Chapter 17

With the power knocked out from the storm, it was as dark in her mother’s shop as it was outside, but Triana barely noticed. She was simply too exhausted, physically and mentally, to care by the time they finally got home. She wasn’t sure what she thought about having Remy and his SWAT teammates there, even if they had saved her life and her mother’s. She felt horrible for even thinking like that, but she was so confused by everything she’d seen and needed time to figure it all out.

Not that how she felt seemed to matter at the moment, since not only had Remy refused to leave them on their own, but her mother had also firmly stated she wouldn’t stand for any of the men driving back to their hotel at that time of night, not with the way the wind and rain was kicking up right then.

So the guys stayed downstairs in the shop, making sure the windows weren’t going to blow in and water wasn’t going to come rushing under the door, while Triana went upstairs with her mother, hoping to get her head around everything.

She sat at the kitchen table while her mom bustled around the kitchen, heating up soup on the gas stove and getting all the flashlights and emergency lamps out. Triana had no idea how her mother did it. The events at Lee’s house had drained her like a battery. She couldn’t even put in the effort to change out of her wet clothes.

Half of her exhaustion came from all the questions the police had asked her after the shooting had stopped. Triana was a little surprised the cops had even shown up, considering the storm was so bad, but she supposed a shoot-out involving automatic weapons didn’t happen every day in Kenner, so police, detectives, and politicians had come out of the woodwork.

Following her mother’s suggestions, she’d kept her statements brief and vague. Quinn had lured her to a warehouse in the Marigny by saying he had information relating to her father’s murder. When she’d gotten there, she’d seen Quinn shoot another man; then, Quinn had knocked her unconscious and taken her to Lee’s home. Lee and Quinn had confessed to arranging the murder of her father because he refused to sell drugs through his club. Lee had lured her mother to his home to clean up any loose ends; then, the SWAT officers had stormed the place and rescued her.

She stayed away from any mention of werewolves or questions that veered outside the boundaries of her narrow story line. Of course, those were the questions the Kenner PD were most interested in. Why had Quinn told her about her father’s murder? Why had a team from New Orleans and Dallas SWAT come to her rescue? Where were Lee and Quinn now? Why were the men in custody claiming they’d been attacked by glowing-eyed monsters?

Triana’s answer to those questions and all the others just as impossible to explain was a plain and simple “I don’t know.”

She didn’t realize she’d been sitting at the table that long, but the next thing Triana knew, her mother set a big bowl of steaming soup in front of her, with a ham and cheese sandwich on the side. She didn’t feel like eating anything, but her mom shoved the bowl toward her and pointed at it.

“Eat.”

Her mother set a battery-powered lamp on the table between them, then sat across from her and began eating. “I’m guessing you have a lot of questions about everything you learned and saw today.”

Triana dipped her spoon in her soup, then took her time nibbling on her sandwich as she tried to figure out where to start. It wasn’t like she had to worry that her mother hadn’t seen what Remy and the others were. According to the guards at the front who’d been arrested, the SWAT cops had tackled cars and thrown men through the air like they were horseshoes.

“Lee and Quinn said some really crazy stuff about Dad,” she finally said. “I thought they were off their rockers, but then I saw…things…inside the house when Remy and his friends came to get me. Things I can’t explain.”

Her mother set down her sandwich and regarded Triana for a moment. “Finding out werewolves are real can be a shock for most people.”

Triana wanted to tell her that she was talking crazy, that werewolves weren’t real, that there was some other explanation. But she knew the time for doubt was over. Even though she was a scientist who liked her feet firmly planted in fact, she knew what she’d seen.

“So Dad was a werewolf?”

Triana couldn’t believe those words had just come out of her mouth. If anyone at the crime lab back in Houston heard her, they’d have tied her up in her own lab coat.

Her mother gave her a small smile. “Yes. In fact, it’s how we met.”

Triana couldn’t even begin to make sense of that statement, but since she’d already climbed fully aboard the crazy train, she figured she might as well find a seat and get comfortable.

“What did his being a werewolf have to do with you guys getting together?”

“You remember that your grandma ran the shop before you were born, right?” her mother asked. At Triana’s nod, she continued. “Well, your grandma had a reputation for helping a lot of unusual people in her day. As she got older, she passed that responsibility on to me. When people stopped by looking for help, I did anything I could to help them. Your father was one of those people.”

“Dad came to you for help because he was a werewolf?” Triana asked.

