Chapter Five

 

“Inn at one end, war memorial in the middle, church at the bottom—classic English,” Sam commented, looking down the hill at the cottages lining the main road, and the bigger houses set back on streets leading off from it, their big gardens leading to the fields.

“Full English, you mean.” Keirnan ushered Sam through the arch into the long courtyard of the large L-shaped eighteenth-century slate building. “The big breakfast challenge, in fact.”

He was curious how Sam would react to everything, wondering how his hometown would seem to someone else, someone new. Sam was full of questions, not the least about the name of the inn.

“The White Wolf? And Loopwood? Was that originally spelled Lupe-wood, as in wolf?”

He actually had a reporter’s notepad in his hand, and pulled a pen out from where it was clipped into the spirals at the top. “What’s happening this weekend? This place is full.”

“Pack meeting.” Keirnan watched Sam’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. God knew what he was imagining. “In the village hall. Lots of decisions to be made. Like, new doors, or carry on with the old ones? Free up more land for housing for our local youngsters? Oh, and the post office—”

He broke off to greet the innkeepers, fellow shifters whose family had owned the business for generations. That tended to be the way of things, in their communities. Meg and Oscar were rushed today, with the number of visitors who’d chosen to stay there rather than in Market Norford, and even those staying with family locally tended to drift to the Howl, as the pub was informally known, at some point. Or points. It was a good place for Keirnan to get a heads-up of any matters likely to be raised or contentious, later.

“I’ll take you on the tourist trail and explain all about Hugh Le Blanc, or Hugh the White Wolf, who came over with the Conqueror in 1066 and became the first Earl of Norford. His coat of arms is the pub sign and it’s called after his nickname,” he promised Sam, nudging him to put his notebook away. “And don’t Instagram the big breakfast…” He ducked to avoid the balled-up napkin Sam threw.

“That’s a challenge, all right.” Sam eyed the heaping plate set in front of Keirnan, the eggs resting on hash browns, the sausages curled around them, the mushrooms dotted around the edge of the plate and the rashers of bacon latticed over the top. A rack of toast stood at the ready, as did a plate of pancakes. “A challenge to eat all that and not have to go to ER.”

“No, the challenge is if you can eat it all in fifteen minutes, it’s free,” Meg corrected, placing Sam’s porridge and blueberries in front of him. Oscar winked, sliding the condiments down for them before being called away.

“Shouldn’t that be easy, for a were?” Sam enquired, showing his glasses up his nose with his forefinger. “Everything I’ve read since your existence was revealed says you have a fast metabolism, you burn calories and…” He trailed off, watching Keirnan slide his fork into his mouth.

Keirnan didn’t mind the stare. He was enjoying the sight of Sam raising his spoon to his lips and sucking it clean. “Yeah, but that’s not the issue.”

“Oh, the time limit?” Sam leaned forward. “Weres—”

“Is a bit old-fashioned. Shifters.”

“I stand corrected.” Sam dipped his head. “You like to eat slowly, digestion, and all that? Doesn’t seem so, the way you’re shovelling it in.”

“Respect your elders, kid. And again, not the issue.” Keirnan took a slug of tea. He indicated the new couple descending on them. “This is.”

It was impossible to eat or drink in the pub uninterrupted, people always interested in catching up, sharing news, asking after someone or something. He and Sam had had a pretty quiet first five minutes—Keirnan had deliberately chosen to sit around the corner, near the fireplace and not in the bar proper or out in the yard. But word got around, and curiosity about Keinan’s latest career developments and his companion was high, meaning their meals took time to consume, and the challenge was lost.

Sam was still chuckling over it when they left. “I’m torn between saying that’s good marketing and asking if the baptism of fire was deliberate,” was his comment.

Keirnan played dumb. “What?”

“The crowd gathering, the flock of…parrots?” Sam pointed at the colourful birds circling. A bright blue macaw dropped onto Keirnan’s shoulder, nuzzling its beak into his neck and nipping at his lobe. None too gently. An African Grey hovered, keeping look-out. “Oooh! Bird shifters?”

“Monos. Non-shifters. They’re pets. And it’s a pandemonium. Of parrots.” Keirnan launched Suzi back into the air. “They’ll tell Dad we’re on the way. What?”

Sam shook his head. “Just, I’m sooo tempted to write that profile piece, because no one would believe it, Keir.”

