One Second (Seven Series Book 7) (9 page)

I sat across from him. “Any sales?”

His brown eyes flashed up to mine, and I immediately regretted opening that can of worms. “As a matter of fact, there are. Why don’t you check out the section on
beds
,” he suggested, flicking a glance at his mother.

“Are you and Naya sleeping on the trundle?” I asked, wondering who got the top and who got the bottom.

“Naya is. I’m downstairs on the sofa. I don’t trundle.”

“Why didn’t you take the heat house?”

He gave me one of those “keep your voice down or hell might unleash” looks. Then he leaned forward and whispered, “I don’t want to give them the wrong idea. They
know
what that room is for.”

“What are you, sixteen?”

Katharine set a plate in front of me. Hand to God, I almost threw up.

Wheeler sat back and laughed quietly, lifting the paper in front of his face and giving it a light shake.

“Creamed possum,” she said. “Killed it this morning.”

“Looks… fresh.” I swallowed thickly, trying to come up with a reason for Cheerios.

I heard Wheeler’s breath as he laughed silently, the paper trembling.

Katharine returned to the kitchen. “It’s too bad you couldn’t join us this morning while it was still hot.”

And wiggling,
I thought.

“Yeah,” Melody said flatly. “You missed the squirrel.”

Wheeler set down the paper. “Meat is meat. Kids today are spoiled and don’t know how to live like a true Shifter. What do you think your wolf is going to be chewing on when you grow up?”

“My wolf can have all the squirrels she wants so long as I can have my pizza.”

Katharine opened the fridge and poured a glass of juice. I gently pushed the plate toward Wheeler.

When she set the glass down, I quickly grabbed it.

“Mmm, this is just what I wanted.” I slowly drank the pulpy orange juice, my eyes fixed on Wheeler’s index finger pushing my plate back in front of me.

Bastard.

Denver strutted in and stepped over the bench to my right. “You gonna eat that?” he whispered.

Faster than a heartbeat, I moved the plate his way.

“Is everyone here?” I asked, watching Reno walk past the windows with an axe in his hand. Thankfully, it didn’t have any blood on the blade. It also seemed off for Trevor and William to be home at this hour.

“Austin wants a family meeting,” Denver said around a mouthful of possum.

I shuddered and drank my juice. After five spoonfuls, he finished and slid the empty plate in front of me.

“Where’s George?”

“Pop’s outside with the twins,” Denver said, peering at Melody. “Whatcha working on, Mel?”

She held up a strip of decorated fabric. “Mom gave me her old purse, so it’s an experiment. I’m going to sew this on as a side pouch.”

“Sassy,” he said, his voice a falsetto as he waggled his brows.

She laughed and tucked her blue tresses behind her ears.

George opened the back door, and the twins rushed in before him, their cheeks ruddy and eyes glittering with excitement. They were ten and a handful, considering both boys were alphas.

When I saw them all carrying guns, I whirled around to Denver. “
Playing
outside?”

He shrugged. “Target practice is Pop’s version of fun. Hey, at least they didn’t get the bazooka out of Reno’s closet.”

I rolled my eyes and stood up. “Hi, George. We’re so glad to see you.”

George was more of a hugger than Katharine, so he gave me a tight squeeze and a friendly smile. “How’s my girl?”

I loved George; he was the father I’d always wanted. He resembled Reno, only more rotund and a smidge shorter.

“I’m great. Just a little sleepy.”

“Vacations will do that,” he said with a wink. The kind of wink that embarrassed the hell out of me because of what it implied.

He glanced down at my bunny slippers, and his chest rocked with a subdued laugh. Then he hummed melodically, something he always did at the end of a laugh.

Reno slammed the back door, sweat stains on his blue shirt—the kind of stretchy fabric that hugged every muscle. “The wood’s chopped.” He wiped his forehead with a rag and smirked. “Have a good night’s sleep, Lexi?”

I pressed my lips together and crossed the kitchen, ignoring the chuckles from the men. “Katharine, why don’t you sit down? You’re our guest.”

“If I sat down, nothing would get done. I brought my bow if you want to hunt with me later.”

Katharine was a skilled archer, and not for sport. She killed the food she put on her table.

“I need everyone in the kitchen,” Austin boomed from across the house.

The front door slammed, and Spartacus scrambled into the room, knocking into his food dish and scattering little brown pebbles across the floor. The pack trickled in and stood in front of the table. Trevor had shifted back to human form and obviously had on someone else’s jeans—they hung too low on his narrow waist and didn’t carry a designer label.