She was a little surprised at that. Her father had always been a man who liked doing things on his own.

“Yes,” her mom said. “But not quite in the way you think. You see, there are three kinds of werewolves—alphas, betas, and omegas. Your father was an omega, meaning he had some anger management issues. When he got mad, his inner wolf would come out, and he was worried that sooner or later, someone would get hurt. He lived in fear of that happening, so he came to the shop looking for something to help him stay in control.”

Realization dawned on Triana. “The necklace!”

Her mother nodded. “Exactly. The wolf pendant was a charm designed to ward off negative energies and reinforce positive energy.”

“Did it work?”

Her mom tried not to look too smug. “I admit, it was one of my more inspired pieces. But while it was very powerful, I prefer to believe it was your father’s love for you and me that kept him stable. After all, love is by far the most powerful force in the universe.”

Triana dipped her spoon into her soup again. Clearly, the world was a far more complicated place than she had ever imagined. “Why didn’t you or Dad ever tell me any of these things?”

“Why?” Her mother smiled gently. “Because you were always much happier studying your own particular form of magic. We felt no need to confuse you with ours.”

Triana supposed she could understand that. She’d always been into science and had never bought into the voodoo stuff her mother did. She probably would have thought her parents were crazy if they tried to tell her about werewolves. Still, she couldn’t help feeling saddened by that fact. While it was strange trying to reconcile the sweet, kind man she knew with the savage ferocity she’d witnessed that night, it felt like there was a part of her father she’d missed getting to know.

Triana went back to her soup and sandwich, partly because she wanted to eat while it was still hot, but mostly because she needed time to think about what she wanted to ask her mom next. Her first instinct was to ask if her mom had known Remy was a werewolf before tonight, but she pushed that aside until later. The whole subject of Remy was too painful to get into right then.

“Quinn implied Lee and Dad used to be friends,” Triana finally said. “Is that true?”

Her mother sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. When I met your father, he was Lee’s enforcer. Since he was an omega werewolf, he was very good at his job. To some degree, your father was the brawn responsible for building most of Lee’s empire. But when he met me, that changed. I told him if he wanted to be with me, he couldn’t be in that life anymore.”

Triana smiled. She could definitely see her mom laying down the law like that. “How did Dad handle the ultimatum?”

“Better than I expected,” her mother admitted. “But only because he loved me so much. When you came along, it reinforced the importance of what he was doing.” Her lips curved. “The moment your father saw you for the first time, his entire world flipped upside down. He bought the club, settled down, and became an even better husband and a tremendous father. I was aware he still did an odd job for Lee on the side now and then out of some misplaced loyalty to the man, but by and large, he stayed on the straight and narrow.”

Triana’s heart ached at the memory of her father and how much she missed him right then. “Lee said he hired some people he called hunters to murder Dad because he wouldn’t sell drugs out of the club.”

Her mother closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, they were wet with tears. “I’m sure that was the excuse he used to justify what he did. But in reality, I don’t think Lee could ever forgive your father for walking away from him and leaving him weaker.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes, the only sounds in the dark room the clink of their spoons against the bowls and the low, deep voices of Remy and his friends drifting up the stairs. Finishing her soup, Triana pushed the bowl away and took a bite of the sandwich, chewing slowly. Finally, unable to contain her curiosity any longer, she tackled the big pink elephant in the room.

“So, Remy and his friends…” she whispered, half-afraid they’d hear her. “They’re like Dad, aren’t they?”

Her mother laughed as she finished the last of her soup. “Don’t bother to whisper, dear. Werewolves have incredible hearing. If they’ve been paying attention, they’ve heard every word we’ve said.”

Triana blinked. Of course they had incredible hearing. Why not? She glanced over at the kitchen counter where she’d cut her finger the other night—right before she’d asked Remy if he was up for a quickie. Had the other guys heard them? She blushed even as she wondered what other abilities they had.

“Yes, Remy and his friends are werewolves like your father,” her mom said, bringing her attention back to their conversation. “Though technically, they’re a little different because all four of them are alphas, the more dominant kind of werewolf. They’re strong, heroic, and tend to attract a lot of attention everywhere they go. I haven’t met enough alphas to know for sure, but something tells me they’re all hunks too.”

Triana laughed despite herself. Remy was definitely that. But then an image of claws and fangs flashed in her head, and she shuddered. Things between her and Remy had been falling apart before she’d learned he was a werewolf. She doubted learning something like this was going to help their chances of working anything out. The thought made her stomach churn as if it wanted to reject the soup and sandwich she’d just eaten.

