Black Wolf's Revenge (3 page)

And there, time stretched like the shadows that had consumed his life the moment Morgan fled. Days and nights flitted by in dependable rhythm. The days no longer mattered when he was Wolf. And with each sunset, he lost a little more of himself to the animal. The human in him became an irritant, easily ignored, and pretty soon, he didn’t care if the softer parts of him were present at all. If he was going to survive the heartbreak, it was Wolf who would have to carry him.

He lived as Wolf, not giving in to that obtrusive human emotion that made him weak. Nothing he could do as a human would make any of the pain better. Wolf was the only one who understood his loss--the only one who could help.

No more family. No more pack. No more purpose.

The more time that passed, the easier it became to let it go, for it held no meaning to Wolf if it didn’t involve the changing of the seasons. Night turned into day and then turned to night again. He slept when tired, hunted when hungry, and drank when thirsty. The only time he cared about was the rhythm of his body and its needs. He explored every square inch of his new territory and claimed as much. It was the place where he would grow old, and it gave him consolation-prize comfort. At least he had a place to defend.

This land, cloaked in a dangerous beauty, offered a new start for a monster destined to be alone.

* * * *

A relentless pulsating woke Grey. It was no longer the ignorable offense that had started as a drumming ache days before. The burn was throbbing through every bone, every muscle fiber, singing its discontent with his choices. It was hard to get up, and when a back-cracking stretch didn’t help, even Wolf conceded it was time to change back. As much as the beast inside dominated his life, he still wasn’t meant to be in one form for too long. He limped slowly back to the edge of Dean’s property and back under the wire fence separating the property lines. Not even the sting of the metal barbs claiming a chunk of skin and fur could override the pounding in his build.

Dean’s backyard made the perfect place to Change. The transformation took ten minutes before he slipped into human skin once again, eternity as each bone broke and reshaped. When he was finished, he lay there waiting for his body to feel like his own. Clenching his jaw, he shoved himself upward and staggered on his feet. What a strange sensation, walking upright again. His fingers were clumsy and useless and his feet didn’t work efficiently. His balance was unsteady as he moved toward his truck. On the porch, he found his clothes washed and folded neatly on the railing. Leaves littered the top layer like they’d been lying ready for some time. He dressed slowly, careful of skin that still sparked with an uncomfortable sensation at the slightest touch. He pulled himself into the driver’s side of his truck and closed the door.

His patience thinned as he inhaled. Where he’d expected leather and the tree-shaped air freshener that dangled from the rearview mirror, something soft and feminine filled the cab instead. “Marissa, get out.”

“I can’t stay here.” Her voice shook and she smelled of sorrow. “Logan and Jason are coming over later today, and I don’t want to be here when they get here. They won’t leave me alone.” Misery drenched every word.

Grey sighed heavily and leaned his head against the steering wheel. He got it. He really did. She was way too young when she’d been Turned, and now she had two wolves waiting on her to become old enough to choose a mate. That was a lot of pressure, and she hated being around them. And for whatever harebrained reason, she thought she was safer around Grey. A youthful mistake or desperation or, hell, he didn’t know. But right now, he was two breaths shy of a colossal meltdown and he didn’t need witnesses. “Kid, I’ve got nothing left. I am the last person on earth that has an icicle’s chance in hell of fixing anyone’s life for them right now.” He rolled his head toward her and let his exhaustion show. “Surely you can see I’m not myself.”

“I don’t want anything from you but a ride, Grey. I don’t want to talk either. Just ignore me if you like. Mr. Brennan called here asking for you. He said you weren’t picking up your phone. Go figure.” She handed him a handwritten list from her position in the back seat. “He said you need this stuff to close tomorrow. The meeting is at two o’clock. The address is on there too.”

Shit. He had been out for two weeks? No wonder his body hated him. He tried to get a feel for Wolf, but the animal inside of him had apparently been sated with running the woods so long and was content and quiet. Maybe he’d understood the importance of closing on the land they’d made an offer on. Eric Brennan, his realtor, had explained there was another interested buyer. If he had stayed a wolf just one more day, he could’ve lost the place his instincts said was his. He shook his head at the churning thought that Wolf could keep an appointment. Up until now, he’d thought his beast mindless.

