Wolf Tracker (11 page)

Tami doubted it. Male company was the last thing she wanted right now.

Chapter Eleven

After dropping Tami off at Taye’s den, Tracker stopped at Greasy Butte on his way to the Clan’s winter camp. He walked into the mayor’s house and followed his nose to a small office at the back of the house. Tracker tossed the gold coin on Tom Leach’s desk and watched the mayor with cold eyes. “Your wife,” he said softly, “ain’t coming back. I never took money for a job I couldn’t finish, so here it is.”

Leach half rose from his chair, face taut, the odor of guilt-ridden worry pouring off him like sweat. “What happened? Is she dead?”

With his hand within easy reach of his knife, Tracker drawled, “No, she’s with the Clan.” It wasn’t a lie. Taye’s Pack was considered part of the Clan. “She ain’t comin’ back here.”

Leach’s chair scraped over the floor as he lunged to his feet and leaned over his desk. “But she’s my wife!”

One of Tracker’s shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Yours? And who else’s?” The venom in his own voice surprised Tracker. He seldom allowed emotion to color his tone.

“Now, see here—”

Tracker cut him off, his voice back in cool, emotionless control. “Why was her throat black and blue when I found her? Why does she scream in her sleep?”

Leach floundered, his face reddening. “She’s high-strung. A woman like her needs a firm hand.”

“Uh-huh.” If he had shown some remorse, Tracker might have decided to let him live. If he had shown concern for Tami’s well-being, Tracker might have gone on to the Clan and never come back to Greasy Butte. Instead, he gave Leach a long, steady look of contempt before he turned on his heel and left the house, planning the revenge he would take for Tami. He passed one of the councilmen on the porch, and was disappointed when the man didn’t try to stop him. He would die. And Leach would die, but only after he’d had time to feel regret for what he had done to Tami.

* * * *

In her weeks at the Plane Women’s House, Tami learned more than just how to deal with her trauma. She learned why Taye called his residence “the den” and his friends were called his Pack. Nearly all of them were his cousins or related to him somehow, but they weren’t called “the Wolves” because that was Taye’s last name. No, they were called the wolves because they were wolves. Literally, wolves.

On her third morning at the House, Tami was shivering in the yard, vigorously working the pump to get water to wash dishes with, Snake panting happily nearby, when Stag stepped out dressed in only his breechcloth. Tami felt colder than ever seeing him undressed like that in the raw November wind. He had long black hair he normally wore in either braids or a ponytail, but it was loose now, still damp from his morning bath. Tami shuddered at the thought of wet hair outside in the cold.

“Good morning,” he called casually, before dropping his breechcloth. Tami stared in frozen silence while he turned from handsome naked man to furry gray wolf. Tami’s heart pounded so hard she thought she might throw up. Her first thought when he stripped off what little he had on was horror. It made her think of what happened to her in Greasy Butte. But she forgot all of that when he turned into a wolf. A wolf! That revelation blew her nerves apart. She dropped the bucket and fell to her knees in the spilt water, retching, with one hand clutching Snake’s ruff. Snake, her faithful furry friend, betrayed her by turning into a naked man, too. He slung his strong, bare arm around her to steady her. But Tami flung him off and bolted for her room. She tore through the kitchen, ignoring everyone’s surprise, dashing past them to lock herself in her room.

“Miss Tami?” said a plaintive, unfamiliar male voice outside her door. “Are you all right? What’s wrong?”

“Men aren’t allowed up here. Go away before I call for help!” she shouted.

There was a moment of silence before the voice said, “Miss Tami, it’s me. Snake. Are you sick?”

She stared at the door in numb confusion. Then the hated tears started. Of course, Tami having a mini breakdown wasn’t so unusual. Since the time she had spent at Greasy Butte she had gone from a quiet, self-controlled, reliable woman to a sniveling nervous wreck. She cringed and tended to avoid men who came too close to her. Jodi and Dixie, in their first session, had said that was a normal reaction for her to have. Rape victims often developed problems with temper and unsteady emotions. Healing took time. As Jodi pointed out, a person who received a bad burn didn’t expect the burn to not hurt. And when any other heat source came near, the burn hurt would feel it more than unburned skin. Added to that was the grief they all were dealing with, from losing their friends and family and everything else from their old lives. All that made good sense, but it didn’t give Tami back her self-respect and pride.

Tami didn’t answer Snake. She dwelt on his name with bitter amusement. A werewolf named Snake? Oh, lord, she had petted him and scratched his ears like he was a poodle! She stayed locked in her room the rest of the morning, refusing to open to anyone. Just before lunch, when Tami should have been helping in the kitchen, the women from the den arrived for one of their visits. Tami could hear Snake’s anxious voice calling the Lupa to come check on Tami.