Austin stood next to me, our backs to the row of counters along the wall. “I’ve been busy this morning and haven’t had a chance to see everyone, so we’ll catch up later. Right now, I need to fill you in on something important. What I’m about to tell you stays in this house.” He quieted for a moment and made sure everyone heard his command. “While we were on vacation, Colorado was attacked.”

“And boom goes the dynamite,” Wheeler said, rising from his seat. He walked around to the front of the table, arms folded.

“Who?” Izzy gasped, wrapping her fingers around her left wrist and rubbing at old scars.

“Northerners.” Austin met everyone’s gaze. “The war… has begun.”

A thunderstruck silence fell across the room.

“I’m going to guess that has something to do with why you two showed up out of the blue,” Austin said to his parents, who were seated on a bench.

Katharine held George’s arm. “The rumors were rampant in South Dakota. Our pack is large, so we shared our concerns with the Packmaster. He agreed we should come here and fight alongside our sons.”

Jericho folded his arms, his long hair slipping in front of his eyes. “Why here? That’s a long journey to bypass all those other states.”

Katharine looked to Austin before answering. “We kept hearing Colorado and Texas mentioned. The rumors changed, but everyone seemed to think they were going for the power states.”

“Well, they didn’t succeed in Colorado,” Austin interjected. “We don’t have any information on when and how this is going down, but the Council thinks we have enough time to prepare.”

Wheeler sat on the table and propped his bare feet on the bench. “So what’s the plan, honcho?”

“The Council’s working something out for our territory, and if it goes well, they’re going to share it with other neighboring Councils. This is our turf, and we’re not running scared. I’ve got one request for Maddox and Naya: If you want to let your animals out, then you’ll need to shift off the property.”

Maddox crossed one boot in front of the other from his spot in the doorway. “And why’s that?”

“Because I don’t want to tip off any scouts that we have two cats in our pack. I prefer the element of surprise, and that’s what’s going to give us an edge. You can shift in the heat house if you want, but I doubt your animal will care for that.”

“No, and
I
won’t care for him chewing up the coffee table,” Lynn said.

Maddox chuckled and locked his arm around her waist. “I’ve got plenty of land at my old house. You can put your mind at ease; I won’t be nibbling on your fancy sofa pillows.”

Austin rubbed his face, and I wanted to send him to bed. It didn’t look like he’d gotten much sleep. “Anyhow, we may or may not be getting a couple of temporary packmates. We’ll see. You’re my eyes and ears, so if you notice anything suspicious, I want to know about it. Especially you, Denver. The bar might pull in a few rogues with loose lips. In the meantime, think about ways to set traps on the property and secure the house. Looks like the folks will be here for a while.”

Wheeler lowered his head to his hands, and I struggled not to laugh about his future sleeping situation.

Naya sat down on the bench beside his feet, crossing her lovely legs, which peeked out from the long slit in her black skirt. “You’ll be fine, Mr. Grumpy,” she said, patting his knee.

“Melody, I think it’s time your grandmother showed you how to use a bow,” Katharine said.

And she didn’t mean for hunting squirrel, either.

April reached for Reno’s hand and held it tight. The sense of family was overpowering, like a charge in the air before a storm.

Austin moved toward the hall and nodded. “Reno, I need to speak with you privately in my office.”

When they left the room, everyone let out a breath and looked between one another. My mom gave me a tight hug before heading to work.

Izzy blocked my view, concern brimming in her green eyes. She didn’t have a speck of makeup on, and her freckles seemed paler than they usually were in the summertime. “What are we supposed to do?”

“Live,” I said. “That’s all you
can
do when the inevitable is coming.”

“Here you are, Mr. Rain.”
I handed the customer a paper bag with the Sweet Treats logo on the side. “Two peanut butters, one coconut macaroon, and a slice of pumpkin cake. The usual.”

My regular flashed a charismatic smile, his black eyes glittering as I met his gaze. Not something most people commonly did with Vampires, but I didn’t believe in discrimination. What was he going to do, charm me for my fudge?

“I told you before to call me Atticus. Mr. Rain seems too formal for a debonair man such as myself.”

I didn’t know whether to take him seriously or not, so I just smiled and placed one of our new menus in his bag.

Atticus had a look about him I couldn’t describe, like an aristocrat. His short hair was a bright, unnatural shade of blond that suited him. He was every bit as regal as he was affable, so it led me to believe he was old.

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Atticus?”

