. His voice was deep, yet awed.

“Thank you for your service to me today, Javier. I will show you to your room.”

With great dignity, Javier rose and stepped out of the tub. Then Ainsley beckoned and he trotted after her down the narrow hallway.

“I’m going straight to Ophelia after this!” Ainsley called back to Julian and Grace.

The astonishing scene had distracted Julian from Grace, but her presence struck him hard the moment they were alone.

Her hand was so small and soft in his, but feverishly hot. He looked down at their fingers, twined together, loving the way the honey of her delicate skin braided with his.

The room was silent again, but for the slight sound of Grace’s still rapid breath.

Julian met her gaze.

The hunger in her eyes prowled between them like a living thing.

It stole from Grace her usual serious demeanor. For once, the squared shoulders were rounded, her lips swollen from the kisses he hadn’t yet given her. In her exertions, some of her long hair had come loose from her ponytail so that she looked like she was already in bed, tousled and waiting for him.

She moved toward him and for a moment, he thought he couldn’t resist her - that he would never find the strength to deny what she needed and what he wanted to give.

But his conscience screamed at him, and he took a shuffling step backward. The forgotten mug in his hand smacked the mirror behind him, the sound echoing through the small space like a gunshot.

Julian didn’t realize he had been holding his breath, until it came rushing out in relief that neither the mug nor the mirror had shattered.

Grace’s expression hardened, and she stormed past him to take off down the narrow hallway at a jog.

CHAPTER 5

Erik awoke suddenly, sunlight stinging his eyes.

Someone was there.

Erik hadn’t been startled by another man’s presence since he was twelve years old and his wolf arrived.

He sat up as calmly as he could, stretching and trying his best to look unsurprised. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the dark blue of a police uniform. Great.

“Hey buddy, whatcha’ doing out here?” The officer’s voice was slow and guardedly friendly.

“I got tired last night and didn’t want to risk driving in the mountains anymore.” Erik replied. “And that moon was so bright...”

There were a lot of wolves in Copper Creek, but without his wolf’s sniffer, he couldn’t tell if he was talking to one now. Back in Tarker’s Hollow, the cops would have already fed him the pack line, Did you notice the moon last night? But this guy didn’t look like he was picking up on the clue Erik was trying to drop.

Fuck.

Why hadn’t Ophelia given him the local code?

He studied the cop. He was very tall, with dark, pomaded hair, big brown eyes, and deep smile lines, all of which gave him the look of a young Elvis, in spite of the fact that he was clearly at least sixty. A shining star insignia perched proudly on his lapel.

“Well, hell, I would’ve thought you’d be in a hurry to get into town and make new friends with a full moon in! You’re wolf, right?” the cop asked jovially.

“Uh, yes.” Erik glanced over his shoulder reflexively, as if someone might hear.

“No need to worry. We don’t get many outsiders ‘round here, so we don’t have to play your big city games. I’ll bet you have some fancy code words or something like that, don’t you?”

Erik smiled at the idea of Tarker’s Hollow being a big city.

“Yes, you’re right,” Erik said, the tension leaving his body. “We do have code words.”

“Ha!” The officer laughed a deep, rich laugh like molasses. “Hey Reggie, you hear that?”

“I hear ya’, Lonnie,” came a voice from the patrol car behind. Erik hadn’t even noticed him.

“I’m Sheriff Lonnie Muncy,” He offered Erik a meaty hand. “That’s my deputy, Reggie Walker.”

“I’m Erik Jensen.” The sheriff had a firm, dry grip, that reminded Erik of his father’s handshakes. But with less competitive squeezing. “Nice to meet you.”

“That’s a real pretty truck you got,” Sheriff Muncy said, gazing at it like he was trying to get up the nerve to ask it to dance.

Erik smiled proudly. It was a nice truck. He forgave it for giving him a neck cramp.

Reggie waved from the patrol car. He was a young guy with an old smile and a neatly trimmed Afro.

Erik waved back with a smile of his own. So far, so good.

“So what brings you to Copper Creek?” the sheriff asked. “You here to volunteer on the cave-in mess? There’s not much that can be done, you know?”

“Well, I was sent by the Federation to help, yes.”

There was a brief pause in which the sheriff cleared his throat and lifted his slightly stooped shoulders straighter. “Erik Jensen, oh yes. Yes, we’re glad you could be here. I’m sorry, I was expecting someone... older.”

“Uh, no problem,” Erik said, puzzled by the man’s expectations.

“We’ll escort you down the mountain,” Muncy offered. “You probably aren’t used to these hills.”

“Thanks.”

Shit.

Now he would be in town the night of the full moon.

Erik hopped back in the truck, wishing he could take a leak off the side of the road. His bladder would have to hold until he got to town.

By the time they got halfway down the mountain. he was pretty surprised he hadn’t already wet his pants a little. He couldn’t believe coal trucks drove around these mountains.

Coal trucks.

The guard rails didn’t even seem up to the task of stopping his pick-up from flipping down the ravine to the meandering creek below. Every half a mile or so, a driveway appeared to go nearly straight uphill at a ninety degree angle.

Twice they passed long, sandy embankments with signs saying Runaway Truck Ramp. He shuddered at the thought of being behind the wheel of a truck without brakes thundering down this mountain.

Just as Erik began to relax slightly and take in the beauty of the peaceful wooded mountain, they reached the valley and the heart of Copper Creek.

If the mountains were natural and lovely, the town was the opposite. A metal grate bridge, molting scales of sky blue paint, led the way toward a straight line of slanting frame buildings that huddled in the shadow of the mountain. The businesses were housed in plain white boxes with gray asphalt shingle roofs, as simple as a child’s drawing. They stared at him sadly as he drove past, their signs flapping listlessly.

There was something odd about this town. It felt like it was sepia-toned. Erik couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe it was the thin layer of dirt that covered every sign, every car, and even seemed to line the faces of the people who stood on Main Street, watching the guy with the shiny pick-up truck drive into town.

The F150 was too fancy for Copper Creek. He should have brought his dad’s old truck. He hadn’t given it any thought, and now he felt like a dandy. Which was pretty funny given that driving a pick-up truck at all in Tarker’s Hollow made people assume you were the help.

The sheriff’s car pulled up on the pavement in front of a large brick building. The brick stood out after all the wood frame buildings, even though it was just a stout square with a flat roof. Copper Creek Police & Fire was painted on its wooden sign. The red lettering, which must have once been a brilliant scarlet, was covered with that same fine dust, as was the white background.

Erik hopped out of the truck in time to catch the door for the sheriff.

“Thanks, Doc.” said the sheriff. “We’ve got a packet in the office for you. Then you can figure out where to hang your hat.”

The entry had a simple varnished pine floor and a thick wool welcome mat. The sheriff and deputy wiped their feet on the mat energetically before continuing into the office. Erik followed their lead.

Huge metal pendant lights, so old they were nearly in fashion again, hung over the counter. The sheriff walked behind and fished around on a shelf for a few seconds.

“Here ya’ go.” He slid a large manilla envelope over to Erik. “This has your badge, so you can enter the site, and some other stuff the Federation said you’d need.”

Erik opened it and pulled out a piece of laminated card stock dangling from a black lanyard.

Erik Jensen, PsyD (Speciality - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder)

What?

In a desperate bid not to let his jaw hit the floor, Erik pressed his lips together and slid the badge back into the envelope.

“It was a long drive, do you have a rest room I could use before I figure out where I’m headed?”

“Of course, Doc, I shoulda’ thought of that.” The sheriff pointed to a door in the rear corner of the office. “Right back there.”

Erik gave a nod and strode as fast as he could for the bathroom.

Once inside he nearly collapsed. Ophelia hadn’t mentioned anything about this. She had specifically told him she needed someone with his skills. He’d assumed he was supposed to be here for his excavation knowledge, although digging foundations had very little in common with rescuing trapped miners. At least he could have faked his way through that role convincingly.

How was he going to pretend to be a psychologist? He was an excavator.

He gave up on trying to figure it out and relieved himself. It did make him feel better physically. But now he was left with the problem of impersonating a psychologist front and center.

Erik had never been to a psychologist professionally. There were psychologists who lived in Tarker’s Hollow, of course, but none of them exactly talked shop around town. Who would ever believe he was a psychologist if he didn’t know the first thing about what they did besides sit people on couches?

Or was that a psychiatrist? What was the difference?

Shit.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it. He needed to get out of the bathroom before the sheriff started thinking something was wrong with him.

The sheriff. Oh man. No wonder the sheriff was expecting someone else. Erik was wearing work boots, jeans and an old white T with a flannel on top. And driving a truck.

He stifled the laughter that threatened. He was going to need a psychologist himself by the time this was over. Taking a deep breath, he looked at himself in the mirror and willed himself to believe it was going to be okay.

He pushed open the bathroom door and strode back over to the sheriff.

“Thanks, I feel like myself again,” he said as jovially as he could. “Can you direct me to wherever the emergency workers are staying?”

“Well, Doc, you’ve got a choice. The workers were all put up in trailers out near the site, and I’m sure they have room for you there. But since you’re one of our kind, I have a better option for you. The Millers live in town and they have a room to let. They’re great people. LeeAnn’s husband is our alpha, and he’s down in that mine, so they could use a distraction right now. Would you be interested?”

Shit. Erik had to think fast.

If he went with the emergency workers, who were not from Copper Creek, they would quickly realize he wasn’t a real psychologist. If he went with the Millers, they would quickly realize he wasn’t a wolf.

The sheriff’s kind look was beginning to go cold, and Erik read between the lines. The Millers were wolves. Wolves stuck together.

“Sorry to hesitate, the name LeeAnn Miller rung a bell with me for some reason but I can’t place it.” Erik hoped that rang true to the sheriff. “Yes, I’d be honored to stay with the Millers, if LeeAnn has a place for me and doesn’t mind a stranger in her home at a time like this.”

The sheriff’s smile lines deepened again and he reached out as if to clap Erik on the shoulder, then thought the better of it and clapped his own hands together instead.

“That’s great, Doc. I’m sure she’ll be glad to have you. Let me give her a call now, let her know you’re coming.”

CHAPTER 6

A insley headed out as soon as Javier was tucked into the guest room bed.

He’d been so grateful and so submissive, and the moonlight through the window was intoxicating. Thankfully, she was too distracted to want to do more than coo over him sympathetically and then get the hell out of dodge.

As soon as her feet hit the front porch, she knew Cressida was waiting.

Thank god.

She didn’t have the patience for anyone else right now. Say what you would about her, Cressida didn’t stand on ceremony. Ainsley was learning to appreciate that quality more and more.

But where was Erik?

Was he really so out of touch with the pack that he hadn’t felt any of the danger and excitement? The idea frightened Ainsley more than she wanted to admit to herself.

“Where was Erik for all the action?” Cressida asked immediately from where she sat on the wicker sofa, without so much as a hello.

Ainsley set her jaw.

“He must be tied up with Ophelia.”

“I’d like to see that.” Cressida smirked, hopping up to follow Ainsley off the porch.

Ainsley stopped, turned, and gave her a taste of the alpha stare.

“Sorry,” Cressida went blessedly silent, leaving Ainsley to her own thoughts.

Erik had said he was going to talk to MacGregor, but Mac showed up alone. Much as Ainsley didn’t want to think about it, Cressida probably had a point. Ophelia had been looking at Erik like he was the last bacon wrapped shrimp.

If she made a move, would Erik flat out refuse her? Could he?

She wished she knew the answers, but she didn’t know enough about wolves. And she damned sure wasn’t going to ask Cressida.

Ainsley picked up the pace, and Cressida sauntered along agreeably.

The night air was beyond crisp, it was getting a sharp edge of actual cold. The new neighbors on Princeton had put out Halloween decorations. A breeze caught the sleeve of the scarecrow in the front yard and waved it in an eerily realistic greeting.

By the time they had crossed Yale and passed the construction site, the kiss of moonlight on Ainsley’s skin was beginning to drive her to madness. When the woods were in sight she began to run.

Cressida followed without question. They crashed through the trees, moonlight filtering through to tease them to new speeds.

When they reached the edge of Erik’s grassy field Ainsley slowed. Cressida touched her hand respectfully to Ainsley’s shoulder. When Ainsley stopped, Cressida began to run her hands through Ainsley’s hair.

For a brief, confused moment, Ainsley thought Cressida was asking her to assuage the need the moon was stoking in them both.

Then Cressida’s nails brushed her scalp and she realized her friend was simply grooming her. A good idea too, Ainsley wouldn’t want Ophelia to see she had scrambled through the woods at a break-neck pace after a fight for her life. Ophelia was here to make sure Ainsley had everything under control. Ainsley needed to at least appear that she did.

Ainsley submitted to Cressida’s attentions to her hair, and even allowed her to stroke her mouth with a peppermint Chapstick she’d fished out of her bra. But when Cressida forgot herself and repeated the motion of the spicy lip balm against Ainsley’s lips, longing dancing in her eyes, Ainsley pushed her hand away and kept walking.

Cressida fell behind her obediently and kept up the pace.

As they approached Erik’s front porch, a male figure appeared, silhouetted in the porch light. He was hunched over and walking fast.

Not Erik.

It was Justin, one of the two boys who had been lackeys of Clive’s but had come back to the pack to serve Ainsley. He looked like a deer in the headlights tonight. He even averted his gaze when she passed him.

Ophelia was lounging on the porch sofa, straightening up her clothing at a leisurely pace. The smell of sex was thick in the air and it kicked Ainsley’s hunger up a notch. Fighting her desire was annoying, but at least Ophelia hadn’t been with Erik.

Where was Erik?

Ainsley could always sense her mate when he was near. Had she lost scent of him because his wolf was gone?

Ophelia sat up and reached for a tiny mother-of-pearl compact that was sitting on Erik’s coffee table along with a bottle of black nail polish and a vial of some sinister looking perfume. Studying herself in the small mirror, she applied a dab of powder to her already ghostly white skin. Then she began to talk softly.

“I’m so glad you came around to my point of view about Copper Creek. I only wish I’d gotten a chance to get to know Erik a little more intimately before you sent him away. The level of performance I just tolerated is unacceptable. I will require the services of someone a little more experienced tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll find an appropriate companion for me.”

Ainsley’s wolf snapped at the bars. She imagined what Ophelia’s blood would taste like as she ripped that pale throat out.

Once again, Cressida’s warm hand caressed her shoulder.

“Will you be requiring my services further this evening, my alpha?”

Ainsley took a breath and let Cressida’s touch evaporate just the edge of the fury she felt.

“No. That will be all.”

Ophelia leaned forward to catch Cressida’s eye and then deliberately run her gaze up and down the girl’s body. “Don’t go far.” She smiled like a woman in a hair shampoo commercial and Ainsley felt her blood boil again. This was her pack, not a brothel.

“Yes, Councilman,” Cressida purred. But as she pulled her hand off Ainsley’s shoulder she ran it downward and gave Ophelia the middle finger repeatedly against Ainsley’s back.

Ainsley hoped that Cressida’s seductive smile was enough to distract the councilwoman from her own twitching lip.

“SO.” Ophelia turned back to her compact as Cressida trotted down the porch steps. “I hear there was some trouble this evening?”

Fuck.

Ainsley definitely did not want to tell Ophelia about the magic. And she didn’t want to seem threatened either.

“It was just a little dust up,” she said lightly. “We ended up recruiting a new member.”

“That’s good.” Ophelia closed the compact with a snap and turned her full attention to Ainsley. “It’s one of our areas of concern. This pack is dwindling. There are no cubs. You need to find a way to infuse it with some new blood.”

There certainly had been no shortage of blood earlier.

“We also expect some bumps in the road with any transition,” Ophelia continued. “But you need to keep things running as smoothly as possible. Even a little ‘dust up’ could attract unwanted attention. You need to protect your pack by maintaining a low profile.”

Ophelia gazed at Ainsley with those unblinking obsidian eyes. She seemed to want a response, but Ainsley had no idea what she was supposed to say, so she nodded.

“That will get tricky with new construction, Ainsley. You need to be up for the job. We would rather disband this pack than risk being outed to the public.”

Ouch.

But Ainsley had to admit she was actually right. And the magical stuff was out of control too. What if someone had come walking up Princeton during that fight?

Ophelia seemed satisfied to see that she was taking things seriously.

“Tomorrow night is the full moon.” She gave Ainsley a small smile. “We will run together.”

Shit. Tomorrow.

What were they going to do about Sadie?

Ainsley was pretty sure Ophelia would know whether or not Sadie would shift. But she could see already it was better not to ask.

Clearly, the Federation wouldn’t want to entrust a pack to an alpha who let one of her own into an out of town hospital in a coma.

CHAPTER 7

Erik made his way back out to the truck. When he got in, he realized the envelope with his ID and papers was clenched so tight in his fist it was crumpling.

He threw it on the seat next to him and looked over at it like it was alive. Son of a bitch. How was he going to do this?

It was probably best just to power through. He backed slowly out onto Main Street, and prayed the Millers’ house wasn’t up one of those ninety degree driveways he’d seen on the way in.

He passed a Rite Aid - the first sign of any franchise. Without any fanfare, the little town ended and he was following the creek around a curve on Main. He turned left over a bridge - more the suggestion of a bridge, really, hanging merrily above the creek without guard rails or expansion joints. The side of the mountain edged so close, it was practically touching the passenger side door. On the driver’s side, the creek separated the road from a row of 1920’s bungalows. He passed the Millers’ house and circled around taking another small bridge to get to it.

He squeezed into a small spot in the front of the house, right along the retaining wall for the creek. Erik tried not to imagine all the misfortunes that could befall the F150. Instead, he hopped out and climbed the stairs to the front porch of the little white bungalow.

A beautiful wooden bench and matching wooden swing faced each other on opposite sides of the porch. They looked handmade. In between them, an army of baby dolls and bicycles choked the grassy green astroturf rug.

Erik knocked gently on the front door. The sound of little feet inside thundered toward him.

“Ruth, Rachel, Zeke, only grown-ups get the door!” A woman’s tired voice cut through the hubbub.

The door opened with a click to reveal the speaker, LeeAnn. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, with light brown hair to her shoulders. To her credit, she was dressed and made up, with a clean sweatshirt and jeans. Erik wasn’t sure he’d be able get himself together if Ainsley were trapped in a mine.

Two little girls peeked around her legs. One sported two ponytails, the other had one.

“I’m Erik, Erik Jensen. The sheriff said you had a room to rent?” He tried to make himself look less imposing than usual and as a result probably came off a little weird.

“Oh, okay. Hi. I’m LeeAnn. Girls, please let go of my legs so we can show this gentleman the spare room.”

“It’s NOT a spare room. It’s MY room!” an angry little voice said from inside the house.

“Sorry about Ezekiel. He’s worried about his daddy. Are you in town to help with that?”

Erik swallowed past the lump in his throat, “Yes, I’m here to try.”

“Are you a drill specialist?”

Oh fuck.

“Nope, I’m a psychologist.” The lie was already getting easier. “When the men come out of the mine they may need help to adjust back to their every day life.”

She nodded, looking about as sold on the concept as he was.

After an awkward moment she said, “Well, come on in. We’ll show you the room.”

Erik followed her into a small but immaculately clean living room. A large, boxy television showed Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

LeeAnn led him down a small hallway and up a steep flight of stairs. Oddly enough, the upstairs reminded him of his own house.

In the first bedroom, a teenaged girl with a blonde ponytail and large glasses sat on a double bed, her nose in a book. Catcher in the Rye. Ha. Erik had loved that when he was about her age. Fifteen going on thirty.

“Mom, could you knock?” she cried.

“Mary, this is Erik Jensen,” she turned suddenly to Erik, who nearly fell down the stairs. “Or is it Dr. Jensen?”

“Erik is fine.”

“Dr. Jensen is going to be staying with us a while,” she continued. “He’s here to help with the mine.”

“Okay,” Mary said with a hint of incredulity as she studied Erik’s outfit.

“Good book,” Erik said.

Mary peered at him suspiciously through the glasses, no doubt scanning the comment for sarcasm, then slowly nodded. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

LeeAnn had already headed through the adjoining door to the second bedroom. Erik followed.

The room was simple: a bed with a Star Wars comforter, a dresser, a built-in bookshelf over the window covered with action figures in homemade dioramas.

“Give me half an hour to clean up and bring fresh linens and it’s yours,” LeeAnn said. “Twenty-five dollars a day and I’ll give you breakfast.”

“I don’t want your little guy to lose his room,” Erik said. “I’ll pay the same to sleep on the couch.”

“Doc,” LeeAnn smiled sadly. “I wouldn’t share this, except I know in your line of work you’ll understand. Ezekiel feels like he’s the man in the family right now. So even though he’s scared with his daddy gone, he can’t ask to sleep with his sister. You being here to take the room is a godsend, believe me.”