She couldn‘t hide forever. Tami got up and opened the door when Carla knocked. Carla and Glory came in and sat on the mattress.

“So,” Carla began hesitantly. “Snake says you’re upset.”

“I’m always upset these days,” Tami muttered. She had her arms clamped around herself in a futile effort to keep warm. The room was cold, but the chill was deep inside Tami, filling the empty place that used to hold her courage.

“More upset than usual,” Carla persisted. “Snake says you got sick in the yard this morning, and you’ve been hiding ever since.”

“I wasn’t sick!” Tami took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I was shocked,” she explained carefully. “You knew they were werewolves, didn’t you?”

“They’re not werewolves,” Glory huffed. “They’re wolves.”

Carla had a glimmer of a smile on her face. “You just found that out? No wonder you were shocked. Taye hates it when people call him a werewolf. Those creeps at Odessa call them ‘devil spawned werewolves’. Sure, we knew they’re wolves. We were just as shocked as you were when we found out.”

“Speak for yourself,” Glory said.

Carla turned to the large woman with the pink hair. “You weren’t shocked?”

“Well, I was drunk.” Glory spread her hands with a sheepish smile. “Nothing bothered me too much that night.”

Tami’s arms loosened their convulsive grip. “But you’re okay with it now? They don‘t hurt you?”

“No,” said Carla simply.

“Well.” Glory’s smile was sensually dreamy. “There was that one time…”

Carla slapped Glory’s arm. “No. No wolf will hurt you. Even if Taye hadn’t given orders about keeping you safe, no wolf would ever hurt you, in wolf form or man form.”

The sigh came out of Tami like a locomotive horn. “But how?
How
? It can’t be real.”

“Of course it’s real,” Carla said with patience. “Have you seen Snake or Stag turn?”

A shudder worked itself through Tami. “Yeah. This morning. First Stag and then Snake, while I had my arm around him.”

Glory laughed raucously. “No wonder you were shocked.”

“He was naked,” Tami hissed.

“Well, they usually take off their clothes to turn.” Carla sounded apologetic. “Otherwise they tear. Clothes are too precious to wreck.”

“I still don’t understand. Are they wolves or people? I mean, when they’re wolves, like Snake has been, are they still human inside? Can they think? Will they attack?”

Glory pushed her voice over Carla’s. “If someone tries to bother you they’ll attack. That’s for damn sure. But it’s not like in werewolf movies. The moon doesn’t mean diddly to them.”

“Taye told me once he’s not controlled by the moon. He’s a wolf, not a werewolf.”

Tami pushed her fingers through her short hair. “But when they are wolves can they still reason?”

Carla appeared to think it over. “Taye says it’s like he and his wolf both live in his body, but most of the time his wolf lives in a little box inside his head,” Carla explained. “When Taye opens the box and lets the wolf out, then Taye goes inside the little box.”

“Can they talk to each other?” asked Tami, reluctantly fascinated.

“No, not exactly talk. Taye says he can think at his wolf and sometimes he feels things from his wolf. Like when his wolf told him he wanted me for a mate.” Carla went pink and looked around self-consciously, but there was no one in Tami’s apartment at the moment except the three of them. “His wolf loves me, too, but not in the same way the man does.”

Tami said slowly, “Taye’s the Alpha wolf of his pack. And you’re his mate. They call you Lupa?”

“I’m the Alpha female. Actually, until just recently I was the only female.”

“I can take you,” Glory said, curling her arm to show off her bicep. For such a plump woman she had muscular arms. Tami wasn’t sure she was joking. “But I’ll be headed back to the Clan soon, so your position is safe.” Glory hefted her bulk off the mattress. “I’m starved. Lunch time?”

Tami’s questions still weren’t answered, and she still felt unsettled, but she couldn’t hide in here forever. The line of wolves in human shape was waiting patiently outside in the hall, an honor guard for their Lupa. Tami braced herself to walk past them. When she did, they quickly positioned themselves in front, around and behind the three women to escort them to the big room downstairs. The one with the broad shoulders and curly black hair was Snake. Tami hadn’t seen him too clearly this morning, but she remembered that curly hair. She didn’t remember the thin cotton plaid shirt or jeans. Snake, looking anxious, pressed so close to Tami she had to resist the urge to push him away and run back to her room. But it wasn’t his fault she was a basket case. He acted the way an overgrown kid brother would act. So she gave him a strained smile

As it was Tuesday afternoon, there were no courting couples crowding the room yet. But about a dozen townsmen were there, taking a break from their work on the house to drink water and nibble on Renee’s latest attempt at crackers and cheese spread. There were also the half-dozen wolves in man form, blocking the way of any man who might want to get too close to Carla. Tami felt a little more at ease knowing no man could get too close to her with them around. The werewolf thing still creeped her out, but she admitted they made fantastic guards.

