CHAPTER THREE

Lily didn’t think they were going to answer her. They kept pushing food to her and refilling her water. Joking and laughing, and not at all at her expense. They were talking about mundane things like finding a Laundromat nearby, and whether or not they had enough products to sell at the local craft fair before moving on.

“What kind of crafts?” Lily asked in spite of herself and through a mouthful of food. Her two-minute deadline to eat a tortilla had come and gone. She really did need to do something about her husband, but slyness still seemed necessary as far as the women went.

Josefina counted off on her fingers. “Cerámica, escultura, vestidos tradicionales…”

“You made all of it?”

“Sí.” Josefina smiled in the way of a child who had been chosen to be first-served at the free ice cream table at a picnic.

“Drive up here,” Blanca said. “Three, four times a year. Sell all, go home.”

“You’re taking the money home to your families?”

“Puh.” Blanca waved off the notion and then gestured to the other ladies. “This all. Others come, others go.”

That was vague as hell, but Lily decided not to press. She didn’t think probing further would do her any good, anyway.

“Lily?” Lance shouted.

Lily’s smile quivered at the corners as she gestured for Blanca to continue.

“We save the money,” Blanca said in a stoic tone, “to keep looking.”

“Looking for what?”

Josefina gave the back of Lily’s neck a gentle tap. “La Dama.”

“La…Dama?” That anxiety that had prevented Lily from eating breakfast suddenly surged back and twisted a knot into her belly. Her heavy lunch sat like a gold brick in her gut. She knew a dama. That ancient goddess had been the one to scoop Lily up from a dusty roadside when her car had crapped out three summers ago. She’d been the one to make that scar on Lily’s neck. Certainly, they didn’t mean the very same one.

“Been looking,” Blanca said. “Generation after generation, hundreds of years.”

“Looking for her? Um. Why?” Lily tried to sound light and carefree about the topic, but that was another coincidence she simply couldn’t accept. La Dama was a shortening of one of Lola Perez’s many names. The native Mexica people had once referred to her in whispers as The Pretty Lady—La Bella Dama after the Spanish arrived in Central America. The few who’d heard of the mysterious goddess knew her to be as generous as she was ruthless. She watched over babies and women in childbirth and sometimes made abusers disappear. No one knew her true name anymore. She didn’t speak it and no longer courted a following.

As far as Lily knew, the inscrutable and private goddess didn’t want to be found. She lived a pretty normal life back in Maria…teleportation and odd psychic abilities aside.

“She make us what we are,” Blanca said, touching a hand to her heart. “After el terror en el barco.”

“I don’t understand. What ship? And really…” Lily sighed. “I’m not sure what you think that guy in the van is going to do, but you really need to let him out.”

“¿El perro?” Josefina spat.

Lily grimaced and muttered, “I guess you know what he is, then.”

“Do you?” Blanca asked. “Not average dog.”

“No, he’s definitely not the average dog on two legs, that’s for sure.” She sighed. “He’s a Coyote. Yes, I know that.”

“We rescue you. He dangerous.”

Yes, he is.

Lily snorted and then drew in a bracing breath.

Just not in the way you think.

“Well, maybe to some people, but look. I don’t need rescuing. You may not believe it, but the truth is that for the time being, that creature is my husband.” Lily pushed some beans around her plate with a remnant of her tortilla. “So. That’s that, I guess.”

The ladies were so silent that the cawing of birds down on the lake and the squeak of the van’s shocks from Lance’s struggling made an eerie accompaniment to the scene.

Then, all at once, the women resumed eating.

Seriously?

Lily scoffed with frustration. “Ladies, you have to let him out.” She counted at least two snorts and one murmured “Ridículo.” Oddly enough, Lily wasn’t feeling especially funny. “Listen, the truth is, we’re not on great terms, okay? But we drove here for a reason. We came to fetch an old lady and a little boy for the Coyote pack. It is important that we do that.”