Erik nodded, not trusting himself to speak. After all, what could he say? He tried to think of a way to deflect the conversation, but his hesitation quickly grew into an awkward silence.

“I’ll go grab a few things in town - be back in an hour, okay?” he said finally, walking through the door and remembering too late that there was no hallway and he was in Mary’s room again.

“Sorry, Mary! I forgot to knock,” he said.

“That’s alright, Erik,” she replied, adjusting her glasses self-consciously to peek at him from behind her book, then looking away quickly with reddening cheeks.

Perfect. A school girl with a crush.

Why did the universe seem to be conspiring against him at every turn?

CHAPTER 8

A insley paced the covered back porch of her childhood home, waiting for Cressida.

She had always loved the peacefulness of the backyard, with its tall trees and white picket fence, but tonight Ainsley couldn’t relax. The late afternoon air was crisp and cool. Sunset was coming earlier and earlier as the seasons changed. Soon it would be dark. They didn’t have much time.

Javier was raking leaves. The rhythm of his raking had subconsciously adjusted to match Ainsley’s pacing. His muscles bunched and stretched under the white t-shirt of Erik’s she had given him to wear. With each sweep of the rake, red and yellow leaves swirled and settled into the gigantic pile he was accumulating on a burlap tarp.

Ainsley tried not to allow herself to pretend it was Erik out there. It was strange to be suddenly sharing space with a new wolf. In some ways she longed for privacy to mourn Erik’s loss. At least Javier was forcing her to focus on the present.

And he certainly was making himself useful.

Ainsley knew Javier was grateful to her for taking him in. He had been fixing odds and ends around the old house all day. She’d almost sprained her wrist opening the door to the third floor tonight. It had always been loose and needed a really good twist to open. Somehow Javier had coaxed the old bronze knob into proper alignment and now it turned firmly, like other knobs. Ainsley wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or worried.

What would he do when he ran out of household jobs?

She wondered if he was concentrating on housework to distract himself from the teasing pull of the moon. Though he had given Ainsley every hint that he wanted to serve her completely, she had so far refused him and evaded any questions about it. She didn’t relish telling him, or anyone, that although she was alpha, she wanted to be faithful to a mate who was gone, and wasn’t a wolf anymore anyway.

The moon pulsed and madly pulled at her , even though the sun diluted its light. Ainsley was frantic with worry about how she was going to make it through the full moon without mating, but she pressed that feeling down, putting the pack’s needs first.

Just as she was ready to reach for Cressida through her bond as alpha, there was a clattering at the gate.

“Ainsley?”

“Hi, Cressida.” Ainsley turned back to the growing leaf pile. “Javier, please come talk with us.”

The young man laid down his rake immediately and jogged up to the porch to oblige her.

Ainsley sat on the bench of the picnic table. Cressida trotted up the porch stairs and stood, leaning against one of the porch columns. Javier stood respectfully in front of the other.

“I need your help tonight,” Ainsley said.

“Yes, my alpha,” Javier said quickly.

Cressida started to smirk, but then thought better of it and nodded coolly.

“One of our packmates, Sadie Epstein-Walker, is in the hospital in a coma. We need to get her out of there before the full moon tonight. We can’t have her changing in front of human doctors and nurses.”

“That sounds...difficult,” Javier said carefully. “What do you need from us?”

“Ophelia is expecting me to meet her tonight to run. I need a distraction,” Ainsley replied.

Cressida rolled her eyes. “Why am I always the distraction?”

Ainsley gave Cressida a stern look, then turned to Javier. “I need you two to meet Ophelia before she leaves Erik’s place and keep her occupied as long as possible.”

“Keep her occupied?” Javier asked.

“By fucking her, Einstein,” Cressida said.

“Oh,” Javier replied. “Wait... which one of us needs to do that part?”

“I’m not sure,” Ainsley said. “That’s why I need you both to go. I know she likes guys, but she seemed into you last night, Cress. She might choose either one of you.”

“Or both,” Cressida said lightly. Ainsley knew Cressida well enough to know that although she’d said it in a nonchalant way, it was wholly intended to make Javier nervous.

“Both?” Javier asked, trying hard not to sound surprised and failing.

“Oh, I’ve heard she’s a freak,” Cressida continued. “She might just get off on watching us do each other while she rubs one out in the corner. I’ll bet she packed the whips and nipple clamps for her little visit. Or maybe even a big-“

“Thank you, Cressida,” Ainsley interrupted, seeing no reason to put Javier any further off his game. Assuming he had one. Hopefully Ophelia would be so taken with his good looks and bountiful muscles, she wouldn’t care that much about his technique. “Are you up to the task?”

“Yes!” Cressida said immediately.

Javier studied Cressida with his serious eyes for a moment.

“Yes,” he said at length. “I think I’ll manage.”

For once, Cressida seemed to be caught off-guard. Ainsley tried to hide her smile as she turned to Javier.

“You’ve done this before?”

He blushed furiously and looked down at his hands, nodding once.

“Good. I will give you one piece of advice,” Ainsley said quietly. She waited, needing to know he was paying attention.

He looked up immediately with solemn eyes.

“The thing to remember with Ophelia,” she continued, “is that it’s all about Ophelia. Concentrate on making her happy, and it won’t matter how much or how little experience you have. Okay?”

He nodded again and she couldn’t resist tousling his hair affectionately.

“Good boy.” She smiled gently at him. “Thank you for helping me.”

His face was suddenly brighter and he managed to smile back.

“Come on, new meat,” Cressida said, jostling him slightly.

Ainsley smiled as the two of them ambled off in the direction of the gate. She wasn’t sure how much time they could buy her, but she planned to use every minute of it.

She slipped her phone out of her pocket and texted Grace to tell her the game was afoot.

CHAPTER 9

C ressida normally loved the full moon but tonight it was cramping her style. They weren’t at Erik’s house yet, and the ache in her pussy was already radiating out into her whole pelvis. They hadn’t even fooled around.

By this point in any other full moon, Cressida would have found someone to pound the life out of her until they were both satisfied half a dozen times over.

Fucking Ainsley Connor.

Cressida loved Ainsley.

Also she hated her.

The position of importance Cressida now held in the pack was awesome. Cressida especially liked having one over all those college weirdos.

But having to do stuff when she didn’t feel like it, or not do things when she did, sucked.

It didn’t help that the new kid was joined at her hip. Emotions were hard to ignore when you were a wolf, and feelings were rippling off of Javier. His chest was thundering with fear. But the heartless moon affected him anyway, and the scent of his lust poured off him in waves, pushing Cressida’s own need to the breaking point.

She gritted her teeth and looked over at him.

He met her gaze bravely. His chocolate brown eyes were luminous. Yes, he was afraid, but there was something else in his eyes too.

She winked at him and grabbed his hand.

“Ainsley was right, just concentrate on Ophelia and you’ll be fine.”

His hand was warm and dry and he squeezed hers back hard enough not to be a pussy, but not so hard that he seemed like he had something to prove. He nodded, but there was still something about the way he was looking at her. He turned away before she had a chance to think too much about it.

They were at Erik’s anyway. The grassy field by his house glowed with moonlight as they made their final approach.

Game time.

Cressida was suddenly at a loss about what would happen next. She handled it like she did every crisis - pounding up the porch steps two at a time to confront it.

Javier followed like a good puppy, his fingers still entwined with hers.

She let go of his hand to knock on the door.

No answer.

Cressida banged on the door again.

She waited three heartbeats, then strode on in. Ainsley wasn’t in there so she wasn’t worried about the knocking.

“Councilman Winter?” she called.

There was a sound of running water upstairs, and the whole house smelled like steak and some kind of perfume.

“I’m upstairs, come on up and get comfortable.”

Cressida shrugged and headed for the stairs. She could feel Javier following behind her. Though he was a liability, it helped a little to feel that she outranked someone here.

The smell of the perfume increased as they climbed the stairs. Once they reached Erik’s room, Cressida immediately began to undress. She was down to just a black lace thong & matching bra when she sensed that Javier wasn’t moving anymore.

She turned to catch him staring at her, deer-in-the-headlights style. He hadn’t removed a stitch of his own clothing yet.

Great.

She waved a hand in front of his eyes and he blinked, then she gestured to indicate his clothing. He blinked again, then shook his head and pulled the-shirt over his head.

Cressida hadn’t been planning to check him out, at least not until they got down to business. But now that she had to babysit him, she couldn’t help but notice his six pack abs and the shadow of silky black hair between his chiseled pecs. The tattoos on his arms drew your eye right to the widest part of his bicep. Nice.

He unbuttoned his fly. Then he pushed the jeans down his narrow hips. A pair of black boxer briefs peeked out.

Before Cressida could wonder about what was underneath, he looked up at her inquiringly.

She shook her head to tell him not to remove the boxers.

He straightened and held eye contact with her. There was an intensity in his gaze. His posture had changed from that of an earnest young boy to a man in charge.

Shit.

The air between them was crackling. The moon took no prisoners.

Cressida knew that if she fucked him, Ophelia would know it, which wouldn’t be good.

That knowledge sealed her decision to do it anyway.

Suddenly, the water that had been running in Erik’s bathroom turned off.

Crap.

There was a bang as the door flew open and hit the wall, and then Ophelia was framed in the threshold.

She was completely naked. Water ran off her muscular frame in rivulets. She was very tall, and her height combined with her fierce expression gave her the look of an Amazon.

She paused dramatically in the doorway, then strode through and looked from Cressida to Javier and back. Her dark eyes narrowed.

“Ainsley thought you might want to take the edge off before your run,” Cressida said, hoping her voice sounded bored instead of scared.

“Yes,” Ophelia replied, “I’m just trying to figure out why she sent you two.”

Bitch.

Cressida was ready to throw down, super-alpha or no, but she could hear Javier’s heart thundering.

“If you prefer we can send for Tweedle-dee from last night,” she said instead. “Maybe he’ll bring Tweedle-dum to help.”

Ophelia’s stern exterior cracked and she gave Cressida a smirk.

“Let’s see how this plays out,” she said, circling slowly behind Cressida.

Cressida held herself motionless against every instinct. She could feel Ophelia’s eyes on her, making her skin suddenly hyper-sensitive. Ophelia’s hot breath grazed the back of her neck. One wet finger trailed down from Cressida’s neck to the middle of her back.

Suddenly Cressida’s bra was open. Ophelia was smoother than a high school football player.

Cressida took in the odd feeling of the undergarment going from being like a second skin to a foreign piece of lace drooping from her shoulders. It scratched against her nipples, which had gone instantly hard from the cool air in the room. She held her breath, waiting to see what Ophelia might do next. The pleasure of her anticipation surprised her.

But Ophelia had already moved on to Javier.

Cressida locked eyes with him. His jaw was set, but otherwise he looked relaxed. Except for where his boxer briefs tented out in front of him.

Good.

Ophelia should be happy. Cressida was willing to bet good money that most guys went limp when faced with that attitude.

Where Ophelia had barely touched Cressida, she took the opposite approach with Javier. Her hands spread out like starfish all over his back and shoulders, feeling and stroking. Then she circled around to face him.

He pulled his gaze from Cressida’s and gave Ophelia a single smoking hot look before dropping his eyes to her tits deferentially. Nice.

Ophelia had a huge rack, much bigger than Cressida’s. And a fist-sized scar in a crescent shape above her left breast. Wolves healed easily, so it must have been inflicted with silver. Though it looked like an old scar, it was an angry red color with uneven edges. Instead of detracting from Ophelia’s beauty, the scar made her more beautiful - as if it were a demonstration that ugliness couldn’t touch her cold glamor. Or maybe it just made her look like a badass.

In any case, Ophelia certainly wasn’t shy about it being looked at. When Javier licked his lips, she smirked again and ran her hands lightly up and down his chest. Letting her hands drop to his waist and then to his hips, she molded his skin and through the boxer briefs, touching and probing every part of him, except his stiff package.

He stood perfectly still before her, feigning relaxed indifference. Again, Cressida was impressed. Was this really the puppy dog that had been sleeping in Ainsley’s guest room?

Ophelia slid her hands to either side of his penis without touching it to rub his thighs again, and it bobbed between her hands. Cressida felt her own body aching in sympathy.

“Good boy,” Ophelia whispered. “Let’s see what you have for me. Take his boxers off,” she said over her shoulder to Cressida.

For a moment Cressida was frozen. Then she scrambled over to kneel at Javier’s feet. His spicy scent filled her nose and she felt another wave of lust wash over her. She looked up at him and he gave her an imperceptible nod. She slid his shorts down slowly to release his cock. It was rock hard and just inches from her mouth.

Though she had a sudden desire to taste him, she sat back on her heels and looked to Ophelia.

“Not bad. See if you can make it bigger,” the councilwoman said.

Cressida reached for him, but Ophelia grabbed her shoulder roughly.

“No hands.”

For fuck’s sake.

Cressida nodded and brought her hands back to her sides. She knelt forward and looked up into Javier’s eyes as she eased her tongue along the tip of his penis.

His jaw clenched, but he managed not to make a sound.

Cressida shut her eyes and drew him in deeper, until the whole velvety head was snuggled between her lips. She ran her tongue over him while sucking lightly and tasted a single salty drop.

She opened her eyes and saw the fire in his. Her nipples tightened painfully and her whole middle cramped with desire.

Overcome, she slid him deep into her throat, until tears came to her eyes. Soon she was really putting her championship blow job skills to work, giving him a combination of suction and flicking, licking caresses. He went rigid in her mouth and she could hear his heart hammering in time with his pulsing organ.

Just as she was sure he couldn’t take any more, she felt Ophelia’s hands in her hair, ripping her away.

Javier sucked in his breath in his first sign of weakness. Cressida was oddly proud.

“Much better. Good girl,” Ophelia purred.

A warm feeling spread in Cressida’s chest against her will. It was hard not to be gratified when you had pleased an alpha. Even if she was bat shit crazy and sort of sadistic.

“Now it’s my turn,” Ophelia continued, lying down on Erik’s bed spreadeagled.

Cressida looked over at Javier, whose eyes were fixed on Cressida’s mouth. Poor kid. She nodded her head toward Ophelia and they both approached.

Erik’s bed was really a king-sized mattress on the floor. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford a bed. He was a wolf and felt more comfortable sleeping in a cozy place.

Cressida knelt at the foot of the mattress and Javier followed suit. His nearness filled Cressida with longing. And that pissed her off.

CHAPTER 10

J avier’s heart raced until he could feel his own pulse pounding in his ears. He had heard the bigger boys joke about being with two women at once since he was a kid. The idea of it had always filled him with heady lust. But he had never found himself in that situation.

And he had certainly never pictured it like this.

Cressida was kneeling beside him, her wicked mouth still glistening from what she had done to his poor cock. She smelled like Arbor Mist and the ocean after a storm. He wanted to bury himself in her, not just her mouth or her pussy, he wanted to taste her hair and her chin and tickle the spot behind her kneecaps until she shrieked with laughter.

And though she was pretending not to, he knew to his core that she wanted him, too. Her restless energy practically reverberated into him every time they touched.

Before them, Ophelia’s lily-white legs were spread wide to reveal a thatch of dark pubic hair and the coral lips of her glistening vagina. Her enormous breasts somehow looked even larger when she was lying on her back. Her strong arms stretched behind her head, fingers laced and supporting her neck. She had closed her eyes in total abandon, trusting, with an alpha’s indifference, that the two wolves at her feet would do her no harm.

And she was right. If confidence was sexy, alpha confidence was irresistible. Javier was absolutely quivering with a need to please her and he could see that despite her bravado, Cressida felt the same.

Cressida moved and he turned to her. She was gesturing up and down on Ophelia’s body - indicating that he should choose which half to serve.

He waved her up toward Ophelia’s breasts. He knew she would be more comfortable there. Though he was worried about his own self-control given which job he had left to himself.

Cressida crawled up to Ophelia’s breasts. He was hypnotized by the movement of her round buttocks, and the teasing glimpses of her pink slit peeking back at him each time she lifted her knee.

She buried her face in Ophelia’s left breast without hesitation and snaked her tongue out to tease and caress the large brown nipple. His cock throbbed in response as he remembered the feel of her tongue on his own skin.

He gasped involuntarily, and she opened her eyes without ceasing her assault on Ophelia’s nipples. Her expression was furious.

Fuck.

He had forgotten what he was supposed to be doing.

He obediently lowered his head and began to nuzzle Ophelia’s thighs. She smelled like perfume and raw power. He ran his hands up her legs and spread her open with his hands. Her spicy scent intoxicated him.

Just as he prepared to taste her, he heard the mattress groan and looked up to see Ophelia lift Cressida by the hips and turn her around. Cressida was now on her hands and knees, facing him, with her pussy hovering over Ophelia’s face.

Cressida’s eyes were dark with desire and her lips were swollen. Her tousled hair framed her face and gleamed in the light coming from the bathroom. She was a wanton angel and he had to have her.

Ophelia moaned and tossed her hips and he was pulled back into the task at hand.

He leaned down and gave Ophelia’s pussy a long, lingering lick, while staring straight into Cressida’s eyes.

Her naked desire pierced his soul and his dick hardened to the point of pain.

Ophelia smacked Cressida in the ass, hard.

She froze in confusion for a moment, then seemed to realize what was being asked of her.

She leaned down and joined Javier. He was lapping at Ophelia’s opening. Cressida slid a finger through Ophelia’s curls to find her clit.

Ophelia slapped Cressida’s ass again, so hard the sound echoed off the windows.

“No hands!”

Javier was worried, but Cressida’s expression seemed annoyed rather than pained. She removed her finger and braced her weight on both elbows, pressing her tanned body against Ophelia’s pale one, to get close enough to explore her fully without interfering with Javier’s work. The sight of the two of them melded together did things to him and he closed his eyes and prayed silently not to come.

He clung to Ophelia’s hips and lapped away at her until the danger passed. The ripple of her muscles under her ample curves fascinated Javier. But the scent of her desire was soon so captivating, he couldn’t stop to enjoy anything else in his desperation to stimulate her further.

Ophelia bucked her hips a little, and he saw that Cressida had eased her tongue through Ophelia’s fragrant folds and found what she was looking for immediately. She was already curling her tongue around the little knot, coaxing it delicately until Javier could actually see it swell.

Cressida’s face was an inch from his. He could hear the silken sound of her tongue against Ophelia. Her heart hammered. She must be beside herself with lust. Javier felt like he would explode at any second, without even being touched.

Ophelia’s clit was stiff and swollen now and Cressida licked and sucked at it frantically. Javier had to concentrate to keep up the long slow strokes of his tongue.

“Oh, good girl, good boy,” Ophelia sighed, and Javier felt the burst of warmth in his chest again at having pleased her.

The praise seemed to drive Cressida into a frenzy of unsatisfied lust. The blush on her cheeks deepened, and she took out her frustration on Ophelia’s clitoris.

It was impossibly distended now. She could probably suck on it hard for just a few seconds and...

Then to Javier’s shock, Cressida abandoned Ophelia’s clit entirely and began mouthing weakly around the pulsing nodule – teasing it without touching it.

Oh no.

He could barely contain a sigh of despair as he remembered why they were there in the first place.

To distract Ophelia.

Which meant that they couldn’t make her climax.

None of them could come. Until they could sense that Ainsley was safely out of trouble.

CHAPTER 11

Some days Grace Kwan-Cortez wondered where she had left her common sense. Being a police officer in Tarker’s Hollow required discretion and a certain amount of rule bending. But was she really going to a public hospital in uniform, accompanied by an alpha wolf and a mysterious warlock, to bust out a coma patient who might or might not turn into a wolf?

This was so far beyond the pale that even Dale, the interim sheriff, didn’t know what was going down. She hadn’t had the heart to tell him.

Grace tried not to think about what might happen to her if someone caught on. Instead, she focused on her best friend by her side.

Ainsley was fighting admirably against the pull of the full moon. She walked carefully down the tiled hallway at a measured pace. From all Grace had been told about the subject, Ainsley was probably being tossed back and forth like a rag doll right now between her libido and her desire to shift and run through the woods.

At least they had libido troubles in common.

Grace tried her best not to look at Julian, who was traversing the endless hallway on the other side of her. Since their kiss, Grace had been fighting a full-blown obsession with him. Last night, after the magic she’d expelled, she’d had to soothe herself with a frigid shower and a glass of white wine to wash down the migraine meds. But then the dreams...oh...

The sooner the professor finished his tour of duty and went back to New York, the better. It was getting harder and harder to remember what an ass he was.

At last they reached Sadie’s room. Grace nearly gasped at the sight of her. Sadie’s small figure lay on the hospital bed in complete stillness. She looked tiny without her gardening hat and tools. And without Camilla Parker Bowles.

