Omega Moon Rising (Toke Lobo & The Pack) (25 page)

“Nonsense. I’ve got satellite TV. Macy hooked your desktop up to the Internet. You’re savvy enough to do the same.”

“Why?”

“You’re never around when Abigail starts getting pains in her neck. Makes me wonder why.”

“I’m not around a lot when Abby does a lot of things.”

Like feeling the baby move for the first time.

“Humor your old Granny.”

He pulled out the chair across from Abby. The wooden legs squealed as they scraped across the vinyl floor.

No one said anything, but he could feel every eye on him as he worked on getting the laptop tapped into Granny’s satellite. His fingers flew across the keyboard. As Granny had promised, Macy had forged a pathway from Granny’s satellite to the Internet. Another couple of minutes later, Chenz was signed in to an X-rated chat room, where the URLs of particular sites where being hinted at.

He made certain no one was standing behind him. The females of his family didn’t need to see this part of his life.

Someone on the page had written something about “doggie style” so Luke clicked on the provided link.
Whoa.
Not even werewolves did
that
. He would
never
be able to unsee that. Even he had never—he quickly clicked out of the room.

Perspiration beaded on his forehead. Granny always kept her house—especially the kitchen—far too warm. He rolled up the sleeves of his flannel shirt. Wiped his brow with his forearm.

Who’d have thought working for the FBI would be such a public thing?

He popped onto another page, Sweet Young Things, and scrolled through the thumbnails. He really didn’t want to open one, but his family watched closely, expecting who knew what.

Oh. That girl was lovely.

“Ouch!” Abby clamped her hand on the side of her throat.

Luke abandoned his laptop and leapt over the table. “What? What is it? Is it the baby?”

“This is work?” Colette asked, her voice a squeak, as she turned the computer and peered at the screen. “Luke Thibodaux Omega. This is revolting.”

“Colette,” Marcus said with a warning note in his tone.

“Abs, what’s going on?” Luke asked.

“It hurts,” she whimpered.

Luke pulled her hand away and peered at the tender, pale flesh. He couldn’t see anything.

“It doesn’t hurt now,” Abby said.

“Because Luke’s not looking at pictures of other women and thinking about sex with them,” Granny announced.

“I wasn’t thinking about having sex with them.” Granny was getting senile. His fingers caressed the spot Abby claimed had hurt. He liked kissing that spot, and if there hadn’t been an audience of his parents and grandmothers he might have nuzzled Abby a little bit. A little nuzzling never hurt anyone.

“That’s her marking spot,” Granny said. “I think you marked her without even realizing it.”

Luke straightened. “I think I would have known if I’d marked my mate.”

Abby couldn’t be his mate. Couldn’t. Because a mate was supposed to help a male reach his full potential, and Luke’s goal was reclaiming the Thibodaux name and heritage. There was nothing Abby could do to assist with that. Otherwise, he wouldn’t think twice. He liked her. A lot. The taste and smell of her drove him out of his mind. He loved sex with her. He couldn’t wait until Rosie Dawn was born, and he was a father.

The erectile dysfunction meds had turned out to be a real bad idea. They confused everyone into believing Abby was his mate.

“Then explain this pain she has in her marking spot whenever you lust after other females?” Granny asked.

He looked around the table at the well-loved faces. His parents clearly believed Granny’s crackpot theory. What did they want from him? An admission of something he hadn’t done? Wouldn’t he know if Abigail was his mate? The mating instinct was never wrong. That’s what he’d been taught from adolescence. That’s what he’d witnessed, even the times when he would have sworn the coupling impossible, as with Tokarz and Delilah or Stoker and Lucy.

Stoker and Lucy. Luke had been with Stoker the night his front paw became unusable due to a mysterious pain. They’d been trying to dig under a stockade fence to rescue an imprisoned Lucy, when Stoker had had to stop. And when comparing notes later, they’d learned that was the same moment Lucy’s captor had smashed her hand with a gunstock in order to steal her diamond engagement ring.

This wasn’t the same thing at all. Was it?

Except he was hard. He almost always had an erection when he was around Abby. As if she was his mate. Maybe he had bitten her the night of the picnic. Being inside her had knocked him senseless for a while.