“How you get mixed up with that?” Blanca asked. “You have La Dama’s touch, and you consort with dogs?”

Lance’s hunch about that scar seemed to ring truer and truer.

Lily suppressed the compulsion to put her hand over it. She didn’t want to bring added attention to the mark. “Where I’m from, the shifters have been at odds for decades. Longer, maybe. They’ve only recently stopped annoying the snot out of each other.”

Josefina narrowed her eyes at Lily and leaned in close. “And where are you from, chica? La Dama pass through there a menudo, huh? If you see, you know?”

Lily opened her mouth to confess, but something in her said that information was currency. She needed her secrets. She didn’t know what those women had planned or if they might turn out to be dangerous. She certainly wasn’t going to steer them toward Lola or Maria without having a chance to fully evaluate their motives. One shamefully reckless act per year was her absolute limit.

“Lily!” Lance shouted.

Lily fixed her posture, crossed her legs under the table, and pushed the rest of her tortilla into her mouth. “How long have you been on the road?”

Josefina’s sideward stare had the chastening effect she likely intended, but Lily dug deep and found the fortitude to keep her mouth shut.

“Five weeks,” Blanca said after an uncomfortable minute of silence. “We stay until we sell all.”

“And you live in the van?” Lily gestured to it. “All of you and the dog?”

The dog, who’d been patiently eying the food on the grill, bounded over and stuck his head between Josefina and Lily.

“French Fry.” Estela rubbed the dog’s head with more than a little bit of affection. “Call him Frenchy.”

“You named the dog French Fry?”

“Nayeli name him,” Estela said, smirking.

Nayeli was still at the grill with her back turned, but Lily could make out the slight don’t-talk-about-me shake of the shy young woman’s head. She seemed to be the sort who hated attention. Lily’s cousin Hank was kind of like that.

“Funny name for a Xolo,” Lily said. “But I guess I’ve heard pet names that are just as delicious. I know a couple of witches who named their familiars Pumpkin Pie and Candy Corn.”

“You know witches?” Blanca asked, wide-eyed.

“Oh, sure. I know a little bit of everyone. Much to my father’s chagrin, I’m heavily networked will all sorts of supernatural freaks.” She scoffed. “That’s what he calls them. As you can probably guess, he’s got a little bit of a bias.”

“¿Por qué?” Estela asked.

Lily shrugged so hard that Martha woke in a startle, flailing her pudgy arms and legs. Instinctively, Lily held her tighter, because that always made her feel better when she was feeling wild and out of sorts. It’d been a long time since she’d trusted anyone to hold her that way, though.

She’d shrugged, but the truth was that she did know why. Her father was skeptical of shifters and other paranormal people because his sister had disobeyed their parents and married one, then to pour salt into the wound went on to have four Cougar children. She’d made no apologies.

Lily’s father and Aunt Glenda had gone at least ten years without speaking after the elopement. It wasn’t until Belle was old enough to start elementary school and Lily saw her there every day that he’d had to put some bygones aside. There’d been no good reason to keep Lily away from her cousins, especially since she had no one else in town. Except for Aunt Glenda, the rest of the Baxter family had given up ranching and left Maria altogether. So, for years, it was just Lily and her high-strung, ever-paranoid father who meant well, but executed his opinions with a heavy hand.

He was so scared of his Cougar nephews and niece. He avoided them at any cost, and no one at the ranch ever brought up the estrangement. When Lily had told Belle that she was moving to the Double B to help her run the place, there were a few Foye eyebrows raised, but nobody stated the obvious: “Your father is going to flip.”

She’d appreciated that.

He did flip.

“They good witches?” Blanca asked, pulling Lily out of her mental meanderings.

“Oh, yeah. They’re sweethearts. Always the first to help out.”

“Lily!” The van rocked with yet another of Lance’s forceful escape efforts.

Josefina and Estela got to their feet and so did Lily, worried they might do something rash to shut him up.

