The Alpha's Mate (26 page)

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Authors: Jacqueline Rhoades

Tags: #paranormal, #mountains, #alpha male, #werewolves romance, #wolvers

BOOK: The Alpha's Mate
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“You weren’t supposed to meet them both,” Max
said thoughtfully. “That has to make it so much worse for you.”

“But why? Why is it worse for me? Is it
because I’m human?” But she knew that couldn’t be true because she
didn’t feel like this with any of the other wolver men she’d
met.

Max shrugged. “It’s because you’re an Alpha’s
Mate.”

“Mate! No one said anything about mating or
marriage or even going steady. Marshall hasn’t even taken me to
lunch at the Dizzy Dish!”

Max laughed a little and patted her hand.
“Remember how I explained about alpha with a little ‘a’ versus
Alpha with a capital? You’re an Alpha’s Mate; capital ‘A’, capital
‘M’. It means you’re really rare and special. It means you were
born to be the Alpha’s mate; capital ‘A’, little ‘m’.”

“Marshall’s mate?” She rather liked the idea
of being born to love him. “But what does that have to do with how
I feel when I’m around Charles?”

“Whoo-boy.” Max ran her hand over her mouth
pulling on her lower lip. She sat back in her chair with a sigh. “I
shouldn’t be the one telling you this. Maybe I should go get
Maggie.”

Elizabeth’s head snapped up and she grabbed
Max’s wrist. “Don’t. You. Dare. Talking to you is humiliating
enough. I’ll be damned if I’ll have the whole town know. You will
sit there, Maxine McGregor, and you will explain as clearly and
concisely as you can, just what the hell is happening to me.”

“Okay, okay. You can let go my wrist now.”
Max tapped the hand that held her.

“Oh, Sorry.” Elizabeth let go and sat
back.

“Yeah, right. Now don’t get mad if I screw
this up.” After a heaving breath, Max began, “An Alpha’s Mate is a
human woman who’s born with something inside her that makes her…
ah… perfect to be the mate of the Alpha of a pack. I don’t know
what it is. I don’t think anybody does, but it’s there and you’ve
got it.”

“Am I marked in some way? How can anyone tell
I’ve got this ‘it’?”

“Well,” Max smirked a little. “It’s pretty
obvious when you get all wild and horny around the Alpha.”

“I do not get all wild and horny around
Marshall,” Elizabeth denied indignantly. She might have felt that
way, but she certainly hadn’t acted upon it. Then she remembered
licking Marshall’s chest the first night they met. And the things
they’d done on the floor of the Home Place. She felt the flush rise
in her cheeks.

Max fluttered her hands nervously and did a
little dance with her nails on her knee. “You keep saying Marshall,
but it’s the Alpha of any pack who’s still unmated.”

It took a moment for that to sink in and the
result was horrifying. “You mean I would feel the attraction for
any Joe Blow who walked in the room?” Creepy Eyes?

“Only if Joe Blow was the Alpha of his pack.”
Max shrugged timidly.

“And would these Alphas be equally attracted
to me?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Max swallowed hard. “The
way I heard it, if you were to put a half dozen Pack Alphas in a
room with you, they’d tear the place and each other apart.”

“That’s barbaric!”

“No, it’s wolver. They can’t help the way
they feel any more than you can. Which is why you were only
supposed to meet Marshall.”

It was like pulling a plug from a drain and
watching the water circle and disappear. These men weren’t
attracted to her as a person. She hadn’t somehow freed an alluring
inner self by running away. Marshall didn’t love her. He didn’t
even have to like her. He was simply in the throes of some genetic
lust that had nothing to do with her.

“I’m not here by accident, am I?” She’d been
delivered like a package in the mail, a lamb to the slaughter, a
dog on a leash to a pack of wolves. “It was Eugene Begley.”

“Yep. He’s a matchmaker. He was born with the
talent for it. It’s a gift, like healing and folks say he can smell
an Alpha’s Mate a mile off which is pretty funny when you think
about it. Wolvers don’t track much by smell. We’re not bloodhounds.
Wolvers hunt mostly by sight and sign. So when they say…”

“Nothing about this is funny.”

“I guess not if you’re you. Sorry.”

“So what did Marshall do? Pay Eugene Begley
to find him a mate?” Had she been bought and paid for, too?

“No ma’am. That’s not the way of it at all.”
Max looked like she wanted to cry. “Marshall, he wasn’t looking for
a mate. It was the rest of us. We…”

We? “Max, does everyone else know who, what I
am?”

