Chapter Seven
After thanking Kenny for his tip, Blue dropped his phone into his pocket and marched into the heart of Maria in search of Mason Foye.
Blue hadn’t met the man even after six months in Maria, which seemed improbable, at best. The town was the size of a lint speck, and the entire downtown grid could be walked in less than twenty minutes if the person doing the walking was spry enough. Even if Mason lived out on a ranch somewhere out in the gods-forsaken desert, Blue figured he ought to have seen a glimpse of him at least once.
Kenny had seen him, though, and apparently he’d just gone into the Better Builders hardware store with a long list in hand. He’d be in there for a while. Blue figured he might as well tack on a little chat to the man’s errand.
Whistling as he stepped into the humid store, he gave the wizened clerk at the desk a wave and scanned the long aisles in search of an alpha shifter with red hair. Supposedly, he was good looking, but he was going on third-hand information with that, and what Blue counted as attractive probably didn’t match up well with what Tina Height thought. After all, she was a Coyote of a certain sort—smarter on four legs than on two.
His phone buzzed right as he spotted his probable suspect kneeling at the end of an aisle, digging into what looked to be a vat of washers. Alphas were always on-call, so he couldn’t ignore the phone. A glance at the screen made him wish he had.
It seemed Diana had an unsolicited scouting report for him.
Diana: Of the thirty children in this band room, four are Coyotes, three are Cougars, and two are witches.
“Huh,” Blue grunted. He couldn’t say for sure that the stats were normal for a public school. He’d gone to private school until college, and he’d been the only shifter in his graduating class.
Blue: Is there a problem?
Diana: No. These little witches, like most decent ones, are neutral. They’ll be curious, but won’t say anything untoward. Given their ages, the Cougars have to know who Willa is associated with, but they seem more concerned about me than about Willa.
He could see why that would be the case. Of all the things Willa was, dangerous wasn’t one of them. Diana, on the other hand, was the daughter of a born alpha. She was probably pinging those kids’ paranormal radars like a missile coming in hot. Plus, she couldn’t avoid showing a bit of fang when she smiled—an unfortunate genetic quirk of all Coyote shifters. Most were pretty good at keeping their lips together when they were sober.
Blue: And do I want to know what the dangerous demigoddess is doing?
Wanting to know what his nemesis and foil was up to and needing to know were two different things entirely. She’d find some way to subvert him, no matter what he did, but maybe he was a masochist who just couldn’t stop himself from picking fights with her. They weren’t even fun, and they sure as shit weren’t productive.
Diana: She’s outside walking the kids through marching drills.
Diana: Class ends in ten minutes. If I’m reading this schedule correctly, she has sixth-graders for fourth block, and school lets out at 3:35.
Blue had no idea if he had any sixth-graders in the pack. Not having kids of his own, that wasn’t information he’d ever had a reason to keep up with before, and he was pretty sure his father didn’t make an effort to know those details either.
Blue tossed the phone from hand to hand and chewed the inside of his cheek. He’d never wanted to follow in the footsteps of his father. There were as many different ways to be an alpha as there were alphas, and Blue had always thought he’d do his own thing. Yet, with every new scenario in Maria, he immediately thought about his father’s framework for the same thing. He had to break out of that compulsion, because he wasn’t anything like his father, and the worst possible outcome for him would be to act like the man in spite of his disgust for him.
He closed the text from Diana and sent one to Kenny.
Blue: Hey. Can you get me a list of all the kids in the pack along with their schools and ages? Names of their teachers, too, if the information is easy to come by.
Kenny: Yep, give me a few hours.
“That’s my boy,” Blue murmured. Unlike Willa, Kenny didn’t question every damn thing Blue did. Blue closed the text from Kenny and sent one to Diana.
Blue: I’m in the hardware store about to talk to the Cougar alpha. If you’re going to play double agent while you’re here, do me a favor and corral Willa someplace where I can find her after school. She’s good at slipping away.
Diana: I’ll do what I can . . . And I won’t say anything to OG about her. He assumes she’s got magic, and I don’t see the point of disabusing him of that notion. She’s odd in a way I can’t put a finger on. Not in a bad way, but I’m frustrated that I can’t figure out what it is about her.
“So it’s not just me, then,” he mused, putting the phone away. Willa had a way of persisting in his mind like some forgotten to-do list item. Diana may have felt the same.
He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with the woman, though, besides getting her out of the way so he could run the damned pack.
As Blue turned down the only remaining aisle, Mason Foye looked up and stood, and one of his auburn eyebrows inched up slowly as his lips peeled back and curved fangs descended from his gums.
The part of Blue that was wild dog bristled at the insult. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and the threatening prickles in his spine warned of an involuntary shift to his animal form.
Closing his eyes, Blue stretched his neck to one side and then the other, quietly murmuring to his inner wild thing, “Not yet.” He was an alpha. He wouldn’t let his urges control him.
“Settle down,” he said to the cat. “If you start hissing, we’re gonna have a problem.”
“The way I see things,” Mason said low, “we already have a problem.”
Blue opened his eyes at that, and found the Cougar twisting a wicked knot into the clear plastic bag he’d scooped washers into. Mason probably tried most of the time to keep his energy reined in so it didn’t suffocate the energy sensitive sorts around him. Humans probably couldn’t sense the thick magic pouring off him, but it was likely powerful enough to clench the ass of any shifter or witch in a two-block radius. Fortunately, Blue was made of sterner stuff than most supernatural weirdos. His ass was unaffected.
He rubbed down the hair on the back of his neck, though, and leaned against the nearby support column. If he didn’t look like he was on the attack, there was a chance he could keep the confrontation mellow—or as mellow as a conversation could be between two men with fangs. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said to Mason.
“What do you want?”