Her mother reached across the table and took Triana’s hand in hers. “Hon, I know this is none of my business, so if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand. But I’m a little confused about what’s going on between you and Remy. A few days ago you were talking about falling for him, and now you’re sitting up here in the dark with me while the courageous man who saved your life is trapped in exile downstairs. What happened?”

Triana shook her head. She couldn’t talk about it right now. Besides, what could she say? That Remy had already been in love and didn’t want to go there again? That she had no desire to be with a man who didn’t want her? That she had no idea how she felt about a man with fangs and claws? It was more than she could put into words.

“I’m tired, Mom. I just want to go to bed,” she said.

“Of course, go ahead.” Her mother stood up with her and came around to her side of the table to hug her. “I love you, baby girl.”

She hugged her mom back just as tightly. “I love you too.”

Triana didn’t bother with a flashlight as she headed for her bedroom, since she knew the way by heart. As she passed the staircase, she felt the same pull she’d experienced in Lee’s living room. She stopped to look down the stairs and saw Remy sitting on the bottom step, an empty bowl and plate beside him, his back to her like he was guarding the entry to the apartment, guarding her and her mother.

As if sensing her, he turned his head and Triana caught a glimmer of gold in the darkness. The urge to go downstairs, wrap her arms around him, and tell him how much she appreciated what he’d done for her and her mother was overwhelming.

She pushed the impulse aside and headed down the hall toward her bedroom. Walking past the place where she and Remy had made love a few nights ago brought tears to her eyes, and she hurried the last few feet to her bedroom.

The hot shower felt good but didn’t do much to make her feel any better. Drying off, she dragged on a long sleep shirt and climbed into bed. She lay there, staring into the dark and listening to the wind and rain batter the window as she replayed everything that had happened that day over and over in her mind. It was difficult to reconcile the Remy she knew—or thought she knew—with the glowing yellow eyes, claws, fangs, growls, and violence she’d seen.

She tried to force herself to go to sleep so she wouldn’t have to think about Remy anymore, but her stomach rolled like the dirty Mississippi, refusing to give her a moment of peace.

* * *

Remy and Max stopped at the NOPD SWAT facility to change into dry uniforms and get something to eat before they headed back out to help the city’s residents recover from the storm. They’d been out since six that morning, helping deliver food and water to evacuation centers, clearing streets and storm drains of debris, and handling traffic control for the crews repairing downed electrical lines. The storm hadn’t been as bad as it could have been, but it was still cloudy with occasional bands of rain moving through, and there were still a lot of people who needed help. It would have been rewarding work if Remy hadn’t felt so crappy. His stomach was tied in a frigging knot and he was exhausted as hell.

He was walking past the main conference room when he caught sight of Lorenzo, Drew, Brooks, Cooper, Alex, and several of the local SWAT officers sitting around the table, shuffling though dozens of thick manila folders. Cooper and Alex had arrived in town around two a.m. and spent the night sleeping on the floor of Gemma’s shop with the rest of them. They’d volunteered to come in this morning and help out the NOPD any way they could.

“I’m going to see if they have an update on Lee and Quinn,” Remy told Max. “Grab me something to eat, will you?”

Max nodded. “Will do. I really doubt those two scumbags are hanging around the city, though. They were probably scurrying across the border into Mexico before the storm even passed.”

While Max was probably right about Lee and Quinn not hanging around, Remy couldn’t imagine Lee scurrying anywhere. Quinn, yes. But Lee? No way. The man would have some kind of well-thought-out and cushy evacuation plan already put into place for a situation like this. Something involving a fancy yacht or a private jet. Remy wasn’t taking any chances. That’s why he had Zane stay at Gemma’s shop. If Lee decided to make one more run at Triana and her mother before leaving town, he was going to get a rude awakening.

“Any sign of Lee or Quinn?” Remy asked as he sat down in the empty chair beside Cooper with an audible squishing sound.

On the other side of the table, Brooks glanced up from whatever he was reading. “You’re going to turn into a fish if you keep getting this wet all the time.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Remy said. “So, any word?”

Drew shook his head. “Nothing yet. But we have alerts at all the travel hubs and border crossings. They’ll pop up on the radar soon, especially if they’re together.”

“On the bright side,” Lorenzo said, “we’ve already started getting results back from the search warrants we served this morning. When we find Aaron Lee and Shelton Quinn, they’ll both be heading to jail for a very long time.”