The small screen beside Sadie showed a steady row of waves and blips, confirming that she was alive and breathing. A huge window gave a view over the parking lot and the cloudy night sky.

Ainsley shuddered and strode over quickly to release the blinds, obliterating the view.

“Now what?” Julian asked.

Before anyone could answer, Ainsley spun around, reminding Grace of a K-9 officer on high alert.

A moment later, a very attractive male nurse appeared in the doorway.

“Grace.” Owen called happily. His cheeks dimpled and his green eyes crinkled with pleasure.

Grace smiled in relief and allowed him to put an arm around her. She couldn’t help notice Julian scowling. Was he jealous?

“How can I help, honey?” Owen asked.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Grace said. “Sadie is one of ours, we need to get her out before the moon.”

Owen whistled.

“Don’t wait until the last minute or anything!”

“We’ve got a lot going on right about now. Ainsley Connor,” Ainsley offered him a hand, which Owen pumped enthusiastically.

“Oh wow, hi! I’m Owen Blaine. I’m dating one of your pack, Brian Stevens? I’m the pack’s liaison at this hospital. I didn’t realize you were coming tonight or I would have made arrangements so this would be easier. It’s good I was on night shift.”

Ainsley smiled. But not as hard as Julian. Wow, he had been jealous. Grace decided to table that thought.

“Why isn’t she getting better?” Ainsley asked.

Owen grabbed Sadie’s chart.

“She was admitted with blunt force trauma to the cranium as well as minor cuts and contusions.” He looked up from the clipboard, shook his head and gave Ainsley a frank look. “She’s been unresponsive ever since. The minor wounds have all healed. But the head trauma hasn’t made any progress and the doctors don’t know why. I’m even more stumped now, knowing what she is. Maybe her age is a factor - maybe she’s not healing as quickly as a young wolf would?”

Ainsley stared at him blankly and Grace could sense that her friend was beating herself up for not knowing more about wolves.

“Owen, listen, what’s the fastest way to get her out of here?” Grace asked quickly. “Without risking your job, of course.”

“Personally,” Owen pursed his lips. “I think the best way is to cover her and say you’re headed for the morgue in the basement. Then sneak her out into the back parking lot. You can use your morgue key. I can cover for this patient’s absence until my shift is up at 8 AM. But you’ve got to get her back here by then.”

Grace tried not to think about how much could go wrong with that plan.

“It’s not like anyone’s likely to miss her,” he added. “She’s only had one visitor.”

“As long as he didn’t have a wolf’s head cane,” Grace joked.

“How did you know?” Owen asked.

Crap. Garrett had been here. Of course he had.

She exchanged a worried glance with Ainsley, who only shrugged. Nothing they could do about it now.

“Thank you for your assistance to the pack,” Ainsley said in her alpha voice. Owen was clearly tickled, but he shrugged his wide shoulders modestly. He opened a cabinet by the window and pulled out two plastic wrapped sets of scrubs.

“Grace is fine in uniform, but the two of you should suit up.”

Ainsley grabbed the simple blue set of scrubs he offered, leaving Julian with a loud geographical print. Grace managed not to giggle as he pulled them on. A look of distaste marred his handsome features.

All of a sudden, the whole crazy scheme seemed like more of a caper than a heist. A lightness crept into Grace’s heart.

“I’m going to take her off the monitors now,” Owen warned. “You’ll hear the beeping but I’m going to override. She’s not on life support, thank goodness, so she’s safe. And I can do this myself.” He pulled suction cups off Sadie’s chest and a plastic clip from her finger.

A series of loud beeps came immediately, then silence as Owen pressed buttons on the monitor’s keypad. Then he removed the tubing from her IV.

“What happens if I don’t remove the port and she shifts?” he asked.

Grace and Ainsley shrugged.

“Better to be safe,” he said, and peeled back the tape holding the port to Sadie’s little hand.

Grace turned her gaze away. She was normally pretty no-nonsense, but something about Sadie’s vulnerability tugged her heartstrings. When she turned back he was smoothing a band aid onto Sadie’s hand in its place.

Owen gently covered Sadie with a sheet in the age-old indication that the bed’s occupant was deceased. Then he looked up at Grace.

“Okay, you have until 7 AM. May the force be with you.”

“Thank you again, Owen,” Grace said, grabbing the end of the bed and pushing it into the hallway.

To reach the elevator they would have to pass about twenty rooms and the nurses’ station. Grace did her best to set a businesslike pace. She had learned, through years of police work, how to put on the visual blinders and strong posture that told civilians not to distract her from her duty. She only hoped that Ainsley and Julian could follow suit.

The fluorescent lights seemed brighter than before and the Halloween decorations on the patients’ doors more garish. Her shoes slapped the tile floor loudly as they approached the nurses’ station.

The constant double beep of the phone lines told her that they were busy tonight. That was a good thing. They would hardly be likely to take special notice of a group of unfamiliar nurses with a gurney.

They passed the bustling desk without incident, and Grace allowed herself to turn back to Ainsley and Julian and give a slight smile.

As if on cue, an elderly lady in a wide open hospital gown came bursting out of the room in front of them and skidded on the floor, hanging onto the doorframe for dear life.

“Help! My roommate is dying!” She grabbed Julian by the arm and shook him hard.

“I- we,” he indicated the gurney helplessly.

“Whoever that was isn’t in a hurry anymore! Rosemary needs you now!”

With that she whisked Julian into the room. Grace caught one last glimpse of his panicked face as he disappeared.

Ainsley looked at Grace and shrugged.

Shit.

Julian couldn’t handle himself in there, Grace was kidding herself if she thought he could. She parked Sadie carefully next to the door and headed into the room, Ainsley trailing close behind.

Inside, the screen for the patient in the hall-side bed was flat-lining. A large woman in a pink hospital gown was reclined on the bed, eyes closed.

“It’s going to be fine,” Julian was saying to the roommate. His hands were on the prone woman’s chest and he was compressing lightly.

Grace was ready to throw in the towel and dash back to the nurse’s station to get a professional when the monitor lit up and the regular blip of a heartbeat reappeared on the screen.

“See? No muss, no fuss?” Julian said to the awestruck roommate. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room with Grace and Ainsley following like ducklings.

Grace was floored.

Magic could do many things, but it couldn’t bring back a life, or start a heart that was stopped. If that were the case no witch would ever die. Julian must be very powerful to have performed such magic.

“How did you do that?” Ainsley half-whispered.

“Oh, her oximeter fell off,” Julian explained. “You know, the thingee on her finger that tracks her heart rate? Happens all the time. I slipped it back on between fake compressions.”

Oh. Smart.

“Are you a real nurse?” Ainsley asked.

“No, no, but I assisted in a hospital many years ago. I’ll tell you about it some other time.”

Grace suddenly took in the empty hallway they were standing in.

The completely empty hallway.

Oh no. Oh god, no.

“Uh, guys,” Grace said, her heart in her mouth. “Guys?”

They turned to her.

“Where’s Sadie?”

The trio looked up and down the corridor, but the gurney was nowhere to be found. A grinning skeleton decoration on the door across the hall mocked them.

Ainsley lifted her nose toward the ceiling, then took off toward the elevator at a run. Grace followed, Julian’s footsteps just behind hers. They rounded the corner to the elevators and came face to face with a male nurse, pushing their gurney.

“Hey, whoa,” the nurse said. “You guys looked like you had your hands full back there, so I thought I’d do you a favor and take this one down to the morgue.”

“Thanks.” Grace grabbed the gurney from him. “But we’ve got it.”

“No skin off my back.” The nurse shrugged. “I’m headed down there anyway, but suit yourself.”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Geriatric Rehab was on the top floor of the hospital, putting them ten stories up.

The elevator was one of the few luxury additions to the sensible 1950’s building. It’s all glass exterior walls gave a spectacular view of Springton Falls. After all the stark lighting and antiseptic tile floors, Grace found the peaceful glimpse of nature soothing.

The nurse squeezed onto the elevator with them and pushed the B button for the Basement. Perfect, but they would have to find a way to ditch him before they snuck out the back door of the morgue.

That shouldn’t be a problem.

Behind Grace, Ainsley sucked in a breath, hard. With so many riders plus the gurney on the elevator, she was pinned against the glass wall of the elevator. Outside, the clouds parted slightly, revealing a sliver of the full moon.

Crap.

Ainsley moaned a little and curled her body away from the glass.

“Are you okay?” the nurse asked.

“Lady troubles,” Grace interjected quickly.

“Oh, er...” the nurse replied.

Thank goodness those two words could shut down any man, even a medical professional. They only needed to make it down ten floors. Ainsley could do this.

A ding announced that the elevator would be making another stop on the 8th floor. Ainsley drew in a slow breath that Grace was sure was meant to be calming. It actually sounded kind of like air being let out of a tire.

Some of that meditation Julian was always pushing would have been a great idea right then.

The doors slid open and a doctor with a neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard entered. He leaned across the gurney and pressed 3.

“Some night,” he said by way of greeting. “Just delivered an eleven-pounder.”

Grace nodded with eyebrows slightly raised to indicate her respect for the gargantuan baby he had brought into the world, then returned her gaze to the view from the elevator. Ainsley breathed slowly, while Julian kneaded her pinky between his thumb and forefinger just below the level of the gurney, so no one could see it but Grace.

A sudden flame of jealousy licked at Grace. She pushed it aside in frustration. Ainsley loved Erik. And Grace did not love Julian.

Just then, the clouds parted to reveal half of the harvest moon. It was so large it seemed to pulse, its radiance bleeding out to color the sky.

Ainsley’s legs buckled and Julian caught her deftly in his arms. She made a sound that was half cry, half growl.

“Good god,” the doctor said.

“Lady troubles,” the nurse replied.

“Cafeteria food,” Julian said at the same time.

“We think it’s a little of each,” Grace laughed awkwardly.

“Yeah, that would do it,” the doctor said, shaking his head. “Poor kid.”

The ding of the elevator told them they were on the third floor.

“Feel better,” the doctor said as he stepped off.

Just as the doors were sliding shut again, a hand shot between them.

“Hold it for me!” a deep voice said.

Grace took a deep breath and tried not to panic. She knew who it was by the voice. She had worked with him many times.

The doors opened and Dr. Adam Wilson, the lead coroner, stepped on.

“Adam, hey!” She greeted him in her best impression of a relaxed voice as the doors slid closed once more.

A quick glance told her that Ainsley was barely holding it together. Julian had released his hold on her. She was staring blankly into the interior wall of the elevator and trembling lightly. She would be no help to Grace in getting out of this mess.

“I see you have something for me,” Adam joked. His tanned cheeks dimpled and he took a sip from his styrofoam coffee cup.

Grace glanced down at the gurney.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

Near the bottom end of the gurney, a furry gray tail peeked out.

“How are you?” Grace chirped, trying to keep his attention on herself and off the gurney. “Are you getting any time off for the holidays this year?”

Adam looked pleased to be asked such a personal question. Grace usually kept things very professional with him. He was known to be a bit of a ladies’ man and she didn’t want him getting the wrong impression.

Oh well.

“I’ve got a bit of time off here and there. What are your plans?” he asked with a wolfish grin.

The elevator brightened as the clouds revealed the rest of the moon.

Ainsley moaned loudly, causing the coroner to look away from Grace.

Time slowed to a crawl. Grace’s heart constricted as she prepared for him to see the tail and rip the sheet off the gurney.

She could kiss any hope of ever becoming sheriff goodbye.

Julian reached out his hand and jostled Adam’s coffee cup.

The steaming black liquid splashed all over the coroner’s white lab coat. Adam cursed and tried to wipe it off himself.

“What’s going on?” the nurse asked.

Grace almost jumped out of her skin, she had nearly forgotten he was still standing beside her.

“Oh, wow, sorry, man,” Julian said in an innocent voice.

She quickly pressed 1. There was a ding and the doors slid open.

“I thought you said this patient was going to the morgue,” the nurse said as Grace, Julian, Ainsley, and the gurney raced out into the main lobby of the hospital.

“Her prognosis has improved,” Julian called back.

Grace had her eyes on the front door. Twenty paces. They could make it. They would make it.

“What’s going on with this patient?” the blonde at the front desk asked, pushing her pink glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Police business,” Grace flashed her badge.

“What do you mean-” the blonde began.

Julian raised one hand in the air and waved to her.

“Ignosce,” he murmured.

The pink glasses dropped down the bridge of the blonde’s nose again but this time she didn’t bother to push them up. Instead she turned back to her computer monitor with a confused expression.

Grace pushed and ran. The automatic glass doors opened before them and the cold night air washed over her skin.

Ainsley pounded past them toward the trees that separated the parking lot from the open space beyond, bordering the falls. Well, good for her, she’d made it. She’d get back to Tarker’s Hollow on foot. Or on paw, or whatever.

Grace turned the gurney toward the rear lot where her car was parked and took off as quickly as she could without endangering the furry body on the gurney. Julian jogged alongside in companionable silence.

Grace had to ask.

“Did you Jedi mind trick that receptionist?” She couldn’t help but grin. Really, in spite of the circumstances, it was hard not to geek out. Julian was amazing. Really, really amazing.

“Sorry, I don’t really get the reference. I’m not a Star Trek fan,” he replied.

A squirrel raced up one of the weeping cherries that lined the parking lot and Sadie’s tail moved slightly with what Grace prayed was just a breeze.

“We have some movies to catch up on,” Grace said as they took off to her car at a run. She tried not to think about what it would be like to have the elderly wolf wake up in her Civic.

CHAPTER 12

A insley crashed through the college woods in the form of a large red wolf, taking the long way home to end up behind Princeton Ave so she could sneak in her own back door.

She hadn’t anticipated shifting, and now she had no clothes waiting at the edge of the woods. She figured a wolf sneaking into her yard would raise fewer eyebrows than her naked human form.

Erik would have known that she would need to shift and would have helped her plan better. She tried not to think about how many things would be different if Erik were here.

The kids next door were inside, but crowing so loudly she could hear them from the other side of the picket fence where she was crouched. The fact that they were awake was a good thing - it meant the parents weren’t sitting around staring out the window.

Quick as a thought, she leapt over the fence, landed in the middle of the backyard and sailed from the foot of the porch stairs to the backdoor in one bound.

The neighbors’ German Shepherd exploded in a hurricane of rapid fire barks.

Crap.

Ainsley instinctively growled back.

Immediately the pet silenced itself. At least someone thought Ainsley was in control.

Before anything else bad could happen, she slid upward into her human form. The instant she had a thumb again she grasped the knob, twisted, and slipped into the kitchen. She wondered if there were some sort of door opening system her wolf could use. The accessibility feature at the mall was just a big button that made the door slide open - surely there was a residential application?

Ainsley tabled that idea and dashed up the stairs. She probably had about five minutes to get dressed before Grace and Julian arrived with Sadie. The car ride was a longer distance since they had to drive around the falls and woods.

Ainsley had just reached her room and pulled on a bra and panties when there was a knock on the door.

“Hang on!” she yelled, stepping into a pair of yoga pants.

The banging sounded again, more urgently.

Something must be wrong.

Ainsley shook her head and grabbed her old Timberwolves hoodie off its hanger. She slid it over her head as she traversed the narrow hallway and pushed her arms through the sleeves as she flew down the stairs.

She pulled the door wide open, then staggered backward a step when she saw Justin, one of ex-sheriff Clive Warren’s old sidekicks framed in the threshold.

“Justin,” she heard herself say.

Ainsley knew that Justin’s loyalty was all hers now. But something about the way he was looking at her made her distinctly uncomfortable.

“Hey, Ainsley, how’s it going?” he said.

Ainsley studied him carefully. He didn’t seem to be drunk.

“I’m fine, Justin. What’s wrong?”

“Oh nothing. I just...felt like I should come right away. Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine,” she said, realizing that there was something odd about his behavior after all. He kept licking his lips and unconsciously running his hands across his abs.

“Oh,” he said, and tugged at the bottom of his t-shirt, pulling it tight around his muscled chest. “Do you mind if I stay? I just have this feeling that I’m supposed to be here, to protect you.”

“Sure,” Ainsley said, “you can stay until Grace gets here.”

Justin smiled and sauntered inside. He was only inches away from her.

“Please sit down,” Ainsley gestured to her father’s reading chair. “Have you ever had this feeling before?”

Justin shook his head and gave her puppy dog eyes.

“Okay, well just stay there,” Ainsley said. “I have stuff to do upstairs.”

She headed back up. Something was off, but there was no time to worry about it. Grace and Julian were coming and she had to make up a bedroom for Sadie since Javier had the guest room.

Before she reached the top of the stairs, there was another knock on the door. Too late, they were here already.

She made it to the living room just as the knocks on the door turned into pounding. She swung the door open again.

Justin’s best friend, Will, was there. That made sense, since Justin was there.

But Stan Snyder, a low-ranking middle-aged pack member from all the way across town with whom Ainsley had never exchanged more than a few words, was standing beside him. He seemed an unlikely companion to the other two.

“Ainsley,” Will said. Before he could say more, Stan shoved him unceremoniously to the side.

“My alpha, you needed my help?” Stan asked.

In the street behind them, Ainsley make out four or five more shadowy figures making their way down Princeton Avenue toward her. Her nose told her they were packmates.

“I’m fine. What is with everyone tonight?” Ainsley asked.

Will had approached the door again. His gaze locked onto hers intensely. “I thought you called me,” he said. “You need me. I- I’m supposed to be here.”

“No you’re not, pipsqueak!” Stan admonished. “Go home! I’m protecting Ainsley tonight.”

Just as they began to argue in earnest another figure dashed up the porch stairs. It was MacGregor.

“Ainsley!” he called.

“Let me guess, you’re wondering if I need help?” Ainsley asked as politely as she could. MacGregor was a friend.

“Gentlemen, may I have Ainsley’s ear for a moment?” he asked Will and Stan. They looked like they were ready to fight him just for asking.

“Yes,” Ainsley said.

Will and Stan shuffled slowly to the front lawn where they glared at each other.

“What’s going on, Mac?” Ainsley asked, realizing too late that she had used Erik’s nickname for him.

MacGregor gave himself a slight shake.

“Ainsley, you’re the alpha and...you don’t have a mate. Every male wolf in town is probably going to come to you if you don’t drive them away. Not that you should. You should pick one, quickly, and do what needs to be done.”

Ainsley stared at him, horrified. She could smell the arousal of the men. The air was choked with it. How had she not noticed that?

“You won’t be choosing a mate for life!” he said quickly. “But you probably need to obey the moon. The desire will weaken you if you don’t feed it.”

As Ainsley tried to take in this information, she noticed that MacGregor was gazing raptly at her lips. The moon pulled at her then. She hadn’t realized it in her panic, but it had been pulling at her all along.

“Ainsley, I’m sorry,” he said with a pained look. “But I’m compelled to ask. I cherish and respect you. Will you allow me to give you solace in your time of need?”

Just then, there was a pounding on the back door and Ainsley was shaken out of her reverie.

“Go away!” she said in her deepest alpha voice. “All of you, go home. I do not need your protection.”

She closed her eyes and sent out the message to each of the throbbing green points of light from her pack that reached to her, submissively, longingly.

No. Enough.

“So sorry, Ainsley,” MacGregor whispered to her as he turned to leave.

“What about me?” Justin asked from the living room.

“Yes, you too,” she said. “Out!”

He slunk out the door and joined the others on the front lawn. Though they had left the house, none of them seemed to be leaving the yard.

“What are you doing?” Ainsley asked.

“I don’t know. But I don’t want to leave,” Will said helplessly. “Please, don’t make me.”

“Fine. You can all stay in the yard, but you can’t come in,” she said, wondering if it was the right answer.

A good alpha has to understand what her pack can and can’t do, and be sure not to ask more of them than they can give.

Erik’s words rang in her head and she felt a degree of peace.

Just then, her cell phone buzzed in her pocket.

Cressida.

WE DID OUR BEST. Ophelia wants you, she’s heading your way.

CRAP.

She had almost forgotten that she had to deal with Ophelia in all of this. It just wasn’t fair.

The sound of Grace’s Civic pulling up outside pulled Ainsley out of her self-pity and got her moving. She dashed out to the porch.

The men on her front lawn had stopped pacing to stare at the commotion coming from the car.

Grace and Julian were whispering heatedly to each other. Julian was carrying something wrapped in a blanket.

“Change of plans,” Ainsley said. “Take her to your place. Ophelia is coming here. I’ll try to head her off.”

“But, why are all these men -?” Grace began.

“No time to explain!” Ainsley yelled over her shoulder.

CHAPTER 13

J ulian tucked Sadie into the backseat of Grace’s tiny car as gently as he could.

“What the hell is going on?” Julian whispered.

A group of men wordlessly pacing Ainsley’s front garden, with more heading down Princeton to join them. They didn’t seem threatening, exactly, but there was something driving them that made it feel like their silence could explode into violence at the slightest spark.

