“You up for a few more adventures tonight?”
Callum paused while buckling his seat belt. “What do you have in mind?”
Elliot started the truck and backed out of his mother’s driveway. “I’ve got a couple more friends you should probably meet. If you end up staying for a while and need a set of wheels, they’ll be the best ones to help you find a ride.”
“Sure.”
“Besides, I could use a drink after finding out about Syd.” Elliot shook his head, but focused on the road.
Callum felt bad for him. He hadn’t been particularly thrilled when Fredrica brought Maddox around and they were fated mates. He couldn’t imagine having to worry about his little sister potentially being raped in some stupid male chest-thumping contest.
“You keep telling me it’s safe. With her signed up, you’ll be honest with me, right? She’s not going to get raped or something, is she?”
Elliot’s shoulders relaxed a bit as he blew out a long breath. “No. She won’t.” He glanced over, looking tired. “I meant it when I said it’s safe. The females that sign up are willing, like Sydney. But she could end up with an awful mate.”
“What kind of men sign up for it?”
Elliot turned the steering wheel, driving them further from the denser forests and past some open fields toward town. “It’s a mix. Omegas from all over come. It’s their best shot at getting a female. But there are some betas and alphas thrown in. The alphas travel from quite a distance to do it. It’s exotic, apparently. They join for the thrill.”
“That’s stupid.”
Smirking, Elliot snorted. “Stupid as it may seem, there’s definitely an energy that night. Something primal.”
Callum absorbed that. They were shifters. The mating pull was calling him. It wouldn’t be surprising that the Curusm had a palpable vibe to it as well. “What happens tomorrow?”
Elliot frowned. “Tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Is there another meeting? I’m assuming you have to work. What am I expected to do?”
“Oh.” Elliot turned down the main road leading into Thatcher’s little town. “Thatcher will probably have a few meetings this week. There’s a big BBQ on Thursday afternoon. It’s to celebrate the Curusm and welcome newcomers for their upcoming stay.”
“Should I come to the meetings? The BBQ? I’m not running in the Curusm, so I shouldn’t come to the BBQ, right?”
“Come to the BBQ. It’s a welcome to the pack event. It’s a whole thing. Like a mini festival. Food. Entertainment. Everyone will be there.” Elliot turned the radio down when the classic rock station switched to an advertisement block. “The meetings…come or don’t come. Might be better if you don’t draw unwanted attention. You’ve come to one, you’ve shown your respect to the alpha–”
“Is that what I’ve done?” Callum teased. “What do I do all day, though? I’m used to having a job.”
“Maybe just shadow Rafe.” His cousin shrugged. “Between Rafe and Anna, I’m sure they can come up with lots for you to do.” Elliot turned into a parking lot and backed the truck into a vacant space next to a building for a towing and garage business. “Mom might have a few projects she needs done around the store. I can ask her.”
“Okay.” Callum leaned forward to peer out the front window.
A red neon sign read: Tow and Go Bros. As they’d pulled in, Callum had seen two tow trucks at the back of the building. It looked as though there were at least three bays at the front.
“These guys…” Elliot trailed off, stared at the brown brick building.
Callum glanced over.
“I trust Rafe with my life.”
Understanding, Callum looked back at the building. “But these guys you don’t?”
“I do.” His head shook as he seemed to figure out his next words. “I have, actually.” He sighed. “They’re good guys.”
“But…”
“I said you can speak freely with Rafe. Just be aware of these guys. We’re not a hundred percent sure where their loyalties lie.”
Grabbing the door handle, Callum nodded. “Got it.”
Together, they crossed the pavement. Rock music blared from the open bay door. Elliot led the way through the bay door and into the garage. In the farthest bay, a truck was on a hoist as a young man in denim overalls worked on the brakes. An old Buick occupied the middle bay, and the last was empty.
The scent of fuel, oil and dirt occupied the enclosed space. Tool chests monopolized the far wall, and above them hung a variety of tools. Nearest the main building were tall gray cabinets and a long wooden workbench with two stools taking up a good portion of the back wall. A stereo sat on the workbench, providing the music that thumped through the garage. Next to it was a mug half full with what looked like coffee.
Remaining focused on his task, the man under the truck didn’t bother to look over.
Callum followed as Elliot crossed the cement floor and turned down the radio.
Moments later, the door to the building opened and a man about their age stepped through. Dark blue coveralls were unbuttoned down his chest, revealing a gray shirt streaked with grease and dirt. A backward facing ball cap hid most of his hair, but the bits sticking out beneath it were damp with sweat. Facial hair framed his mouth and jaw, and thick, dark eyebrows sat above a set of dark gray eyes.
In one hand, he held a reusable water bottle. Taking a swig, he let the door slam shut behind him. “Figured it would be you touching my radio.”
Elliot grinned.