His fangs slightly descended, and he quickly closed his mouth. He studied the display of new menu items, pretending to consider trying something new. That was his usual routine, but Atticus never bought anything extra. Vampires didn’t need to eat, but many still enjoyed the taste of good cuisine. It was quite the compliment to have a Vampire as a regular customer.

“See you Friday,” he said.

I leaned on the counter and watched him move briskly around a display, his long black coat flapping as he went out the door.

“Vampires don’t have to eat,” Trevor remarked, moving around me and tossing paper into the trash. “He just comes in here to stare at you.”

“So? He still pays.”

“Yeah? Well it’s creeptastic.”

“Don’t be so prejudiced. He seems a little lonely, but he’s a nice guy.”

Trevor snorted and wiped down the counter. “A nice guy who wants to drain you like a bathtub.”

I pinched his side. “Don’t be so cynical. You underestimate the power of my macaroons.”

Izzy had taken the day off since she’d worked extra hard while I was away on vacation. It was difficult finding part-time work in a Breed shop. Most wanted long hours or a high-paying job. I couldn’t hire humans because most of our customers were anything but, and eventually even the most clueless person would catch on.

I loaded up a box with leftovers to take home. Not everything would keep until the next day, and I preferred to serve my customers fresh food. Once I’d gotten a handle on how much inventory moved on a given day and which items sold, I limited how many of the less popular treats I made. Customers who loved those goodies knew to swing by early if they wanted any. We baked bread throughout the day, but I mostly stuck to desserts. A significant chunk of our income came from local businesses who ordered my cookies in bulk to sell at their bar or restaurant. I also catered parties and other events, but I preferred working in the store and seeing customers’ eyes widen at the display, their nostrils flaring as they drew in a deep breath.

I nibbled on a ginger cookie while Trevor cleaned the crumbs from inside the display case.

Trevor had soft features for a man, but the kind of face that gave him the allure of a rock star. Especially the way he styled his hair to half shield his eyes, lending to his mysterious persona.

“Do we have enough dough prepped for tomorrow?”

“All good. I took care of that,” he said. “Did you eat dinner?”

“I had some garlic bread.”

“That’s not enough.”

I smiled. “I’ll pig out when we get home. How’s that?”

He pulled up a stool and straddled it. “Did you see any action in Colorado?”

I shoved the rest of the cookie into my mouth, chewing slowly. “You guys need to lay off. It’s not like we went on a honeymoon.”

“No, I don’t mean sex. Everyone knows you saw more action than Reno in a combat zone. I meant with the pack-war stuff.”

“Oh, that. Just a local rogue who wanted to start shit with Austin.”

“Guess he wins the dumbass award of the year.”

“That’s why Austin doesn’t want to spread rumors until the Council works out a plan. I don’t have any trouble with the rogues who come into my shop, but I can see how something like this would give someone ideas on how to get away with murder.”

I walked around Trevor and set the box of leftovers near my purse. “Are you ready to head out? I’m done cleaning.”

Evening hours always brought a sense of nostalgia, reminding me of the old days at the candy store when April and I had been a couple of inexperienced girls who couldn’t imagine where our lives would lead. Sometimes I’d close up early to go hang out with April at the candy store, but it wasn’t the same. So much had changed—we had changed.

“Yeah, let’s blow this joint,” he said.

I lifted the box and moved around the counter. “I still think we should hire a Vampire for the night shift. Just imagine how much work they could get done since they don’t have to sleep. My prepping days would be over! Then we could focus on serving customers instead of rushing back and forth between the counter and kitchen.”

He switched off the main lights. “I’m not working with a Vampire. He might charm me into believing he’s not sucking my blood every three hours in the bathroom.”

I laughed. “You’re so…” The words tumbled away, and the floor slipped out from beneath my feet. I wondered if Trevor had switched out the lights, because suddenly I was immersed in darkness and had no sense of anything around me.

“Lexi! Lexi!” I heard Trevor yelling from far away. The sound was muted, similar to being underwater.

When I rolled onto my back, sparks of light began to appear, and then Trevor, hovering over me with panic-stricken eyes.

I blinked, my hearing slowly returning. “I’m… I’m fine. Wow, that was weird.”

“Weird? Jesus, you scared the shit out of me. I know I’m good-looking, but I’m not
that
good-looking. What happened? One minute you were talking, and the next,
bam
.”

I took his hand, and he pulled me to a sitting position.

“I don’t know. I blacked out for a minute.” I stared at cookies and cakes strewn across the floor, the box upside down and flipped open.

