Go Fetch!

  “Who?”

  “Not sure. But it’s the same scent as the one from the rave.”

  “Great. Just what I fucking need.”

  “They weren’t here long. Jake’s stupid but he was on them pretty fast.”

  “On who pretty fast?”

  Conall and Zach looked up to see Sara standing in front of them, a stack of mail in her hand. She’d really gotten stealthy lately, learning how to stay downwind.

  “Nothing,” Zach grunted.

  Sara sighed and squeezed in between the two of them on the bench. “You’re lying to me. I really hate that.” She laid her head on Zach’s shoulder. “You might as well tell me now, mate. I’ll just get it out of you later.”

  “I’m never sure if those are threats or promises.”

  With a low growl, she bit Zach’s shoulder. Zach winced as she drew blood. “It’s both.” She retracted her canines.

  Conall knew if he didn’t say anything he’d have to witness the Alpha pair’s idea of foreplay—wrestling. All they were missing were the ring and the announcer.

  “Something in our territory last night. Not sure what, though.”

  “Bunnies?” she asked hopefully, and Conall heard Zach growl.

  He laughed. Sara always made him laugh. She was a wacky girl.

  “Probably not. Not too many bunny shifters.”

  “So you say. Well, whatever was in our territory should be dead. Are they dead, Conall?”

  Zach and Conall looked at Sara, then at each other. The woman was dangerous. She didn’t tolerate outsiders on the Pack’s property. She didn’t tolerate threats to her Pack. She didn’t tolerate anything she deemed a danger to who and what she loved. She wasn’t a hunter like Conall or Kelly or any of the other Pack members. Sara Morrighan was a stone-cold killer. She knew it and she liked it.

  “No, but Jake scared them off.”

  “I want Angie and Miki safe when they’re here.”

  “They will be,” Zach assured her.

  “And you better stay close to Miki for me, Conall. You know, for safety.”

  Zach groaned. “Very subtle, mate.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I’m only thinking about my friend’s safety.” If you didn’t know her, you would have thought she was being completely sincere.

  Sara handed a stack of mail to Zach. “Here.” Then she handed a small, card-sized envelope to Conall.

  Zach examined the stack in his hand. “Why are there bite marks on these?”

  “Roscoe got to the postman before I could.”

  There was that deep sigh Zach seemed to do a lot since Sara came into his life. He also rubbed his eyes with his palms, making Sara smile and wink at Conall.

  “Did he bite the postman?”

  “No. He just ripped the mail from his hand. And then the postman ran away—like a little girl.”

  “Get rid of that dog.”

  “No.”

  Conall opened his envelope while Zach and Sara had their weekly fight over “the dog” as Zach called him. He glanced at the card, crumpled it up, and tossed it into the bushes. It took him a minute to realize he now had Zach and Sara’s full attention.

  “Everything okay?”

  Conall shrugged at Zach’s question. “It’s from my cousin.”

  Just like that, Zach stopped caring. He knew Conall’s family, and he didn’t like them. So, he began to open the stack of bills. Sara, however, was a different story. You couldn’t put off her curiosity with a crowbar.

  “What’s wrong with your cousin?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Again with the lying. You know I hate that.”

  Zach grinned at that.

  “What was the card about?”

  “He wants me to visit the family. But I think I’d rather set myself on fire.”

  “That seems extreme. And unnecessary. We’re your family. Fuck them.” Sara Morrighan was quite the delicate flower. “Do you want to go see them?”

  “No.”

  “Then I’m forbidding you to go. Because I’m Alpha Female and, apparently, I can do that.” Not that she ever would unless he wanted her to. Right now, though, he wanted her to.

  “Damn you, woman,” he playfully chastised. “I guess I’m stuck here, huh, Zach?”

  “I’m not facing those friends of hers on my own.”

  “What did I say?” Sara snapped. “I want you to be cheery when you see my friends.”

  “I don’t do cheery.”

  “You will if you want to do me.”

  To Zach’s annoyance, Conall laughed at that. The woman never gave Zach an inch. And Conall knew Zach wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Sara turned back to Conall. “Now I’m insisting you be here because my birthday’s coming up and I expect a party. I’m thinkin’ Texas barbeque and line dancing.”