“Just move,” Grace told him as she slid behind the wheel.

The sound of her seatbelt strap sliding tight against her slender hip did things to Julian that almost made him ashamed.

He hopped into the passenger seat and she began to pull out before his own seat belt clicked. He was glad to see that she wasn’t driving quickly or carelessly, though. She pulled out onto Princeton slowly, with admirable restraint given the circumstances.

He glanced over and took her in. Grace’s posture was excellent as usual. The only sign of the tension she felt was a slight tightening in the corner of her lovely mouth.

“Now what?” he asked, wondering how the young woman would handle their major change in plans. Grace seemed like the kind of person who always had a plan.

“We’ll take her to my apartment. Camilla Parker Bowles will be glad to see her.”

Julian nodded. It hadn’t occurred to him to wonder what had happened to the little dog after Charley escaped. He didn’t exactly picture Grace as a dog person. But taking responsibility for the orphaned animal without making a big deal about it seemed in character for the steadfast friend he was getting to know.

They pulled up to an old Victorian right around the corner on Elm. Grace tucked her car into the driveway, triggering a floodlight which illuminated the backyard. On the street behind them, a man walked intently toward Princeton. He must be reporting for prowling duty in Ainsley’s garden.

He thought to ask if Ainsley would be okay, but he knew Grace would never leave her friend in danger.

Grace hopped out of the car in a heartbeat. She headed toward the back door of the house, but when she reached the porch, she leapt onto the railing like a cat, and leaned out over the forsythia bushes. What could she be doing?

Her small hand snaked out, and when the light went off, he realized she had unscrewed the bulb on the motion sensor floodlight.

Smart.

She returned to the car and placed a finger to her lips, unnecessarily. Julian knew this was a small town and if the Victorian was chopped into apartments, the neighbors were likely to be intensely nosy about each other’s comings and goings.

Once again, he scooped Sadie up with an arm under her neck and the other under her hips. She was blessedly small, for a wolf.

As stealthily as he was able, he followed Grace to the back door and carried Sadie up three flights of stairs. At each landing, his heart raced at the idea that a neighbor might peek out of a doorway.

They made it up to Grace’s apartment without incident. She opened the door to a very tidy little flat with a fireplace and charming sloped ceilings.

Grace slipped out of her shoes and padded through the living room, to a bedroom on the other side. Julian followed as quietly as he could. He couldn’t help but notice the lingering aroma of actual home-cooked meals in the kitchen. Most women Grace’s age seemed to eat out of a microwave box or a take-out container these days. It was refreshing to think of Grace humming and preparing a quiet meal.

Once they were in the bedroom, Grace turned on a small table lamp, revealing a twin bed with a simple down comforter, a cane rocking chair, and a trio of framed pictures on a pine bureau.

He raised his eyebrows and gestured to the bed. Did she want this shaggy bundle on her clean linens?

Grace nodded, so he lowered wolf-Sadie to the bed. For the first time, he pulled back the sheet that covered her.

Grace stepped forward and they both gazed down at the prone form of a large grey wolf. Sadie’s dark whiskers quivered like she was tracking something in a dream. Her wide front paws twitched slightly as if to dig at Grace’s snow white sheets.

Julian couldn’t resist reaching down to stroke her thick pelt. It was softer than it looked, and warm, as if she had been lying in the sun. But Sadie didn’t respond.

Grace placed a hand on his arm. An electric current ran through him and he closed his eyes. She gasped and removed her hand.

By the time he opened his eyes again she was gone, but he heard the sound of tiny paws skittering across the pine floors of the flat.

Camilla Parker Bowles tore into the room and sailed through the air to land at Sadie’s side. Immediately, she flopped herself down next to the wolf and tucked her tiny snout into the indentation between Sadie’s shoulder and head. Mournfully, she looked up at Julian for a long moment, then closed her eyes.

Julian backed away from the sad scene as he heard Grace’s light steps in the kitchen.

“She’s crated when I’m not here. I don’t know what else to do. She doesn’t seem to mind,” Grace explained.

“They like the feeling of a den,” Julian said, quoting some dog trainer or other.

“Mmm,” Grace said, but her expression was uncertain.

Julian knew he should just go. He had managed to spend two hours with Grace without screwing it up royally. It would be great to leave on an up-note for once.

“I guess I should--” he began.

“Have you eaten?” she asked at the same time. She smiled. It was a nervous smile but her eyes were hopeful.

“I haven’t eaten, no,” he said, hoping it wasn’t a mistake, but not really caring, especially if staying might mean another smile. “I guess I just didn’t think about it, what with all the kidnapping and werewolves and whatnot.”

“Yes, you’re new to Tarker’s Hollow,” Grace nodded, “I’m sure it can be overwhelming at first.”

“At first?” he asked. “Do you mean to tell me that this was just an average Saturday night for you?”

Grace laughed and ran a hand across her cheek to smooth a stray tendril back up into her gleaming bun.

“No, tonight was actually pretty crazy, even for Tarker’s Hollow.” She turned and looked into his eyes earnestly. “I’m really glad you were there.”

“Me too,” Julian managed as his heart hiccuped. “So, what’s for dinner?”

“Something easy...Pancakes?” she asked.

“Perfect,” he nodded.

“Okay, but I need to change first,” she said, and indicated the stool at the counter.

Julian smiled and pulled it up close to the counter so he could watch her work when she returned.

Grace disappeared into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Julian tried not to imagine her taking off the uniform, but knowing she was naked just a few steps away drove him more than a little crazy. He looked around the kitchen, desperate for a distraction.

A small round tin on the counter drew his attention. He pulled it over and as he did, he thought he heard bells ringing in the distance.

The tin itself was a simple thing, meant for Christmas cookies, although it was a bit too early for that. The picture on the lid depicted the creche, with baby Jesus in his manger, and the animals watching over him, shaggy and gentle.

Julian took a look around. The tin seemed out of place in Grace’s carefully appointed apartment.

What could be inside?

He glanced up at the door, but it gave him no clue as to how much longer she would be changing clothes.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Julian spun the lid, applying gentle pressure. He found the contents less mysterious than he’d hoped.

Simple cookies, shaped like pigs. Their aroma was heavenly. Surely Grace wouldn’t mind if he helped himself to one while he waited.

Grace’s bedroom door flew open before he had gotten the cookie halfway to his mouth. She gasped and stared at him in horror.

“I am SO sorry,” he said, quickly returning the pig to the tin with its brethren. “I saw the pretty tin and I was curious. And then they seemed so delicious.”

“That’s okay,” she said breathlessly, in a way that made him sure it was not okay, though he couldn’t imagine why. It was embarrassing that she’d caught him looking at her cookie tin, but it wasn’t like he’d been pawing through her lingerie or anything.

“They smell delightful. Did you make them?”

“No, my abuela - my grandmother- did,” she explained as she replaced the lid to the tin and put it on the counter, out of his reach.

“That’s nice,” he said carefully.

“She’s a good cook,” Grace said, a bit more calmly.

Julian looked on as she began to gather ingredients for pancakes, glad the crisis seemed to be averted. She had changed into a cream colored scoop neck t-shirt and a pair of black yoga pants. So she wasn’t trying to impress him. Her hair was still up in the bun. He longed for her to take it down.

“Do you cook often?” he asked, noticing with approval she had gotten out flour and baking powder, instead of a box mix.

“It’s relaxing,” she replied.

As she cracked the first egg, it slipped from her fingers. Without a thought, Julian murmured a hovering spell and stopped it from crashing into the bowl, shell and all.

“Hey!” she said, and twirled her wrist in the air, commanding the egg to hover backward, toward herself, as though she were going to hurl it back at him.

An adorable spark of mischief danced in her eyes.

“No,” he cried.

“You’re afraid of a little egg?” she teased.

“No, but I remember what that magic does to you.”

His words hung in the air a moment. Too late, he remembered that Grace hadn’t been the one to tell him about the price of her magic.

“Would that be so bad for you?” Her eyes narrowed and she lifted the egg even higher. “Would being with a woman with lowly cottage magic be such a punishment?”

“Of course not,” he said.

Julian wasn’t sure if that was the right answer or if it was a trick question, but at this point he was finished playing games. Time to lay the cards on the table.

“I want you, Grace. Badly. And I think you want me too. But I need to know the feelings are coming from you, and not because of the magic.”

In her surprise at his words, she let go of her hold on the egg. It dropped out of the air and splattered on the linoleum.

Grace met his gaze, and her expression softened. For the first time, Julian felt hope. Then she appeared to get hold of herself.

“Why do you like me so much?” she asked, reaching for a handful of paper towels. “You don’t respect me.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because every time I see you, you manage to insult my family’s magic.”

“I respect you personally, as a friend to Ainsley, as a police officer and as a woman,” Julian said. “But it’s true that I don’t think you are getting as much out of your magic as you could if you studied formally. You have an incredible gift that ought to be developed. Your...trouble is a perfect example of why.”

“If it hadn’t been for my magic, where would Erik Jensen be?” she shot back as she bent to clean up the broken egg.

“You were amazing that night,” he said. “I’ll give you that. But it was too much. You could have died.”

Grace deposited the mess in the trash bin, and retrieved another egg from the fridge.

“You’re right,” she said, and paused, considering. “But I didn’t. And neither did Erik.”

“You were very brave,” he told her truthfully.

She smiled at that, and reached for the tendril of hair that kept slipping from her bun. Before Julian knew what he was doing, he grabbed her wrist.

He was close to her now, so close he could feel her pulse hammering through that delicate wrist as fast as a bird’s.

“Put the egg down. No more cooking. And no more putting up your hair. I want to see it down.”

He waited for her to argue, or resist. She was the very definition of a modern woman. She would probably be offended at him telling her what to do. Or worse.

But control meant everything to him. And seeing her surrender hers again was all he wanted. This time all for him - not for the magic.

He heard the egg touch the bowl as she put it down. It was like a concerto.

“Take your hair down,” he said, letting go of her wrist.

Her eyes widened, but she obeyed him, slipping her fingers upward to pull the pins out of the bun, one by one. It was the most sensuous thing he’d ever seen.

“Good girl,” he breathed.

Her eyes sparkled with pleasure at his approval.

She pulled out the last pin and then slipped out the elastic. A toss of her head unleashed a cascade of dark hair. It was long, longer than he had imagined - smooth and silky and fragrant. He wanted to bury his face in it, lose himself in the lush femininity she hid from the world, from everyone but Julian.

She stood before him with an inscrutable expression. He admired how relaxed she was under his command. Like she was born to bend to his will.

He reached out and ran his hands through her hair. The silken strands flowed between his fingers like liquid. The scent of jasmine washed over him.

Grace closed her eyes in pleasure at his touch and he was nearly overcome with the way his heart pounded in response.

He leaned forward and brushed her lips lightly with his once, twice. On the third sweep she sighed and her lips parted.

Blazing with satisfaction, he grasped her jaw with one hand and devoured her mouth, sinking his tongue into her in just the rhythm he wanted to possess her with.

He wrapped his other hand around a thick ribbon of her gorgeous hair and used it to drag her closer. Her heart pounded harshly now and her breathing deepened. His own body screamed demands, but he ignored them to concentrate on Grace.

She trembled in his arms, her small body warm and welcoming.

Julian slid his hand down from her jaw to follow the curve of her ribcage to her hip. She was all hard angles, but he could feel her willing her body to soften for him.

Breaking their kiss, he pulled back slightly and looked into her eyes again.

Grace panted lightly, her lips pink and swollen from his attention. Her eyes were endless dark pools.

Julian could hardly believe he was about to ask her to stop.

CHAPTER 14

A insley hoped Grace and Julian would figure out what to do about Sadie.

There was no way she was going to let Ophelia come to her house and see the craziness in her front yard, so Ainsley would have to find her quickly.

She ran a few feet into the woods behind her house, then peeled off her clothes as fast as she could and stashed them next to a tree.

The moonlight on her bare skin aroused and intoxicated her. She took a panicked breath, then pursed her lips and let it out slowly. She needed to put these feelings aside.

Inhaling deeply again, she tried to catch Ophelia’s scent. The smells of the dozen males milling around the front lawn of her own house overpowered everything.

Her eyes closed and she dropped into her auburn wolf.

She sucked in the night air until she could feel it cool her hips.

Still, she smelled the males out front and the squirrel in the oak above her, and the neighbor’s dog, and the exhaust from a car’s fumes a few blocks away. But no Ophelia.

Frustrated, she planted her paws shoulder width apart, and shook herself until her pelt rippled loosely around her ribcage.

Then she sniffed the air again.

Somewhere, woven into the scents of the woods, was something unfamiliar.

Ainsley trotted towards it. The underbrush scratched at her thick pelt, soothing and distracting her at once.

The scents of other wolves in the woods began to tickle her nose. There were so many.

Ainsley had spent most of the last full moon in Erik’s bed. And on his floor, and up on his kitchen countertop, and out on his porch, and even once in his front yard when they were trying to get to the car to run to the grocery store for steaks.

Would all the wolves of Tarker’s Hollow be out in the woods tonight? What would they be doing besides running?

Not knowing the answer made Ainsley nervous. She picked up the pace.

After another five minutes she began to worry. She should have found Ophelia by now.

Desperately, she hoped it wasn’t a test. She pictured Ophelia with a stop watch, shaking her head as Ainsley proved what a lousy tracker she was.

Every cell in Ainsley’s body sprang to life. In an instant, she was invigorated and pulled with magnetic force in the opposite direction.

Her clever paws followed the wordless command and she found herself hurtling through the trees, each leap making her more anxious to take the next.

Ophelia must be calling her.

The power of the call was unquestionable. Obeying it wasn’t just a necessity though, it filled Ainsley’s chest with a sweet, pleasant sensation.

Instinctively, Ainsley fought the warm glow. Until moments before she became the alpha, Ainsley had never been a wolf. She had never answered to a superior animal. It was distasteful to her, and the appeal of it made it feel sinister.

But she didn’t stop following the command, that would have been unthinkable. As she sailed over the pine needles, paws barely touching the ground, Ainsley wondered if her own call was the only reason anyone in the pack liked her, the only reason they obeyed her.

The cool scent of water greeted her as she felt Ophelia’s pull hum in her bones.

She was close.

The muddy bank of the creek sucked at her paws as she skidded to a halt in front of a large silver wolf. Before her eyes, the wolf morphed upward into a woman.

Ophelia.

Ainsley didn’t shift. She wasn’t sure what was required but she was secure in the knowledge that the other alpha would make her wishes known.

Ophelia towered above her like a statue, her pale skin glowing in the moonlight. A huge scar rent the skin over her left breast.

Ainsley thought of the scar on her own shoulder. A souvenir from her first fight as alpha. The small amount of silver in Clive’s bullet had nearly killed her. Who had been crazy enough to do something like that to Ophelia?

She stared up at the woman, the alpha’s alpha, with open admiration.

What Ophelia looked like told Ainsley almost nothing in comparison to how she smelled. The spicy scent of Cressida, and the woodsy smell of Javier covered her. Ophelia also smelled like meat, and an irksome, cloying perfume. Why would any wolf wear such silly, smelly stuff?

A purplish musk of satisfaction emanated from Ophelia’s pores, telling Ainsley that her superior had enjoyed the packmates she had offered her.

Ainsley’s chest puffed out in pride.

“Rise, Ainsley,” Ophelia commanded, her contralto voice bouncing off the trees.

Ainsley rose out of her dawn-colored wolf and stood before Ophelia, naked.

And that was when she realized where they were.

Ophelia had called her to the special place where she and Erik had played as children. The place where they had drawn Ainsley’s alpha.

Furious, Ainsley tried to push her anger down.

“What have you been doing, Ainsley Connor?” Ophelia asked.

Shit.

“Tending to some pack business,” Ainsley said. “You enjoyed my gift?”

“I did.” Ophelia’s lip quirked up. “But was there really no one left to mate with the alpha of Tarker’s Hollow?”

Ainsley racked her brain for a reason why she wouldn’t mate during the full moon. A reason that wouldn’t make her less an alpha in Ophelia’s eyes.

“Listen, Ainsley.” The older woman put her arm around Ainsley’s shoulder and began to walk her along the path of the creek. “I know you have a mate, a favorite. And I admire that you sent him away in the middle of the full moon, by the way. He was quite flustered. He barely said goodbye, he was so concerned with following your orders to the letter.”

Ainsley’s heart dropped at the mention of her mate. He had left on his own. Not because he thought Ainsley wasn’t brave enough to stand up to Ophelia, but because he knew she wasn’t strong enough to send him away.

Erik was gone. He was really gone.

“As the alpha,” Ophelia continued. “You can’t deny yourself. You mate with whomever you want, whenever you want. That’s the way it is done.”

“I don’t want to mate with anyone else right now,” Ainsley replied as lightly as she could.

“Yes, you do,” Ophelia replied.

Ainsley’s whole body ached with a wordless longing. Trembling, she clung to the thought of Erik. His dark eyes through long lashes, his kind smile.

“It’s not right,” Ainsley said.

“You’re an anomaly, Ainsley. And that’s the problem here. You really don’t know how this works, because you’re not really a wolf. Not yet.”

“Of course I’m a wolf!”

“Alright then, smart girl, how do you think you left things today with your beta?”

“What?”

“I’m sure you’re familiar with J. D. MacGregor - the man who served your father faithfully and who has attended you with infinite patience and respect during your precarious tenure as alpha. How do you think he felt when you left him in your front yard to pace the grass with the omegas?”

“I--”

“You didn’t think about it. Right?”

Ainsley nodded, tears prickling her eyes. How could she walk away from MacGregor that way, without deference for his position in the pack? If she had thought about it, she would have invited him in. Though of course, she wouldn’t have slept with him.

Ophelia stopped walking and turned Ainsley brusquely to face her.

“Wrong! You didn’t need to think about it, Ainsley. Bringing him into the house for show and not fucking him would be as bad as leaving him on the lawn. We are wolves. We are not people.”

Ainsley was nearly cowed, but a tiny core of strength allowed her to pipe up.

“But, Ophelia, we are people most of the time.”

Ophelia smiled a bitter smile.

“So, Ainsley, when you became the alpha of this pack, were you elected by a majority?”

“No, of course not.”

“How did you accomplish that most impressive feat?”

“Mating with Erik.”

“Mating with Erik.” Ophelia nodded, and took a few more steps along the creek bed. “And what about Cressida Crow? She’s a powerful wolf in her way, but an unlikely friend for an alpha. What happened to make her your closest female packmate?”

Ainsley colored, but Ophelia didn’t look back at her, or force her to acknowledge what they both knew - that Ainsley had succumbed to her wolf and had an unexpected interlude with the girl who had been her rival for Erik’s attention until that moment.

“On the other hand, you tried to use your head with Clive Warren. He was a loose cannon, but also a promising young male - an increasingly rare commodity in Tarker’s Hollow. What happened there?”

“You know what happened.”

“Yes, I do. But do you? Ainsley, you’re a smart girl, but you’re missing the forest for the trees here. You are a wolf, all the time, even when you’re not shaped like one. And life is easier for you when you act like a wolf.” Ophelia’s eyes sparkled like obsidian in the moonlight. “Hell, it’s more fun too.”

Desperately, Ainsley tried to hear the sound of Erik’s laughter but it was too late. She was in the thrall of the alpha before her.

“I’m not asking you to sleep with another wolf tonight,” Ophelia continued. “But I’m telling you that you must stop this over-complicated human thinking.” She raised her arms in a joint-popping stretch, letting the pale moonlight bathe her ample breasts.

“Let’s just run,” said Ophelia. “You’ll look at this the right way when you stop listening to your brain and start answering to your wolf.”

With that, Ophelia melted back into her lupine form and disappeared into the trees in a flash of silver fur.

Ainsley was a flame-colored wolf before she finished a breath. Now that she was closer to the rich scent of the soil and warmed by silken fur, other problems did seem to fade.

Filled with a burst of moon drunk energy, Ainsley bounded into the trees to catch her leader. When she caught up to Ophelia, perhaps she would nip playfully at her heels to see what would happen.

Ophelia liked her, it was easy to know that when Ainsley was a wolf. She could almost taste the tomato-red smell of Ophelia’s pleasure at teaching her.

CHAPTER 15

Grace stood before Julian, trembling with desire.

Why had he stopped kissing her?

She would have liked to kiss him all night, maybe even all year.

He’d said he wanted her. Badly. The memory of his words washed over her, warming her from the inside. She searched his blue eyes for a clue about what she had done wrong.

“That business with the egg,” he demanded. “Was that enough?”

His words didn’t even make sense. What business?

Oh.

“No, that wasn’t enough,” she whispered.

The magic wasn’t the source of her desire.

