Mick clutched the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip and tried to think up as many words as possible to summarize what had just happened. Debacle, disaster, fuckup, mistake, snafu, and (his personal favorite) cluster fuck. Epic cluster fuck. Any one of them would do to describe the monumentally wrong decision he had made in kissing Renny Landry.
Hot. Erotic. Delicious. Arousing. Mine, his wolf countered.
Mick seriously considered what effect on his human half it would have if he just had the Goddess-damned animal neutered. The vet claimed it was just a simple snip.
“Your mate was Geoffrey’s sister.”
Her quiet voice stroked over him like an electric current, making all the hairs on his neck stand on end. She spoke softly, but not hesitantly. Respectful, but not afraid. His wolf liked that.
“Half sister,” he bit out. Beth hadn’t always made the distinction, but Mick had. Did. They might have shared their coyote father, but Beth had taken after her mother in all the ways that mattered. She’d inherited her humor and compassion and gentle strength from her wolf side.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
The simple statement rang with sincerity and clenched around his heart like a fist. He was sorry, too, even after all these years. Beth had been part of him, and her loss had left him with an empty, aching hole inside. One his wolf thought this woman could fill.
Mick didn’t know if he wanted her to.
And what did that make him? a voice in his head demanded. Was he trying to martyr himself to the loss? He had expected to die soon after he’d taken his vengeance on Abraham Garry, had thought that the need to avenge Beth’s murder had been the other reason he hadn’t followed her immediately into the darkness. But eight years later, time kept passing and Mick kept breathing. He’d never been able to figure out why.
Her, his wolf insisted.
He suppressed a snort. As if the wolf could have known they had another mate out there somewhere and had just been waiting for her to come along. Yeah, right. No one could have expected that to happen, because wolves didn’t mate a second time. It just didn’t happen.
He could feel Renny’s eyes on him. She had turned a little in her seat, her shoulders pressed against the passenger door as she watched him. Tension stretched between them, some his, some hers. He could almost feel her chewing on something, some thought she wanted to voice, but she couldn’t quite get the right grip on it, so she kept turning it over and over in her mind.
When he couldn’t take it anymore, he snapped, “Go ahead. Ask.”
“Why didn’t you stay?”
The question surprised him. He’d expected the one he usually got, if people managed to dig up the story of his past. Most of them immediately wanted to know the gory details. Had his grandfather really ordered his wife’s death? Had Mick really torn out the old man’s throat and howled in triumph? Had he killed seven of the alpha’s enforcers just to get to him? Had he fought like the crazed monster the anti-Other organizations tried to say wolf shifters really were?
This woman asked none of that. Instead, she wanted to know why he hadn’t taken over the pack and the territory that he’d won in battle.
“Why the hell would I?” he asked gruffly as he tried to hold back the tide of memories. “That place had nothing for me but pain and bad memories. I killed Abraham because he was an evil, corrupt, vicious old fuck. He had my mate murdered because he was a bigot who couldn’t stand the idea that his great-grandkids might not be pure wolf. It was never a challenge for his position. I didn’t want his pack. The whole thing was rotten, just like him.”
Renny thought back on the people of Sawmill, the ones who had lived in fear under the ruthless tyranny of Geoffrey Hilliard’s rule. They hadn’t seemed inherently rotten to her. They’d been regular people, some good, some bad, and some just too scared to do anything but follow along where their alpha led them.
“If that’s true, I can promise you they’re being punished,” she finally said. “Living under the coyote pack hasn’t been easy for them.”
“Good.”
The word was spoken calmly, evenly, and without emotion. It made Renny frown. If he’d sounded pleased at the thought of others suffering, she thought she might have felt sick. She had no desire to mate with a man who could take pleasure in others’ pain. She also wouldn’t have liked it if he sounded bitter, because that would mean he was still living in the past, that he couldn’t let go of the things he’d lost. A mating between them couldn’t survive that.