“Yes ma’am,” Max admitted and at least she
had the decency to look chagrinned. “We all knew from the get go,
but we couldn’t say anything. You weren’t supposed to know anything
about us being wolvers until Marshall gave the okay. But all hell
broke loose and…” She shrugged. “I’m real sorry, but it has to be
that way. You were an outsider and…”

“And it’s okay to make a fool of an
outsider.” She heard a car speeding into the yard. It had to be
Charles. She pointed her finger at Max. “We’re not finished.”

But she was. Elizabeth would make sure
Charles healed his brother and then she was finished with them
all.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 27

A crowd had gathered around the sporty silver
car, but they parted, with glaring looks, when Elizabeth walked
through. The bodies closed in behind her when she reached the
car.

Charles, who was dressed much as he’d been
the other night in sharply creased khakis and a dark green polo
shirt, was reaching for something across the driver’s seat. He came
out with the white cowboy hat he’d also worn before, held it by the
crown to his chest and bowed theatrically to Elizabeth.

“My shining armor was at the dry cleaners,”
he said as he settled the hat on his head, smiling. “My great white
hat will have to do.” He looked around at the crowd. “For some
reason, they always expect the black one.”

“The white hat is charming,” she smiled,
“Silver suits are so awkward.” After what she’d just heard, she
should be angry, but Max was right. He was a product of his genes
as much as she was of hers. And sexy tingle aside, she couldn’t
help but like him. “Thank you for coming, Charles.”

He looked her up and down. She was still in
the clothes he’d seen her in the day before only now they were
stained with mud and blood. Marshall’s blood.

“You’re looking a little worse for wear
there, my dear, and since you haven’t thrown yourself into my arms
and begged me to take you away from this hillbilly heaven, I’m
assuming I misinterpreted your call. Shall we walk while we talk?”
He offered her his arm with another slight bow.

She wouldn’t refuse to touch him in front of
these people. In spite of, or maybe because of his over the top
display of manners, she knew he felt awkward here. By the looks on
the faces surrounding them, this had to be hard. For him, she’d
play the lady accepting a gentleman’s arm. She could handle the
tingle until they were away from the crowd. It was a small
sacrifice for a friend.

Her eyes widened when her hand touched his
bare arm. She felt nothing but bare arm. Nothing.

His eyes widened, too, mimicking hers. He
laughed and patted the fingers holding his arm in an iron grip.
“Proof, I’m afraid, that all good things must come to an end. Now,
tell me why I’m here.”

He was making this so easy for her and she
loved him for it. She turned to face him, looking up into those
beautiful green eyes. How could she have suspected, even for a
minute, that he was a part of what had happened here. “It’s
Marshall. He’s dying, Charles. He needs a healer.”

Charles’ face paled. “Have you called Mikey?
He’s the one you need.”

“He’s in Europe at some conference. Roman
tried to contact him. I don’t know if he was successful. It doesn’t
matter now. You’re here.” He couldn’t refuse, could he?

He turned away from her. “I’m not your man. I
can’t do this.” He sounded ashamed.

“But Maggie said all the Goodman’s had the
gift.”

“The gift.” He laughed bitterly. “Have you
noticed how they use gift and talent interchangeably? It’s not
true. Just because you have the gift, doesn’t mean you have the
talent. I don’t have the talent. I can’t do it.”

“You have to try, Charles. That’s all I’m
asking. Try.”

Charles didn’t speak, wouldn’t look at her.
Didn’t he understand? Marshall was running out of time.

“Just a little,” she begged. “Just a little.
Enough to keep him going until Michael gets here.”

He whirled on her, face stricken with grief.
“If I call the light, I’ll kill him.” His shoulders slumped and he
reminded Elizabeth of a defeated little boy.

“What do you mean?” she said gently. She held
his cheek in her hand. He shook his head as if telling her would be
a waste of time. She waited, keeping her hand on his face.

“Mikey was the first of us to heal something.
We were out playing and one of us hit a bird with a slingshot. Its
wing was broken. Mikey was all upset. He never could see an animal
hurt. Anyway, he picked it up and this glow came out of his hands
and that bird just flew away. We knew what it was. We’d seen the
Alpha do it. We all ran home to tell him. First he laced into Mikey
for blubbering over the bird and then he tells me if Mikey can do
it so can I. I’m the oldest, right?