“Didn’t it maybe cross your mind that we’re overdue for a proper introduction?”
“A proper introduction would have been you making an effort to meet with me before right now, in the fucking hardware store, in a place owned by people who have no clue what kind of beasts they’re harboring.”
“So, you’re just assuming this is going to get ugly.”
Nostrils flaring, Mason knocked his hair back from his eyes and swallowed loud enough for Blue to hear.
It was usually never a good thing if a man had to slow himself before speaking. If Blue had been a lesser Coyote, he might have taken a step or two back to give Mason some space, but if they were going to have a pissing contest, Blue was going to be up close and personal with it. He sure as shit wasn’t about to make himself Mason Foye’s punk. Blue was probably riding a bike without training wheels when Mason was still in diapers.
“When I heard that the last alpha disappeared,” Mason said through clenched teeth, “I said a little prayer to whichever god gave a damn that the pack wouldn’t get another.”
“And why the hell would you do that?”
“I find it hard to believe that you’re as clueless about what you’ve acquired as you make out. That either means you’re a liar—and makes you dangerous—or you’re stupid.” Mason shrugged. “Being stupid would make you dangerous, too, I guess.”
“Apparently, your reputation isn’t overblown. You’re definitely an asshole, and I’ve got three degrees that say I’m not stupid. That’s book smarts, but I do okay on common sense, too. Common sense is why I’m having this conversation with you in public.” Blue smiled and didn’t care if there was fang showing. There was no way in hell the cashier could see them through the security monitor, even if he zoomed in tight. “If we’re gonna fight, we can fight. Not here, though. Not in public. Name the time and date, and we can do it properly and with an audience if you’d like.” He shrugged. “No holds barred. I’ll even let you have first swing.”
Mason’s narrowed eyes had turned a feline shade of green and the pupils had narrowed into nearly invisible filaments.
Blue couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so close to a Cougar. He was charting new territory and should have been more careful, but it was too late for him to retreat. He’d crossed paths with all sorts of people in Vegas, but folks there tended to leave each other the hell alone as a matter of course. Maria was too small a place for two alphas to keep to their respective corners.
“The best thing for me, and my Cougars,” Mason said tightly, “would be for you to go away and for the rest of your dogs to follow you.”
Clucking his tongue, Blue shook his head. “Well. Unfortunately for you, I don’t see that happening. Coyotes have been here a long time.”
“The Cougars have been here for longer, and unlike you, we don’t make trouble.”
“You want to blame me for shit that happened before I came?” Blue put up his hands. “Fine. I can see how a small mind would immediately leap to that conclusion, so I’m not going to argue with you. I just wanted you to see my face. I wanted you to hear my voice. Wanted you to taste my energy so you know who you’re dealing with.”
“That sounds like a threat.” And Mason was making one right back, if that growl in his chest was to be taken seriously.
“I’m fine with you thinking that,” Blue said. “Truly, I am. I’m not looking for friendship from you. All I expect is a modicum of cooperation so I can do my job in the way everyone needs me to.”
“If your definition of everyone is the whole of the Coyote pack and excludes the rest of the people in Maria who have to deal with the fallout of your bullshit, then you’ve already failed.”
“How about asking me questions instead of making assumptions?”
“Why bother asking? Huh? You’re a Coyote. You’re going to lie.” Mason shoved past him, rounded the aisle, and called up to the front, “Neil, did you get those clamps in I ordered? I’ve got a huge cabinetry system that needs to be assembled tomorrow.”
Apparently, Blue had been dismissed.
For a minute, Blue held still against the pole, staring at the spot where Mason had been standing and grinding his teeth. The confrontation hadn’t been productive, and he didn’t feel any better at having gotten the introductions out of the way. Perhaps some small part of him had been hoping they’d come to some accord and that he could find support and cooperation from one of the town’s respected leaders. He needed someone to be on his side if Willa wasn’t going to be.
He hadn’t gotten that, but he wasn’t going to crawl away dejected. He wasn’t afraid of hard work. The pack wasn’t a challenge he planned to back down from.
“I’ll figure something out. I always do,” he said to himself as he tapped the heels of his palms against the support column.
Mason had backtracked to the opening of the aisle.
Blue straightened up, ready to fight if he needed to, but Mason didn’t come closer.
“By the way,” the Cougar said in a flat, disquieting tone. “I’ve got a new baby and more work than I know what to do with right now. I haven’t had time to deal with my newest problem in the manner in which I normally would, but when I find out which of your Coyotes has been terrorizing the cattle on my mother’s ranch, you better hope they can run faster than I can.” He tossed his bag from one hand to the other. “I seriously doubt they can. You’d better be ready with a shovel to scoop them up.”
Mason left.
Blue muttered, “Fuck,” and launched a text message to Lance.
Blue: Hey. Coyotes have been stirring up trouble at Mason Foye’s mother’s ranch. Need to figure out who ASAP.
Lance: What happened?
Blue: Met Mason. No warm fuzzies. If he finds the Coyote, there’ll be blood.
Lance: And we’d have to respond in kind if there is.
Lance always understood.
Blue: Yeah, so . . . Let’s not get there.
Lance: I’ll get to work.
Blue: Update me later. And do me a favor—don’t say anything to the patron lady. She’s gonna bind our hands.
Lance: Understood.
Blue let out a ragged breath and made his way to the door. He not only needed to find the cattle-harassers before Mason did, but before Willa found out and tried to protect them. She’d be shooting the pack in its figurative foot if she didn’t let him mete out punishments as necessary.
“What is wrong with that woman?” He took off toward Coyote HQ, mind spinning like a whirling dervish.
He needed to figure her out, and fast, or the USS Coyote was going to sink, and Blue would have to go down with it. It wasn’t like he had a choice.