But she didn’t know what to make of the flat, matter-of-fact tone he’d used. It could mean anything. How was she supposed to interpret the emotions behind a statement that sounded so lacking in emotion?
How was she supposed to know what he was feeling?
Her wolf whined and began pacing.
Renny faced forward and stared out the windshield. If she’d needed any proof that this mating was doomed from the start, she supposed she had it now. Any man who could close himself off to his feelings about what had to be the most painful experience of his life couldn’t possibly open himself up to the intimacy of a true mate bond. Every word he spoke, every action he’d taken since they’d met, told Renny that Mick Fischer didn’t want to mate with her. She would need to accept that and move on.
Her wolf filled her head with images of the kiss, replaying the sensations in her mind until her thighs clenched and she had to work to calm her breathing. She felt herself dampen and prayed the man beside her wouldn’t need to take a deep breath. There was no way he’d miss the scent of her arousal in such a confined space. How humiliating.
Renny beat back the memories. Okay, so there’d been one action to demonstrate he at least felt a similar instinctive animal attraction to her as she did to him. But one kiss and an expression of lust did not a mating make. Did she really want to spend the rest of her life with a man who wanted her but resented the fact that he did?
No, thank you.
So, where did that leave her? At the moment, in a truck with a man who didn’t want her, in a new place surrounded by people she didn’t know. That counted as normal for her after the past few months. She’d learned that the key to going on was just to go, to do what needed to be done without angsting over it. Renny could take care of herself, so that was exactly what she’d do, and if the wolf who was meant to be her mate refused to acknowledge their connection, so be it. She’d live.
Hell, give her a little time and a decent chance to build a new life for herself, and she’d damned well thrive. Just see if she didn’t.
“I get that,” she said, finally filling the silence that had enveloped the truck’s cab. “And I guess that means I owe you an apology for bringing this all back into your life. Of course, I didn’t mean to, since I didn’t know you or that you would be living here in Alpha when I headed this way, but still. I didn’t intend to involve you in my business, or to dig up your past. If you’ll just drop me off at the garage, I’ll take things from here. You can step back again, and I’ll do my best to keep the coyotes away from you.”
She felt the weight of his gaze on her and turned to find him staring at her as if she’d lost her mind. Anger mingled with disbelief in his expression. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I beg your pardon?”
Mick snorted and looked back at the road. “Sweetheart, you’re going straight to the proper authorities so we can report Hilliard’s latest threats and arrange protection for you. Then you’re going to stay where we put you while we hunt down the enforcers who came after you last night and eliminate them as a threat.”
Renny listened, shocked by the matter-of-fact recitation and kind of offended. Even her wolf bristled at the implication that not only were they expected to obey a decree without so much as having been asked their opinion, but she would have no active role in dealing with her own problems.
That wasn’t why she’d run to Alpha. She’d needed a safe place to regroup, and Others around her who could defend themselves against shape-shifters so she wouldn’t have to wallow in the guilt of putting humans at risk. She hadn’t been some kind of damsel in distress looking for big, strong men to protect her. Screw that.
“Um, not so much.” She straightened her spine. See? She really did have one! “I’m grateful for the way you stepped in last night and dealt with Bryce and the others while I was injured, but I don’t need bodyguards. I especially don’t need to involve the entire sheriff’s department in my problems. They already have a job to do. I can deal with Geoffrey.”
Mick took a corner faster than was strictly necessary, sending her shoulder thumping against the truck door. “How?” he demanded. “So far, your idea of dealing seems to have consisted of running away and hoping no one noticed.”
Anger flooded her. “Hey, you haven’t been in my shoes, buddy, so—”
“You’re right, I haven’t, but I’ve dealt with bullies before, ones way more dangerous than Hilliard, and I know the only way to stop one is to confront him. Zeke and the others can make sure you’re safe while I do.”