That was great, but Remy would have preferred if he and his pack mates had gotten Lee yesterday during the shoot-out at the gatehouse. Unfortunately Lee and his muscle-headed bodyguard had jumped in their vehicle and hauled ass the moment they’d seen Remy and Brooks running at them faster than humans were supposed to. Then Brooks did his signature move and slammed his shoulder into one of the SUVs. Seeing a guy tackle a car would take the fight out of anybody.

After filling them in on the early results of the search warrants, Lorenzo told them Roth had come through surgery early that morning and would make a full recovery.

“Okay, I don’t know about anyone else, but I could use something to eat,” the narcotics detective said when he finished. “Let’s pick this back up after lunch.”

Everyone but Drew got up to join him. Remy stayed behind as well. To say he’d been frustrated yesterday when Drew had gone with them to Lee’s house to rescue Triana was an understatement, but when the questions had started coming hard and fast after the fact, he’d been glad the man was there. Drew knew people in the Kenner PD, knew who needed to get involved, and, most important, knew how to push the right buttons to keep the attention focused on Lee and Quinn and the fact that they’d attempted to kill an undercover police officer and had kidnapped Triana.

In the end, Drew had definitely kept Remy and his pack mates out of a lot of hot water—not just by smoothing the feathers that had been ruffled by having out-of-state officers conducting a raid in their city, but also by not saying anything about what he’d seen Remy and the other werewolves doing during the raid.

“I never did get a chance to thank you for everything you did yesterday,” Remy said quietly. “You covered for us when a lot of people might not have.”

Drew met his gaze across the table. “You mean the part where I didn’t mention the fact that you guys are part of a pack of werewolves?”

Remy tried his best not to let his surprise show, but he was pretty sure he failed. He considered denying it, but what would be the point? Drew had obviously seen what they were. Brooks had tackled an SUV ten feet away from him. Still, it was a big leap from seeing something strange to calmly acknowledging they were part of a pack of werewolves.

Wait a minute…part of a pack?

Clearly, Drew knew more than it appeared.

“How long have you known about us?” Remy asked.

Drew leaned back in his chair. “I figured out back while I was still in Dallas on the SWAT team that Gage was different. I’d see him do things a normal person shouldn’t be able to do. At first I thought he was juicing on steroids or something like that, but then I saw a blitzed-out junkie shove a piece of rusty rebar through Gage’s thigh. He pulled it out like it was nothing. When I saw him the next day in shorts and a T-shirt at morning PT, there wasn’t a mark on him. That’s when I figured out it wasn’t simply a case of better living through chemistry.”

The NOPD SWAT commander fell silent as a group of his officers walked past the door with paper plates in their hands, the mouthwatering scent of sausage and crawfish gumbo following them.

“Not long after that, Gage took over the team and I noticed the new people he brought in were as unique as he was,” Drew continued. “Gage was different, and the team he was putting together in Dallas was built with that difference in mind. I’m a good SWAT officer, and working with Gage made me even better, but I saw what he was trying to do. I knew I wouldn’t be able to hang with those guys for long. When the opportunity to apply for this position here in New Orleans opened up, I moved on it, and Gage helped me get it. He did the same for every officer who ultimately transferred. I always appreciated that.”

Remy considered that. “Going from what you’d seen to knowing about werewolves and packs still seems like a big leap.”

Drew laughed. “That part I learned once I got here. You work in New Orleans long enough and you start learning all kinds of new things—if you’re willing to open your eyes and see them. Believe it or not, werewolves aren’t that weird compared to some of the stuff I’ve run into.”

Remy wasn’t sure what to say to that. This wasn’t the direction he’d expected this conversation to go. “I have to admit, you’re taking this way better than I think most people would.”

Triana came to mind.

“Probably not any better than the average person on the street.” Drew regarded him thoughtfully. “You should have more faith in people. Most of them would surprise you with how accepting they can be if you give them a chance.”

Remy was still considering that when Drew stood up and announced he was going to go hunt down some of that gumbo he’d been smelling. Remy nodded, saying he’d join him later. He was wondering if he should change into a dry uniform before he did, when Cooper walked in with two plates of steaming food and plunked one down on the table in front of him.

“You should eat,” Cooper said as he sat down across from him. “You look like shit.”

Remy snorted as he opened the plastic-wrapped utensil set Cooper tossed him. “Thanks for that. Nice to see you too.”