The stiff leather of the seat squeaked as he relaxed into it and scanned the scribbled list. Most of the paperwork he needed was from the bank, but since he was paying cash and not taking a loan out, it was doable to get everything done before tomorrow. He’d have to meet at Stewart Title Company and sign the papers tomorrow, and if all went well, he’d own the land he’d become so connected to in less than a day. Nervous that the people he had to meet tomorrow would see what a fraud he was and give the land to someone else had him clenching the small list with a shaking hand. This had to go right. A hot shower and big dinner would have to wait a while longer. “I have errands to run. You can come along if you want, but on one condition. You call Dean right now and tell him where you are and why you want to come with me.”

With a muttered, “Yes, sir,” she made the call. After she hung up, she handed him the wooden box he’d carved for Morgan with the black velvet ring holder inside. “I kept it safe for you.”

He nodded and shoved it into the glove box and rubbed his eyes. It had been a grueling change and they were dry. With a quick glance at the girl in the back seat, he shoved the truck into first gear and eased his foot onto the gas.

If he’d been in a laughing mood, he would have at least cracked a smile that Marissa felt safe enough around him to skitter closer when the growing line at the bank caved in on her. The damned line was out the door and people were trying to escape the winter chill by crowding the place. He put on sunglasses and swallowed a growl for a man who elbowed Marissa by accident. Eventually, he gave in and shoved her in front of his body to keep the line from pushing.

Holding the door open for her as they left, he asked, “Did you eat lunch yet?” The paperwork he held clutched in his hand fluttered in the breeze as he climbed into the truck behind Marissa.

“Yeah, earlier, but I’m hungry again,” she admitted.

“What do you feel like?”

“Food. I don’t care. Whatever you want.”

He pulled into the parking lot of a burger joint and ordered a couple of cheeseburgers each and fries with soft drinks to wash it all down. They carried the bags of food to a picnic table out behind the restaurant. It was chilly, but he could rarely eat inside of restaurants. The smell of fast food and grease was so overpowering, it was hard to smell anything else. Eating outside kept Wolf’s pissing and moaning to a minimum.

Marissa ate in silence and looked anywhere but at him. When she had swallowed her last bite of burger, she cleared her throat feebly. “Morgan has been to the house a couple of times. She brought Lana with her.” Her green gaze darted to his and then away as her freckled cheeks colored in a soft pink blush. “She tries to act tough, but she is broken.”

The mention of her name gutted him. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. She made her decision and there is nothing I can do about it. Let’s go.”

Heading to the truck, he hopped in before Marissa had even thrown her trash away. Whatever she was playing at, he wanted no part of it.

The small grocery store near his apartment was a ghost town at the odd weekday hour. Grey hadn’t been back to his place in a month, and any food he did have would be long spoiled by then. Marissa didn’t say much as they shopped. She held on to the side of the metal cart until her knuckles were strained and white. He wanted to ask if she was all right, but every instinct in him said she would run if he pushed her to talk about whatever was bothering her. What would cause a child so young to clam up like this?

He opened the door to his apartment and the smell of Morgan hit him like a thick fog. Overwhelmed, he set the bags of groceries down. If it smelled like her, he couldn’t stay here, so he set to work. He removed the sheets, still messed up from Lana jumping on the bed, and threw them all in the wash. Marissa sat on the couch and watched him silently as he removed the pictures of Morgan and Lana from the refrigerator and shoved them in the bottom drawer of his dresser. When he opened the refrigerator, an awful smell hit him directly in the face. Alexis’s bunny gift was where Morgan had put it the month before, rotting despite the cold air. This was where it had started. The beginning of the end for him and Morgan. Alexis, that conniving she-wolf, had brought him a gift all wrapped up in pretty packaging. Inside had been a rabbit she’d killed as a wolf. She’d been brazen about her intentions with a present like that. Alexis wanted him as her mate. It wasn’t a coincidence that she’d given it to him while Morgan was there. Everything that woman did was calculated to cause the most destruction. The smell assaulted his sensitive nose and made his eyes water.