  Zach growled again. “I am not line dancing.”

  Conall nodded. “Then line dancing it is!” He ignored Zach’s glare as Sara bumped Conall with her shoulder and he bumped her back. The woman was like the psychotically dangerous little sister he never had.

  Staring at the paperwork in his hand, Zach snarled, “What the fuck is going on with this friggin’ water bill?”

  Miki stepped out of the limo and stared. “Are you sure this is the right address?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I do all the pickups for Mr. Sheridan.”

  “But this isn’t a house.” A mansion. A castle. A palace. But not a house.

  “I’ll get your bags, ma’am.”

  Miki nodded as she continued to stare at Sara’s new home. A huge building on its own sprawling range of land. Next to the house was an enormous garage filled to overflowing with choppers of every shape and description as well as a couple of pickup trucks and SUVs. She recognized Marrec’s bikes immediately. Seemed the Pack was giving Sara’s surrogate dad a ton of business.

  She couldn’t believe this. How could Sara be living here? Sara who was happy with a book and soda. Sara who happily worked at Marrec’s place for fifteen years and “C’d” her way right through high school and junior college. How could that Sara now be living in a place where the drive from the gate to the house alone took almost ten minutes?

  Miki remembered one of Angelina’s last comments to her: “You’ll like her place. It’s nice. Just needs a porch.”

  A porch?

  The front door opened and Sara appeared. Physically, she was a little different. Leaner. Her hair much longer, almost to her waist. But she was still Sara with her worn jeans, battered Harley-Davidson T-shirt, and old cowboy boots. Sara’s face lit up as soon as she saw Miki and Miki hated herself for waiting so long to come see her friend.

  “Dude!” Sara charged down the stairs and straight to the limo, tackling Miki and knocking them both back into the vehicle.

  Sara’s laughter and excitement were infectious and, before Miki knew it, she was hugging her friend back and squealing right along with her.

  “You bitch! I thought you’d never come!” Sara stood, grabbed Miki’s hand, and dragged her back out of the car. She hugged her again.

  At the same time they both said, “Your hair’s longer.”

  Then they started laughing.

  “Where would you like me to put the bags, Mrs. Sheridan?”

  Sara froze, a vicious growl bubbling up from low in her gut. “The name is Ms. Morrighan. You call me Mrs. again and I will squeeze your balls until you’re dead. Now throw the fuckin’ bags in the hall.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” The driver hustled Miki’s bags away.

  “Well, I’m glad to see you finally got your aggression under control.”

  Arms around each other they walked back toward the house. “I think he does that shit on purpose.”

  “What’s the big deal? You are going to marry him, right?”

  “Why?” And Sara actually meant that. “I mean, we’re marked. It’s not like either of us is going anywhere. Besides…” She held up her right arm, a stunning tribal
tattoo covered most of it. “We got matching ink.”

  Sara and Zach were definitely an interesting couple. Miki was still recovering from Sara’s call five months before when she excitedly told her friend she and Zach had “done the deed”. Miki thought that meant they’d rushed off to get married. But leave it to Sara…they’d both gone to the hospital and gotten sterilized. Perfectly matched shapeshifters who never wanted to breed. It was kind of sweet in a bizarre paranormal kind of way.

  “Such a beautiful declaration of love. You’re like rock stars now.”

  “Sarcastic bitch. God, I missed that.”

  Sara grabbed Miki’s jacket and dragged her into the house. Miki had never seen Sara with so much energy. And the woman couldn’t stop smiling. Finally Sara found where she belonged and Miki couldn’t be happier for her.

  “So whatcha think of the house?”

  “I think it’s a fuckin’ mansion.”

  “Yeah, I guess. But it needs a porch.”

  Once inside, Miki gawked, her mouth open in awe. It was more amazing inside than out. Their hallway actually had marble floors and mile-high ceilings. A winding stairway sat opposite from the huge oak doors that led into the sunken living room.

  “Your room is up those stairs. Second door on the left. This is the living room. It’s got a gigantic TV. I watch all the football games on that.” Sara dragged her down the hallway. “This here’s the kitchen. Nice, huh?”