“What are you planning to do with him?” she asked as she followed at their heels. “You need to let him go.”

“We let him go, he gonna be a devil,” Josefina said. “All the same, Coyotes.” She sounded like she was speaking from experience.

Hmm.

“He won’t,” Lily pleaded. “I swear, I’ll make sure of it.”

Both ladies made a “Puh” sound of incredulity as they approached the van door.

“I promise, he won’t.” Lily got around them and put her back to the side of the van, blocking them from opening it and shamelessly using Martha as an entirely too cute shield. “Just let me talk to him. ¿Está bien? We’ll figure something out. If you’re worried about him raising hell, I get it. We’re all here to accomplish things, and we can’t do that if he’s tied up in your van. People are going to hear him, and then what? We’ll have a bunch of cops swarming around. We don’t need that.”

“Tie him up in your trailer, then,” Estela said equably, pointing her chin toward the Winnebago.

Lily couldn’t dare refuse. She didn’t think Lance would consider that a good compromise, but it was somewhere to start. He could yell at her about it from the privacy of the Winnie.

She dragged her tongue across her lips and lifted her chin, mirroring Estela’s confident posturing. “Okay, we’ll do that.” The ladies tried to nudge her aside, but Lily held firm. She still had one more concession to demand. “But I get to tie him up next.”

*

Lance was about to thumb his nose at discretion and do whatever he had to to get out of those bindings when the van’s door opened.

Lily said in a whispered rush before he could get a word out, “They’re moving you. Don’t put up a fight, okay?”

“Are you kidding me right now?” He flinched away from the hot surge of Cat energy invading his space. There were at least two of them there. That was all he could tell with that cover over his head. Two shifters, he could probably take in a fair fight, but if that entire posse of harpies went at him all at once, he’d be a dead dog. He may have naturally had more strength, but even female Cats could undo any advantage he might have had with agility and speed.

“You just have to accept it,” Lily said.

Someone yanked the hood off his head and now that he had his enemies in sight, the part of him that was animal railed from offense. He wanted to take a bite out of both of the sneering strangers, but there was too much traffic going around that hill. That was why he hadn’t immediately tried to shift into his animal form after they’d tied him up. Shifters did all they could to keep their existence protected from the general public. He wasn’t going to risk exposing them if there was any other feasible option to solve his problems. He wasn’t sure yet if there was another way, but at least he had Lily in his sights and as far as he could tell, she hadn’t been harmed. The last damn thing he needed was to catch shit from her cousins about getting her tangled up in the mess. The Coyotes and Cougars back in Maria may have had a truce, but it was a nascent one, and Lance was certain that the Foyes would break it over any insult to their family.

As one of the women worked at the cording, Lily stood just outside the van, wringing her hands. “You need to keep your hands behind your back,” she said.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Just do it. We’re going to sort this out. Just trust the process.”

“Easy to say when you’re not the one tied up.”

“No, it’s easy to say because I’m not a shapeshifter who’s hardwired to be leery of other groups. I think this situation is escalating way too fast, but I’m willing to compromise.”

Again, that was easy for her to say.

The lady in the polka-dotted skirt grunted and gave his arm a yank.

He didn’t budge, of course, because she hadn’t asked nicely. No one ever used manners anymore. She yanked it again.

“Am I supposed to be going somewhere?” he asked blithely. “Like over that cliff, maybe?” He leaned around the Cat for a better look at Lily. “That’d be a pretty easy way for you to resolve our marital dissolution.”

Lily pressed her lips tightly together and pink flooded her cheeks. She looked like an evil fashion doll with that perfect skin, that bobbing bun of curls piled high atop her head, and those uncivil hazel eyes.

Good. So now we’re both angry. Matching set.

“For all I know, you set this up, or you got one of your cousins to do it,” he said. “Which one? Probably Belle. Cougar females have a knack for that kind of pettiness. I don’t think Mason, Hank, or Sean have the brains for it.”