“Don’t worry about it,” Abby said in a low, calm voice. “Your grandmother only wants you to do right by me. She’s been among werewolves so long she’s forgotten that by human standards, you already have.”

Abby pushed away from the table. Stood. Her head was high, balanced by her chin. She brushed the stubble on his cheek with her cool lips “Good night, Luke. Granny, Colette, Marcus.”

The only sound in the kitchen after Abby left was the hum of the refrigerator and the muted ticking of the clock Granny insisted on having. Everyone stared at him. Luke did not have time for this. He glared at Granny and his dad, and then sat in front of the laptop again. “If you don’t mind, I need to get back to work.”

“Do you want a lift back to your place?” his father asked.

That would have been the thing to do, but for some reason, he didn’t want to leave Abby. Not tonight. She’d been gracious to him after he’d been a total jerk to her earlier. He simply wanted to be with her. Needed to be close to her.

Chapter 21

Abby awoke with Luke’s arms flung across her torso. His erection was pressed against her bottom. She hadn’t heard him come to bed and wasn’t happy he felt he was welcome there.

Abby extracted herself and wandered into the kitchen, where she found Granny dishing out oatmeal to Libby and Macy.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Granny asked.

“Like I haven’t had enough sleep. Macy, could I ask a huge favor of you? Would you mind driving Libby and me to Oak Moon today?”

Libby’s eyes lit.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Granny asked. “As far as I know, your stepfather’s murderer hasn’t been caught.”

“It’s broad daylight.”

“When most self-respecting werewolves are sleeping,” Macy added.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Macy laughed. “Your bodyguards are resting.”

“Bodyguards?”

“Luke asked Tokarz for extra protection for both you and your sister as soon as he found out what was going on. That’s who scared off the intruder at Marcus’s house the other night.”

“It wasn’t an intruder,” Libby said. “It was Uncle Dougie, coming to get me. He misses me.”

Abby forced herself to ignore Libby. She had to, for her sanity. “Libby and I have things we need to do in Oak Moon. That’s our home. That’s where our friends are. That’s where our parents are buried. Everyone thinks we’re holed up in Loup Garou. We’ll be fine.”

“Can we visit Mama’s and Daddy’s graves?” Libby asked.

Abby didn’t know how werewolves felt about venerating their dead ancestors, but she was getting a clue as to how important living family was to them. Maybe Macy would respect her need to visit the cemetery.

“I have plans today,” Macy said, “but I know someone who might be free to go with you.” She exchanged a look with her mother, a look Abby couldn’t interpret, but did not like.

Restin Garnier stared at Abby with crazy blue eyes; eyes as big as a cold January morning.

Macy hadn’t done her any favors by contacting the pack beta to escort her and Libby to Oak Moon, but Abby couldn’t back out now.

Restin didn’t speak a single word to Abby or Libby as he drove down the mountain. Libby was bubbly enough for everyone in the Grand Cherokee.

The family headstone had been updated with the date of their mother’s death. Joseph and Tina Grant. Daughters Tabitha and Gabriella. All the deaths, etched there in stone. Digger Sendall was fast and thorough.

“We forgot flowers,” Libby said.

Abby didn’t remind her they had no money to purchase flowers; besides, it was October. Flowers wouldn’t last long enough to justify their purchase.

Mama
,
I’m in over my head. I don’t know what to do. I thought I was protecting Libby from Gary, but he played all of us for a fool. Give me a sign, Mama. Give me a sign about what I’m supposed to do. Please.

Restin stayed with the Jeep while Libby and Abby studied the markers. Aspen leaves rattled like bones in the wind, both overhead and scuttling around their ankles. He opened the car door for them when they were ready to leave, and didn’t argue when Abby directed him to the little house on Silver Moon Terrace.

Yellow crime scene tape fluttered in the breeze. It never occurred to Abby that she and Libby might not be able to go inside. This was their home.

“It’s like a TV show,” Libby said.

“Was it bad inside?” Abby asked Restin.

He avoided a direct answer. “You can hire cleaners when the feds are done.”

Something else requiring money she didn’t have.

The mailbox was empty, which couldn’t be right. On the other hand, the postman couldn’t cross the yellow tape any more than she could. “What about the mail?” She didn’t want to miss something important—maybe the pornographers mailed checks to Gary for his services. She didn’t know. Gary had always picked up the mail.