Keirnan’s heart warmed at the nickname, one Sam didn’t seem conscious he’d bestowed. “Talk to your editor about it,” he suggested, then frowned. “You know, it surprises me you’re a film reviewer or critic. I’d have expected—”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Keirnan wondered at Sam’s tone, truculent and defensive. He opened the car for him. “Why parrots, is that what you’re thinking? Well, mono mammals find it hard to be around shifters, and sometimes vice versa. Birds, not so much. So, Dad sort of collects them. By that I mean, they tend to turn up.”

It was hardly worth driving down the road, but there was no point leaving the car at the inn. “This is it.” Keirnan swung off the main street and down the smaller lane in the birds’ wake, then through the open gate to bump up to the old stone farmhouse, the overgrown rock cottage, as he thought of it. He turned left, taking the short track out to the old barn/stables. “This is me. It’s sort of a local version of a converted loft. Kind of.”

Sam stared at the long building, taking in its stone and bricks, its stable doors and flight of steps up to the top level, all the traces of the building’s former incarnations. “Did your father build that for you, so you’d have your own place?”

“My father is not any sort of backwoods builder or stonemason or quarry worker, thank you very much.” Keirnan exited the vehicle and winked over the roof at Sam. “He’s a garage mechanic in Lower Norford.”

He inhaled. God, the scents of his pack territory were good. They’d be stronger in his wolf form later, of course. Sam had mentioned that he understood shifters didn’t have to change with the moon. True—they could call on the change whenever they wanted or needed to. They didn’t have to transform at all, but the pull of pack and packland was strong, wolves feeling the need to come together. He stretched, anticipating the lengthening of limbs and strengthening of bone later.

He caught Sam looking as if he knew what Keirnan was thinking. He raised an eyebrow, surprised when Sam blushed.

“Oh, nothing.” Sam waved a hand. “Just, I really like that happy trail.” He pointed at Keirnan’s abdominal hair that disappeared into his groin, revealed when his shirt parted company with his jeans. “Well, all that manly fuzz, really,”

“Happy trail?” Keirnan laughed, indicating the way back to the main house.

“Treasure trail, then. Goodie trail. And, yes, I wax for swimming,” Sam added.

“You are so bloody metrosexual! Do you tint your hair?” Keirnan was mocking, when a car shot up to the cottage too quickly, sending the birds screeching up into the air from their perches around the front door. “Oh, God. My sister’s arrived. Now you’ll really understand pandemonium.”

And it was, with Leanne and her two kids, Owen and Mia, who jumped around everywhere, through the house, on their granddad and on him. He was pleased to see they didn’t sniff Sam or make any remark about him being human. They were well brought up, and too busy asking crazy questions about which superheroes and cartoon characters he’d met, and was the blond man with him his undercover bodyguard, leaving him and Sam breathless with laughter.

“Dad.” Keirnan grabbed him in for a hug in the chaos, turning him away from teamaking duties. “Sam, my father, Lorcan. Dad, Sam, my…guest for the weekend.”

Maybe it was wondering how everything looked through Sam’s eyes that made Keirnan see his father as a person, not as a father, without the childhood-superhero filter on. Lorcan still had a strong vitality and quiet power, but he was ageing, Keirnan saw, his hair—grey for years now—thinning and his body shrunken, somehow. Keirnan was stunned. It hadn’t been that long, since he’d last been back, had it? How had he not noticed? He’d been wrapped up in himself and his career for so long, but… Lorcan flickered his hazel gaze from his son to Sam, taking his time, taking things in.

“That bloody parakeet!” Leanne batted at the flying bird trying to perch on her head.

“It’s a caique,” Lorcan and Owen corrected together.

Sam laughed. “I’m learning so much this weekend,” he said, extending a finger to a small, blushing cockatiel on an indoor perch. It was new to the aviary, and Keirnan didn’t know it.

“Are you taking the kids for a bit, give your sister a break?” Lorcan asked.

“Oh, Dad, Keirnan will want time together with his…guest,” Leanne reproved her father. “I bet they don’t get much time alone. Life in London is crazy, isn’t it? And he’s away a lot…”

Got to hand it to sis and her fishing expeditions. Sam agreed that, yes, the pace was fast in the capital and he was a journalist, and yes, that was how they’d met and, oh, he would like to write a story about Keirnan. And shifters and—

“We don’t shift,” Mia announced, tugging on Sam’s sleeve.

“Are you too young?” Sam queried, looking from Mia to Owen.

Good guess, but—

“We’re only half-wolf. Our dad was human, like you.”

“Oh, so that means…” Sam blinked, trying to work it out.