“You shouldn’t have overworked yourself,” he said, chastising me.

I had to laugh considering I’d spent half the evening sitting on my butt reading a magazine. “I had more exercise on my vacation.” My smile waned. “All that work mopping the floor… and now look at it.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he said, staring down at the mess. “I’ll sweep it up in the morning.”

“We can’t leave it like this; it’ll attract roaches.”

The bell jingled on the door, dragging our attention away.

“We’re closed,” Trevor called out.

A shadow of a man stood before us, his beige coat much too long for his modest height. When he stepped forward, one of the track lights from above shone on his face, and I gasped.

“Charlie?”

Trevor brewed a pot of coffee while I locked up the store and seated Charlie at a small table.

“You haven’t changed,” I remarked, noticing his thin hair and spectacles. “Last I heard, you had cancer and died.”

Could he sense the contempt in my voice? Because the tension in the air was palpable.

Charles Langston, my old boss, had always reminded me of a college professor, not just in looks but also his demeanor. He appeared to be in his late fifties, relatively short for a man, unremarkable features, and too pale to live in the South. The lines etched in his forehead weren’t deep, but they were a visible roadmap to the life he must have lived. He had kind eyes brimming with wisdom, and they made you feel like you could open up to a man like him.

He sipped the coffee from his white cup and glanced over his shoulder at Trevor, who was busy sweeping up cookie crumbs. “I’m a Mage. I conceal my light to blend in easily with the humans. Other Breeds think I’m a Relic, and that’s fine by me. Less trouble.”

The sound of my fingers drumming on the table filled the awkward silence that followed. “I don’t know whether to be pissed off at you for making me cry over your death or relieved that you’re alive.”

Charlie added another packet of sugar to his coffee. “The attorney you met is a friend of mine; it’s not the first time he’s helped me wrap things up and fake my death. So I slowly withdrew, made people think I had an illness, and drafted up some documents with my lawyer regarding the company and my finances. I did business on the human side of town, so I needed to make it look real with my neighbors, the legal system—everyone. A female friend of mine drove down and set me up with a new identity.”

“You also skipped town on a loan shark without settling your debts.”

He set down his paper cup, steam rising from the top, and put his hands in his lap. “So you know about that.”

All I knew was what Reno had mentioned years ago. Charlie owed Maddox, but he didn’t say why.

“Did you think faking your death would get rid of the debt?”

Charlie pushed his small wire-framed glasses farther up his nose. “That’s not why I left. Because I choose to live in the human world, I have to fake my death and move on when the time is right. My Creator made me over four centuries ago, and not by my choice. I was an educated man, and he had a desire to learn. When I gained my independence, I broke ties with the Breed world. Years ago, your brother came into Sweet Treats asking for a job. Not for himself, but for his little sister. That’s an admirable quality for a man to have, looking out for his family that way. I’d seen you in the store a few times with your friends and sensed you were Breed, so my curiosity was piqued as to why you were living with humans.”

“I didn’t know I was a Shifter. That’s a long story.”

“Most stories worth telling are long.” He took another sip of coffee and warmed his hands around the cup. “I liked mentoring you, Lexi. You always had a good head for business; you just didn’t give yourself the benefit of the doubt. That kind of confidence comes with age and experience, but I saw enough potential to know that you would never get too comfortable in a job that didn’t challenge you. Maybe I wanted to help because I sensed you were a Shifter, though I couldn’t tell if you’d gone through your first change.”

“I thought a Mage couldn’t sense what Breed people were?”

He shrugged. “It depends. Some of us have learned to read energy, but mostly it was in your personality. Shifters have remarkable qualities that separate them from others, traits I find most amusing.”

I folded my arms. “Glad you kept me around for your amusement.”

He pursed his lips and sat back. “Maybe I wanted to keep an eye on you since you seemed a bit lost. Your energy wasn’t as strong as the other Shifters, so I thought you were a defect. Without a pack, you’d have to work twice as hard to support yourself through the years.”

“Why did you leave?”

Charlie pulled the collar of his shirt away from his neck. “I had a conversation with April one morning while setting up the displays. She mentioned her father’s car going over a bridge when she was younger. It’s funny how you can run away from your mistakes, and yet they always seem to track you down.”

“What does her father have to do with you?”

I turned to look at the front door when it suddenly opened.

“Jeez, it’s like winter out there!” April exclaimed, tucking her hands back into her thin jacket. “I should watch the weather channel more often. So why did you call me over? Car trouble?”