“Just pointing out the obvious.” Cooper dug into his gumbo and rice like he hadn’t eaten in a week. “You know me. Truth and sarcasm are just two of the many services I provide.”

Remy chuckled as he slid his plate of food closer. You could always count on Cooper, the Pack’s explosives expert, to interject a heavy dose of snark into any situation. The guy simply couldn’t carry on a normal conversation without slipping in at least one smart-ass comment. Remy had no idea how his new bride put up with him.

He ate a big forkful of gumbo, then immediately decided he didn’t want another bite. While the food looked amazing and smelled even better, it tasted like dirt. He shoved the plate away with a growl of frustration.

Cooper looked at him. “Max mentioned you weren’t feeling so well lately. No appetite, huh?”

Remy shook his head. “Not really. I guess I’ve been pushing myself too hard and it’s starting to catch up to me.”

As lies went, it wasn’t bad. In fact, it sounded so logical Remy almost found himself believing it. Unfortunately, Cooper didn’t.

“Is that the line you’re going with? That you’re overworked?” Cooper said, not even slowing down in between bites. “You don’t think the way you’re feeling might have something to do with what’s going on between you and Triana?”

“No,” Remy insisted.

There was no way he was talking to Cooper about Triana. He was doing everything he could to put her behind him. Remembering the way she’d recoiled from him after the raid at Lee’s home definitely helped accomplish that. It was obvious she couldn’t even stand to look at him. Rehashing everything wasn’t going to help.

“Really?” Cooper lifted a brow. “Because Max mentioned you started feeling sick when you decided to push her away.”

“Max says a lot of shit he should keep to himself,” Remy muttered, slamming his fist down on the table and growling loud enough everyone in the whole facility probably heard it.

He regretted lashing out immediately, but Cooper didn’t seem fazed at all. Instead, he regarded Remy thoughtfully.

“Fear leads to anger,” Cooper said softly. “Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.”

Remy stared at him. Where the hell did Cooper get this stuff? It sounded deep as shit, but surprisingly, it actually made sense. “Did you just make that up?”

Cooper shook his head and ate another forkful of gumbo. “Nah, that was Yoda. But it seems to fit. It’s obvious you’re scared to commit to a relationship with Triana, and that fear is leading you down a path of one dumb-ass decision after another. You’re feeling like this because you’re making a mistake. And while the rest of humanity has the free will to make all kinds of dumb-ass mistakes, there are some decisions that are essentially out of a werewolf’s hands, like who they end up loving.”

Remy ground his jaw. He wanted to tell Cooper he didn’t love Triana, but the thought of denying it made him sick. “So you’re trying to tell me I have no say in this? That werewolves don’t get to make a decision that’s in the best interest of everyone involved? That I can’t walk away from Triana if I know being with me is going to get her killed?”

His hands shook as he said the words, pain and queasiness radiating out from his stomach in waves. This must be what it feels like to be a junkie trying to come down from a drug the body is sure it needs to exist. That’s what it felt like Triana was, something he needed in order to live.

Remy got a grip and pushed that thought away. Getting involved with Triana had already gotten her kidnapped and almost killed. He might carry a gris-gris bag, but in every way that mattered, he was cursed. If he gave in, something else bad was going to happen to the woman he cared for more than anything in the world.

No matter how crappy he felt at that moment, he wasn’t going to turn his back on his promise to never let that happen again.

Cooper reached over and grabbed Remy’s uneaten plate of gumbo. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said as he ate. “You have the free will necessary to walk away from Triana. It’s just going to come with a price.”

Remy gritted his teeth as a particularly bad spasm of pain rushed through him, almost making him double over. Shit, he’d been shot before and it hadn’t hurt like this. He wondered if this might actually be something that ended up killing him. Then decided he didn’t care.

“That’s a price I’m willing to pay,” he said.

“That’s cool. Be a hard-nosed badass, then.”

Cooper finished the second helping of gumbo, then picked up both paper plates and walked over to toss them in the trash can. A moment later, he came back and leaned down over the table, his face inches from Remy’s. “There’s just one thing you might want to consider as you’re suffering stoically in your misery.”

Remy looked up at the other werewolf, not liking anyone this close to his grill. “What’s that?”

“What makes you think you’re the only one hurting like this?” Cooper asked. “You ever consider that maybe the suffering goes both ways? Think about that.”

Straightening to his full height, Cooper walked out of the room, leaving Remy alone with his doubts, his fears, and his regrets.