Rebecca's Wolves (Wolf Masters Book 6) (17 page)

Ah. Rebecca thought she knew where Melinda was going with this story.

Melinda turned her gaze to face Rebecca. She shrugged again as if everything she’d said was just a hunch. “Could be a little of that going on. The forces of nature working not against you but in your favor to keep you from a greater harm. Unfortunately, we sometimes never find out. If we don't drive through the wrong intersection at the wrong time and the accident never occurs, how would we know what Fate had in store for us?”

Rebecca nodded. Melinda definitely had a glass-half-full view on life. Rebecca wished she could channel some of that faith, but it was tough. She had a race in two weeks. A huge one. She worked hard all year to get the trifecta. If she didn’t compete in this race, there was a chance she wouldn’t be able to fit in another one before the end of the year. And if she kept dorking around, she wouldn’t be prepared.

“Give the spirits a chance.” Melinda patted Rebecca’s knee. “Go for your run around here today. Try to stay positive.”

Rebecca met her eyes. “Is your mother a shaman too?”

Melinda flinched, much like her brother had at lunch.

“She was.”

“I’m so sorry. Miles hasn’t mentioned her. I didn’t know she had passed.”

“I don’t know that, either. But she’s gone either way. Left when we were three. I have no memory of her.”

“Oh, Melinda. That’s horrible.”

Melinda shrugged. “It is what it is. Mimi is a fantastic grandmother. She raised us as if we were her own. And we both love her to pieces. We owe her our lives.”

“And your father?” As long as Melinda was being open, it seemed as good a time as any to ask one more question.

“No idea who he is. And Grandma hasn’t offered a word.”

“Do you think she knows?”

“I’m not sure. We used to ask questions when we were younger. She always remained tight-lipped about the subject, ignoring our requests for information. Eventually we stopped nagging her.”

“Jeez. That’s rough.” Rebecca felt terrible for these twins who never knew their parents.

Melinda shrugged again. “We never knew any different. This is the life we’ve always lived. It’s not as though we lost something since we can’t remember either of them.”

She stood and started to walk away, and then she turned back. “Don’t be too hard on Griffen and Miles. I know it’s difficult for you to fully understand the bond between you three, but trust me when I say you’re the light in their darkness. Everything they do will be with the best of intentions to ensure you’re safe and happy. In time, you’ll see what I mean.”

And then she was gone, silently slipping back into the house a second before Miles and Griffen emerged.

•●•

Miles eyed his woman speculatively, unsure what sort of mood he might expect. When his sister insisted on speaking with Rebecca alone for a few minutes, he’d been leery, but Rebecca didn’t appear any worse for wear. She smiled up at him and Griffen as they stepped onto the porch.

“Let’s go home, love.” He leaned over her huddled form and kissed the top of her head, his hand curling around her neck.

She looked so small wadded up like that, vulnerable.

When he stroked his other hand down her arm and threaded his fingers with the back of hers, she lifted her gaze. “Okay.”

She noticeably didn’t flinch at the way he’d said “home.” His place was hers now. His home wasn’t large, however. In fact it was rather small for three people. And way too small to add children, but it would do for now. It might take a while for her to fully grasp that reality, and perhaps he was being cocky assuming his mates would move into his space, but deep down he knew that’s how the cards would fall in the end.

Call it intuition or a premonition. He just knew.

They were quiet as they climbed into the cab of his truck. Miles felt like he was walking on eggshells.

Rebecca looked calmer, but how was she feeling inside? He didn’t want to witness an explosion of nerves if he could avoid it. His grandmother said to give her time, so that seemed the best policy.

Moments after they started driving, her phone rang, and she fished it out of her pocket, her shoulder leaning into Miles, making him long for more of her touch.

“It’s Sharon,” she muttered. “Hey, Sharon,” she answered.

There was a long pause. Miles could hear the faint voice of the woman on the other end of the line—Griffen’s sister.

Rebecca stiffened beside him. Her hand flew out to grab the dash as though she were bracing herself.

A glance in her direction told him she was white as a sheet.

“What? Wait. Slow down… Sharon, start over… No… Stop… I can’t understand what you’re saying…”

Something was terribly wrong.

Miles pulled the truck over to the side of the road to give her his full attention.

Griffen had his hand on her back. He turned sideways, his brow furrowed. “Baby?”

Rebecca continued to stammer. “Are you sure it was my unit?” Her eyes were wide as she stared out the front windshield. She started shaking her head. She was pale by nature, but as the seconds passed, she grew whiter.

“Right… No… Okay… I see… Yes… Call me if you find out anything else. Thanks, Sharon.” She ended the call, and the phone dropped into her lap. Her face remained forward, unseeing.

“Rebecca? Love?” Miles eased his hand down her back below Griffen’s.

“Talk to us, baby,” Griffen encouraged.

“There was a fire.” Her voice was so low, he could barely hear her.

“Where?” Griffen asked.

“At my apartment.” She slumped back, covering her face with both hands, her chest heaving, her entire body shaking. Miles’ hand was trapped behind her, as was Griffen’s.

“A fire?”

“Transformer exploded, apparently.” She heaved for a breath, a sob escaping under the weight of the news.

“Ah, baby…” Griffen pulled her into his embrace.

She let him, her body going slack as she leaned into him. Her hands still covered her face as she cried.

