Rebecca's Wolves (Wolf Masters Book 6) (10 page)

She appeared to be assessing Rebecca as though she could glean everything she needed to know about her with a quick body scan. With only a few feet between them, they stood eye to eye since Rebecca was at the bottom of the stairs and Miles’ grandmother at the top.

Finally the woman pointed at Rebecca. “Why aren’t you mated yet?”

“Grandma.” Miles moaned.

Rebecca had no idea what she was talking about, but considering the conversations she’d had lately, this wasn’t surprising.

“Don’t lay into her, Grandma. We just got here. We’ve had a rough night. We need showers and food. And then we’ll talk.”

His grandmother yanked her gaze from Rebecca to him as if she’d just realized he was there. “The spirits are mad at you.” She jerked her head toward Griffen next. “And you too, young man.”

Griffen stiffened at Rebecca’s side.

Mimi glanced down at his leg. “You hurt?”

“Yes. It’ll heal.”

“The spirits did this?”

What the fuck was all this chat about spirits? Rebecca stood very still, aware of two things. Griffen still had his hand on her back. And Miles still held her fingers with his.

“Grandma, we don’t know that for sure. Do you mind if we go inside? I could at least use coffee if the talking can’t wait.”

His grandmother ignored him, and her gaze went back to Rebecca.

Oh good
. Rebecca felt as though the woman could see through her, and she had no idea what she’d done to disappoint the woman before ever meeting her. “You have to complete the mating to appease the spirits. Bad things will happen. It’s bad luck to ignore the spirits.”

Miles squeezed her hand. “Grandma, stop. She has no idea what you’re talking about. You’re scaring her.”

“Why?” Mrs. Bartel rose taller on her small frame as though she could meet Miles eye-to-eye.

Rebecca had no doubt the crazy woman thought she was an equal match, and judging from Miles’ flinch, she might be. He obviously took her every word seriously and treated her with the respect due to someone of her age, but the woman was certifiable.

She shook her finger at Miles. “Young man, I am much older and wiser than you, and I’m telling you not to delay this claiming. Your partner has already suffered injury. Every moment you hesitate will bring you more bad luck.”

“Grandma.” Miles finally released Rebecca to ascend the steps. He turned his grandmother toward the door gently and opened it, ushering her in. “Griffen was injured before I met Rebecca,” he said to her back as they entered the house.

Griffen took a deep breath, obviously as exasperated as Rebecca, and pressed her forward so they too ascended the steps and followed the others inside.

Miles’ grandmother stopped walking. Her mouth hung open, and her face went as pale as possible considering her skin tone. “Oh my.” She held a hand to her chest. “It’s worse than I thought.”

“Sit.” Miles pointed at a chair. “I’ll get coffee. Stop talking before you do more damage than you have already.”

Rebecca didn’t know what damage he referred to, because if he was talking about her feelings, he was mistaken. Rebecca couldn’t possibly be offended by anything the woman said thus far since it was all Greek to her.

Luckily, Mrs. Bartel took a seat in a huge armchair that swallowed her whole.

Griffen tugged Rebecca by the belt loop onto the sofa next to him, stretching his leg out and wincing.

Rebecca turned to him. “You need to wash that, and we need to put more ointment on it.” She frowned at him.

“I will, baby. In a minute.” He rubbed her back. “Don’t worry. I’m hardy. I won’t die from infection. At least not from a puncture this small.”

“Small? Are you crazy?”

He grinned. “By human standards, you’re right. I could have died. But I’m not entirely human, baby.”

Like she needed that reminder.

His hand eased down to rest on her lower back again.

She loved the feel of his touch. It warmed her skin through her tank top. When she turned back around, she found Miles’ grandmother staring at her with the same furrowed brow and pursed lips, as if she were battling a war with herself to keep her mouth shut.

All her mumbling about mating and claiming had Rebecca on edge. Sounded like the woman was speaking to a group of animals, commanding them to fuck.

She shivered. That might be precisely what the older woman meant.

Miles returned carrying a pot of coffee in one hand and four mugs in the other, each finger wrapped around the loop on the side of a mug.

He set the precarious bunch on the coffee table and filled each cup. After handing the first one, black, to his grandmother, he turned to Rebecca. “How do you take your coffee, love?”

“Cream and sugar, if you have it.”

His grandmother sighed loudly.

“Grandma, hush,” he admonished as he padded back into the kitchen, only to return moments later carrying the two new containers. “We just met twelve hours ago. We haven’t had a chance to sit around a table and gab over coffee.”

“Twelve hours ago?” The woman seemed stunned. Where had she been? Had she not gotten that memo from all the other conversation?

He prepared Rebecca a cup of coffee, doctored it, and handed it to her as he spoke. “Yes, Grandma. Yesterday evening. And we’ve been busy dealing with Griffen’s injury and keeping our mate alive in the cold outdoors for the night. There hasn’t been time for anything else…like coffee.” He added that last bit as though it were an amendment that kept his sentence from sounding quite as suggestive as it did.

Notable was the fact he now referred to her directly as his mate also. Not just his, but the implication was that Griffen was included in the equation.

Mrs. Bartel stopped glaring daggers at Rebecca and turned toward Griffen. “Tell me about the spirit, son.”

Griffen stiffened. His gaze jerked to Miles.