“We can stop by the post office and see if they’re holding it for you.” Restin’s dark, shoulder-length curls blew into his face. He swiped at them with impatient hands.

“I appreciate you helping me out, even if it was in vain,” Abby said.

Restin shrugged.

Abby turned to climb back into Restin’s Grand Cherokee when a familiar truck pulled up. Luke hopped out. He didn’t look happy.

“What’s going on here?”

Abby lifted her chin. “Macy asked Restin to drive us.”

“You don’t ask Macy to do things for you. You ask me.” He jabbed his chest with his thumb. He turned on Restin. “You can leave now.”

“What difference does it make?” Abby asked.

“You’re married to
me
.”

“You were up all night working. I thought you needed to sleep.”

“You cut me out of too much. You never told me you felt the baby move.”

He had her there. They never had a minute alone. Part of that was her doing.

Restin crossed his arms and leaned against the fender of his Jeep. “Macy thought it best to send a bodyguard with them rather than bring them down herself.”

Luke’s scowl didn’t fade.

Abby was annoyed. Macy could have told her the truth instead of saying she had other plans. These werewolves played loose and fast with reality.

“Thanks,” Luke grumbled. “I’ve got it now.”

“You sure?”

Luke bared his teeth.

Restin shrugged again, and then climbed into his vehicle.

Luke watched him drive away before turning on Abby. “I don’t want you going any place with him again. Got it?”

“No. I don’t. Macy trusts him, so—”

“I don’t give a vampire’s left fang what Macy told you. I don’t like Restin, and I don’t want him anywhere near you or my kid. Understood?”

Abby blinked. “Why?”

“Because I told you I don’t like him. He’s a bully with his own agenda that frequently means nothing good comes from his involvement. I could tell you stories about the scat he pulled with Tokarz and Delilah, with Stoker and Lucy to keep them apart that would make you wonder why he still lived.”

“If I have to have a bodyguard—your idea, not mine—and he’s the only one available, I’m not going to turn down his services,” Abby retorted. “Keeping you and me apart isn’t the issue. I am not your mate. You don’t have the right to bully me.”

Luke narrowed his eyes until they were blue slits sandwiched between his golden lashes. “I am that baby’s father, and I have an obligation to protect both it and you, despite your carelessness.”

“I’m no one’s obligation.” Abby turned and stomped up the porch steps. She didn’t care about the crime scene tape. The authorities should have been done in the house last week. She and Libby were moving home. She’d had all she was going to take of Luke.

She unlocked the door and pushed it open. Luke grabbed her arm, but was too late.

The stench was the first thing to hit her. Like rotting meat. Oh, there were traces of chemicals hanging in the air, but not enough of them to overwhelm the reek of whatever clung to the wall and the sofa.

“What’s that awful smell?” Libby asked.

Abby gagged. Luke yanked her out the house and shoved her head over the side of the porch, then held her as she lost her breakfast, muttering all the while about not contaminating the crime scene.

This wasn’t a crime scene; it was her home. The place she’d grown up. The shelter of all her memories of life before her father’s death. Gary hadn’t been able to taint those memories, and the ones he created in the house didn’t matter. Except maybe his murder.

Luke rubbed her back. Libby cried. Abby should have sent her back to Loup Garou with Restin.

“You okay now?” Luke asked when Abby finished.

She nodded and reached for her sister. Libby buried her face in Abby’s breasts. Hot tears dampened the front of Abby’s sweater.

Luke raked his fingers through his hair, which stood on end as if he hadn’t combed it that day.

“What possessed you to come here?” Luke’s tone was gentler. He didn’t have Restin to impress.

“It was our home,” Abby replied.

“Your home is in Loup Garou, now.”

“Why? So you can make me feel lower than a worm every time someone mentions mating? I’m not the most assertive person in the world, Luke, but I am not a doormat. You’ve scraped your crap on my back long enough.”

He looked stricken. As if she’d twisted his private parts or something.

“I’m not trying to hurt you.” His voice was hoarse. “And that baby is half mine. And—”he shot a quick look at Libby—“You know why I want her raised in Loup Garou.”