“Sweetie, you know it could go either way.” Leanne scooped her daughter to her, pouring the tea with her other hand. “We’ll know soon enough if you’re more like me or your father.” Her lips thinned as they always did when she mentioned her ex. She looked tired. No wonder Lorcan had suggested giving her a break.

“How’s business?” Keirnan asked Lorcan. “And don’t ask Sam what he drives, unless you want to be shocked.”

“Oh. Foreign motor, is it?” Lorcan asked Sam.

“Oh, no. Made in Britain. Just with two wheels, no engine, and a ding-dong bell on the front,” Sam admitted.

Lorcan laughed. “Good. Business is good. Matthew’s working with us now.”

“Matthew Brooks? Your partner’s younger son?” Keirnan blinked.

“Daniella’s brother, yes.”

“Isn’t he about twelve?” Keirnan asked after a moment’s pause.

Mia found this hilarious.

“Dad and his old friend Charlie Brooks own a garage not far from here,” Leanna explained to Sam. “Have done for years. Since before we were born.” She indicated Keirnan. “Getting busier now as the only other garages are in Market Norford, and they’re pricey. What with rent and rates going up everywhere else in the county, the businesses that are left have to charge more.”

“Do you work in the family business?” Sam asked.

Leanne snorted. “I can barely put petrol in a car, never mind fix one! I do the books though. I’m a chartered certified accountant and business advisor for a firm in Harby. We advise small businesses, help with tax planning, growth plans, that sort of thing.”

“Matt did his work placements from his motor vehicle engineering course at the Tech with us, you remember. So, with him finishing this latest part, he’s with us five days a week now. Which is good as I’ve cut back.”

“What?” Keirnan swung to his father, his mug of tea halfway to his mouth.

Lorcan nodded. “And I’m cutting down from four to three days a week from next month. Felt like it was time, you know?”

“You deserve time to yourself, Dad.” Leanne patted his shoulder. “Well, not that there’s much of that… The Council takes up a lot of time now,” she explained.

It always had. For as long as Keirnan could remember, Lorcan had been busy with admin, if not people’s needs, in the evenings. He took his duties seriously.

“Yes, Well. I’ll be telling you about it later, in good time for the meeting.” Lorcan cleared his throat. “You’ll be wanting to take Sam out and about while it’s nice. Show him the sights.”

“Sights!” Leanne scoffed. “It’s hardly New York or Paris, is it, bustling with stores and museums and what not. Well, I hope you don’t think it’s too boring and backwoods around here, with you being used to bigger and brighter places.” Leanne’s mouth was a thin line again as they made their way out.

“Am I allowed to ask about her ex? Who doesn’t spend much if any time with his kids?” Sam enquired.

Keirnan raised a brow.

“Mia used the past tense in reference to her father, yet Leanne’s more angry than sad he isn’t around. No pictures of him in your father’s…” He bowed at Keirnan’s applause.

“Yeah, she’s still angry he took up with someone else and left. A few years back now.” Wow, it’d gone quickly. Keirnan retrieved their bags. “He was everything to her. Gray wolves are generally monogamous and mated pairs usually stay together for life.”

“But they weren’t a mated pair, then. He wasn’t a wolf.”

“No.” Keirnan turned away from Sam’s wide blue gaze. He indicated the barn. “Up these steps.”

“It’s all about heading to the bedroom with you. And, no, I’m not complaining.”

Keirnan had been about to explain that going straight upstairs would make it quicker to change into more suitable clothes for cycling and swimming, but he preferred to stay silent and watch Sam taking everything in. As he’d expected, Sam flung open the huge wooden double windows and gazed out over the canal, the silvery trail meandering through the field.

“You can leave those open, air the place out.” Keirnan pulled shorts on and grabbed water and energy bars from his bag, then rounded up towels while he waited for Sam. Would Sam like the fields and canal, the woods and streams, the forest and river? He’d soon find out.

“Well.” Sam turned from the view. “It’s almost as pretty as Hampstead Heath.” He ducked the rolled-up socks Keirnan threw at him.

“Come on, city boy.” Keirnan hustled him out.

Sam caught his arm as Keirnan uncoupled their bikes from the Land Rover and pushed the things into a pannier. “I’m kidding. It’s just as nice as Hampstead. No doubt about it. Thank you for bringing me.”

“You’re welcome.” Keirnan snaked a hand around the back of Sam’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss. It was swift yet sexy, and energising somehow. “Now, just try and keep up, kiddo.”

“Stop it with the kid references!” Sam yelled after his speeding form. “I’m gonna google the hell out of you and find out your age!”