She didn’t know exactly why she wanted him - needed him. She had never felt this way about anyone before. It couldn’t be love, because she didn’t know him, and what she did know, she mostly didn’t like. But it sure felt the way love was supposed to feel.

“Good girl,” he said again.

Every cell in her body bubbled over with joy, though she was a strong woman, and had never wanted anyone to call her ‘good girl’ before.

“Do you have another bedroom?” he asked.

She ought to have thought he was presumptuous, asking a question like that when they were only kissing and she was supposed to be making pancakes. Instead she felt sweet relief.

Until she remembered that her bed was full of canines.

“No, that’s the only one,” she replied.

He smiled and she figured he must have heard the regret in her voice.

“Come on,” he told her, “I have an idea!”

He took her hand and led her into the living room.

Gazing at the sofa, he muttered, “Disponat vobis.”

The sofa unfurled like it was stretching after a long nap. Branches grew out of its back, and before Grace’s eyes it morphed into a bed with a railing made of living trees.

“Succendunt ignem,” he said to the fireplace.

To Grace’s wonder, a small fire appeared in it. She stepped forward to look at it. The flames danced merrily, and the air in the room was already getting toasty.

She sensed him moving behind her, then felt his hand on her arm and his warm breath in her ear.

“Is this okay? I’ll turn it back into a sofa in the morning.”

“It’s beautiful,” she told him.

“You are beautiful,” he whispered, and ran his hand down her arm. Her skin tingled in its wake.

He wrapped his other arm around her waist and held her that way for a long time as they stood together, gazing into the magic fire.

Julian slid one hand up her chest to curl around her neck. His hand was warm and though the position was unusual, Grace didn’t feel threatened. She could feel her own pulse against his hand. Or maybe it was his pulse.

“You’re brave and you’re beautiful. And you have such incredible restraint. I’m going to enjoy stripping that away from you, my love,” he whispered. And though his words were smooth, his voice was harsh with desire.

The hair on the back of Grace’s neck lifted and she stopped breathing.

Since she was a teenager, she had tormented herself about why boys never made her feel anything. Was she the ice queen the boys called her?

Then she’d had the magic. Its side effects made her realize that, yes, she did like boys. Just not any of the ones she’d met - not without the magic, at least.

In college she’d had what looked like a serious boyfriend. They were exclusive, she lost her virginity to him, they shared interests. But she wasn’t really shattered when he broke up with her after spring break of their senior year. He was going to medical school and she was headed back to Tarker’s Hollow.

Landon was another guy who seemed like a good choice. He was nice and about her age, and he had an interesting job. But even after the magic induced session they’d had, she was left feeling nothing.

And now here she was with Julian. A man she had never really trusted. A man who insulted her at every turn.

His hand was literally wrapped around her neck.

She should feel scared, she should feel offended, she should feel creeped out, or at the very least annoyed.

Instead she felt gloriously alive.

Time seemed to slow down as Julian pressed the fingers of his left hand to her throat and slid his right hand up to caress her belly.

“So tense, my angel, so tight. I know what you need,” he whispered.

Grace closed her eyes and tried not to whimper. The anticipation wasn’t building, it was rocketing, exploding. Her sex was suddenly too swollen, her nipples too hard. Out of nowhere she was on the edge of desperation. And she feared his touch as much as she hungered for it.

“Easy, darling.”

He pulled his hand across her midriff and slid it behind her. Then she felt his bladed hand slide between her buttocks, the tips of his fingers barely touching her sex from behind.

She tried not to mortify herself by angling against him, but it took all her control and she moaned softly.

Instantly, his hand tightened on her throat.

“Good girl,” he whispered again.

She felt his hand leave her posterior and nearly sighed in relief. But then he slipped his fingers under the hem of her t-shirt.

With a languidness that was almost unbearable, he splayed his hand across her abdomen. His skin was warm and dry against hers and she felt her insides clench.

His other hand released her neck, but she could still feel it there, its afterimage like a collar.

Julian turned her to face him. His lip turned up at one corner, another sign of his control - she was drowning in need and he was amused. He lifted her shirt over her head like she was a child.

For once, she had no dread about her body. She knew without looking that she was exactly right for him. So she stood proudly, offering what she had.

His sigh of delight told her he was pleased. She smiled up at him and his nostrils flared.

“Turn around,” he said gently.

She obeyed immediately and felt his warm hands unhooking her bra, smoothing the straps down her arms.

He nuzzled her neck from behind, sending tingles from her scalp to the tips of her toes.

His hands traveled down her body, slipping the tiny lace bra from around her wrists and then further still, pushing down the yoga pants to reveal the strip of lace that was the last thing covering Grace.

She shivered, waiting for him to touch her again.

“Come, darling,” he said, taking her hand. He led her to the bed.

It was both her sofa and not her sofa. The trees seemed so real, she wanted to touch the bark. They looked like real white birches. She tried hard not to ask how he had done it.

“Lie down,” he said softly.

She crawled forward and heard his breathing speed up at the sight of her.

When she reached the head of the bed, she let her fingers run along the railing of saplings. They were rough and real as far as she could tell.

Amazing.

She lay on her back and looked up at him - still fully clothed, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, grey cords tight to his hips. He studied her calmly, but his eyes were hazy with lust. She wondered frantically when he would take his clothes off.

“Beautiful girl,” he breathed. “Can you lie still for me?”

Her body burned in response. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, and struggled to be still.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Do you want this, Grace?”

“Yes,” she whispered without having to think about it.

“You did magic tonight,” he said.

“But--”

“I’m not going to make love to you. Not until I know it’s what you want.”

Grace tried to tell herself she was crushed only because her body was yearning for him. But it was her heart that was aching. She closed her eyes and turned away from him.

“However, I can’t leave you like this either,” he continued.

Grace opened her eyes but kept her face averted. She was looking into the fire and she mentally begged it to make him change his mind.

Suddenly, there was warm heat on her breast. She turned and saw that he was nuzzling her, mouthing her without latching on. Her nipple stiffened to the point of pain before he snaked his tongue out to caress it.

She tossed her head back and looked into the branches of the trees, unable to watch him without losing control.

As soon as she had acclimated to the teasing sensation on one breast, his hand was on the other. The contrast between his warm, wet mouth and cool, dry hand made her feel almost deranged with desire.

When he raked his teeth against her nipple, she cried out and wantonly arched her back, pressing herself closer to his mouth.

“Hush, angel,” he soothed her, breaking all contact with her breasts and stroking her head.

He seemed to lose himself as soon as he touched her hair. He pressed close to her, and she felt the heat of his erection against her thigh as he buried his face in a pile of her hair.

Tentatively, she reached out with trembling fingers to caress him through his cords. He froze and she could feel the effort it took him not to crush himself against her hand. The same discipline she was showing right now, by not lifting her hips up and begging him to take her.

After only a few seconds, he pulled her hand away.

“I told you ‘no’,” he whispered darkly. “And now you’re going to be punished.”

Grace couldn’t explain the thrill that coursed through her at those words. It was an outrageous thing to say. Unless he was kidding. But she knew he wasn’t.

“Wrap your hands around that tree,” he indicated the sapling that was the center of the living rail.

She grasped the trunk of the tree between her hands.

“No, wrap your wrists around it, cross them,” he said.

She scooted up on the bed and stretched her hands over her head until they met on the other side of the tree. His eyes blazed the brilliant blue color of his magic and something tickled her wrists. The branches of the headboard shifted, knitting themselves together around her hands until she couldn’t withdraw them.

Her heart raced like a dear darting through the forest. She was helpless before him. But it was okay. She trusted Julian.

Didn’t she?

“Good girl. Now be still,” he admonished her.

He tugged her panties over her hips and slipped them down over her ankles. She wanted to look, but she couldn’t lift her head very far with her wrists bound by the branches. She had to settle for a view of her ceiling, and the top of Julian’s head.

He spread her legs wide. Instinctively, she wanted to press them shut again. She managed to stay open for him, hoping he would touch her.

“Mmm,” he sighed, parting her with his hands.

The cool air of the room on her clitoris made her draw in a quick breath. Moisture beaded on her sex as she opened and swelled for Julian, begging wordlessly for his touch.

“Fuck,” he murmured, his finger pressing against her opening briefly, then sliding in.

The sensation was incredible. Grace had never been so worked up before. She wanted to sob her relief and scream her frustration all at the same time. Her insides convulsed on his finger and he cursed again, this time into the muscle of her inner thigh.

In spite of herself and what she had promised, she rocked her hips, trying to find friction.

He clamped his hand down on her, preventing her from moving.

Please don’t stop, please don’t stop she begged in her mind.

His tongue found her clitoris and she writhed under his weight. She burned and tingled simultaneously. Deep inside Grace, another sensation twisted and rolled, gathering strength.

Julian moved his finger inside her, stretching it upward to knead a place she hadn’t known existed.

The brand new sensation exploded inside her, radiating waves of pleasure. Her center clenched down hard on his finger as his tongue teased and suckled her over the edge into the most intense orgasm she had ever experienced.

Quickly, Julian replaced his mouth with his other hand, and leaned back to look at her. She still convulsed on both his hands. A tiny bit of self-consciousness tugged at her, but the expression of naked need in his eyes was enough to send her over the edge again, before she’d even come down from the first wave. By then she didn’t care about anything anymore.

At last, the wave subsided. As if on cue, the branches released their grip, freeing her hands. How silly she must have looked. She laughed and curled her body up self-consciously.

“No,” he said darkly. “Don’t hide from me.”

She smiled and rolled onto her knees, reaching for him, wanting to show him a tenth of the pleasure he had given her.

“I said, no,” he said, but the expression on his face told her he was in pain with desire.

“Let me help you, please, Julian,” she whispered, this time keeping her hands at her sides.

His expression softened.

“I won’t make love to you tonight, Grace, but we can do anything else that you want.”

“Please, let me touch you,” she heard herself say. She had never expected to hear herself beg in bed. Let alone beg to do what she hoped he would let her do.

He smiled and lay back on the bed, stretching his arms back to cradle his head casually.

Grace leaned down to do what she had though about since the day she had met him. Very gently, unbuttoned his white Oxford.

He sighed at her gentle touch, but didn’t move.

She pushed the shirt to the sides to reveal the light muscles of his bare chest. She stopped to nuzzle him, inhaling his clean scent. Then, reaching downward, she unbuckled his belt and unfastened his cords.

The silk boxers underneath his pants did little to hide his bulging erection. Grace allowed her fingers to trace the shape of its head through the thin fabric.

Julian let out a ragged sigh, but didn’t move.

Emboldened, Grace mouthed him through the silk, letting her hot breath tease him further.

Julian’s hands clenched into fists. She teased him just a little more, then slipped her hand inside the boxers.

Julian gasped as she wrapped her fingers around his penis and pulled it out. His face conveyed a blend of exquisite emotion, where pleasure and pain fought for dominance.

She knew which she wanted to give him.

Carefully, she licked and lapped at the head of his penis, coaxing a single salty droplet onto her waiting tongue. She explored his shaft, and held him in her hand while she nuzzled and suckled his balls.

Julian was so still, she wondered if he was even breathing. Eager to make him lose control as he had done to her, she returned her mouth to his cock and drank him in as deeply as she could. When he hit the back of her throat, she dragged her mouth off him again slowly, then repeated.

He swelled to the point that she couldn’t take him all the way in anymore. She wanted this to be as good for him as it had been for her, so she fought her own instinct and took him in and out of her mouth slowly, too slowly to give him what he wanted, but too sweetly for him to want her to stop.

Finally, he groaned in surrender and bunched his hands in her hair. With suppressed thrusts of his hips he showed her what he wanted.

Exultant, she rewarded him immediately with a faster pace, harder suction, deeper thrusts.

In moments, she felt him stiffen impossibly in her mouth and then he tried to pull her off him.

She moaned indignantly and latched herself onto him harder.

He cried out and convulsed into her mouth, jetting his seed against the back of her throat. Each drop was precious and she shuddered with satisfaction when it was done.

Extricating herself from him, a sudden shyness overcame her. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and ran her other hand through her hair. At last she had the courage to look up.

Julian was studying her with sparkling eyes.

“Come here, beautiful girl,” he whispered.

She smiled, her heart was filled. This was what everyone talked about. This was what they meant. She could live a hundred years in this glow and it wouldn’t be enough.

She crawled up to rest on his chest and he stroked her hair.

“Julian?” she said after some consideration.

“What is it, my darling one?”

“Do you still want that cookie?”

CHAPTER 16

A insley was having the dream again.

Her high school boyfriend, Brian Swinton, chased her through the college woods as she laughed in delight.

Ainsley knew she was asleep, but that didn’t mean she could wake up, or change the events of the dream as they unfolded, in the way they had over and over, since she was a teenager.

Something about the dream was different tonight.

Ainsley supposed it was because she knew now that she wasn’t the one who killed Brian. That had been Clive Warren, the former sheriff of Tarker’s Hollow. The man who had tried to kill Ainsley as well.

She also knew that Brian wasn’t angry with her. He’d known all along that she’d had nothing to do with his death. And he had come back from beyond the grave to warn her about Clive, saving her life.

Since that night, she hadn’t had the dream again. She’d thought she never would.

But here they were.

The woods took on a quality of sepia-toned nostalgia as she stopped running and turned to Brian for a kiss.

He spun Ainsley into a tree and kissed her while touching her breasts for the very first time.

As she always did in the dream, and as she had in real life too, Ainsley felt her wolf senses fully awaken for the first time.

When she panicked, Brian pulled away.

It was in this moment of the dream that Brian always asked Ainsley what was wrong and told her that they didn’t have to make out.

Instead, tonight, he smiled warmly down at her, his hazel eyes twinkling with mischief, just as they had that day.

“Hi, Ainsley,” he said.

“Brian, I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I have to show you something.”

Before she could ask any questions, Brian took her by the hand and began to run through the woods again.

Ainsley ran alongside him. It was a little awkward to run as a human, even in a dream. Her long human legs seemed to jolt and heave, unlike the glorious leaping and bounding of haunches and paws.

They finally emerged from the woods at the construction site for the Inn and bookstore. Of course, the construction had only begun recently. When they were kids, this whole place was an athletic field.

In the dream, she blinked her eyes and the construction equipment disappeared, leaving an open meadow. The smell of the flowers mingled with the diesel of the heavy equipment until she wasn’t sure exactly where she was. She couldn’t even tell if she was in the past or the present.

Brian led her across the meadow (construction site?), toward the field house. Unlike the uncertain surroundings, the stone building stood strong, firmly rooted in both worlds.

Untouched by time, for now.

The field house, a repurposed, ancient, stone barn was due to be demolished in Phase 2 of construction. It would be the site for the new bookstore. Many of the college staff and townspeople were upset at the impending loss of the historic space.

But time marched on.

When they reached the entrance, Brian let go of Ainsley’s hand to swing open the old barn door.

A wave of inexplicable wrongness washed over Ainsley. She wanted no parts of this place.

When she hesitated, Brian took her hand again and tugged.

Ainsley allowed herself to be led into the dark doorway. A musty, wet smell greeted her, wholly unlike the scent of freshly cut grass and the oil and gasoline mixture used to fuel the landscaping equipment that was usually stored there.

Two steps inside, the temperature dropped drastically and Ainsley felt goosebumps rise along her skin. Dripping water filled the cavernous space with hollow plopping sounds.

They were in some sort of tunnel or cavern, she was sure of it. But how could that be?

Ainsley turned back to the still open door and saw the bright fall day outside.

She shivered and turned to Brian to ask what had happened. But he was already pulling her hand again, insistently. Trusting him, she followed.

Their footsteps tapped the wet stone floor of the corridor as they traveled faster and faster toward an arched doorway in the distance. An unwholesome yellow light bled out of the doorway and faded into the velvet darkness around it.

As she ran, Ainsley began to lose perspective. Were they running straight ahead or was the corridor slanting downward, or up into space?

At last, they reached the doorway. Brian pulled her into a huge room.

The sickly yellow light emanated from a small hole in the center of the floor. Strange marks radiated out from the hole - symbols Ainsley couldn’t read, carved into the stone of the floor. Something about them reminded Ainsley of the magical snake that had attacked her the night Erik lost his wolf.

A warm, coppery smell filled the air.

Blood.

She turned to Brian to ask what the room was and why he had taken her here.

He wore a tattered yellow raincoat she hadn’t noticed before. As she watched, wounds formed all over his face and body, as if he were being sliced by an invisible blade. Blood coursed down, pooling in the grooves in the floor and streaming toward the hole in the center.

The yellow light inside pulsed, growing stronger, and something below the floor began to stir.

A paralyzing wave of pure malevolence flooded over her. The whole room shuddered as the thing beneath banged against the floor.

The pounding on the stone grew louder, more frantic.

Not stone.

Wood.

Ainsley opened her eyes in the safety of her own bedroom.

Someone was banging on her front door.

Disoriented, she stumbled down the stairs in a haze. She reached the bottom of the steps just in time to see the deadbolt turn.

The door creaked open.

Ainsley crouched, ready to shift.

CHAPTER 17

Erik opened the door to the Copper Creek Community Library and waited an uncomfortable moment for his too-human eyes to adjust to the low light.

Though the simple building had looked like a clapboard ranch style house from the outside, it was lined with bookshelves inside. In the middle of the pumpkin-colored pine floor, sat an old-fashioned card catalogue. The Dewey Decimal System was alive and well in Copper Creek.

A woman’s face popped up from under a fern-covered desk.

“Can I get you something?” she asked in an eager voice.

“Oh, um, I’m just looking for some psychology books.”

“Wow.” The woman stood and brushed off her plaid skirt. “Psychology, okay.”

Erik couldn’t help but notice that she was built like Ainsley. He tried not to notice her delicious curves too much.

“Haven’t seen you in here before.” She smiled and extended her hand.“I’m Bonnie. Bonnie Summers.”

He stepped over to shake hands. Now that he was closer, he saw the experience around her eyes. She was older than he was. And her hand was very warm.

“Erik Jensen.”

“Nice to meet you, Erik.” Her green eyes sparkled, and she tossed her wavy auburn hair over her shoulder. “What brings you to Copper Creek?”

Was it just him, or was she standing up straighter, making it harder for him not to take in her generous bosom?

“I’m here as part of the rescue effort,” he replied. “I’m staying with the Millers,” he added, hoping she would take it as a sign he was a wolf and not ask him directly. He hated to lie, especially to a librarian.

“I see,” she nodded. “Are you a drill specialist?”

“No, I’m a psychologist.”

“Really?” She looked pretty surprised. “And you’re here looking for psychology books?”

“I just want to brush up on Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder,” he hedged.

She quirked up an eyebrow, then took him by the elbow and led him to the back set of bookshelves in the corner of the room.

Was she flirting with him?

What was he supposed to do?

“Here are the psychology books we have, for what they’re worth.” She indicated a single shelf with several self-help titles and a few copies of what looked like text books.

She had not been flirting. Without his wolf senses he had no way to read her. How did humans ever mate?

“Thanks, Bonnie,” he said, and reached for one of the text books.

She inclined her head politely and walked away. Her light step told him he was alone again.

He grabbed the text books and scanned the library again. In the opposite corner, by the front window, there was a long table with two computers on it. If they could still be called computers. The whole set-up reminded him of his middle school Tech Lab class. A pressed wood table held two old-fashioned iMacs that looked like TVs, with the classic translucent aqua-colored shells.

They both sported Out of Order signs that looked like they’d been there awhile.

So no internet access.

He reached into his pocket and checked his phone.

No Service.

Erik hadn’t been able to get a decent signal since he’d arrived in the valley. Probably better. He had work to do.

He pulled out a chair at the table, and sat down with the books. They were heavy and they looked boring. He couldn’t be sure without his wolf, but he suspected they even smelled boring.

But, if there was something in here he could use to secure his cover story, or maybe even help someone, he’d better get started. He took a deep breath and opened the first volume.

After a few minutes he was lost in it. Some of the basics were familiar, he remembered reading about Pavlov, of course. But there was just so much information, and most of it seemed useless.

How was he supposed to cram an entire college degree in before lunch?

Erik grew increasingly concerned about pulling this off. With his wolf, he could have heard heartbeats and smelled shifts in emotion, which might have allowed him to fake it. Without those advantages, he didn’t have a chance.

An unexpected hand grasped the back of Erik’s chair. He managed not to jump ten feet in the air, but his heart sank at another example of how helpless he was as a human.

“I know your secret,” Bonnie whispered in his ear.

Of course she did. You couldn’t pretend to be a wolf. Chastened, he turned to her.

“You’re not really a psychologist,” she said, her green eyes twinkling again.

Oh.

“Guilty,” he said.

“So, why are you here?” she asked.

He looked around before replying, realizing immediately he was being ridiculous. There wasn’t another car in the lot or another soul in sight.

“The Federation sent me to help. But not really as a psychologist.”