Lily crossed her arms and her lips pressed even tighter. They practically disappeared. That was a hard feat, given that her lips had that whole “bee stung” thing going on. She sure as shit hadn’t gotten those from her father. That dude suffered from a severe case of Muppet-mouth.

“I don’t see you denying it,” he taunted. “Must be true.”

Polka Dot tugged his arm again.

Lance kept his ass glued to that chair. He knew better.

“If you want to sit in this van,” Lily said in a low, unsettling murmur, “that’s fine. Sit here. I’ll fetch your Coyotes and will somehow get them home. I’ll explain to your alpha you’ll be indisposed for the foreseeable future because you’re an unyielding barbarian and started an unnecessary fracas with a bunch of visiting shifters. I don’t think that’s going to go over well. Do you?”

“I don’t like being threatened, Lily.”

“That actually sounded like a threat. Are you threatening me, Lance?” She fidgeted her zipper’s pull and ground her teeth for a few beats. “Because I’ve got to tell you, I’m not in the mood.”

“Meaning what? That you’ll just leave me here and personally put the hood back over my head?”

She shrugged. “Sure. I’m tired of wasting my energy on people who don’t deserve it.”

“I never asked for your energy.”

“Yes, well, unfortunately, you got some anyway. I can’t reclaim my time, but I can eliminate bullshit from my life.”

“So, you’re calling me bullshit, now?”

She opened her mouth again, closed it, and then gave him a side-eyed look he hadn’t seen the likes of since he’d shown up for his first day of flight school in sweatpants and a Patriots hat. It was probably the Patriots hat that had set those instructors off. Some people were just so closed-minded.

She pulled in another breath so deep that it made her spine go rigid, and dropped her hand from the zipper. “We’re moving you to your Winnie. They thought you’d be more comfortable there.”

“Yeah, and what’d you think?”

“I think with the way you’re behaving right now, they’re justified in being a bit tetchy. Way to go, being that Coyote stereotype, guy.”

“I always try to put on a good performance for my devoted fans.” He smiled, not caring if he was showing a little fang, but obviously, those Cats did. The pitch frequency of their hisses made his bones ache.

“Stay or go, Lance.” Lily threw up her hands. “I’m doing what I can to advocate for you, and your instinct is to sabotage my efforts?”

“No, shortcake, my instinct is for self-preservation like any other perfectly rational Coyote. Obviously, you have no problems at all with trusting strangers, but when my gut’s telling me nope, I fucking nope vigorously. You’re not sensing what I am. You’re not adequately gauging the threat level of the situation.”

Her eyes narrowed to slits. “Oh, so, because I’m not a Coyote, my brain is therefore second-tier?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“And I also didn’t call you ‘bullshit.’” It was her turn to smile, and there wasn’t an iota of warmth in that curve of her mouth. Usually, her smile was the most captivating thing about her. She could probably pull attention from the other side of a ballroom, even when she wasn’t looking directly at him.

He didn’t think she’d ever smiled directly at him. At least, not while sober.

He growled softly at the affront to his ego.

“Trust me. Don’t trust me,” Lily said. “That’s up to you. Your choice is to be in their space or yours. You make the decision.”

“You want me to negotiate with terrorists.”

She shook her head. “There’s no negotiation. Do it or don’t. Save the arguing for when you’re on your own turf.”

The suggestion was almost reasonable, and the truth was, he would be more comfortable in his fully-equipped trailer than in the back of a van that had been stuffed full of musty clothing and handcrafted stuff. It made sense that the women had set up tents under the picnic shelter. They wouldn’t have had anywhere to sleep otherwise.

“Fine,” he breathed and yanked his arm away as Polka Dot reached for him. “I’m going to move on my own volition. Follow me if you need to, just don’t touch me.”

“Como si yo quisiera!” she sang.