The man glanced at the teenager beneath the truck. “Jonah here values his job too much to dare touch my stereo.”
From the first bay, the teen snorted out a chuckle, but didn’t turn his attention from his task.
“How’s it going?” Elliot asked.
The man shrugged. “Same old.”
Elliot nodded toward the Buick. “Ms. Cloverly’s car is back, I see.”
The mechanic rolled his eyes and took another drink. “I wish she’d let me junk it. I’m sick of trying to fix it. Soon it’ll be more duct tape and zip ties than metal. Not to mention her payment plan.”
Smirking, Elliot told Callum, “Ms. Cloverly is nearly eighty-five, and probably shouldn’t be driving. But she bakes a damn good pie.”
“Okay.” Callum chuckled, not fully following.
“This is Duncan,” Elliot introduced them.
Duncan pulled a cloth from his back pocket and wiped his hand before offering it to Callum. “You the cousin, right?”
“Callum.” He nodded, accepting the handshake.
“Well, come on in then.” Duncan turned and headed back the way he came. As he passed the teenager, he called out, “When you’re done there, put it out back, get your hours in the book. We’re done for the night. We’ll pick up on Ms. Cloverly’s tomorrow.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
Callum was the last through the door. The main building consisted of a waiting room painted gray. Opposite the front window was a wall mounted television, and five shiny hubcaps. In a display case by the front desk was a variety of model cars.
Duncan led them straight past the desk and into a narrow hallway. He knocked on an open door and poked his head in. “Elliot’s here.”
They continued down the hall. Callum peeked into the room Duncan had knocked at. Inside, at a wooden desk, a man sat speaking into a corded phone, staring at a computer screen. One desk drawer was open, and the walls had a few photos, diplomas, and certificates on display.
At the end of the hall, Duncan pushed open a door. Inside was a brightly lit room with a long wooden table surrounded by folding chairs. Six lockers were behind the door, and beyond that a row of hooks, all empty but for a tattered-looking sweater. Between the lockers and the table, two sofas sat facing one another.
Duncan unbuttoned the rest of his coveralls before unlacing his boots and removing both his footwear and the coveralls. He placed them in a locker, shook out a pair of sweatpants, and pulled them on. Next, he swapped his dirt-stained shirt for a clean one. The garage logo was on the top left corner of the fabric.
The mechanic plopped down on the sofa with the satisfied groan of a man whose work day was finally done. “Have a seat, guys.”
Callum claimed a spot on the vacant couch while Elliot headed to the fridge. His cousin came back with three beers. They’d barely gotten the tops popped before the man from the office joined them.
Twisting, Callum nodded to him.
“Hey,” he tipped his chin, “I’m Mercer. Callum, right?”
“Yeah.” He reached over the back of the sofa and shook Mercer’s hand.
“Duncan and Mercer are brothers,” Elliot explained as Mercer went to the fridge for his own beer. “Duncan’s a mechanic, and Mercer runs the tow truck side of the business.”
Mercer popped the top on his bottle and tossed the cap across the table. It skidded to a stop before a cherry pie that was missing a few slices. “Anyone want pie?”
“Uh,” Duncan groaned. “I wish she’d junk it already. Find something new. I offered to help her find a new car, but she won’t budge.”
Mercer turned a chair at the table and, grinning, straddled it. “I’ve towed her twice this month. But I get a pie each time she breaks down.”
“We’re going to get fat and broke, relying on Ms. Cloverly’s pie payment plan.”
“I don’t mind.” Mercer shrugged, his foot tapping against the floor. “So Callum, you here to find your lady love?”
“Mating pull. Yep.”
“Need any help?”
Elliot’s brow scrunched. “How are you going to help?”
Mercer’s shoulders lifted. “I don’t know. Open to suggestions.” His leg continued to tap. “Are you signing up for the Curusm?”
“Fuck no.”
Duncan and Mercer laughed.
“Callum has a lot of issues with our pack’s ways.”
“Who doesn’t?” Duncan grunted before leaning his head back against the sofa and closing his eyes.
“How are you going to find her?” The chair Mercer sat on started rocking. Callum studied the shifter, noting how he couldn’t seem to sit still.
“I caught her scent today, so it’s just a matter of time.”
“Let’s hope she’s not signed up for the run.”
Callum didn’t bother to debate it. If she’d signed up for the run, he’d have to talk her out of it.
“Sydney signed up,” Elliot said, staring absently at his beer bottle.
“She did what?” Mercer’s chair scraped along the ground, as it finally stopped moving.
Duncan opened his eyes. “Shit. Seriously?”
Elliot shrugged one massive shoulder. “She’s sick of waiting.”
“She’s not even thirty!” Callum objected.
“She turns thirty this year,” Mercer supplied. “Doesn’t she?”
