Wolfsong (59 page)

“Try.”

He narrowed his eyes at me but took my hand in his, our fingers meshing together. “I guess it’s like—okay, it’s probably stupid to say
instinct
and that you wouldn’t understand because you’re not a wolf, but it’s not like that. I think you’re more wolf than man these days.”

He sounded proud about that. I didn’t understand why.

“This is my home,” he said. “It’s where my father grew up, like his father, his
father’s
father. We were meant to be here. There’s a certain… magic in it, I guess. Not like Gordo’s magic, but something that runs through the ground beneath our feet. It recognizes me. The pack. The Alphas. When things get frayed—broken—it feels it.”

“And you broke it,” I said without meaning to. “When you cut us off, you broke it.”

He winced, but nodded. “Yeah, I guess I did.” Then, “You felt it, didn’t you?”

I remembered that feeling in my head and chest when I’d woken up that morning. The two words on my phone.

I’m sorry.

Yeah. I’d felt it.

“There was something,” I said as levelly as possible.

He looked pained at that. “Ox, I—”

I didn’t want to hear it. I was done with apologies. They didn’t help us, not anymore. “We’re good, Joe.”

“Are we?”

“We’re getting there,” I amended, because it was closer to the truth.

“Which is why it’s up to me to fix it,” he said. “It’s not you, Ox. Why you can’t feel them. Not yet. It’s me. I divided us. And I’m trying to fix it.”

“How?”

He grinned. “Communing with nature, of course.”

“I still don’t get it,” I said, thinking about my father.

He said, “Hey, Ox. That’s okay. I get it enough for the both of us. I’ll fix this. I’ll fix everything. You trust me, right?”

Most might not have heard the doubt in his voice, the little sliver that pushed its way in at the end. But I’d known him since he was ten years old. We were just Ox and Joe and I knew him, probably better than anyone else. Even if he wasn’t the boy who’d left that day years ago.

There really was only one answer to his question.

So I said, “Yeah, Joe. I guess I do.”

SOMETIMES WHEN
I couldn’t sleep, even with Joe beside me, I’d walk out into the trees. Gordo didn’t like that I did that, but I’d told him I wasn’t worried, because I had faith in his wards, that I had faith in him.

He’d said he would deny till his dying day if I told anyone that he got choked up over that.

On nights like that, I’d put on some shorts and one of Joe’s shirts. I’d kiss him on the forehead as he slept on. I’d head outside into the dark, the air cool on my skin.

And I’d just walk.

It usually took less than an hour before a white wolf would catch up to me, padding along beside me, brushing up against me. We didn’t speak much, but he was always there until we crawled back up into bed. Sometimes, he’d shift back. Other times, he’d stay as a wolf and we’d lie on the floor since the bed was too small. I’d take the blankets down and he’d curl up next to me, his gigantic head on my chest, rising and falling with every breath I took, red eyes watching me until I drifted off back to sleep.

NOTHING CAME
for us in that first month.

Or the second.

There were rumors. Whispers.

“They tracked him north,” Michelle Hughes told us over Skype, “toward Canada.”

I frowned at the screen. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would he be heading away from us?”

“He’s not,” Joe said, a faraway look in his eyes.

“No,” Michelle said. “I don’t think he is.”

“A distraction,” I said.

“Misdirection, more like,” Michelle said. She looked tired, dark circles under her eyes. “I don’t know what he’s planning, but it’s not anything good. My teams went north, but the trail just… ended. One moment they thought they were close, and the next there was nothing there.”

“How can he do that?” I asked. “Can you fake a specific wolf’s scent?”

“Magic,” Joe said.

“Robert Livingstone,” Michelle agreed. “Most likely. Joe, are you sure we can’t come to—”

“We’ve already talked about this,” Joe said, eyes flashing crimson.

“And you’re being stupid about it,” she growled right back.

“I have the people here I trust,” he said. “That’s all we need.”

I hoped he was right.

THERE
WAS
a trust there. However small. However fragile.

But it was starting to build.

I saw it in the way the humans began to relax around Carter and Kelly. They looked less tense, less suspicious.

I saw it in the way that Gordo laughed at something Rico said. Or the way he bumped shoulders with Chris as they walked side by side. Or the way he hugged Tanner wherever they said good-bye.

I saw it in the way Robbie grew shy anytime Kelly walked into the room, blushing slightly, eyes darting toward the ground. Kelly would always look confused at this, but he never pushed it.

I saw it in the way we moved together. We weren’t in sync. Not yet. But we were getting there. We were finding the rhythm, the cadence we needed. I didn’t quite understand it myself, but their eyes were always on whatever doorway I walked through, like they were expecting me. They did the same with Joe.

It was in the way they spoke.

Carter said, “You can feel it, can’t you? The bonds. The threads. I’ve never had this, Ox. I’ve never had a pack this big.”

Kelly said, “I don’t understand. Why does he keep making those faces at me? Why does he stutter every time I try talking to him? I didn’t
do
anything to Robbie. I don’t get why he’s acting weird.”

Robbie said, “I don’t even know what to say to him! I don’t even
know
him. Anytime I try and talk to him, I forget how to talk and—oh my god, are you
laughing
at me? You’re a fucking bastard, Ox, I swear to god.”