“Why should you bother?” she shot back with a glare. “You’ve gone out of your way so far to make me feel like nothing more than a nuisance to you, so why the hell would you suddenly care about my problems enough to solve them for me? I’d think you would leap at the opportunity I’m giving you to walk away and not look back.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw, and his fingers tightened on the steering wheel until it creaked in protest. If he didn’t let up, the thing was going to bend under the pressure like something out of an Incredible Hulk comic.
Renny wasn’t even sure what she wanted him to say. Which answer would she rather hear? That he was a cold, remote bastard who didn’t care if a subordinate wolf in his territory got kidnapped, raped, and killed by any rogue who happened along? Or that he knew she was his mate, and that gave him both the right and the responsibility to keep her safe?
Okay, so her wolf cast a vote for door number two, but this wasn’t a democracy. Renny’s human mind ran the show, not her animal instincts, and it said that both options cast her in the role of victim, and she was damned sick of playing the part.
She made a noise of disgust. “You know what? Forget I said anything. About anything. Let’s just get to town, and then you can do what you need to do, and I can do what I need to do.” Hopefully, on opposite ends of Main Street.
As if on cue, Mick braked and drew the truck to a stop in an angled spot at the curb. Renny blinked and looked around. A discreet wooden sign in the yard of a sprawling Victorian mansion proclaimed that the building housed the offices of the City of Alpha, Washington (population 17,860). A quick glance at the surrounding area showed a bustling, tree-lined downtown area that boasted a mix of historic and newer buildings housing mostly businesses and professional offices. Apparently, they’d already gotten to town.
The realization knocked some of the wind from Renny’s sails. It looked like she’d need to start making good on her speeches right away.
She took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. “Well, I guess this is it, then.” She mustered a smile and wondered vaguely if it looked half as fake as it felt. “Thanks for your help. Really. I appreciate it. I’ll … um, I’ll see you around.”
Fingers shot out and closed around her wrist like an iron manacle, preventing her from going anywhere. Surprised, she shot her gaze to Mick’s face. She couldn’t read his expression, or at least, it made no sense to her. He looked angry and impatient and …
Possessive?
“Oh, you’ll be seeing lots of me, sweetheart,” he growled, the tone rough and silky at the same time. “In fact, you’ll be seeing so much of me, you’ll forget to stop when you close your eyes at night. Geoffrey Hilliard isn’t going to lay one fucking finger on you, and I intend to be the one who makes sure of it.”
It felt as though a war council had convened in John Jaeger’s pleasant, light-filled office. In reality, it was just a small group of men—the mayor, the deputy, and the mercurial alpha wolf—and one lone woman. A woman who was about to start picking the men off, one by stubborn, chauvinistic one.
“No.” She repeated the word for the nine-gizillionth time in the last ten minutes and got the same reaction she’d received with every other utterance—stony stares, crossed arms, and blatantly intimidating postures. Seriously, they looked like a trio of actors trying to outdo one another on an audition for Bad Cop, Worse Cop. If it weren’t her life they were trying to run, Renny would have laughed.
Instead, she just wanted to scream.
“Ms. Landry,” Jaeger began again, using what she had already identified as his conciliatory politician’s voice, “it’s for your own protection.”
“I told you to call me Renny, and I told you to drop the bullshit.” She stood facing the men, glad she’d refused to sit in the chair she’d been offered. Half a dozen times. Even on her feet, they towered over her. If she’d been sitting, she’d have felt like an ant at a giant’s family reunion. “It’s not your job to protect me. None of you. I may have brought my issues with me to Alpha, but I always planned to deal with them on my own.”
“You can’t,” Zeke said bluntly. “You’re one woman against an obsessed man and his five closest buddies. You’re also a victim of stalking, which is a crime. As a deputy in the Alpha Sheriff’s Department, it literally is my job to protect you, and my boss expects me to do my job.”
She glared at him. “Then I’ll just have to explain to your boss.”
“My boss just left on a two-week vacation.”
Renny gritted her teeth. “Okay, how about his boss?”
“That would be me,” Jaeger said, the touch of smug in his voice making her want to knee him in the junk. If only she had longer legs. “The sheriff is technically an employee of the city, so as mayor, he reports to me. And I say it’s the best arrangement for everyone.”
