Alpha Wolf
Michael undid his seatbelt. “Let’s go inside.”
Scarlett sighed, leaning her head against the window.
Michael paused as he raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s going on?”
“I really don’t want to leave the car.”
He laughed, one loud “ha” that vibrated through the car. “Scarlett, I had no idea when I got this for you that you were going to have separation anxiety about a motor vehicle.”
“Make fun if you must but…”
He interrupted. “Oh, I must.”
“Fine.” Turning off the engine, she opened the door and stepped out. Using the remote control on her keychain, she locked the car. Then she locked it again. And again.
“Are you going to get OCD about this?”
Oh no, you’re making him mad. Her wolf hid her face under her paws.
She grinned. “My wolf thinks I’m making you mad.”
He shook his head. “She’s going to have to get used to my teasing you.”
“What are we doing here, anyway?”
With all the excitement of being taken to the dealership and then bought a car, she’d neglected to ask him what he wanted to do at Joe’s. Personally, she’d hoped to be done with this place now that the proprietor was dead. Her hands still shook a little bit and she hoped the occurrences of her withdrawals would cease soon. Although, she supposed it could be much worse. She wasn’t stuck at home vomiting or shaking under the covers.
I’d like to go home.
Her poor wolf. Maybe they were going to have to attend some sort of counseling together.
Michael answered her question as they walked through the front door of the shop. Well, maybe it would be more accurate to say that Michael broke into the shop by pushing at the door until it gave way.
“I don’t like how much he knew about the death of that witch.”
Scarlett remembered Joe had briefly spoken about the witch the Westervelt Wolves had killed. Michael still felt a little ill about it.
“It bothers you that you ordered her death.”
He sighed. “It doesn’t bother me she is dead or that I had to order her death to save Tristan. No, what bothers me was that it was one more bloodstain. Thirty-five years ago more than half my pack was butchered because of a curse. At some point, the bloodshed has to end.” Looking at her, he rubbed his nose. “That’s why I can’t be Alpha. Because I would say ‘enough’ and an Alpha never can.”
For her part, she was glad he wasn’t. “You’re Alpha enough for me.”
Pulling her into his embrace, he kissed her. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
They walked together, stepping over the broken glass that now littered the floor. “Looks as if the group wasn’t satisfied with just killing Joe. They made a mess of the whole thing.”
“It was smart actually. The cops will think robbery.”
A thought dawned on her and her stomach fell. “Are we going to find Joe’s dead body?” She closed her eyes, trying to stem off the nausea at the thought.
“No.”
She exhaled and opened her eyes. That was a relief. “How do you know?”
“Use your nose. Do you smell rotting corpse in this building?”
Taking a deep breath, she extended her sense of smell as far as it went. There were a lot of disgusting things in here, rotting food, urine and somewhere on the street someone had puked but no dead body.
Michael kept speaking. “You’ve always had your ability to scent. The rest of the things you inherited when you got your wolf you’ll have to get used to but not that. If you learn to trust yourself, you’re ten steps ahead.”
That was true, but it was also easier said than done. “Okay, I’ll work on it.”
“Or don’t. You’re pretty perfect as you are.”
She swatted his arm. “Michael Kane, you’re going to give me a big head.”
“If that was possible, I’d work on it.”
“What are we looking for in here?” The sooner she got out of the building the better. Joe had received real pack justice here. She’d seen it before and coming back on the scene gave her the creeps. It was too soon since his death. Maybe she had an overactive imagination, but she always felt as if places that had seen violence held onto for it a while.
“His computer.”
“You’re going to hack into his computer?”
He coughed and let go of her hand as they approached the back office with Joe’s desk. “It’s stale in here, isn’t it? If I could, I’d open a window. Anyway, no, I don’t know how to do that.” Looking back at her, he had a crooked smile. “Weren’t you the one who pointed out I must have a decrepit brain at my advanced age?”
“Okay, you’ve got memory loss and I’m obsessive compulsive about the car. We make a great team.”
“We do.”
“So what are you going to do with the computer?”
“Pick it up and bring it back to Westervelt in the back of the car so my friend, Malcolm, who is a security expert, can break in and tell me what it says about how the witches know our business.”
That made sense. As Michael unplugged and then grabbed the computer like it weighed nothing and walked toward the front door, she picked up some of the notebooks strewn around just in case they proved to be important later.
Following Michael out the door, she turned around to shut it behind them .It was broken now and for some reason she still felt the need to close it like it could seal. She couldn’t help but feel that this was more than just a moment of leaving the store. No, it was the last time she’d see this place.
A slight drizzle of rain had started while they were in the store. It was typical New Orleans for the summer. If you didn’t like the weather, wait a minute. She raised her head to the sky, letting the light drips hit her on the face.
I want to go home. Her wolf whimpered.
We’re not going back there anymore. This is goodbye. Doesn’t it feel that way?