Miles rubbed her shoulder and then slipped his hand into her hair under her braid, cupping her head. “I’m so sorry, love.”

She cried, soft tears of frustration and exhaustion. “This…is…so…insane…” Her words trickled out. It was hard to catch them all.

“How bad is it?” Griffen tipped her head back and gently lifted one hand from her face.

“Not sure yet,” she whispered. “Sharon will call back later. She’s heading over there now.”

“How did Sharon know?” Griffen asked.

Miles was wondering the same thing.

“Smoke everywhere. I don’t live far from her. She saw it on the news.”

Her phone rang again in her lap, and she jumped, her fingers fumbling to pick it up. She stared at the incoming number, shaking.

Miles took it from her hand and answered it. “Miles Bartel speaking.”

“Oh. I was looking for a Rebecca Larson.”

“This is her phone.”

“Ah. This is Detective Krantz with the Cambridge PD.”

“Yes. Are you calling about the fire?”

“Yes.” The man let out a breath, probably glad Miles was already informed. “I’m calling to ensure Ms. Larson wasn’t in the apartment, and that she’s safe.”

“She’s with me now. Shook up.”

“Understandable. So she wasn’t at the complex when the accident occurred?”

“Correct. She’s on the reservation with me.”

“Good. We’ll need to speak with her at some point, but that’s all I need for now. I have a list of residents to check on. Can I reach her at this number later?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“No problem. Please give her my condolences.”

“I will. Do you know how extensive the damage is?”

“Not yet. Her unit may have some salvageable items. It’s hard to say. There were others that got hit worse.”

“Okay. Thank you. I’ll let her know.”

The line went dead.

“Is it bad?” she asked, her small frame shaking in Griffen’s arms.

“Not sure yet, love.” Miles stroked her face. His heart hammered in his chest.

If she’d been there…

If she’d gone home this morning…

If the tires hadn’t been flat…

If that tree hadn’t been blocking the road…

He swallowed the enormous lump in his throat as he pondered the implications.

Tears streamed down her face as she turned her cheek into his touch. “Do you think this was it?”

“What, baby?” Griffen asked.

“The warning. The reason for all the signs.” She cried harder, curling into Griffen.

Miles popped her seatbelt so she wouldn’t be tangled in the straps.

She turned onto her side, her head in Griffen’s lap, and sobbed. “I’m so sorry…” she mumbled.

Sorry? What was she sorry for?

She repeated it over and over, burrowing into the man who held her tighter.

Griffen struggled to pull her up higher and snuggle her into his chest.

She buried her face in his T-shirt and fisted the material on either side.

Pent up stress from days of aggravation let loose while she cried harder.

He met Miles’ gaze over her head. The man was also pale. He had no more idea how to handle a crying desperate woman than Miles, but he did the only thing either of them knew to do. Hold her. Let her ride it out.

When she finally sucked in deep cleansing breaths, Miles leaned over her and kissed the side of her head. “So sorry, love.” There wasn’t anything else to say. He understood what she was thinking, and he had no way of knowing if she was right.

Was it possible all the events of the last few days had led to this? A pile of pressure from the spirits placed in their paths to keep her out of harm’s way?

He shivered at the idea. He had been raised on this reservation, mostly by his grandmother. He knew better than most how important it was to heed the signs. He’d lived with not only two women most of his childhood, but both with the ability to see things. Precognitive. Not just shaman, but they had sensitivities even he couldn’t explain.

They didn’t talk about it much, but it was always there under the surface. Sometimes in his face. Other times subtle.

This was monumental. If he was reading things right, it was becoming increasingly obvious the spirits had aligned to ensure he met his two mates at the perfect moment in time to keep his woman safe from danger.

“Do you think…?”
Griffen asked the question silently, letting it hang in the air between them.

Miles didn’t know how to respond. He shrugged and raised his eyebrows.

Finally, Rebecca straightened. She wiped her eyes on her tank top and pasted on a fake smile. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I can be emotional.”

Miles pulled her into his side. He stroked a hand over her head and down her braid. “Understandable. You’re entitled.”

She still shook, her body trembling as though she was cold.

No one said a word. The world was silent. Not even the animals, the birds, or the breeze blowing through the trees chose to interrupt their introspection as they all sat staring out at the landscape.

Rebecca spoke first. “We should go back to your place. I’m exhausted.”

Griffen took her back from Miles and held her against his side, fastening her seatbelt while Miles started the truck.

They rode in silence the ten minutes back to the house.

When Miles pulled up to the front of his home, the hairs on the back of his neck prickled his skin. He turned off the truck, but reached out a hand to keep Griffen from opening the door.

“What is it?” Griffen asked.

“I don’t know. Something isn’t right,” he muttered. “Stay here.” Miles opened his door and climbed down from the cab. He strode across the lawn to the front door. It stood ajar. He gave it a kick and peered inside. “Fuck,” he mouthed. And then, “Son of a bitch.” The small window next to the door had been broken with a rock that lay just inside the door.

He glanced around. There were no other cars or any signs of life. But someone had been there trashing the place while they’d been gone.

“Hello?” he called, but he knew there was no one inside. Whoever it was had left their scent lingering. It wasn’t a smell he recognized. And whoever had been there was long gone.

Still, he entered cautiously and surveyed the damage. The front room wasn’t bad. Not as bad as he’d originally thought. Things were turned over, cushions on the floor, chairs tipped on their side, but no severe damage.