  “Shame you can’t cook.”

  “Excuse me, but I make a mean chicken and dumplings.”

  “And that’s all you make.”

  Miki suddenly found herself in another Sara hug. The girl had really gotten strong and clearly hadn’t quite learned how to control it. Much more and she’d crack Miki’s ribs.

  “I missed you so much.”

  “Sara—”

  “And I can’t wait until Angie gets here. Then the three of us will be back together again.”

  “You’re killing me.”

  “Oh. Sorry.” Sara quickly released her. “Hey. I gotta introduce you to somebody. Hold on.” Sara ran outside and Miki looked around the stainless steel kitchen with its Italian tile. She whistled in appreciation.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  She screamed and jumped back about three feet. “Fuck, Zach! Make some goddamn noise, why don’t ya?”

  “Get used to it, sweetness. We all do it.”

  They both sneered at each other.

  Zach looked her up and down. “Nice boots.”

  Miki picked up an orange from a bowl on the counter. She tossed it across the enormous room. “Go get it, boy! Go get it!”

  Zach gritted his teeth, his eyes narrowing dangerously. She wondered what Sara had made him promise to keep him from coming across the counter for her. This could prove to be fun.

  “So, Zach.” She grinned. “Where are your old Alphas, Yates and Casey? Or did you just kill ‘em, eat their carcasses, suck the marrow from their bones, and then roll around in your own filth in an orgy of blood and death?”

  Zach glared at her.

  “What?” She shrugged innocently. “I’m just askin’.”

  “They’re in DC opening a new club, you psychotic little…”

  Miki chuckled, ignoring whatever he was calling her and turned back to the glass sliding doors. She saw Sara calling something over.

  “Oh, dear God!” Miki spun away, turning to Zach in horror. “What the hell is that?”

  “That’s her dog.”

  “Dear God, man, what were you thinking? You can’t let that thing in your house. It’s a mutant!”

  “She found it on the side of the highway. Had to have it.”

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “Nothing, really. Except for his short stubby front legs, his very long back legs, and freakishly large head. His sloping back. And, of course, he’s missing an eye.”

  Sara returned, tragically with the dog. “And this is your Aunt Miki.” Miki stared down at the beast. “Mik. This is Roscoe T. Budsworth.”

  “Roscoe T. Budsworth? That’s the best you could do?”

  “That’s a wonderful name. It has prestige.”

  Zach looked down at the dog. “No matter what you call him that is still one ugly fucking dog.”

  Sara glared at Zach as she leaned over and covered up Roscoe’s long, floppy ears. “You be nice to him!”

  “You’re lucky I’m being nice to her.” Zach glared at Miki. “Later, Tinker Bell.”

  “Later, jackoff.”

  With one last glare, Zach walked out of the kitchen.

  Sara crouched down next to Roscoe and rubbed his shiny coat. “You told him to go fetch, didn’t you?

  “I didn’t actually use those words…”

  Chapter Three

  Miki fell face first onto her bed. Huge and so soft, it would be like sleeping on clouds. And it smelled wonderful. She buried her nose into the comforter and breathed in deep. Okay. She’d admit it. A body could get used to living like this. Easily.

  She’d spent the last four hours with Sara in the kitchen. They ate biscuits and drank buttermilk while playing with that amazingly sweet, but disturbing-to-look-at dog.

  And not once had Conall stopped by. Which was good, dammit. No matter what Sara and Angelina thought, she wasn’t about to hook up with Conall Víga-Feilan, present-day Viking. No way. No day.

  She’d learned the hard way that love and sex and all the rest of it was bullshit. A distraction from the bigger picture. Her mother had been planning on college in the hopes of going to medical school. Then she’d met Miki’s father. One illegitimate baby later and she was working herself to death to put food on the table while her own mother took care of Miki. But Miki had no intention of going down that road. So her bigger picture would be the next three days. Everything else would take a back seat to that.