“Thirty is pretty old for a female not to be mated,” Elliot replied. “In mating terms. A lot of them are mated by twenty. Maybe twenty-two.”
“Maybe around here.” Callum ran a hand through his hair, trying to wrap his head around his cousin Sydney running in that archaic event. Though he’d seen her today, it was hard not to remember her as the preteen, who collected stickers and liked sparkly nail polish.
Though his own sister was older now, and mated. Maybe he needed to lighten up.
No. Running naked down a hill waiting for whatever wolf shifter caught you first to claim you–just no.
“What if she doesn’t like the guy?”
“That’s the way it goes, I guess.” Duncan took a sip from his bottle.
“It’s fucking with Fate.”
“Fated mating is an outdated concept,” Duncan replied. “Or at least some people think so.”
“Not most people.” Not where he was from.
“Lots of shifters, male and female, travel here for it,” Elliot reminded Callum. “That speaks for itself.”
“Jonah is going to be disappointed,” Mercer piped up, a grin on his face.
Duncan laughed, but Elliot groaned.
“Jonah?” Callum wondered. “The kid from the garage?”
“Yeah,” Duncan confirmed. “He’s sweet on Sydney.”
“That’s an understatement,” Mercer corrected with a snort. “He’s written her poetry. Though he graduated last year, so he’s not a high school kid anymore.”
“He’s not even eighteen,” Elliot clearly disapproved.
Mercer stood up and paced the room. He opened the fridge, the cupboards, washed his hands, and put away a few dishes from the drying rack.
“Business going well?” Elliot asked while they all watched Mercer.
“Yep,” Duncan replied, his gaze tracking his brother. “How’s Rafe been?”
“Good.”
“Haven’t seen him in a while,” Duncan said. “Not since I did his brakes and oil.”
“He’s Rafe.”
Duncan didn’t reply. His eyes narrowed when Mercer bent to pull out a sponge from beneath the sink and wiped the clean table. “Dude, what the fuck?”
Looking up, Mercer paused. “What?”
Sitting forward on the sofa, Duncan stared at his brother. “What is with you lately?”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been bouncing off the walls. You can’t sit still anymore. What’s going on? Yesterday you cleaned the bathroom twice and re-organized the magazines like six times.”
Looking a little confused, Mercer sighed. “I don’t know. Something is going on with me. I can’t stop moving.” He scratched at his shoulder, his face pinching in discomfort. “And I’m itchy. My skin feels like it’s on fire or something. Maybe I need to see a doctor.”
Callum snorted. “That’s the mating pull.”
Everyone looked at him.
“What?” Mercer’s hand stopped. “No. No way.” He glanced at Duncan and then Elliot. “Not now. It’s got to be something else.” His fingers started moving again, this time scratching just beneath the collar of his shirt.
“I’ve been feeling that for months. It sucks.”
Mercer glared and shook his head. “No. That’s not it.”
It was pretty natural to deny the mating pull at first. Callum glanced at Elliot. He expected his cousin to share in his smirk at Mercer’s discomfort, but Elliot seemed solemn.
He was never going to understand the members of this pack.
The mating pull was often an opportunity for good-natured needling, but these guys looked like it was a death sentence.
Grabbing his beer, Mercer took a seat and made an effort to sit still. “What’s the plan for tonight?”
Elliot pulled at the label on his beer. “Maybe a run? Or cards or something?”
“Run might be good,” Mercer nodded a bit too eagerly.
Callum didn’t add to the conversation, but a run would be the best thing for Mercer. Something that allowed him to use up some of that energy. He probably didn’t realize it, but he’d already begun to tap his feet again.
“We could go run the course,” Elliot suggested, referencing his training obstacle course.
Callum hadn’t run it himself, but it was one of the few things he wanted to try before he left. It looked like a challenge.
Duncan groaned. “I’m so not in the mood for that. I’ll watch you suckers do that while I drink. It’s been a hell of a day.”
“You could stay in and read?” Elliot smirked.
Duncan chuckled. “Like I own a book.”
Mercer’s phone rang. “I’m sure you own a book,” he said as he pulled it from his pocket.
“Do magazines with big titties count?” Duncan’s lips curled wickedly.
“If it’s got words in it.” Mercer frowned down at his phone before glancing up. “Thatcher.”
The room went quiet as Mercer answered and paced once more. It was mostly a one-sided conversation, and very short. Less than a minute later, Mercer hung up and went to his locker for his jacket.
“He wants me to meet him at the lodge. I’ll catch up with you later.”
Duncan watched the door until it shut. “He’s in trouble, isn’t he?”
The words were so softly spoken, Callum wasn’t sure Duncan had meant to say them out loud.
The mating pull and a summons from Thatcher. Sydney’s announcement. The day seemed destined to end on a sour note.