After the women had gotten themselves soup and bread, they sat down at the table that had been put together by sawhorses and planks. Tami snuck peeks at the men. “Are they
all
wolves?” she asked hesitantly. “Those guys at the motel?”

“Nope,” said Glory cheerfully. She seemed happier and even more exuberant than usual to Tami. She was wearing what had become her signature outfit: a plain white T-shirt with her black satin bustier over it and low-waisted jeans. She was a big woman, but she had the curves to pull the outfit off. Tami would never have worn such a formfitting get-up, but on Glory it seemed right. “Only about half of the Clan are wolf-born, but Jill says more are turning with every generation. Weird, huh?”

“Weird,” Tami echoed. And then asked the question she really wanted to know the answer to. “Tracker? Is he a wolf?”

“No,” said Carla.

That was a relief. The werewolf thing just freaked her out. Now she understood Sherry’s reaction to Stag. It was because he was a werewolf. Sherry avoided him whenever possible, and barely spoke to him when she couldn’t avoid him. Although, to be strictly fair, Stag was never anything but kind and gentle to Sherry, and way more patient than Tami expected. Last night Sherry had screamed at him for something, saying she hated him. Stag had only looked sad and backed off enough to give her some space But Carla didn’t seem to feel that way about Taye at all.

Tami didn’t want to be rude, but she couldn’t help asking, “Doesn’t it bother you that you’re married to a werewolf?”

“No,” Carla said quietly. “I don’t mind that Taye’s a wolf. It was weird at first, but I’m used to it now. And there are advantages.”

“Yeah.” Glory’s smile was wicked. “Lots of stamina.”

Carla’s cheeks went from faint pink to poppy red. “I meant, he heals quicker.”

“Uh-huh,” Glory agreed. “And the hot animal sex is great, too. God, I’m glad Shadow’s back. I’m gonna miss Jill like crazy, but I can’t live without Shadow.”

“Shadow?” asked Tami politely.

“My mate,” Glory explained. “The day you left the den, he came for a visit, and I’ve decided I can’t let him go back to the Black Hills without me. So we’ll be leaving right after Thanksgiving. Unless I can talk him into staying a little longer. A few more hot showers before we go to live in the winter camp would be nice.”

Glory didn’t strike Tami as the type to rough it, even for love. But what did Tami know? Maybe she really loved her werewolf. “Renee is a whiz at cooking, even in one of these antique stoves. She’ll be giving pointers to the girls here on cooking Thanksgiving dinner.”

Thanksgiving was going to be hard this year on all of them. Thanksgiving was a time for family to get together, and none of them had their families anymore. Dixie and Jodi were organizing some group meetings for them all to be able to vent and grieve. Tami wondered if having Taye would be enough for Carla to not feel the pain. She didn’t think so. The three women spoke about it while they were eating, and alarmed their werewolf guards by crying a little. Glory recovered first, saying it didn’t bother her, since she probably wouldn’t have seen her folks anyway, but Tami didn’t believe her. Not entirely. Carla, though, was open about how much she would miss her brothers and parents at the holiday. She couldn’t quite control her sobs. Chad, one of the boyishly sweet young wolves, offered earnestly to kill something if that would help. The other wolves, in both man and wolf forms, glared at the townsmen in the room, daring them to approach their Lupa in her grief. Carla gave a watery laugh and wiped her eyes. Tami really didn’t think Chad had been joking.

Spirits somewhat restored, the three of them went to the front room. It was the only room in the place with the windows intact. The light coming through the thick glass gave Glory the illumination she needed to sketch. Glory amused herself and many people of the town by doing pencil sketches. Sometimes she used colored pencils, and occasionally she would paint the sketches and sell them for more drawing supplies or clothing. Hannah Martin, whose husband ran a store in town, was sewing another waist-cinching corset for her in exchange for a painting of her husband and little boy playing together. The black bustier Glory had brought from 2014 was getting stained, worn, and a little loose. They had all lost weight, in spite of the men’s almost comical efforts to make them gain weight. Stag was always putting more food on Sherry’s plate than any one person could eat, much less a tiny little woman who weighed less than one hundred pounds. Tami wondered if the corset would be finished before Glory and her husband left to go to the Black Hills.