“Next day he takes me out hunting. First
rabbit he hits doesn’t die. Now usually, you break its neck, end it
quick. He says, ‘Heal it.’ I didn’t know how. I tried, but nothing
happened. We kept going out. He kept wounding animals. ‘Come on,
boy. You’re a Goodman. You can do it.’

Charles’ voice deepened. Elizabeth could hear
his father in it. “It was too soon,” she said softly, “You weren’t
ready.”

“No,” he said, “I just wasn’t good at it. It
got so I hated going hunting. I still do. But my father wouldn’t
give up. I was a Goodman and by golly, that meant I had the gift
and I needed to learn how to use it. Finally, he shot another
rabbit. ‘Heal it,’ he says just like always. This time, that golden
glow comes out of my hand. I could see where it was injured and
what had to be done. ‘That’s right, boy. I told you you could do
it.’

Charles looked at her sadly. “That rabbit
died.” He looked down at his open hand. “I broke its neck. And
that’s what happened every other time after that. My father
eventually gave up.”

“As you wanted him to,” she said.

“Hell yeah I wanted him to. It was torture. I
hated it. I couldn’t do it.”

Elizabeth almost laughed, but the subject
wasn’t laughable. “Charles Goodman, I know you so well. You’re me.
And my mother and your father were two peas in a pod. Fortunately
for me, killing small animals wasn’t ever in vogue among the
country club set. But there was Miss Lydia’s School for Little
Ladies and Gentlemen; classes in deportment, etiquette, and
ballroom dancing. I was nine and I hated it. I wasn’t an
uncoordinated child. I could walk with a book balanced on my head.
I could waltz without trampling some little boy’s toes. But in Miss
Lydia’s School for Little Ladies and Gentlemen, I was a klutz. I
was the one who always spilled my juice, always tried to eat my
desert with my fish fork, and always stomped on my partner’s toes
until they howled. My mother finally, and in great shame, took me
out. I didn’t learn much about deportment, but I did learn how to
wage war.”

Charles was looking at her as if she had two
heads.

“Don’t you see? I couldn’t battle my mother
head to head. I’d lose. She was bigger and better at it. So I
learned to wage a war of wills. Small victories, I called them. You
waged bigger battles than little Elizabeth could ever imagine. I
never had the courage to totally rebel the way you did. You were
much stronger than I ever was. When he saw the golden light, that
angry little boy silently said to his father, ‘I’ll fix you’ and he
did. The rabbit died.”

“No,” he said, but his eyes looked hopeful.
He looked off into the distance, weighing what she’d said and then
he frowned. “There are things that can’t be fixed, you know.
Strokes, cancers, certain injuries…”

Doctor Palmer came running up, breathing
heavily. “You said you’d be in the barn,” he panted.

“What?” Elizabeth asked in a whisper. She
reached for Charles’ hand and felt it grasp hers tightly.

“He’s having trouble breathing. You’d better
come.”

Elizabeth ran pulling Charles behind her.

Two men stood at the door and she thought
they were going to bar her way. Henry stepped forward, looking no
better than he had before.

“Let her through,” he said, “The Alpha wants
her.” He took her free hand and led her up the stairs.

Elizabeth held on to both men. Marshall was
awake? This was a good thing wasn’t it? Her heart was beating
wildly in her chest. As soon as Henry opened the door, she knew he
had lied.

Marshall lay where she’d left him, but his
face was no longer serene. His chest was heaving. His mouth was
open and he was gasping for air. His lips were blue around the
edges and his eyes were open, but Marshall wasn’t seeing anything.
He was struggling to stay alive.

She looked around the room at the staring
faces. “Henry, Maggie, get them out. Get them all out.” She spoke
with authority and was surprised at how controlled she sounded.

Maggie was the first to obey. “Come on boys
and girls. You heard the lady.”

A few of the men protested, but Henry was
hearing none of it. “The Alpha said I was to listen to her. I’m his
second and until he’s… We owe him. Come on.” He looked
questioningly at Charles.

“He stays,” she said and Henry frowned but
didn’t protest.

As soon as the door was closed, she was by
Marshall’s side. Stroking his hair and speaking softly. “Your
brother’s here. He’ll fix it Marshall. He’ll make you better.” And
then she spoke to Charles, though she never took her eyes from
Marshall’s face. “It’s time to stop warring with a dead man. If you
don’t, he’ll rule you from the grave. It’s time to be the Alpha you
were meant to be. You can do this. You can see what’s wrong. If you
tell me then it can’t be done, I’ll believe you, but first you have
to try.”

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