This was never home. This was why I didn’t come. We need to go home.
Somehow this didn’t surprise her. She walked toward Michael. Where is home?
Get in the car with Michael; he’ll take us there.
That was settled. Her wolf had wanted to be there in the first place.
Michael leaned against the car still holding the computer. “Pop the trunk for me?”
She pushed the button on the remote and the trunk opened. That was so fun.
He placed the computer into the compartment and she pressed the button again to close it.
Walking toward her, he stopped and leaned on the car. “Ready to go?”
“More than.”
And that was the truth.
* * * *
They pulled up to Cole’s house. She turned off the car and got out, locking it behind her. Just once this time, even though she thought a few times about hitting the button again. If it was silent she might do it, but Michael would hear the telltale chirp the car made when she pushed the button and know she was giving into her mania about the car again.
She was going to make her obsession her own private little thing. She’d never had anything like it before; if she wanted to, she could privately worry over its care.
They walked together toward the house. Michael turned to look at her. “How many do you think realistically are coming with us? I can’t imagine it’s more than ten. Who would want to put themselves through Westervelt hell if they didn’t have to?”
She would. But she didn’t say that aloud to him. Michael wasn’t taking his own advice. He ignored his sense of smell and his hearing. He was nervous, she could tell from the way his shoulders were rigid and the sound of his jaw clenching.
If he’d done what he told her to do, if he didn’t ignore his wolf, he’d know exactly how many people waited in the house to come to Maine.
Every single one of them.
Just before they opened the door, the scent must have become too much for Michael to pretend he couldn’t tell
the number.
When Michael moved to look at her, she couldn’t help beaming at him. He had no idea what he’d done to her pack. They needed him, not like she did, in an entirely different way.
He might be bringing them to Tristan for the other man to lead, but it was Michael they counted on right now.
That was what he was at his core: absolutely dependable and just the person you wanted with you in a crisis. He was hers. He was magnificent.
Even if he didn’t know it.
When he spoke to her, it was with a gruff voice and she realized instantly how much emotion he hid from the world. She could feel it, as if it were her own.
“This is going to be a logistical nightmare. How am I going to transport them all across country?”
“I’ll take care of everything.”
This type of endeavor, she was good at.
Chapter 11
MICHAEL was more grateful to Scarlett than he could express. She really handled everything. He wondered if she knew how remarkable it was that she’d done that. Even as she’d stared downward and stubbornly looked no one in the eye except him, she’d managed to take a head count—the number forty-five still blew his mind—figured out who had cars, how many people could fit in each and sent a group to the grocery store to purchase enough food to feed everyone for two days. If they all slept in shifts, stopped minimally and ate in the car they could be at the dock waiting for the Westervelt boat in just over twenty-nine hours.
So far the plan had gone without a hitch. He was supposed to be sleeping. It was Marvin’s turn to drive Scarlett’s car. After she’d obsessed about letting him drive, which had gone on constantly somewhere between Chattanooga until they’d approached West Virginia when she’d finally conked out.
He opened his eyes, figuring Marvin and the two other wolves—Chester and Liam—knew he was awake anyway. It had been so much easier to fly down.
“I still haven’t told Tristan we’re coming.” He needed to, considering they were about fifteen hours away.
“You could do what I do when I want to get out of having an actual conversation.” Marvin glanced in his direction before turning his eyes back to the road.
“What’s that?”
“Send him a text message and then turn off the phone.”
Actually, that would be kind of funny. He wouldn’t do it to Tristan, though. No, that brother had too much on his plate being Alpha. Theo, however…the idea had possibility. Smiling at the thought, even as he knew he wouldn’t do it, he pulled Scarlett’s cell phone out of her purse. His was long gone, having been lost in one of the shifts during the fights that had gone down in New Orleans. That was the problem with the shifting process. Your clothes were magically destroyed and anything in the pockets went poof right along with them.
He dialed Tristan’s number. It rang three times and his brother answered. Even over the phone he could tell he was tired.
“My Alpha.”
It was the formal way to address his younger brother. Respectful and certainly something Tristan had earned.
“My brother. What number is this? I almost didn’t pick up.”
Michael laughed. “Sorry, Trip, have you been getting a lot of telemarketers?”
“Well, no. However, generally I know the numbers that come up. Ashlee programmed this thing for me. It normally says ‘Michael’ if you’re calling.”
If Michael wasn’t careful, this was all they were going to talk about. “It’s my mate’s phone.”
“That’s right. Theo told us you were mated. Congratulations. I assume you’re bringing her here since our missing sister has vanished.”
Michael swallowed. “I am.”
“What time does your flight get in?”
“We’re not flying.”
Ah…hell.
Just tell him. Scarlett’s voice in his head startled him and he turned around noticing for the first time her amber eyes open and regarding him.
“Did you decide you needed some kind of road trip?”