  At the moment, the Pack was downstairs ordering Chinese food and Miki had taken the opportunity to come up to her room and take a shower. She felt grungy after her day in the airport and on the plane, and she still had a full night planned. They were all going to one of the Pack’s clubs for some serious dancing and partying. She’d tried to back out of it, but Sara fought her hard, insisting that Miki needed to relax.

  But Miki couldn’t relax until she was done. And since she would probably only get two or three hours of sleep anyway, killing some time at a club couldn’t hurt.

  She thought about the Pack. They were all so sweet to her…except Zach. And they seemed to really love Sara…especially Zach. She got the feeling life with the old Alphas, Yates and Casey, was a little too stifling for the Pack. Zach tossed around the phrase “free choice” a lot, and Sara didn’t like to be bothered with what everybody was up to as long as the Pack remained protected.

  Miki realized now she’d foolishly stayed away from her friend all these months. Being back with Sara, talking and bullshitting, was all she really needed to make her feel one hundred percent better. Now she felt ready to defend her dissertation and start her new life.

  That, however was a concern for later. Right now Miki wasn’t ready to do too much of anything. So, still lying face down, she tried to kick off her shoes. Unfortunately, they were boots and she’d laced them up pretty tight. She grumbled in annoyance and for some idiotic reason kept trying to kick one off with the help of the other, feeling way too lazy to actually get up and take her shoes off like a civilized person.

  But when she felt strong, firm hands wrap around her boot and begin to unlace it, she jerked in surprise. Pushing herself up on her hands, Miki looked over her shoulder. Conall was at the foot of the bed—on his knees—untying her laces. She had no idea how long he’d been standing there watching her, but her entire body got warm at the thought.

  “Hey, Miki.” He didn’t look up, simply kept untying her laces. And, even though he couldn’t see the fronts of her boots, was probably taking a lot longer than actually necessary.

  “Hey, Conall.”

&
nbsp; “How’s it going? You have a good trip?”

  Miki had to swallow to get the words out. “Yeah.” Okay. One word. Apparently she couldn’t manage any better at the moment. All the guy was doing was helping her off with her boots. Of course, he was on his knees doing it. She kind of liked him on his knees.

  Get a grip, Kendrick.

  She needed to start talking. Now. “How’s it going with you?”

  He still didn’t look up; instead, watching his own big hands slowly remove one boot then start on the other. His hair, thick and almost white blonde, fell in front of his face. Like hers, it was longer than when she last saw him, just brushing across his shoulders. His hair reminded her of silk and she wondered if it would feel that way against her skin.

  “Pretty good,” he murmured softly.

  He slid the other boot off and placed it aside. Leaning back on his haunches, he ran his hands over her calves and feet while staring at her face. He had the lightest blue eyes she’d ever seen and they completely mesmerized her.

  “Anything else you need help taking off?” he asked gruffly.

  Miki almost said “everything” but caught herself. She pulled her feet away from Conall’s wonderful touch and pulled herself up to her knees. Smirking, she gave a little wave. “No. I’m fine. But thanks.” He slowly stood, his eyes never leaving her face. Still on her knees, she moved back away from him as his body kept rising. She’d forgotten exactly how tall he was. And exactly how big. In some respects, the man was a bear.

  So busy staring and trying to stay away from him, Miki fell right off the bed.

  “Miki?” She looked up to find him on the bed, hovering over her. “Are you okay?” He didn’t even try to stifle his laughter. Great. Now he could see exactly the level of her geekiness. It was off the charts, she knew. Well, that should convince him she was definitely not the woman for him. A guy like Conall should get some vacuous supermodel babe who couldn’t complete a full sentence or even spell sentence.

  “I’m fine.” She sat up, but before she could struggle to her feet, Conall moved around the bed to stand behind her. His big hands slid under her arms and lifted her off the floor as if she weighed no more than a bag of chips.

  “Uh…thanks,” she bit out as her feet touched solid ground. She tried to pull away from him, but he wasn’t letting her go. Instead, he pulled her back until he held her against his chest. His arms slid around her body and he leaned in close, gently trapping her arms against her sides. If this were anybody else, she would have completely flipped out. They’d be lucky if they had their eyes when she was done. But she couldn’t even concentrate when Conall had his hands on her.