He grabbed the trashcan and shoved everything that was in the refrigerator into it. The smell clung to everything, but at least Morgan’s scent would be masked.

He set the garbage bag by the front door to take out later and wiped down the inside of the fridge. Next, he unloaded the groceries, and Marissa came in to help. A tiny object sticking out from under the bed caught his attention and he went to pick it up. In his large palm lay one of Lana’s little gloves. Anger loosed Wolf and he yelled, throwing the mitten into the wall. He ran his hands through his hair and Marissa disappeared out the front door with the trash bags in hand. For a child, she took hints incredibly well.

He jumped in the shower and let the hot water soothe his screaming muscles. Leaning against the teal-colored tiles, he let the memories of what he’d had wash over him. He couldn’t go forever without thinking about her. She’d been everything once. A man didn’t just get over someone who’d changed the course of his entire existence for the better. He’d lost her. Lana too, and that wound would be held open, unable to heal, for the rest of his miserable existence.

Marissa was asleep on the couch when he got out. Her face was completely relaxed when she slept, and she looked even younger than her thirteen years. When she was awake, she always looked haunted. Like some terror in her life had aged her eyes a hundred years. It was as if she knew so much more than a child should’ve ever been exposed to. But there, lying on the couch, she was fragile and naïve and childlike again.

He cocked his head to the side. When they’d met, Wolf had terrified her. She hadn’t even been able to look directly at him, much less hold a conversation with him until the night Alexis had Turned Morgan. For all the months of fear, it was strange that she felt safe enough around him to fall asleep in his den.

He didn’t want to wake her, so he turned the television down and covered her with the red down blanket that was draped across the back of the couch. He collapsed in his sheetless bed and passed out just as the light of afternoon shifted to that of evening.

Moments later, someone shook him awake. Bright green eyes hovered over his face and he lurched straight up in bed. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m hungry,” Marissa whispered.

Panicked, he searched the dark. Where was he? Where were the trees of the forest and the clean breeze?

“You’re home,” she said, cowering to the edge of the bed. “Everything is okay. I just need food.”

Slowly, his muscles relaxed and he rubbed his hands over his face. “What you need is to go home. Let me find my keys.”

“I already called Dean, and he said I can stay over here if I want to. Logan and Jason are still there, and I don’t want to deal with them.”

“You have to deal with them sometime,” he snapped. “They are in your pack, so you are bound to run into them sooner or later.”

She arched her eyebrow. “I still need food.”

“Fine. We’re going out though. I can’t stand being cooped up in here anymore.” He needed to build a house and right away. Living as a wolf for a couple of weeks had greatly skewed his view on living in his cramped city apartment.

The tiny diner down the street with the eye-scorching neon sign and black and white checkered floors would have to be good enough. The food was terrible there, but it was the only close place he could think of that he hadn’t taken Morgan and Lana. When they slid into the sticky seats of a booth, he ordered them a couple of root beers and flicked the menu in front of his face to deter conversation.

“Have you ever heard the phrase every werewolf has a sob story?” Marissa asked.

He peeked over the menu and narrowed his eyes at her. Maybe he’d been wrong about her ability to take hints. “No,” he said with a sigh. “Why?”

“Did Dean ever tell you why I’m here?”

“Like why you are here on this planet?” he asked, confused.

“No, why I’m here in this pack. I’m from Nevada originally.” At his blank stare, she pressed on. “Okay, did you ever hear about a serial killer a few years back in Nevada? It was before your time, but he was a werewolf, a man-eater, whatever you want to call him. He went on a huge killing spree through three states before the Old Ones were able to track him down and end him. They called him the Lady Killer, because that’s what he was.”

He dropped his gaze back to the menu. Werewolf story time didn’t interest him any more than the picture of greasy chili-cheese fries featured on the plastic in front of him.

“Well, he liked little girls. They were sort of his specialty.”

“Marissa,” he said, putting his menu down. “Is there a point to this story, other than to kill my appetite?”