Miles slumped down in the other armchair in the room and tipped his head to the ceiling. “You might as well tell her about your experience. She’s not leaving until she’s satisfied.”

“Young man,” his grandmother said, “I won’t be satisfied, and neither should you three, until this claiming is completed.”

“Well, Grandma,” he lifted his head to face her, “you want us to do that right here in front of you? Or wait until you finish hounding us and leave?”

She harrumphed and squirmed in her seat. “Don’t sass me, boy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He grinned, the obvious love and devotion he normally experienced around her covering his face.

She turned back to Griffen. “Talk.”

“I’m not sure what to say. I only saw a shadow. I assumed something got between me and the sun, maybe a cloud in the way or something—until Miles suggested otherwise, and then it happened again this morning.”

“A shadow?” The old woman leaned forward, perching on the edge of her seat.

“Yes, as though the sun were blocked for a moment. I assumed it was a bear at first, but it seemed larger. And I didn’t see a physical presence. The sun draped around it from behind.”

“And you were at the summit?”

“Yes.”

“And again this morning?” Mimi asked.

Griffen nodded. “It seemed to hover over us as though trying to get our attention.”

She shook her head in dismay. “This is bad.”

“Why?” Griffen asked. He probably had no idea his fingers had worked their way around the edge of Rebecca’s pants and gripped the material above her ass.

“It’s a bad omen, I tell you.” She stood, set her coffee mug on the little table, and smoothed her thick blue dress. If Rebecca wasn’t mistaken, she’d probably sewn it herself. She lifted her long narrow finger and pointed at each of them once more in turn. “Mark my words, you finish this. And you do it now. Every second you hesitate angers the spirits more. You hear?”

“Yes, Grandma. I hear you.” Miles stepped forward and followed his grandmother to the door. The woman held her head high as she left without saying good-bye or glancing back.

Soon after Miles shut the door, Rebecca heard the engine of the woman’s car start, and then she pulled slowly out of the gravel driveway. “Um, forgive me, but what in the hell was that all about?”

Miles turned around and leaned against the door as though he were too exhausted to make his way across the room. He probably was. If he’d slept at all last night, she’d be surprised. Every time she woke up, she found him staring at her, his hand drawing circles on some section of her body.

The memory of the night, combined with her memory of the previous evening when Griffen had kissed her senseless and then stroked her cheek as she fell asleep, came crashing down around her in a rush. She jumped up from the couch, dislodging Griffen’s grip on her pants. “I really need to get home.” She didn’t care that no one had answered her previous question. She needed to escape.

“Love…” Miles groaned. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“He’s right, baby.” Griffen stood too. He reached for her, but she darted out of his grasp. She couldn’t think when either of them touched her.

Miles smiled as he stared at his flustered mate. He shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t help it. She was so damn cute. “Why don’t you go first in the shower? I’ll make breakfast. And then we’ll talk after we’re all clean and fed.”

Her shoulders slump. “I’m feeling railroaded.”

“I know, love. I’m sorry. I promise it will all make sense soon.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

Miles stepped forward and reached for her hand. He waited for her while she stared at it for several heartbeats. Finally, she set hers in his, and he led her from the room, down the short hall, and into his bedroom.

It was a mess. He winced. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting company.”

“And I never said this was necessary.”

“It is, love.” He stepped over dirty clothes and pushed into the bathroom, which was thankfully not in as bad of shape. At least it was clean. He had a woman who came every week to ensure he didn’t live in a pigsty.

When he entered the bathroom, he grabbed a towel from the small closet and handed it to her. “Everything you need should be in there. Sorry, I don’t have anything girly, but we can fix that.”

“What? Now you’re going to run to the store?”

He chuckled. “No. Not now. Later.”

“How long do you think I’m staying here? Long enough to need multiple showers?” She narrowed her gaze and cocked one hip out.

“Perhaps,” he muttered. He really should keep his damn mouth shut and stop talking. Every time he opened it, he created new problems.

“Jesus, Miles. This is crazy.”

He turned toward her, took her hips in his palms, and inhaled deeply of her wonderful scent. “I know. Please. Shower. Eat. We’ll talk after.”

“Okay,” she mumbled, lowering her gaze.

He kissed the top of her head and then left her, shutting the door behind him.

The first thing he did when he heard the shower running was scurry around his bedroom picking up the litter of clothing and stashing it in the hamper in the corner. The next thing he did was strip the bed and put on fresh sheets. Thank God he had a king-sized bed. He was about to need it.

Finally, he popped back into the living room.

“She okay?” Griffen stood at the sliding glass door that led to the back yard.

“No.”

“Didn’t figure.”

“You want to use the guest bath while I start something to eat?”

“Sure.” Griffen turned around, but he made no move to leave the room. “We good?”

Miles met his gaze. “We have a choice?”

“Doesn’t seem like it, but it could be smoother.”

Miles smiled. “It’s not what I had in mind, but if I had to pick a man to share my mate with for life, I suppose I would have chosen you.” His words were heartfelt. He meant them.

Griffen met his smile. “Same to you.”

“Go shower. I’m sure we both stink.”

•●•

Rebecca was all thumbs in the shower. It took her forever to wash her hair, and thank God Miles had conditioner. She would have been a mess without it. She tried not to think while she bathed, but it was difficult to ignore the pile of questions she had. In addition, the room smelled of Miles. Hell, the whole house did. After all, it was his house.