There was
that
. There was always
that
. And she was never going to be able to get away from
that
.

Libby pulled away from Abby. “How will Uncle Dougie find me if I’m not here?” Her eyes were bloodshot. Her pale complexion was blotchy from her tears.

“Do you really want to go with him?” Abby couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “He probably killed Gary, and he knows you can identify him. Maybe he wants to kill you, too.”

“Uncle Dougie loves me.”

“I love you, too,” Abby said.

“Luke doesn’t love me. And you’re having a baby that you’ll love more than me. I need to be with Uncle Dougie.”

Maybe Abby thought Luke had been angry when he found her in Oak Moon, but Luke was an amateur compared to Tokarz de Lobo Garnier, who showed up unannounced at Granny’s house.

“I resent being a prisoner,” Abby said to the pack alpha. Even Luke at his most rebellious never spoke to Tokarz in that tone of voice.

“Tough,” Tokarz replied. “Write a song about it and maybe I’ll buy it.”

Abby looked as if Tokarz had slapped her.

“I want to buy one of your songs now.”

She sank into a kitchen chair, mouth agape. Speechless.

Luke was surprised, too.

“Not the melody,” Tokarz continued.

“How do you know the melody?” Abby asked. “I don’t know how to score music.”

“Luke sang it to us.”

Abby jerked her gaze to his.

“I forgot to tell you.” Luke shrugged. “There was a lot going on.”

“Stoker and I have been working on another melody—one more fitting the mood of the lyrics than “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star”,” Tokarz went on.

“Oh, okay,” was all Abby managed to say.

“I’ll have a lawyer draw up a contract when all this is over.” Then he mentioned a figure that made Abby’s eyes bug.

She simply nodded her agreement.

Luke didn’t say anything until he walked Tokarz to the front door. He glanced toward the kitchen where Abby lingered and made sure to pitch his voice low.

“You don’t need to pay her that kind of money. She doesn’t need it.” He opened the door and followed Tokarz onto the porch.

“Yes, she does.” The snow-scented wind ruffled the ends of Tokarz’s hair. “You’ve declared to the world she is not your mate. Therefore, she is not your responsibility. She has a child and a sister to support.”

“I’m taking care of them.” Luke clenched his fists. “That child is mine. And if you think by giving Abby all that money that she will take my baby and leave Colorado with it, you are so wrong.”

Tokarz studied Luke in the dimming light. “For someone who’s not mated, you’re acting an awful lot like a mate.”

“I’m an honorable werewolf.”

Tokarz snorted. “An honorable werewolf wouldn’t have fucked a human woman who wasn’t his mate. You’re omega. You have no honor.”

Stars burst in Luke’s vision, but Tokarz pinned him before he could attack. Tokarz’s huge hand grasped Luke’s throat. “Once this situation with the kiddie porn is put to bed, Abigail is free to leave with her sister.”

“What about the baby?”

“What about it? It’s less than half werewolf. I’m not going to stop Abigail from taking the child with her.”

Luke’s jeans, flannel shirt, and heavy leather boots were a pile of tattered remnants as a powerful wolf went for Tokarz’s throat.

But Tokarz stayed one step ahead of Luke. He, too, morphed. The snarling of the alpha and the omega drew a crowd. Luke was furious and not easy to subdue. He knew Tokarz had every right to kill him for the attack, so he had nothing left to lose. Except Abby and the baby. Both were worth fighting for. Even after Tokarz pinned him, his teeth snapping at Luke’s exposed throat, Luke didn’t give up.

Tokarz shifted first and signaled Luke he should do the same. Rage still burned through Luke’s veins.

“I should kill you,” Tokarz said in a low growl. “You know that, don’t you? But if I kill you, who will be Abigail’s mate? Because you’re behaving exactly the way a mate would behave, Omega. Do I need to banish you to the top of the mountain to think about your position in the pack and what you’ve done so far to shame it further than by your inconsequential existence? Face up to your responsibilities. And I don’t mean your financial obligations or your treaty fulfillment, Omega. Next time, I will kill you. And that will be the end of your line, won’t it?”

“Rosie Dawn,” Luke managed. “My child will carry on the Thibodaux bloodline regardless of what you do to me.” Even in defeat, Luke couldn’t hide his defiance.