“And it really doesn’t matter how I feel about it?”
“Sure, it matters, but it doesn’t outweigh the risk of you living on your own while this coyote is still out to get you.” Jaeger shrugged. “In a perfect world, you’d be safe and happy, but at the moment, I’m willing to settle for you just being safe.”
Mick’s nod snapped like a judge’s gavel. “You’ll stay with me at least until we round up Hilliard’s minions. Once Zeke has them in custody, we can reassess if Hilliard himself is a genuine threat, or if he’ll come to his senses and leave you alone once he can see you’re protected.”
By which point, Renny would have already lost her mind from the stress of living under guard with a mate who didn’t want her and who reacted to the most amazing kiss of her life by shoving her away and then pretending that it had never happened.
Yippee.
She shook her head and prayed for strength. “There’s got to be another option. I’m not an idiot, and I realize that living alone would be riskier for me than sharing a place with someone else, but I don’t want to feel like some kind of prisoner. I came here to start a new life, and I won’t put that on hold just to make you more comfortable. I’ll find someplace else to stay, somewhere with a roommate or something.”
“You can stay with me.”
Renny turned at the sound of a new voice. Molly Buchanan stood in the doorway of the mayor’s office with her hand still on the knob. She glanced from face to face, taking in the expressions of the whole group before she raised her eyebrow and strode into the room to stand beside Renny.
“My apartment has two bedrooms, and I like Renny,” the blond woman said, daring the men to argue with her. “I’d be happy to have her stay with me until she gets on her feet. I’m sure once she finds a job and gets comfortable in town, she’ll want her own place, but for now, I’ve got the room. It’ll be fun. We can give each other facials and talk about boys all night.”
Molly winked at her, and Renny felt a wave of relief. “That would be—”
“Out of the question,” Zeke snapped, glaring at his sister. “This isn’t about Renny being new in town. It’s about the fact that she has a dangerous stalker—or half a dozen of them, if you count Hilliard’s little brute squad. She needs to stay someplace where she’ll be protected, not having slumber parties. And you don’t need to put yourself at risk if she gets attacked again.”
When Molly grinned at her brother, the expression looked sharp, as did the fangs that Renny could see had appeared in her mouth. “Fuck you, Ezekial. The day I can’t take care of myself is the day I let you tell me who I can date. I can handle a few coyotes, and when she’s not injured and on the run, I’m sure Renny can, too. We’ll protect each other, and you boys won’t need to worry your handsome little heads over us.”
“Molly, you live in a converted house with three other apartments.” Zeke tried a different argument, but Renny could hear the tension behind his reasonable tone of voice. “Do you really want to put your neighbors at risk if the coyotes attack?”
“At risk?” Molly snorted. “My neighbors are one of your co-workers at the sheriff’s department and his panther mate, a pair of cantankerous badger shifters, and Mrs. Pendergast, whose wooden ruler has tanned more hides in the back room of her little candy store than an entire convent full of Catholic nuns. My neighbors can take care of themselves, Zeke, and you know it.”
Renny hadn’t failed to notice that Mick had remained silent during the argument, his gaze fixed on her and his customary scowl fixed on his face. He didn’t look any happier about the prospect of having her for a roommate than she was, but he’d been the one to suggest she stay at his house. Why? Did he like seeing her suffer?
“Besides,” Molly continued, “all those people just make it harder for someone to sneak up on us. Mick lives out in the woods. His place would be a whole lot easier to get to without attracting notice, and it would take help a lot longer to reach it if something bad did happen. I live two blocks from your office, which is filled with law enforcement–trained shifters. Most of the deputies could hear something happen at my place before I could even dial 911.”
Jaeger pursed his lips and nodded. “She does have a point there.”
Zeke skewered the other man with a glare. “Two young women living alone are still more vulnerable than a woman living with an alpha shifter experienced in combat.”