“You mean to keep the wolf angle out of the public eye?” she asked.

Erik was taken aback at how quickly Bonnie had put it together. She was smart, really smart. And now that he was at least thirty percent sure she wasn’t flirting with him, he realized he would be lucky to have a smart friend in Copper Creek.

“Yes.” Erik nodded. “Exactly.”

Bonnie looked pointedly at the books on the table in front of him.

“How’s that working out for you?”

“It’s not,” he sighed. “I don’t know what I was thinking. How could anyone just trick people into thinking they know what they’re talking about, when they really don’t have a clue?”

Bonnie put a book down on the table in front of him.

A bald, mustached man in a bad suit looked up at him from the cover. Erik recognized the face from the daytime TV talk shows that seemed to grace every waiting room he’d ever been in.

“If you want to connect with the folks around here,” Bonnie said with her half smile, “you’re better off with this.”

Yes, she was very smart.

“Thanks.” He heard the relief in his own voice. “Can I check it out? Do I need a card?”

“It’s fine,” Bonnie said, already heading back to the desk. “Jake Miller had a card. I’ll just use that. Feels so weird to be talking about him in the past tense.”

“We don’t know for sure.” Erik tried to comfort her at the mention of the missing alpha. “They haven’t found anything.”

“I know,” she said simply. “We all do. We felt it the moment it happened.”

Her eyes stared right through him.

Erik found himself transported to the night of the Connor’s accident. Which of course was anything but. A vice had clamped around his heart that night, threatening to squeeze the life from him. Tarker’s Hollow was devastated.

Erik latched on to that feeling, painful as it was. It would be very important to keep that flood of emotion in mind when interacting with the wolves of Copper Creek. They would all be feeling lost.

He knew how bad it was. He also knew it wouldn’t last forever. Maybe he could be some help after all.

Had Ophelia known that when she sent him here? Maybe she did have a heart inside that glass exterior.

“Well,” Bonnie said with a smile. “Jake Miller certainly never checked out anything like this.”

“More of a Stephen King fan?” Erik asked.

“Actually,” Bonnie said, one eyebrow lifted. “he was fond of romance novels.”

“Really?”

Erik tried to picture his own fallen alpha, Michael Connor, in his tweed blazer, holding a book with a shirtless hunk on the cover.

“Oh yeah,” Bonnie nodded. “He always tried to pretend like they were for LeeAnn but he wasn’t fooling anyone. He’d be in here once a week, like clockwork. Until about two weeks ago.”

“What happened two weeks ago? I thought the mine collapse was two days ago?”

Bonnie bit her lip. She set down Erik’s books and leaned forward, conspiratorially.

“He came in and asked for something very different,” she said. “He wanted books on Native American myths and symbology, and on eastern European folklore. Not his cup of tea. At all.”

“Why did he want books like that?” Erik asked.

He found himself leaning forward just as Bonnie was. It popped into his head that the text book had mentioned body mirroring behaviors but he already forgot why. Some psychologist he was.

“No idea,” she said, her clear green eyes wide. “I wouldn’t have thought much about it, but he seemed... nervous when he was checking them out. Jake was always confident, as an alpha should be. I’d never seen him nervous about anything.”

“Which books were they?” Erik curiosity was getting the better of him. “Could I see them?”

“He never got a chance to return them,” Bonnie said solemnly.

“If I see them around the house, I’ll bring them back,” Erik said, straightening up.

“Thank you, Erik, I appreciate it,” Bonnie said, standing tall again too. “Or should I be calling you Dr. Jensen?”

“Erik is fine,” he told her with a smile.

“Erik it is.” Bonnie smiled back. “Come back anytime.”

It was a nice smile, a warm smile, and it made him miss Ainsley.

“See ya,” he said as he turned to go.

He opened the door and the sunlight temporarily blinded him. When he could see again, he was struck by the beauty of the changing leaves on the mountains across the street from the tiny library.

But questions burned his mind, so instead of losing himself in the view, he stuffed the book in his jacket and hurried back to his truck.

CHAPTER 18

A insley crouched, the muscles in her legs tensed to spring.

The door swung open to reveal the familiar silhouette of her best friend, Grace Kwan-Cortez framed in the day’s first light.

Sucking in calming air, Ainsley eased her body upward and managed not to shift. Unspent adrenaline coursed through her veins.

“What’s wrong?” Ainsley asked.

Grace shuffled in with a nervous look. She held Camilla Parker Bowles in one arm. It was a funny picture - Grace wasn’t exactly a dog person, but she cradled Camilla as though they had been besties for years.

“I’m sorry I startled you,” Grace said. “I’ve been calling and texting you. I was afraid something had happened. You never sleep this late.”

“It’s fine,” Ainsley said, thinking of the dream and feeling like nothing was fine. “What’s going on?”

“Owen called, so we had to get Sadie back right away. It was a very close call.”

“Oh my gosh, Grace, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help you! How did it go?”

“Oh, no worries, it went really smoothly,” Grace said.

Ainsley could see by the traumatized expression on Grace’s face that her friend was trying to hide that it had not gone smoothly.

“I can’t believe you got her back in all by yourself,” Ainsley said in wonder, as they headed for the kitchen.

Grace put Camilla Parker Bowles down and she trotted after them.

“Julian helped me,” Grace said.

What?

Ainsley noticed the familiar smell clinging to her best friend. She would have picked it up right away, despite the shower and scented lotions Grace had used in the interim, but she had been shaken by the vestiges of the dream.

Julian.

Ainsley was scandalized, thrilled, and even a little jealous. Grace would say something if she wanted to talk about it. Ainsley didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. But her curiosity won out over her discretion.

“Julian,” she breathed, as Grace sat down at the table.

Grace blanched. She must have guessed Ainsley would sniff out the truth right away.

“Is it weird?” she asked, looking down at Camilla Parker Bowles.

The little dog flopped down at her feet and went right to sleep.

“A little, I guess,” Ainsley admitted. “But mostly it’s just unexpected. I thought you guys hated each other.”

A smile played at the corners of Grace’s mouth. “We do,” she said, “but I guess not enough to make up for how much we like each other.”

“What happened?” Ainsley asked.

“I’m not really sure,” Grace replied.

“Was it good? Are you going to do it again?”

“It was good,” Grace said, but she had a sort of shell-shocked look on her face.

Ainsley swallowed a giggle. Maybe Julian had done that dominating business with Grace. It was sort of fun, but it was never really Ainsley’s thing. From the look on Grace’s face, it was hard to tell if it was her thing or not.

“Ainsley,” Grace said. “I promise I’ll tell you all about it, but I have a feeling there’s something else we need to talk about first. You almost attacked me just now. What’s going on?”

The dream.

Ainsley busied herself putting on the kettle. It would be easier to talk about this if she didn’t have to see the concern on Grace’s face while she was telling her.

“I had the dream again,” Ainsley said, pulling their favorite mugs out of the cupboard and placing them on the counter.

“No,” Grace said.

“Yes. I never thought I’d see him again.” Ainsley grabbed the peppermint tea and placed a bag in each mug. “The dream was different this time though. Instead of making out until the bad stuff happened, he dragged me to the old field house.”

“On the construction site?” Grace asked.

“It was. And it wasn’t” She ignored the puzzled look on Grace’s face. “But when we went in, we weren’t in the field house. We went down this tunnel and then we were in a room. And when I turned to him, he was wearing a yellow raincoat, and he was covered in blood--”

“--A yellow raincoat?” Grace interrupted.

“Weird, right? It looked like something a woman would wear.”

“Could it be the coat that went with the belt I showed you?” Grace asked. “The one Lilliana was wearing when she disappeared?”

“Yes,” Ainsley said thoughtfully. “Same shade. Maybe that’s why it was in my mind. Do you think it means something?”

Grace shrugged and urged her to continue.

“Anyway, Brian was wearing the coat and his blood was flowing into this grooved pattern in the floor and going down a hole and... feeding something below. It was evil and it was banging on the floor. Then you started banging on the door, and here we are. What does it mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Grace replied with a troubled expression. “Abuela has always been better at finding the meanings in this kind of stuff. When there is meaning - she says there usually isn’t. It could just be a bad dream, Ainsley. You’ve been under a lot of stress. And it was the full moon.”

Ainsley let the air out of her lungs between pursed lips. Grace was right. She was under strain. Things weren’t exactly going well.

“I’m having such a hard time, with... everything.” Ainsley admitted. “So much is going wrong, I don’t even know what to work on first.”

“Start with the magic, Ainsley, it will make everything else easier when you accept that part of yourself.”

“Magic is not going well,” Ainsley said. “As a matter of fact, it’s going terribly. I can’t control it at all.”

“You did fine in the fight. You need to stop over-thinking it. Just do it,” Grace said. She waved her hand nonchalantly. “Do it now.”

“Now?” Ainsley asked.

“Why not?”

Ainsley couldn’t think of a good reason why not, so she shrugged and lifted her hands, palms up. Closing her eyes and straightening her spine, she took a measured breath and pushed.

She could feel a droplet of energy hopping between her palms. She opened her eyes and the light spluttered out before she could get a good look at it.

Camilla Parker Bowles growled softly, then flopped over and went back to sleep.

“Ainsley, I feel like you’re tensing up so much it’s a miracle you can squeeze anything out,” Grace said gently. “Let’s try something different.”

“Okay,” Ainsley said. What did she have to lose?

“Let’s go out back, it’ll be easier out there.”

Ainsley nodded and they headed out the back door. The backyards up and down Princeton were quiet. It was getting colder outside, so the kids weren’t out as much. Not to mention that the leaf collection trucks weren’t coming for another week, so the yards were slippery with fallen leaves.

Camilla Parker Bowles trotted out and immediately began sniffing at the gate to the side yard.

Grace followed Ainsley down the steps of the back porch and out to her mom’s old vegetable garden. The veggies were long gone but there was still an old watering can tucked in the corner of the picket fence.

“So how do you usually get the magic to work?” Grace asked.

“I’m not sure work is exactly the right word,” Ainsley said, eliciting a scowl from her friend. “But Julian says to visualize the energy, then will it to project.”

Grace’s brow furrowed in disapproval.

“When you made us tea just now,” she said. “Did you will the water into the cups?”

“Um, no.”

“What did you do?”

“I poured it.”

“Exactly. And did you have to think about it?”

“Of course not,” Ainsley said.

“That’s the problem,” Grace said. “It needs to come naturally to you. Try it now. Pretend you’re just throwing a softball, like in high school. Okay?”

“You don’t really think I can throw this stuff, do you?” Ainsley laughed out loud. “I can barely evoke it at all.”

“You can do anything you want, Ainsley. It’s your magic and you have plenty of it whenever the you-know-what hits the fan. Now just pitch it over to the watering can.”

Ainsley took a deep breath and let it out slowly. It turned to steam in the cold air.

“No!” Grace admonished her. “No weird breathing, no stiff posture. Just throw it, like you’ve done all your life. Send that watering can back to the dugout!”

Ainsley laughed. The tension drained from her frame. Without a thought, she threw.

A perfect sphere of energy flew at the can, blue light trailing behind it like the tail of a comet.

The watering can fell over neatly with a small metallic crash as it hit the gate.

Ainsley saw the change in her friend’s expression a few seconds after she smelled the new presence approaching from the side yard.

She had to hand it to him, he was getting quieter.

Ainsley turned to see Julian standing at the gate, holding Camilla Parker Bowles in his arms. The little dog was trying to wrest herself out of his grasp. But he appeared not even to notice, he was so transfixed by the sight of Grace.

“Hey, Julian,” Ainsley called.

“Well done, Ainsley,” he said. “Have you been meditating?”

“Nope, just mixed in a little cottage magic,” she said. What did you think?”

“I think you have a fantastic teacher,” he said with a smile.

Grace looked down modestly, but her lips lifted slightly at the corners. Ainsley wondered if Julian would notice the dash of I-told-you-so.

CHAPTER 19

Grace’s heartbeat sped up and warmth flooded her cheeks.

She wasn’t ashamed. Julian had seen what Ainsley could do under her instruction. And when she had performed better under Grace’s tutelage than his own, he hadn’t been angry. He was a mature man, the real deal.

And he was hers.

By the time Grace shook her giddiness, Ainsley had already opened the gate. Julian put down the dog and headed over.

“I’ll grab the dog some water,” Ainsley said, heading up the steps to the house. “Be right back.”

Julian stood close to Grace. Too close.

“Hi,” she muttered shyly.

“Hi, yourself,” he said with an arched eyebrow. “Does Ainsley know?” he whispered.

She nodded.

“Is she okay with it?” he asked.

“Why wouldn’t she be?” she asked coyly.

“Isn’t there some sort of code?” he asked.

“Sisters before misters?” she teased.

“Something like that,” he said.

“She doesn’t care. She has Erik.”

A strange look crossed Julian’s face. Not jealousy, but something dark.

“What?” Grace asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” he said, kissing her lightly on top of her head.

A shiver went through Grace. His slightest touch was capable of igniting her fiercest desire. She looked up to see him shake his head slightly.

When he caught her looking, he smiled ruefully at her. He must be feeling it too.

Before they could acknowledge their feelings, the back door closed and Ainsley came out. She bent over to put a metal mixing bowl down on the porch floor.

“Camilla Parker Bowles,” Ainsley called.

The little dog trotted over and sniffed at the bowl.

“Where was she?” Grace asked, looking at the dog.

“She was digging under the rhododendrons by the front porch. She probably got distracted by a chipmunk on her way home. She must feel odd being so close to her home, but not allowed in.”

“Ainsley, can you watch her today?” Grace asked. “I’ve got a double shift on call and I hate to leave her in a cage for so long.”

“Sure, Grace,” Ainsley smiled, then turned to Julian. “What brought you here, Julian?”

Grace’s best friend had become so direct since taking leadership of the pack.

“It’s not easy, but there’s something I need to come clean about. To both of you.”

“I knew it,” Ainsley said. “You’re gay.”

“It’s not that. Wait, what?” Julian stammered. “Why does everyone always-“

“I’m kidding,” Ainsley interrupted. “What’s on your mind?”

“It might be better if we sat down,” he suggested, motioning to the picnic table on the back porch.

Grace took a spot next to Ainsley, a hollow feeling settling into the pit of her stomach. Julian sat on the bench across from them. His jaw tensed. This wasn’t going to be good.

“Ainsley, Grace, I’m a member of an Order,” he began. “As such, I have been sworn to secrecy regarding certain matters. What I’m about to reveal to you would mean my life if my brothers knew. May I rely on each of you to keep my secret, no matter how you feel about me at the end of this conversation?”

The hush of the frigid breeze shivered through the trees. Grace shuddered in sympathy and shoved her hands into her coat pockets.

“Grace,” he turned to her. “You are a member of an Order yourself. And you are sworn to protect and to serve.”

“You mean the Tarker’s Hollow Police Department?” she asked.

“The Tarker’s Hollow Police Department is different from other police departments,” Julian said softly. “And my Order is unusual as well.”

“Are you with the FBI?” Grace asked.

“I’m with a magical order, Grace. An order that is sworn to protect the very evolution of mankind. I’m in Tarker’s Hollow for a reason. And that reason is not to teach Russian Lit.” He turned to Ainsley, “Though I do love the Russian masters, that part is real.”

“Why are you in Tarker’s Hollow?” Ainsley asked. Her voice sounded brittle to Grace.

Julian studied the grain in the wooden table. Then he looked up. His eyes were so intense Grace could hardly bear it.

“I want you to know that I respect and care for you both. Now that I know you and the pack, I intend to do all I can to help you.”

“Why. Are. You. Here.” Ainsley repeated. And Grace could see that her friend wouldn’t ask again, at least not with words.

“I belong to the Order of the Sanguis,” he replied.

Grace hadn’t taken Latin since high school, but she was pretty sure he was talking about blood.

“What does that mean?” She asked, hoping to stave off Ainsley’s fury.

“It means... I am trained to fight creatures of the darkness, that feed on the essence of the innocent.”

It was like a bad horror movie. For a minute, Grace wanted to giggle.

“Julian,” she said, trying to sound serious. “Are you talking about vampires?”

“For lack of a better word, yes,” he said. “Although probably not how you imagine them. It seems incredible, I know--”

“--yes, yes, it does,” Ainsley interrupted. “But in the context of the people sitting at this table, it isn’t. So what’s your deal? Why are you here?”

Julian paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. He must have sensed the same anger that Grace sensed, too close the surface in Ainsley.

“The Order was formed a long time ago, with the sole purpose of protecting mankind from the Dark Ones. But recently we’ve had to increase our numbers. Our mission has become more urgent.”

“How recently?” Ainsley asked.

“I’m one of a wave of new recruits. I was brought onboard in 1892, hastily trained, and sent into the field undercover.”

“Did you say you were brought onboard in 1892?” Grace heard herself ask.

“Yes,” he told her, and he gave her a sad little smile, which she couldn’t return.

“What happened in 1892?” Ainsley asked.

“Another Order was formed,” Julian wore a disgusted expression. “An Order that sought to bring back the Darkness we had all but banished. It is because of that Order’s presence in Tarker’s Hollow, and because of the gateway here, that I was sent to investigate.”

“What do you mean the gateway?” Ainsley asked.

“The Dark Elders were too powerful to kill outright, so they were entombed in inescapable prisons, each sealed by a powerful, magical gateway.” He looked at them both. “It’s a little more complicated than that, involving extra-dimensional space and some pretty high level quantum magic theory. But you get the picture, yes?”

Ainsley met his gaze.

“Are you trying to tell me that Charley Coslaw is a member of an ancient Order that busts vampires out of tombs?” she asked.

“In a nutshell, yes,” Julian said.

She stared him down and he gazed back at her, unblinking.

“And you chose to hide that information from me, knowing that my pack was in danger, that I was in danger?”

“I didn’t know it was him, Ainsley. Like your mother, Charley has powerful magic for shielding. He managed to muddy the water enough that I didn’t know who it was until he attacked you.”

“Garrett as well?” Ainsley asked.

Julian nodded.

“What else do I need to know?” Ainsley asked.

“Somewhere in this town is a gateway. Your parents and I were working together to discern the location before the accident, and-”

“Murder,” Ainsley interrupted. “There was no accident. My parents were murdered. Most likely due to their involvement with you.”

Grace put a hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“Ainsley,” Julian said tentatively. “I’m so s-“

“No,” Ainsley cut him off again. “You don’t need to apologize. My parents risked their lives to protect the pack with you, just as I’m about to do. But we need to be clear on one thing first.”

Grace had never heard her sound so determined.

“You can keep playing your man of mystery routine, but when it comes to information regarding my pack, or the people that I love...”

Ainsley placed a hand atop Grace’s. Waves of power coursed near the surface.

“You will never keep secrets from me again.”

Grace had never been more thankful to have Ainsley on her side.

Julian swallowed and nodded in agreement.

“So what else to we need to know?” Grace asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Julian regained his composure quickly.

“Charley must have been worried the gateway was going to be disturbed,” he said. “Or he wouldn’t be moving so boldly. And Garrett certainly wouldn’t be here.”

“So we need to find this gateway,” Grace said, glad to be forming a plan of some sort. “Any idea where to start?”

She turned to Ainsley, who stared past them into the middle distance.

“Are you quite alright, Ainsley?” Julian asked. You look like you’ve seen a-”

“The field house,” Grace and Ainsley said in unison.

CHAPTER 20

Erik returned to the little house by the creek just as the sun began to dip behind the mountain, painting the sky a brilliant pink.

A quick stop at Rite Aid scored him the stuff he hadn’t been able to grab from home in his rush to escape Ophelia. He carried the plastic bags up the porch stairs and stepped over the toys to open the front door.

Zeke was playing video games in the living room. Erik could see LeeAnn’s hands caressing a glass of ice tea at the kitchen table, but the rest of her was hidden behind the arched wall.

“Hey, kid,” Erik said. “Hi, LeeAnn!”

He had almost reached the stairs when he heard her plunk the glass down. It was a hollow, awful sound.

He took a deep breath, turned around and headed back to the kitchen.

The small room was perfectly clean, but a sense of untidiness still hung in the air. LeeAnn sat at the round formica topped table, sipping at a mostly empty tea with a faraway look in her eyes.

Erik didn’t need his wolf senses to know the glass held more than iced tea.

He set his bags on the counter, pulled out a chair and sat down.

For a moment he was quiet, honoring her pain. He studied the cheerful floating coffee cups on the half curtains that framed the window. They seemed garish and silly compared to the poignant view of blue mountaintops beyond.

“What’s on your mind, LeeAnn?” he asked, in his best imitation of Michael Connor’s calming voice. Ainsley’s father had talked him through a rough patch or two.

She put the glass down on the table and traced the rim with a fingertip.

“Jake’s gone,” she said at length. “I don’t know what to do.”

