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Despite everything, my lips curved upward as I took in the daffodils blooming on either side of the path leading to Natalie’s porch. Three months ago, when my friend left her children’s father, the outlook hadn’t been nearly so bright.
“Move in with the pack,” I’d offered. Natalie was human, but she was an honorary clan member. My wolves would have welcomed her and her kids.
But she’d shaken her head. “I have to stand on my own two feet for the sake of the children.”
Unfortunately, that was a tall order, creating a new life for herself. Natalie’s cash flow had been stuck at zero as a stay-at-home mom and her dickhead ex seemed intent upon dragging out the divorce settlement until the baby earned her Ph.D.
My offer of a financial gift was roundly rejected, but Natalie had accepted the job I created for her and turned it into a calling. When she developed the first biodegradable glitter prototype, her bonus had been earned rather than granted. Kale and I—and presumably also the baby—were duly impressed.
Soon thereafter, Natalie turned that bonus into a downpayment on a property that looked so terrible even Willa had winced during our initial visit. But my human friend had seen the good bones beneath the overgrown grass and peeling paint.
Now, three months later, the property had become a home. Fresh paint. Curtains. Daffodils poking up out of the ground.
And...I hoped...a warmth so strong it attracted an upset twelve-year-old back to his nest.
“Kale,” I called, pounding on the door with my fist. “It’s Tara. I want to talk to you. To apologize.”
Persimmon alerted me that Rune had followed me up the walkway while I was assessing home improvements. His voice was a murmur. “Is this usual behavior for the child?”
I shrugged. “Kale’s twelve. There is no usual at that age.”
There was also no answer to my pounding. Back door it was.
But...Rune was impossible to ignore as I turned away from the door that wasn’t opening. To get by, I’d either have to make a big deal of asking him to move, trample Natalie’s daffodils, or brush past....
As the fabric of our clothes made contact, my breath caught. My skin tingled just like when the Guardian’s cleansed glitter had floated onto my bare skin. Not just on my hip and shoulder where Rune and I had almost touched either. The effervescence sparked through my body from head to foot.
Focus, I chided myself for what felt like the millionth time, refusing to meet Rune’s eyes as I turned away from him. I was almost running—to something, I told myself, not away from him—by the time I reached the backyard.
There, I reached up into the hollow of the silver maple in search of the spare key. Bark beneath my fingers grounded me. This time, I was able to ignore Rune as I unlocked the back door and started my search.
It didn’t take long to scan every room. Unless Kale was hiding under a bed or in a cabinet, he wasn’t present. Rather than taking all day to tear the house apart the human way....
“I’m going to shift and smell for him,” I informed Rune, who’d continued to shadow me.
No, not shadow me. He was facing in the opposite direction. His muscles were tense. His response—“Noted”—was curt enough to give me pause.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
And this time Rune’s voice sweetened. “I’ll guard your back.” His words slid through the air like wind chimes. Curling around me, they pressed against my skin.
Ignoring the resurrected tingling, I slid out of my clothes, profoundly aware of my own nakedness. Rune didn’t appear to notice, however. When I glanced over my shoulder, he was still facing resolutely away.
Of course he was. Nakedness was a common occurrence among werewolves. And whatever my wolf tried to tell me about persimmon and seduction, Rune was merely doing his job.
Tamping down disappointment, I fell onto paws and raised my chin to scent the air around me. It appeared Rune had repeated his trick from the factory, pulling his persimmon aroma back inside his body before entering Natalie’s house. Which, while personally disappointing, was helpful since it allowed me to sniff for Kale without being distracted by Rune’s overwhelming scent.
Given that assistance, it should have been easy to seek out one human child. Would have been if Kale was present.
But he wasn’t. No aromas met my nose other than old trails of the family and my own recent footsteps. I trotted through the small space twice to be certain that none of the former were more recent than yesterday. Then I returned to my pile of belongings and shifted, launching myself upward into humanity so I could grab what I needed to ask for the Guardian’s help.
Behind me, I caught a rustle of fabric as Rune nudged the clothes I hadn’t bothered with. “The neighbors...”
“Can’t see into the backyard.”
There wasn’t time to argue with him, so I was glad Rune didn’t press the issue. Outside, I headed for the only patch of forest, the debris heap where previous owners had raked maple leaves onto a dormant flowerbed. There, I sunk my knees into the soil, unsurprised when no bite from the Guardian met my approach.