“And anyone living surrounded by nosy, sharp-sensed shifters is less vulnerable than someone living out in the woods,” Molly snapped back, hands on her hips. “Or haven’t you ever seen a horror movie? Hell, haven’t you ever read one of his books?” She stabbed a finger in Mick’s direction but continued to direct her anger at her brother.
It took Renny a second to understand the reference. Mick wrote books? He was a writer? Wow, that was so not the profession she would have guessed for him, but she supposed male underwear model would have been too out of character. Still, he looked more like a tattoo artist than a glasses-wearing, metaphor-molding wordsmith. His own ink proclaimed his appreciation of art, and she could imagine his hands holding a needle and coloring the story of pain and beauty into someone’s flesh.
Color.
Art.
Books.
Mick Fischer.
Mick Kennedy Fischer.
Renny felt her eyes practically bug out of her head. Holy shit, was he M. K. Fischer, the graphic novelist? Was that what Molly was referring to?
Her mental card catalog flipped to the entry for the most renowned master of a genre that had been dismissed as “comic book stuff” twenty years ago. M. K. Fischer was widely regarded as the most influential writer of graphic novels in the world, and unlike most in the genre, he did both the art and storytelling for his work, combining his own words with a sharp-edged, gritty style of drawing that had garnered praise and awards from around the globe. His current and most famous series, Hounds of Hell, had set sales records with its breathtaking art and brutal story lines about a group of vigilante werewolves who dispensed justice to the rogues and bad seeds of the shifter world.
Others appreciated the quality of the drawing and the creativity of the storytelling. To them, reading Hounds of Hell was like a human reading a Superman comic—it let them vicariously experience larger-than-life versions of themselves doing the things their own laws and customs kept them from doing. At the same time, humans saw the series as a safe way to peek into the hidden world of the lupine shifters. It fed their thirst for violence and played into their long-held beliefs about werewolves as monsters, while at the same time it conveyed the message that shifters used their incredible strength and speed only against one another, and only when one of their kind had gone rogue or broken the laws of their people.
Everyone had read Hounds of Hell, and everyone knew, or thought they knew, about its famously private and reclusive creator. He was practically a household name.
Holy shit. M. K. Fischer was destined to be her mate. Her. Renny Landry. Ordinary, everyday librarian, whose one claim to fame consisted of having caught the attention of a coyote with obsessive delusions. How was that even possible?
While her head still spun with the revelation, brother and sister continued to argue over the relative safety of city versus country living. It took Jaeger stepping between them to temporarily silence them both.
“Maybe we should ask Renny what she thinks. After all, she’s the one who will have to live with the decision. No pun intended.” He looked at her and made a gesture of encouragement. “Well? Do you have a preference for roommates?”
It took a minute to wrestle her wolf into submission so that it couldn’t cast its vote by pouncing on top of Mick in full view of the others. Reason, she reminded herself. She would be ruled by reason, not by her raging hormones.
She considered the possibility of living with Molly Buchanan. Sure, they’d only met the day before, but Renny liked the lioness shifter. She was smart and competent and funny, and she’d treated Renny with nothing but generosity and kindness. From the first, Renny had felt comfortable around the other woman, and in fact, she’d already entertained a couple of stray hopes that they could end up being good friends.
So, what did she think of the idea? It countered all the men’s objections to her living alone, because she wouldn’t be. She’d have someone else to keep an eye out for Geoffrey’s minions, someone capable of defending herself against a coyote shifter, but she wouldn’t have to spend every single day surrounded by the sight and scent of a mate who rejected her at every turn. It was perfect. It might actually keep her sane.
Zeke continued to scowl at his sister, a look seconded by Mick, but Renny ignored them. This was her life up in the air, and she was tired of not having one. It was time she started to live the way she meant to go on, and that did not include pining after a mate who didn’t want her.
She lifted her hand to her cheek and smiled. “I think my skin has been feeling a little dry and rough lately.…”
Molly laughed. “I have just the thing. Honey and yogurt. You’ll thank me later.”