“What’d you just say to me?” He didn’t like that smug look on Polka Dot’s face. That was an “I just put a hex on your intestines” face.

“Lance.” Lily scrubbed a hand down her face. “Just move.”

He clamped his teeth and got moving. Squinting from the bright sun’s assault on his eyes, he squeezed sideways between the two Cats and his wife and tromped toward his truck like it’d been his idea in the first place. As he moved, he took in the view of the other three women leering hostilely at him as they cleaned up from their lunch.

That shady-looking dog was over there, too, staring at Lance like he was waiting for him to stop breathing long enough to make him a meal.

“Don’t hold your breath, you little flea-bitten bastard,” Lance stood at the side of the camper and gestured to the door when Lily caught up to him. “Can I reach into my pocket to get my keys so I can open the door, or will that cause me to get pounced on again?”

“Saca tus llaves,” Polka Dot said.

“What’d you say to me?”

Lily groaned and reached into his pocket without warning. She found the keys and also the very end of something else that was occasionally useful.

She dropped the keys on the ground with a yelp. He snorted with amusement, then whispered, “You didn’t notice that I hang to the right, shortcake?”

“Do you have to be such an ass?” She snatched the keys off the ground and riffled through them.

“I am what I am.” He pointed to the key with the blue rubber topper. “That one.”

She unlocked and opened the door, and pointed to the inside. “Have a seat.”

Lance opted to keep his mouth shut as he ducked his head, climbed the step, and sidled to the kitchenette.

She followed him with the skein of rope. One of the Cats lingered in the doorway, watching.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked.

She nudged him to sit. “No. That was the deal. It’s just until they know you’re not going to give them problems. I don’t know why, but I tried to stick up for you.” She threaded the rope through the back of the seat and tied his wrists.

Badly.

“I don’t know why I bothered,” she said and gave the rope a final loop through the circle. “You think everything I do is foolish, anyway. Maybe I should have left you to fend for yourself.”

“I think you’re waiting for a thank-you, but I can’t be sure,” he said. He wriggled his fingers and hands discreetly behind him since Lily was blocking the Cat’s clear view of the chair. He could pull one whole hand out without even stretching the rope.

The woman worked on a ranch, and competently, according to those lovesick asshole ranch hands who spent their wasting hours at the town bar. She had to know how to tie knots.

“I don’t expect a thank-you from you,” she said. “I don’t expect anything from you. I think we established that a few weeks ago.”

He felt his cheeks tighten into a grimace.

So much for keeping a straight face.

They’d established a lot of things that night a few weeks ago. They’d discussed that there wasn’t going to be a baby. That it was probably for the best, with circumstances being what they were. And that there was no reason for them to be married.

He knew the odds, and the same thing would likely happen again and again if they were foolish enough to try to be a couple. He was a Coyote. She wasn’t. As far as he knew, fertility was a tricky enough thing for shifters without adding the variable of mixing species to the mix. He’d seen the troubles of his mother, a woman whose Coyote legacy stretched back a hundred and fifty years. She was built to bear Coyote children, but she only got one and so many heartbreaking false starts that she’d stopped counting.

Having children wasn’t so important to him that he’d put a woman through that, and certainly not a human one. He didn’t know if he’d be able to live with the guilt if something worse happened. The guilt was bad enough already.

Lily dropped his keys onto the counter and then leaned against it. “Where’s your phone? Need it in case Regina calls.”

“More likely Blue or Kenny’ll call, and I don’t know. The ladies took it when they tied me up.”

“I’ll get it.”

She stared at him for a moment as though she had something more to say or she was waiting for him to speak up, but he didn’t know what to add. Nothing seemed to matter.

She shook her head and left, leaving the door open.

He tipped his head back on the seat, slouched in resignation, and then remembered the ropes.

As he loosened his hands he considered his options.

Free or not, he didn’t think he had so many—not with those five odd cats probably waiting by the door.