Every once in a while someone in the pack taught his brother some slang. Unlike the rest of them, Tristan had always been so serious; he’d never learned the vernacular that was used even during his own childhood. When he said things like “road trip”, it made the rest of them want to crack up. Not that they would, they just kind of silently snickered.
Michael often wondered if Tristan knew and that was why he did it.
Blinking, he finally spoke. “Something has happened, my Alpha.”
“We’re back to ‘My Alpha’ that must mean it’s a serious something. Tell me what it is.”
“When I got down here, I found the pack in total chaos. Nero had just died and two rival factions competed to take his space. One was worse than the other but they were both bad. My mate had been sorely abused.”
“Abused how?”
Looking up at the rearview mirror, he saw her face and she glanced down. Tell him. He’ll be my Alpha, he should know.
“Physically and sexually. Scarlett was so beat up when I got here she could barely walk or speak.”
Staring at her now, since she’d shifted and found the magic that came with a wolf, she seemed better. Her bruises faded more every second.
Tristan growled. “Did you kill them?”
Adjusting the phone, he regarded Marvin. The other shifter did a good job of not making eye contact with him, as did the two wolves in the backseat. Even Scarlett acted as if she gave him privacy by not speaking aloud. He was more than cognizant of the fact that everyone in the car could hear Tristan as well as he could. There was no such thing as shifter privacy.
“I killed one after he attacked me. I beat the other one in a fight and sent him away.”
“I would have killed both of them.”
Michael knew this to be true. That’s why Tristan was Tristan and Michael was Michael.
“Anyway, I tried to teach the pack some of the right ways to behave. They really took to the lessons.”
Tristan laughed. “I’m not surprised. You taught me. No one understands Pack better than you. That’s why you’ll always be one of our top Alphas. Men follow you. You’re a born leader even though you have no interest in being supreme Alpha.”
“They’re all coming home with me. They insisted. They’re all swearing allegiance to you.”
Silence met him on the other end of the phone and he looked up to make eye contact with Scarlett again. She smiled at him in what he thought seemed like a reassuring manner.
“You explained what the situation is here?”
Michael closed his eyes. “More than once.”
“And they still wanted to come?”
“Yes.”
He heard Tristan’s footsteps in the background. Seconds later, he heard a door swing open and the sounds of outdoors filled the phone. “Then that’s fine. I’m always glad for more Pack.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“Then why do you sound like you still want to vomit?”
There was no point in stalling. Inside of him, his wolf had laid down. Brother or no brother, phone or in person, Tristan was a forced to be reckoned with. Even over the phone, his power could make Michael’s wolf tremble from the magic he produced. “I haven’t told you how many there are.”
“How many?”
“Forty-five.”
He waited for Tristan’s explosion. Nothing but the sound of the Alpha’s breathing could be heard.
Finally, Michael’s younger brother spoke. “How far away are you?”
Studying the GPS in the car, Michael answered. “About fifteen hours.”
“Ashlee is going to freak out having to get everything ready, but we’ll make it happen.”
“You’re not going to comment on the number?”
Tristan laughed. “I’m overwhelmed. Once again, you have saved us.”
Michael blinked. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Theo told you about Dad’s numbers. There was no way we st
ood a chance, but now that you found us more people who want to join us, we might.” Tristan’s voice had a tremor and Michael had to blink away his own tears. He turned his head, not that it helped, so the others in the car couldn’t see him.
“They have to be trained. They’re adults but they’ve no instruction—”
Tristan interrupted. “We’ll teach them.”
“They’re anxious to learn.”
“You always do this, Michael, you always come through for us when all hope is lost.”
Michael shook his head. “I don’t, my Alpha.” If anything, he was a constant failure.
“You held us together for thirty years while I floundered. You saved my life when I was cursed. You endured Dad’s wrath over and over again so I wouldn’t have to.”
“Tristan, I—”
His brother interrupted. “Call me when you’re an hour away.”
With that, his Alpha disconnected their conversation.
“He’s wonderful.”
Scarlett’s voice was warm water flowing over his body on a cold night. It was heaven.
“He is.”
“Mostly because he recognizes how good you were.”
Michael wasn’t sure what he’d ever done to deserve so many people loving him. He would take it, nonetheless.
* * * *
Standing in front of the dock waiting for the boat to come back and take the next group over to Westervelt, Michael pulled Scarlett up against him.
“You okay?”
She’d been quiet since they’d arrived. Of course, that might be because there was so much organizing to get the boat situation handled.
“I am. I need to tell you something.”
“Sure.”
She bit down on her lip. “You know how I can see things? How I can see a story that someone tells, if they’ve lived the story?”
“Yes.”
“I saw the day you ordered the witch killed.”
He raised his eyebrows and let go of her. Taking two steps toward the water he found that this time he was the one who couldn’t meet her gaze. So she knew the full extent of what he’d done. She’d seen with her eyes that he’d ordered the wretched woman killed and bled to save Tristan’s life.