Her voice was expressionless, yet it conveyed a depth of emotion that made it hard for Erik to breathe.

He glanced up at the bags, hoping the Dr. Phil book he’d tucked into one of them wasn’t visible as he scrambled to recall a quote that might be of some use.

“Life can seem like a long ride, LeeAnn, but remember that you are the driver. Every single day.”

He let the words hang in the air. In truth, he didn’t actually have a follow-up.

Just as he had resigned himself to the fact that, of course, the corny platitude had failed, LeeAnn’s nostrils flared slightly. She swiveled her head up from the tea to look at him.

“You’re right.” She nodded, more to herself than to him. “I need to stop sitting around and feeling sorry for myself. I need to get out there and get this town back on its feet. For Jake. For all of us.”

“Life rewards action,” Erik said, pulling from the book again.

LeeAnn was already on her feet, her drink forgotten. She made it as far as the archway, and then turned back.

“I’m glad you came to our town when you did, Dr. Jensen. We are going to need someone like you to get us through this.”

Erik felt a wave of benevolence sweep over him. Though he knew he was not a psychologist - he had just helped someone in need.

If he could just get them through until the pack had a proper alpha again, everything would be fine.

The thought sparked an important question.

“LeeAnn,” he asked carefully. “Have you talked to Mary about what happens next?”

She frowned.

“Jake and me never thought he’d be gone so soon.”

“She has no idea?” Erik asked.

“None,” LeeAnn said flatly.

Her eyes went to the iced tea on the table. Erik winced inwardly. She had been so close. Why did he have to bring up more difficulties?

LeeAnn picked up the glass and considered it for a moment, then she strode over poured it in the sink.

Good girl.

“Can you explain it to her?” she asked. “This is the kind of thing you’re trained for, right?”

“Uh, sure, I’ll talk to her,” Erik replied, wishing he’d quit while he was ahead.

“Great,” she said. “Mary’s in her room, reading.”

Now?

“I’m going to pick up the girls from karate class, then I’m going over to Patty’s. She’ll help me get the other wives on their feet and into action.” LeeAnn smiled at him, proudly. “Thank you, Dr. Jensen.”

With that, she marched to the door, stopping at the coat tree to grab a blue pullover.

“Half an hour more of video games, Zeke,” She said. “Then it’s homework time. Tell Mary to stick a pizza in the microwave, you hear?”

Zeke nodded, his little face awash in the bluish glow of the television.

“Good boy,” she called back to him as she closed the front door behind herself.

Erik looked over at the boy, but he was engrossed in his game. That left Erik with no choice but to face the inevitable.

He headed up the stairs, unable to shake the feeling that he was about to face a firing squad. When he reached the top, he remembered to knock.

“Yeah?” Mary said, in a surly soprano.

“It’s Erik, can I come in?”

“Sure,” she replied in a suddenly softer more agreeable voice. Oh geez. The crush. Girls this age were impossible.

Erik opened the door. The small room barely had space for a bed and a dresser, forcing him to stand with his knees against the mattress as he looked down at the girl.

Mary sat Indian style, a quilt spread over her legs to combat the chill. Her blonde hair hung loose around he face. Like before, he’d caught her with her nose in a book, only this time, she’d put it down in her lap so he could read the title.

How I Live Now.

“I heard that was good,” Erik said, hoping to break the ice a little before moving to the heavy stuff.

She nodded.

Her finger still held her place, but she didn’t seem to want to break eye contact with him long enough to locate the bookmark by her knee.

“How are you getting along, Mary?” he asked.

So much for easing into it.

She sighed, looked down, and found the bookmark. She placed it in the book, then closed it and began to caress its spine in a way that reminded Erik of how her mother had stroked the glass that held more than just tea.

He didn’t blame either of them for looking for an escape, however brief.

“It’s probably a sin,” she said finally. “But I don’t feel much different.”

“I understand,” he said. “When you’re fifteen, you can feel pretty invisible.”

The look on her face told him that wasn’t the response she’d been expecting.

Before he had time to chicken out, he gestured to the edge of the bed.

“Okay, if I sit for a minute?” he asked.

She nodded at him, her eyes, actually quite lovely now that they had regained some life, never leaving his.

He eased himself down on the very edge of the bed, trying hard not to make it seem weird.

“Mary,” he said, drawing on his memory of Michael Connor again to find the right tone. “How much do you know about how the pack works?”.

“What do you mean?” she asked, narrowing her lovely eyes behind the glasses.

“Well, your dad is the most important wolf around. Do you know why?”

“Because he’s the alpha,” she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Right. But do you know what that means?” he asked.

“Everybody has to listen to him,” she said, not without a tinge of resentment.

“It’s more than that,” he explained. “Wolves are social creatures. We rely on our pack for our identity and our strength.”

The truth of his own words hit him, forcing him to pause. Erik missed the solidarity and comfort of his pack terribly. He took a deep breath and resumed.

“Mary,” he said. “Your dad is the one who holds the pack together, and protects it from anything, inside or out, that threatens the pack’s way of life.”

He looked up at her to make sure she was getting it.

“I never really thought about it like that,” she said.

“But no wolf can be alpha forever,” he said quietly.

Mary’s shoulders slumped slightly.

She knew. Of course she did.

“Do you know how the next alpha will be chosen?” he asked her.

She blushed furiously. God, she was so young.

“You’re next in line, Mary. When the time comes, you’ll have to find a mate.”

“You mean like...” her voice trailed off.

He nodded, glad he didn’t have to go into any more detail. She understood.

She looked down at her hands.

“I never... I never did anything like that...” She paused to consider, her face going even redder. “I mean, one time, me and Jimmy Brewer went to second base on the sofa in his garage. But I don’t think that counts. Does it?”

“No,” Erik tried and failed to hide his smile. “But I’m sure there are plenty of nice young men in this town who would make suitable candidates.”

“You are really not from around here,” she said with a dismissive shake of her head. “There’s nothing here but boys who think showing a girl a good time means letting her watch you play Xbox with your friends, then drinking until you puke in the woods behind the Shop ’n Save.”

“I’m sure they’re not all that bad,” Erik said, trying not to think about himself at her age.

“I’d rather find someone with ambition,” she said. “Someone who’s been outside Copper Creek for more than just a school field trip. Someone who’s done something meaningful, like become a lawyer... or a doctor.”

Uh-oh.

“Well, it’s good to see a girl who knows what she wants.” He did his best to deflect the implication. “Maybe you’ll end up as the alpha.”

She laughed.

“I’m not kidding,” he said. “You know the alpha of my pack in Tarker’s Hollow is female?”

“No fooling?” she eyed him dubiously.

“Honest,” he replied.

Mary’s eyes widened behind her glasses.

“What’s she like?”

“She is the single most amazing creature I have ever encountered,” Erik said. “You should really meet her sometime. She’d like you. Have you ever read any Tolstoy?”

Mary shook her head with a puzzled look.

“Never mind,” he said, glad to make it through that minefield of conversation in one piece. “Hey, speaking of books, is there someplace where your dad might have kept some?”

“You mean the romance books he keeps in the attic?”

Wow.

“I was, um, thinking of something a little more businesslike,” he replied.

“He has an old desk in his and mom’s bedroom. Where he does the bills. You might find something in there,” she said uncertainly.

“Thanks, Mary,” Erik said, getting up from the bed. He couldn’t help but notice how she leaned slightly toward him, as if she didn’t want him to go.

“The filters you’ve always used to view the world will be changing,” he told her, lifting more advice from the book in his bag. “You can acknowledge your history without being controlled by it, Mary.”

She gave him a look that told him she had no idea what he was talking about. Fair enough. He had no idea either. One out of two wasn’t bad though.

He headed downstairs again before she could ask.

It seemed odd to go into LeeAnn’s bedroom without her permission. But Mary was ensconced in her book and he could hear Zeke’s video game going. This might be his only chance.

He eased the door open and stepped across the creaky pine floor to a worn, moss green area rug. The furniture looked like it must have been passed down from LeeAnn or Jake’s mother. An antique roll-top desk nesteld in one corner.

Erik found the wooden top unlocked and oiled. It rolled up smoothly to reveal a neatly organized desk. There was a tray with bills in it, a check book, a mug with pens and paperclips in it. He opened the drawers to reams of paper, a three-hole punch, a well-used Bible, and a new video game still in its wrapper. Zeke’s Christmas present?

No books of any kind, besides the bible.

Where would Jake have kept them?

And why did he have the growing sense that they were important?

CHAPTER 21

J ulian remained remarkably calm, considering the circumstances.

From the moment Ainsley had recounted her dream, he’d shared their certainty that the gateway was in the old field house.

He had never been this close before.

Ever a woman of action, Ainsley was determined to investigate immediately. She’d leapt over the porch railing and headed around the side yard and up Princeton leaving Julian and Grace scrambling in her wake.

He was fairly certain that there were about a hundred things they ought to have done to prepare first. But when he’d broached the idea of stopping to make a plan, Ainsley had given him that terrifying look. And when Ainsley wore that alpha expression, he knew better than to argue.

He was powerful in his own right. Very powerful, in fact. He had been practicing magic longer than the lifespans of both his companions combined. But he didn’t envy anyone who brought out Ainsley’s bad side.

The trio rounded the corner onto Elm. The row of cherry trees that spanned Elm from Princeton to Yale appeared to be burning, their leaves gone to golden on the underside and red on top. Tarker’s Hollow could be so picturesque on the surface - ironic under the ugliness of the circumstances.

Julian turned to Grace to see how she was holding up. She didn’t look back at him.

He told himself it was because she was nervous about the task at hand.

“Ainsley!” An ancient woman rode toward them on a large bicycle.

“Hi, Mrs. Hooper,” Ainsley said politely, still walking.

“Are you ready for Halloween?” Mrs. Hooper shouted happily as she glided past them.

Ainsley waved in lieu of an answer and kept walking.

They crossed Yale, Ainsley diverting them around the construction area and into the woods. Smart. It was broad daylight - anyone out on Yale would have seen them enter the construction area and might have wondered what they were up to.

None of them spoke until they had made a half-circle through the woods, putting the field house squarely between them and the view from the street. Ainsley had developed quite the head for tactics.

As they approached the back of the old stone structure, Ainsley spoke at last.

“Ready?” she asked perfunctorily.

Grace nodded. Julian followed suit, though he would have liked to stop and strategize.

An old rusty padlock secured the barn doors. Fortunately, Julian had prepared an unlocking spell. Before he had a chance to step forward, Ainsley tugged at the metal, popping it off as easily as a child pulling the wings off a fly.

So much for his spell. Maybe there would be a more imposing lock inside somewhere.

Ainsley slid the barn doors open. The scent of gasoline and grass trimmings filled Julian’s nose, as they stepped into the gloom.

As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he could make out the riding lawnmowers that filled the space. Various tools hung on a pegboard along the back wall, each nestled inside a traced outline of itself.

No stone corridor, and no floor with a patterned groove like in Ainsley’s dream.

But there was something. A tingle in the air, a pulse. Julian couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was magic at work in this place somewhere.

He glanced at Grace to see if she felt it, too. She didn’t return his gaze, but the tension in her shoulders and the grim set of her jaw gave him his answer.

Even in this place, with danger around the corner, he couldn’t help but revel in the fiercely controlled stance of her small body. Oh, but he had seen her soft and begging.

“What now?” asked Grace in a whisper.

“I’m afraid I’m at a loss,” he replied in kind. “I’ve done magical searches for the location before, but it is too heavily shielded. Spells won’t help us.”

“Maybe we need a simpler method.” Ainsley dropped to all fours and sniffed at the ground.

She stood and walked very slowly toward the front wall of the field house, Grace trailing close behind.

After a few steps, she stopped and cocked her head to the side, listening as she stomped her foot three times.

Julian heard nothing, but Ainsley must have been satisfied. She dropped to the ground again and began feeling around with her hands.

Grace moved closer and Julian followed, feeling suddenly protective.

“You’re sure?” he asked.

“It’s right here,” she replied, thumping the floor with a fist. “Hear that?”

He didn’t. But he did trust Ainsley’s ears more than his own. Julian knelt and touched the spot with one hand. With the other, he reached into his jacket pocket and fished out a piece of chalk.

In the age of videoconferencing and touch screens, he remained very much a chalk and slate kind of teacher. He crushed the chalk to dust in his hand and then muttered a few words of finding. He tossed the dust into the air as he finished.

It hung there for a second, before floating peacefully to the ground.

“Wow,” Ainsley said, staring at the tiny white dusting. “Let’s hope the bad guys are made of chalk. They won’t know what hit them. Julian, what...”

She trailed off as the chalk dust began to dance.

It moved slowly at first, as though the ground vibrated beneath it, picking up speed and spreading along the floor. In the span of two breaths, most of the dust had gathered in neat, straight lines, revealing the edges of a simple floor hatch. The remaining particles highlighted a small pull ring on one side.

“Neat,” Ainsley said, reaching for the ring with both hands, no doubt intending to tear the thing from its hinges if need be.

“No!” Grace and Julian said as one. He met her gaze briefly, but she only looked away.

“There’s a ward on it,” Julian whispered.

He tried a spell of removal.

Nothing.

It wasn’t until he had given a spell in the direction of each corner that he felt its energy dissipate.

“This was done well by someone powerful,” he said. “Probably the same person who set the trap that... that was meant for you, Ainsley.”

She nodded once and reached for the ring again.

The door’s ancient hinges protested loudly, but it opened. The dark obscured any view of what waited below.

“Lux ex tenebris,” Ainsley said with quiet confidence.

To Julian’s amazement, motes of light encircled her hand like a thousand tiny fireflies, then took off down the hatch, illuminating the rungs of a ladder.

She had taken the light spell he’d taught her and given it her own touch. A spark of her mother’s nature magic. Impressive.

“Someone’s been paying attention to her lessons,” he said.

“You can give me a gold star if we live,” she replied, already lowering herself into the opening.

Grace scanned the field house one last time, then did the same.

Julian followed as close behind them as he could, without risking stepping on Grace’s head. The idea of her in the darkness below the field house distressed him, even though he knew she was very capable of taking care of herself.

A small gasp from Ainsley at the bottom did little to ease his mind.

As soon as Grace was clear, he dropped the rest of the way down to the stone floor below and turned to survey the scene.

The faintly lit corridor that led away from them matched Ainsley’s description to a tee. No wonder she had been unsettled.

Grace put a finger to her lips. Ainsley nodded, then indicated that they should follow her down the corridor.

They walked in silence for some time, the air damp and the stones moist beneath their feet, Ainsley’s fireflies lighting the way. Julian wondered what part of Tarker’s Hollow they were under now, but his sense of direction was useless in the meandering tunnel.

At last, they came to a large, open archway.

“Be careful,” Ainsley hissed, and slipped into the room beyond, Grace and Julian in tow.

The room was as Ainsley had described it - domed ceiling and an intricate pattern of grooves spiraling to the center of the floor.

“What is this?” Grace whispered, nodding to the rusty discoloration of a the indentations near her feet. Julian could tell by the devastated look on her face that she knew it was blood.

The rusty stain trailed away from the grooves and Ainsley followed it with her light.

In the corner, an exsanguinated corpse in a yellow raincoat leaned against the wall, head tilted at an unnatural angle. The brash colors of her dyed hair and the coat contrasted with her ashen skin, as though she were a partially colorized picture.

“Lilliana,” Grace whispered. “She came to me for help.”

Julian knelt to examine the body. At his touch, the papery gray skin turned to powder.

“She’s a dried out husk,” he whispered. “It’s not like she bled out. It’s like the fluids were sucked out of her. This was magic.”

“At least it was over fast,” Ainsley said.

“Actually,” Julian said. “For maximum effect, she would have been kept alive until the very last drop was gone.”

Grace went pale and sucked in a breath.

Ainsley elbowed Julian, hard enough to leave a bruise.

“Sorry,” he said. “At any rate, this is bad.”

“No shit,” Ainsley replied, gesturing to the desiccated corpse.

“No,” he explained. “It means that the creature inside will be stronger now. It’s been fed,”

They all looked back at the grooves in the floor.

Ainsley sniffed the air.

“Charley and Garrett have been here,” she informed them. “Recently.”

“It looks like they tried to open the tomb,” Julian said. “But failed without the key.”

“So they still don’t have it,” Ainsley said.

“It would appear not,” Julian said. “Why did they think you had it in the first place, Ainsley?”

“Beats me,” Ainsley shrugged.

Grace shook her head and her features returned to their usual expression of calm concentration.

“What do we know about them?” she asked in her policewoman voice, sending a shiver down Julian’s spine.

“Charley has been fooling us our whole lives,” Ainsley said. “He’s good. He won’t be sloppy.”

“What about Garrett?” Julian asked.

“He’s new in town,” said Grace. “I heard him say he was sent to speed things up when Charley wasn’t getting results. He’s had contact with two people. One of them is dead. He got what he wanted from her.”

She looked back at Lilliana’s body, hunched in the corner.

“They other is in a coma,” Grace continued, really hitting her stride. “He said the incident with Sadie was ‘unfortunate’.”

“So he didn’t mean to do it. He lost his temper,” Julian said.

“That could help us later,” Ainsley noted, already scouting his weaknesses for when she faced him again.

How different she was from the prim girl he’d met in the coffee shop barely two months ago. That Ainsley couldn’t bear to sit at a table until all the crumbs had been cleared. This one was actively plotting to kill a man that had wronged her.

“So, Sadie had something he wanted,” Grace said. “Could she have had the key?”

“And he got angry when she wouldn’t give it to him,” Julian added.

“Where would Sadie keep a key?” Ainsley asked. “All she cares about is her garden and...”

“Her dog!” Ainsley and Grace said together.

“Yes,” Grace continued, picking up the thread expertly. She was a joy to see in action. “Camilla Parker Bowles must be part of it. Could the key be hidden on her? Maybe on her collar?”

“It would be too big for that,” Julian interjected.

“In her?” Ainsley offered.

“It’s...possible,” Julian said.

“Poor Camilla Parker Bowles is lucky Garrett didn’t come after her with that cane,” said Grace.

“Let’s go get the dog and take her to Volker for an X-ray,” Ainsley said.

“No, you do that, Ainsley,” Grace said. “Julian and I are going back to the hospital. I know what’s wrong with Sadie.”

CHAPTER 22

Erik was back in his room, staring at the glow stars on the ceiling, and seriously thinking about grabbing one of Jake’s romance novels just for something to distract him from his nervous energy, when he heard the front door bang shut.

“Ezekiel! Are you still playing on that idiot box! Turn it off!” LeeAnn’s voice cut through the house about an octave higher than he’d heard it before.

“Yes, ma’am,” he heard the boy say.

“Mary! Why is there no dinner?” she yelled, her voice sounded almost triumphant.

Erik heard Mary sigh dramatically in the room next to his, then the creak of her mattress as she dragged herself out of bed and down the stairs.

Erik hopped up too. He was pretty sure LeeAnn didn’t have anything to holler at him about, but he didn’t want to take any chances. And besides, he was excited about her new-found energy.

When he reached the foot of the stairs, he saw Mary lolling in the kitchen doorway, Zeke peering around her. The twins, Ruth and Rachel, worked to untie the bright orange belts from around their white karate uniforms. Erik heard the banging and smashing of utensils and pans.

“This town has got to get back to business as usual,” LeeAnn was saying. “Just because something bad happened doesn’t mean we can sit around feeling sorry for ourselves. Mary! Get me the beans!”

Mary scrambled into the kitchen and opened a cupboard.

“Here, Mom,” she said, handing over the can.

“Well, open it! You know what to do,” LeeAnn said. “I’m making cowboy dinner, Zeke, how’s that?”

The boy smiled guardedly, but didn’t move out of the doorway. Erik figured he didn’t know what to make of his mom’s newfound energy.

“So the talk with Patty went well?” Erik ventured.

“Oh, yeah. I am so glad you suggested it! We’ve got a plan and I’m putting it in motion tonight. We’re going to organize the Copper Creek Halloween Parade - life goes on.”

“Yes!” Zeke yelled.

“Girls,” LeeAnn hollered, “Don’t you get those uniforms dirty. Put them back in the bag on the dining room table where they belong, then go get dressed for supper.”

Ruth and Rachel answered with a stampede of miniature footsteps and tiny giggles.

“What a great idea,” Erik said. “The parade, I mean.”

“Ezekiel, honey, you can help with that. We’re gonna decorate the house tonight to get everyone into the spirit of it. Everyone’s looking to us. If our family can celebrate, others will do the same. Can you and Dr. Jensen get the decorations out of the attic?”

“Yup,” Zeke said.

“Ezekiel Miller.”

“I meant yes, Ma’am,” he returned.

“That’s better,” LeeAnn said. “Oh, and kids, what costumes do you want? Patty and I are going shopping tomorrow to get supplies and fabric if we need it.”