Its reach here was weak. Very weak. I’d need more than roots and fungi to connect with the Guardian amid paved suburbia. Meanwhile, the unicorn would be unable to carry me between worlds, not when the few trees in Natalie’s neighborhood were separated by large tracts of barren lawn.
There was one small patch of the Guardian’s tiny blue flowers, however. They were drabber here, just like Kale had pointed out. More of a weed than a wildflower. Still, some blood dripped on their faces was sure to get the Guardian’s attention.
I raised the knife to my throat, then yelped as Rune knocked the weapon out of my hand.
***
“WHAT. DO. YOU. THINK. You’re. Doing?”
Rune’s skin remained human on the surface, but this was his wolf speaking. Yellow eyes. Throaty growl. Words separated by anger so intense it raised hairs along the back of my neck.
I didn’t bother reaching for the knife. Rune would be faster than me with his beast at the forefront.
He would be faster than me and he’d smell it if I lied to him. There was no way I could dodge the issue by sending him away.
So, even though our family Bargain was supposed to be a secret, I shrugged and spilled the story in broad strokes. After all, Rune was half-fae himself. Surely he wouldn’t overreact when I told him—
“I’m asking the Guardian for help.”
He didn’t overreact. Just looked confused. “The guardian?”
“Capital G,” I corrected. “A fae that....”
“Fae?” Now Rune overreacted. With one sharp kick, he sent the knife spinning further away from me. Then he paced jerkily from one end of the yard to the other. “How long has this been going on?”
Okay, so maybe he wasn’t as cool with the Whelan secret as I’d expected. Still, I had neither the time nor the inclination to placate him. Instead, I told him the truth. “Not that it’s any of your business, but the Guardian has protected our pack for generations.”
“Generations?” He dropped to his knees so he could peer directly into my eyes.
And even though I should have been annoyed at him digging into my business, I found myself returning his gaze. Searching and finding questions in his irises. Also pain, as if I was shaking up his entire worldview.
Meanwhile, the wolf had faded. As if three passes across Natalie’s backyard had been enough to quiet a beast that had seemed far too strong to be quieted. That spoke to control born of extended practice.
And of a need for extended practice. A need related to being born half-fae then committing himself to hunting down his own kin?
“Your pack has been occupied by fae for generations,” Rune repeated as if giving me space to jump in with evidence of misunderstanding, “and the Samhain Shifters didn’t know about it.”
“Not all fae are dangerous.” Something made me reach out and press my palm against the back of Rune’s hand. Something made me smile when his fingers turned upward so they could clasp mine.
For a moment, we knelt there, connected by more than our fingers. A sparrow trilled from the bushes. Persimmon pushed up against my bare skin.
Rune was the one who broke the silence. “You believe that.”
“I do.”
“Your Guardian hasn’t harmed your pack during all those generations? There haven’t been unexplained losses? Dominance unaccountably drained?”
My head was shaking before he was halfway through his questions. “None of that. The Guardian has kept us safe. Other packs have gone under, but ours has had no problem fending off invasions. We’re never even troubled with infighting. You have to trust me on this one. I know the Guardian and you don’t.”
His fingers clenched, the gesture apparently involuntary. “And this Guardian is going to help you find the lost child?”
I nodded.
The wolf flared in his eyes for one split second. “Even though you need to slice your throat to request that help.”
“Not slice my throat. Make a scratch. Release a little blood.”
He raised the hands we had clasped. “You have blood here. In safer spots.”
“Throat blood is life blood,” I explained the same way my father had. “It’s powerful.”
This really wasn’t a big deal. I’d done it before and would do it again.
Only Rune disagreed. He released me so fast our separation felt like a recoil.
I blinked. Not a recoil. He was reaching for the knife.
His voice was a growl. “I’ll provide the blood if blood is necessary.”
“No.” My alpha order didn’t work on him, but the command caught his attention. “It has to be me,” I added more quietly. “The Alpha has a special connection to the Guardian.”
Rune’s nostrils flared. He wanted to deny me.
Could have too. He’d proven already that he could force me to bend to his will.
Instead, he closed his eyes again until the wolf receded a second time. Then he used words, as if we were mere humans discussing a difference of opinion. “Let me make the cut then. You can’t see your own throat. You could hurt yourself.”
Was it any safer to let a stranger slice inches away from my carotid arteries?
Yes, it was safer. For some reason I couldn’t put a finger on, I tilted my chin upward and bared my throat.