“A ninja,” Zeke said enthusiastically.

“You were a ninja last year,” Mary said.

“But this year, I’m gonna be a ZOMBIE ninja! Get lots of fake blood, Mom. Like, lots.”

“I wanna be Batman,” came a high-pitched voice from the dining room. Erik thought it was Ruth, but he wasn’t a hundred percent sure.

“Bat-girl!” the other, even higher voice corrected.

“No! BatMAN I said. Batgirl is stupid.”

“Batgirl,” came the sing-song reply. “Batgirl, batgirl, batgiiiiiiiiirl.”

“Mom!” The tiny footsteps thundered up the stairs without waiting for an answer.

“What about you, Mary?” LeeAnn asked, nonplussed.

“Oh, I can’t decide!” Mary began excitedly. She looked around the room, her lips pursed in concentration. Until she noticed Erik. The excitement on her face disappeared like a door had closed.

“Actually,” she said in a serious tone. “I think I’m getting kinda old for this stuff. I’m not going to dress up this year.”

Erik hoped she wasn’t trying to impress him. But he had just talked with her about her new, grown-up responsibilities. He’d have to find a way to let her know it was okay to dress up.

While he was thinking, Zeke grabbed his arm and began pulling him toward the stairs.

“Come on, doc, let’s get the decorations! The spider goes on my door this year! Well, your door, I guess.”

Erik climbed up the pull-down steps and ventured all the way into the attic.

“Did you find ‘em?” Zeke asked eagerly.

“Oh, sure. Here, can you carry these?” Erik asked, handing the boy a clear plastic bin labeled GRAVESTONES AND BONES.

“Yup!” Zeke grabbed it and clambered back down the ladder.

Erik looked back for the next box. Behind the space he’d just cleared, something caught his eye. A chest. Definitely an antique. Wood with sulfur inlays. And not coated with a layer of dust like everything else in the attic seemed to be.

Which meant it was used often.

He’d seen this type of chest before. Erik searched his memory and was hit with an unexpected pang of sadness. It looked an awful lot like the one at Ainsley’s house.

He tried to open it but it was locked.

Shoot.

Erik froze and tried to get into Jake’s mind. I hide a chest and I lock it. I have a small house and two curious kids. Where do I put the key?

He looked around for an answer.

The edge of something peeked over the side of the massive rafter above his head. Not daring to believe that luck might be with him, he held his breath and reached up.

Snap!

“Ouch!”

Oh, sweet god, that hurt!

“You okay up there?” he heard LeeAnn holler.

“I’m fine,” he yelled back through clenched teeth. “Found your mouse trap!”

He shook his hand, then pulled himself up to check for more traps.

Next to the spent mouse trap sat an old, brass key.

Smart, Jake, smart.

“Hey, doc, I’m ready for the next one!” Zeke piped up from the second floor landing.

“Okay,” Erik said, absentmindedly scanning the attic for another Halloween box. A small box labeled SPIDER RINGS caught his eye and he handed it down the ladder to where Zeke was waiting.

“Sweet!” Zeke chortled as he headed down.

A moment later, Erik heard a small crash and Zeke’s cry of despair.

“Well, pick them all up!” LeeAnn said.

Maybe the spilled plastic spider rings would buy him enough time to check out the chest. He slid the key into the lock and it opened easily.

Books filled the inside. Mostly romance novels, like Mary had told him were up here. But the two books on top stood out from the rest. He grabbed them both for a closer look.

Native American Symbols and Meanings and Encyclopedia of Myth, Legend and Folklore.

He opened Native American Symbols and Meanings and began to skim it. Hastily scrawled notes filled the margins. They were numbers, not words. Some had symbols too. One showed two arrows pointing at each other. Another looked like a mask with two antennae on top and fuzzy antlers on the side. Erik had never seen anything like it. He turned the book sideways and it looked a little like pac-man with feet.

Erik closed the book and picked up the Encyclopedia of Myth, Legend and Folklore. A piece of folded notebook paper acted as a bookmark near the middle of the volume. He opened to the saved page.

Eastern European Myths. The entry was titled Moroi.

Moroi: From the Romanian word ‘mort’ meaning ‘dead’ or the Slavic word meaning ‘nightmare’

Why would Jake be interested in that?

He’d have to study them more later. Maybe Bonnie at the library could help him shed some light on it.

He was about to return the folded paper that had been holding the spot when he noticed it had writing on it. A drawing of some kind.

He opened the paper and his heart turned to ice. The notepaper held a sketch of a complicated, interwoven symbol.

The symbol on the trap that took his wolf.

Erik’s eyes got lost in the patterns on the paper. The runes writhed and twisted into the shape of the snake. Ainsley screamed his name as the dripping, silver fangs sunk into his back.

Erik.

“Erik?”

A hand touched his back in the exact spot where he still carried the scar. Erik jumped slightly.

“Dr. Jensen, is everything okay?”

Mary.

He hadn’t even noticed her come up. Stupid human hearing.

“I’m fine, Mary, just lost in my own head for a minute,” he tried to smile casually and worried that he probably looked like a serial killer.

“Are those the books you were looking for?” she asked, her eyes wide behind the glasses.

“These?” he asked, tucking the paper back inside. “They’re just some overdue library books. I’ll run them back in the morning.”

He handed her a cardboard box with the word PUNKINS written on it in sharpie, then grabbed a bin of orange lights for himself.

As Mary headed down before him, he opened the book and stole one last glance at the notebook paper.

What the hell was going on in Copper Creek?

CHAPTER 23

C harley Coslaw sat on the wooden bench in the middle of Triangle Park, Garrett Sanderson storming and pacing around him.

Charley found if he concentrated he could tune the other man out enough to enjoy the view of the sky, bordered by the brilliant yellow of the trees that formed a perimeter around the park.

Too soon, Garrett’s tone took a sharper pitch and Charley had to tune back in.

“--so why the hell did you hesitate?” Garrett was asking, “We could have finished them off!”

Charley took a deep breath.

“Garrett, you’re too impulsive.” He spoke in calm, measured tones. “Our Order has waited hundreds of years for this. Your temper is not going to ruin it now. You already screwed up with the old woman”

“She is of no consequence,” Garrett said, flicking his hand like he was shooing away a pesky fly.

It made Charley mad. He knew she was one of the pack, but there was no need to treat Sadie Epstein-Walker like she wasn’t worth anything. Charley had learned long ago that everything held value to someone.

“Plus, you told me the cop wasn’t a threat.” Charley said. “If I’d known she had that much power, I wouldn’t have given her the chance to act. What was it you called her? A ‘two-bit palm reader?’”

“I’ll deal with her,” Garrett shot back. “We need to concentrate on the alpha bitch. Once she’s out of the way, we’ll have access to search for the key at our leisure”

“Did it ever occur to you that it’s not that simple?” Charley asked. “There is no way her friends and her pack are going to just let us get away with that. We’d have to kill half the town to do it your way.”

“Once the Elder is released, the town is doomed anyway,” Sanderson said lightly.

“Not if we don’t find the key first,” Charley reminded him, “He will emerge too weak, even after the sacrifice we provided. We need the key, so we can release him on our terms, without interference from the pack. We need to find it, fast.”

“I was sure Sadie gave the key to the Connor girl,” Garrett mused. “That was a mistake. She obviously doesn’t have it, but she and her friends will be looking for it, now. We need to make sure we get to it first.”

“So what else could Sadie have done with it?” Charley asked.

“You’ve known her a good deal longer than I have,” Garrett replied.

Charley thought about it. He remembered Sadie from when he was a boy and she was just Mrs. Epstein, the beautiful older woman who paid him to shovel her walk and do chores so she could focus on traveling to wonderful places and tending to her beautiful garden.

“There’s not a lot of mystery. All she does nowadays is fiddle with her plants,” he said.

“I’ve searched the property thoroughly,” Sanderson replied.

“And traipse around town with that little dog,” Charley added.

“Which you lost,” Sanderson said accusingly.

“I had my hands full,” Charley said, struggling to keep his anger in check. “In case you didn’t notice when you were pulling your vanishing act. Plus, I scanned the mutt when I had it. Nothing.”

“So it’s got to be behind some serious protection if we can find it with divination. Where?” Garrett asked.

“The Connor house is pretty much a black hole. I thought the protections would fail once I had the parents taken care of, but I haven’t been able to get a read from there,” Charley admitted.

“And you’re sure it’s not the warlock?” Garrett asked.

“Yes,” Charley said. “It’s not his specialty. He’s a formidable opponent in battle, but he’s not skilled enough to weave a protective cloak that tight. I saw the wards he put on the doors.”

“It’s too bad your sheriff friend is no longer around,” Garrett frowned. “It sounds like we would have more luck if we sent him to sniff it out.”

The pieces clicked together for Charley.

“The dog,” he said simply.

“You already said you checked the dog.”

“The dog,” Charley breathed. “When it jumped out of the car, it made a beeline right for Ainsley’s front garden. It always pulled in that direction when I walked it past the Connor house.”

“And Sadie would’ve known it would be beyond our power to magically locate it on Ainsley’s property,” Sanderson said, his nostrils flaring.

“I just bought a new, non-magical shovel from the hardware store,” Charley said, a grin spreading across his face.

“Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 24

The silent car ride to the hospital had been tense enough. But by the time she and Julian were in the hospital’s glass elevator, Grace could feel the electricity between them escalate further.

She tried to distract herself by looking out over the Springton Falls. The oaks that stretched over the water were a brilliant red.

“Grace,” Julian said simply.

She squared her shoulders and gazed out over the woods.

“I know I wasn’t honest with you in the beginning, but if you really think about it, can you blame me?” he asked.

She couldn’t. Not really. She hadn’t been honest with Landon when they were getting to know each other. But she hadn’t felt this way about Landon, she hadn’t felt this trust, this...love. And that made her mad.

“You insinuated yourself into Tarker’s Hollow business. Ainsley and I have let you in on every secret. You know every weakness, every quirk. And all along you’ve been hiding everything from us,” she said, without turning from the window.

“Knowing what I know wouldn’t have helped Ainsley. It would have intimidated her even more, and you know it,” he said quietly. “Now that she is more comfortable with her magic, she’s ready to know more. I care about you Grace, please don’t shut me out.”

“You have no idea what Ainsley can handle. You’ve known her less than two months. And you’ve done a great job showing exactly how you feel about me and the rest of the town,” she said.

He didn’t reply. Grace couldn’t resist sneaking a look at him.

He was running a hand through his golden hair. His blue eyes were tortured.

Her whole body responded in a wave of love.

Hating herself, she was throwing caution to the wind to launch herself into his arms, when the elevator dinged.

They had reached the 10th floor.

Julian gestured for her to exit first.

Grace caught her breath, and walked past him as calmly as she could. Thank goodness for that elevator. She had almost thrown away her self-respect.

She avoided looking at him on their long walk down the hallway to Sadie’s room. The setting of their incredible adventure now seemed like a plain old hospital hallway again.

Owen was there waiting outside Sadie’s door for them.

“Grace, what’s going on? You sounded so excited on the phone!” he looked confused.

Grace figured she probably looked angry rather than excited now. “I need to see Sadie right away!” she said.

“Okay, but there’s been no change in her condition,” Owen said, stepping out of the doorway to let her in.

Grace strode over to Sadie. She took a deep breath and began to unwind the bandage from around Sadie’s head.

Owen was on her in two long strides. “What are you doing?” he asked, grabbing her wrist.

“What the hell are you doing?” Julian echoed.

“The same thing I did for Javier!” Grace hissed, wrenching her arm away from Owen. “If you are really protecting this patient’s best interests you won’t interfere again!”

“What are you talking about?” Julian asked.

“Who is Javier?” Owen asked. By his tone, Grace could tell he had given up hope of getting an answer.

“Sadie was attacked by the same person,” Grace said. The bandage was nearly off now. She worked delicately around Sadie’s scalp.

“Attacked? I thought she fell down the stairs!” Owen said.

“Long story,” Grace said, concentrating on the bandage.

“So you think there is still a trace of silver in her?” Julian breathed.

“Let’s hope so,” Grace said, as the last strip of cloth peeled off the angry wound. “Otherwise we’re pinning our hopes on the idea that she somehow cut open her beloved dog to hide a key inside it.”

“Wait, what?” Owen asked. “What the hell is going on here?”

Grace waved her hand over the wound. “I feel something,” she said. “Just like with Javier.”

“Look, we’ve done plenty of scans,” Owen said, “The doctors would have noticed something in there that doesn’t belong.”

“It’s not ordinary silver,” Julian said, “And it doesn’t want to be found.”

“I think I can get it,” Grace said, “but it looks like it might have gone to her brain.”

“If it is something in her bloodstream, it won’t be able to cross the blood-brain barrier,” Owen said.

Grace and Julian exchanged a look.

“Unless this is some kind of ‘magical’ silver,” Owen continued playfully.

Grace gave Julian an inquiring look.

“I don’t really know,” Julian shrugged.

“I wasn’t serious,” Owen said.

“I’ll have to risk it,” Grace replied to Julian. “If it’s progressing, then she won’t have a chance if I don’t.”

“Do it,” Julian said.

“DO WHAT?!” Owen cried.

“Look, just try to keep anyone from coming in, okay?” Julian told him.

Grace had already begun to summon the silver. She could feel it now. Sadie’s own energy was calm, but something in her was buzzing and sizzling away.

It fought her hard. She reeled it, dragging and tugging. But it was like a minnow with the strength of a whale.

“What are you doing to her?” Owen asked, with fear in his voice.

Sadie was so still and tiny, it frightened Grace a little too. But she had no strength left to talk. No room for anything in her body or mind besides the pursuit of this small, evil thing.

At last she felt the thing begin to give way. Suddenly Sadie’s body began to jerk and twist.

“Hold her still!” she called, with the last of her breath.

Julian was instantly there, holding Sadie’s shoulders still.

The pulse of Sadie’s heart monitor quickened.

“I’ve almost got it,” Grace huffed.

“You have to stop!” Owen howled, “You’re killing her!”

There was a horrid low tone as the heart monitor flat-lined. Then an alarm went off.

Grace ignored it all. She had it, the awful thing was in her clutches. Everything else was only meant to distract her.

Footsteps approached the door.

“Clauditis,” Julian said, pointing at the door. The knob turned twice but it remained shut.

“Wh--wh--” Owen began.

“HOLD HER STILL!” Grace yelled, and ventured a glance away from Sadie. She locked her best policewoman expression on Owen.

There was pounding on the door.

But Owen joined Julian and Grace over Sadie’s body. He held her hips to the table.

Grace called on a reserve of strength she hadn’t known she had. Sweat dripped from her forehead, her upper lip, and even ran in droplets down her back.

She felt the horrid thing release.

A tiny, silver droplet emerged from the wound on Sadie’s head. It turned to smoke. Before it dissipated, it took the form of a snake and struck at Grace’s face, dissolving before it made contact.

They all started.

Then the door burst open.

“What’s going on in here?” asked a very stern looking nurse.

Owen’s lips moved but no sound came out.

Then Sadie’s eyes flickered open.

“Will someone please stop all that pounding?” Sadie asked politely.

“Go find the doctor, Alberta!” Owen said, finding his voice at last.

Alberta stared for a moment, then turned on her heel and marched away.

Grace hugged Sadie close, “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she whispered in her ear.

“There’s not much time,” Sadie said, pushing her away. “You have to get the key.”

Grace slipped her phone out of her pocket and tapped the contact for Ainsley.

“Just tell me where it is,” she replied.

CHAPTER 25

The sun dipped behind the college woods as Ainsley left Volker’s house, Camilla Parker Bowles tucked under her arm.

The warmth of the little dog helped to ease some of the stress she’d been building up all day.

The x-rays had come back clean. In a way, Ainsley felt relieved. She hadn’t given much though to how they would get the key out of the dog if they found it. It had been a long shot, anyway.

Hopefully Grace’s hunch was paying off. Ainsley snuggled the dog a little closer thinking about how much she must miss her mistress.

A sharp note of perfume and spice alerted her to Ophelia’s presence just before she appeared from around the corner.

“Ainsley, you have a pet,” Ophelia remarked. “How... quaint.”

“Oh, no,” Ainsley explained. “I’m just watching her for a sick friend. A packmate.”

“Walk with me,” Ophelia said.

“Of course,” Ainsley replied, adjusting her pace to keep up with Ophelia’s long strides.

Just then, the familiar voice of Sting, belting out the chorus of Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic exploded out of Ainsley’s phone.

Grace’s ringtone. Shit.

Ophelia raised an eyebrow.

“A friend changed the ringtone as a joke,” Ainsley explained as she tapped the screen to decline the call.

Ophelia eyed the dog, then the phone. “You have...interesting friends.”

“You have no idea,” Ainsley said before she could stop herself.

They walked on in silence for a few minutes toward Ainsley’s house. Overhead, the streetlights turned on, one by one.

“Ainsley, what do you know about your duty?” Ophelia asked unexpectedly.

“To lead and protect my pack,” Ainsley answered immediately.

“That is the duty of an alpha,” Ophelia acknowledged. “But what about the duty of the pack?”

“The pack has a duty?” Ainsley asked. Even as the words left her mouth, she knew what Ophelia must be talking about.

“The location of each wolf pack is no accident, Ainsley,” Ophelia began. “You should have learned this from your parents, but here we are.”

Ainsley felt a pang of regret. Her own stubbornness had cost her her relationship with her parents. And now it was too late. They were gone.

“There are darker things in this life than you know,’ Ophelia continued. “And we wolves are strategically positioned to be the first line of defense between the dark ones and the rest of the world, should it come to that.”

She was talking about the thing under the field house. That’s why the pack had always been in Tarker’s Hollow? Why they couldn’t just relocated to avoid unwanted attention? Was she a glorified, furry prison guard?

“It has been this way for hundreds of years,” Ophelia said. “But lately, we have had cause for concern.”

“Concern?” Ainsley asked.

“Of course,” Ophelia continued. “There are always those who seek to exploit the dark power to their own ends. And those forces are stirring, as if they are preparing for something.”

Ophelia looked her in the eyes, taking her measure. Ainsley hoped she wasn’t left wanting.

“Most wolves live without the burden of this knowledge. But you are the alpha, Ainsley Connor. You must be prepared, so that your pack, such as it is, can fulfill its duty.”

“Prepared?” Ainsley asked carefully.

“You are a natural wolf, Ainsley, and your lieutenants have trained you well in the mundane skills. You’re mastering your senses and developing your physical strengths. But there is more to being a wolf than heightened senses and quick healing.”

Ainsley paused to take that in. She was semi-awestruck that Ophelia was happy with her hastily learned ‘mundane skills.’ But what else could there be?

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Magic,” Ophelia said simply.

“Magic?” Ainsley asked, incredulous.

“More specifically, resistance to magic,” Ophelia told her. “It’s one of the reasons we are so well suited to our role as protector. Wolves and magic don’t mix. Most wolves have some innate resistance to magic, but like your tracking and fighting, it is a skill that can be developed. I can help you.”

They emerged from the woods, and cut across Ainsley’s backyard to the enter on the front porch. Ainsley wanted her superior to see the grandest part of the house first. Old real estate habits died hard.

Ainsley smelled the presence of the two men before they had rounded the corner, and her hackles rose instinctively.

They stepped into the front yard to see Charley Coslaw and Garrett Sanderson standing in the middle of her lawn.

CHAPTER 26

A  low growl built in Ainsley’s throat as she set Camilla Parker Bowles down on the grass. What the hell were these two doing back at her house? And why was Charley carrying a shovel?

Camilla Parker Bowles made a bee-line to the rhododendrons in the flower bed.

Ainsley finally realized what the little dog had been trying to tell her all along.

The key.

Sadie had buried the key in Ainsley’s rhododendrons.

Ainsley knew every second was precious. She needed to get the key before the warlocks did, or risk the whole future of Tarker’s Hollow.

But Charley was already at the edge of the flower bed, bending over to see where the dog was digging.

She could blast him, but she didn’t dare use her magic in front of Ophelia.

Garrett began to murmur a familiar spell at Ophelia.

Ainsley had just enough time to protect her alpha.

Or to protect her pack.

She made her decision and started to move.

CONTINUE the story in Episode 3!

Fate of the Alpha: Episode 3

AFTERWORD

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-Tasha

ALSO BY TASHA BLACK

Fate of the Alpha: Episode 3:

Something wicked has come to Tarker’s Hollow…

Don’t miss the exciting conclusion to the spellbinding Fate of the Alpha story!!

Winter Heat:

Set in Bella Andre’s Game for Love world, Winter Heat is the story of a young artist that falls for a bad-boy snowboarder with a dark secret. If think you know enough about me by now to take a guess at the secret, you might be surprised!