Jessie said, “I tried going out with some girlfriends. We were at dinner, and they were laughing about… I don’t know what. And all I could think about was how they weren’t
there
, you know? They weren’t… in my head. Like the others. And it was
empty
for me. Ox, I swear to god, if you’ve ruined a normal life for me outside of this, I will punch you in your spleen.”

Chris said, “She’ll do it too. Trust me. When she was seven, I accidentally—ow,
fine
, it was on purpose, stop
hitting
me, for fuck’s sake—left one of her Barbies on a heating vent. It melted its face and looked… well, it looked just awesome. She didn’t think so. I still have a scar on my elbow from where she attacked me with her fingernails.”

Tanner said, “He’s different. Gordo. Maybe it’s just because I know about the whole witch thing now. Maybe that colors it. But I don’t know if that’s
all
of it. He’s different, you know? Since he came back. He’s… quieter. And more centered, maybe. I think he needed a pack, Ox. I know he had us, but I don’t think it was the same. I think his magic needed someone.”

Gordo said, “I couldn’t breathe. When we were gone. Not like I can here. Not like I can when I’m with you. I know you get it. I know we don’t really… talk. About stuff like this. Feelings or whatever. It’s not who we are. But, Ox, you let me breathe. I never wanted to leave you. I just—I’m. I had a pack. That night, something… I did what I had to. Or, my magic did. I bound myself to him. To Joe. But I need you to know. I was always bound to you first.”

Rico said, “If you had told me five years ago that I’d be in a werewolf pack with a kid half my age as my
alfa
who was also butt-fucking the other
alfa
—don’t you glare at me like that, Ox, you know it’s true—I would have asked if I could have some of whatever you were on. Life is… strange. Green Creek is strange.”

Elizabeth said, “I started painting again. First time in three years I picked up a paintbrush and it didn’t scare me. Oh sure, the idea of creating something new is
always
scary, but the act itself is cathartic. Liberating. I don’t know what phase I’m in now, Ox. But I’m going to do my best to find out. Maybe green. I feel green, Ox. Do you feel it too?”

Joe said, “I can feel them.”

Joe said, “I can feel all of them.”

Joe said, “Little pinpricks of light.”

Joe said, “My father taught me an Alpha is only as strong as his pack.”

Joe said, “Ox.
Ox
. Don’t you see? Can’t you feel it? Our pack is
strong
.”

Joe said, “And it can only get stronger. I think—”

Joe said, “I think he would have been proud. Dad. I think he would have been proud of me. Of you. Of us.”

Mark said, “It’s your heartbeat.”

“WHAT?” I
asked, glancing up at Mark who sat across from me in the diner. Mark had wandered into the shop, telling me he was taking me to lunch. I wasn’t surprised when we sat in the same booth he’d sat in the day I’d met him. Things seemed to always work out that way.

He was watching me with those same eyes I’d first seen when I’d barely been able to grasp the scope of the world. “How they move. How
we
move.”

I frowned. “Did I say that out loud?”

“No.”

I sighed. “Of course not. Fucking werewolves.”

He grinned. “I know these things.”

“I know you do. At what cost, though, Mark? I’ll
tell
you the cost. My sanity. And my fucking
privacy
.”

“Should have thought of that before you became an Alpha.”

“Like I had a choice in the matter.”

His smile softened. “You had a choice, Ox. You know that as well as I do.”

“Yeah,” I said.

The waitress came over and took our orders. She smiled flirtatiously at Mark, but he just ordered a tuna melt and didn’t react.

“I’m also your second,” he said as she walked away. “The enforcer. That’s how I know these things.”

That… gave me pause. Because we’d never discussed that.

He waited.

And, really, it made sense. “Okay, then.”

“You really didn’t know that.”

“I never really thought about it.”

“You still don’t have to,” he pointed out. “It doesn’t change things.”

“Who is Joe’s—never mind. Carter.”

Mark looked pleased.

“Heartbeats?” I reminded him.

“It’s how a pack works,” he said. “How we move in sync with each other.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s your heartbeat,” Mark said. “And Joe’s. We move with you because we listen to the sound of your heart.”

“But the humans—”

“They follow our lead,” he said. “And yours. Until it becomes second nature.”

“That’s what we did with Thomas?” I asked quietly, because suddenly things made much more sense. How we’d been with him. How they were with me. How Carter, Kelly, and Gordo were with Joe.

Mark said, “Yes. You didn’t hear it. Not like we could. But you moved with us. Over time. And now we do it with you. And Joe.”

We became lost in our own thoughts then. The waitress eventually brought out our food. Mark’s foot was pressed up against mine, touching, always touching.

I looked down at my soup and said, “I’m glad we’re friends. Still. After all this time.”

He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. I think the pounding of my heart spoke for the both of us.

AT SOME
point during the third month, we became cohesive.

There were still times where we clashed. You couldn’t have twelve people together like that and always get along.

But the clashes were few and far between, and were always shut down before they could escalate into something more.

Most stayed at either the Bennett house or the old house more often than they didn’t. Joe and I didn’t think to move from my old bedroom, even though the bed was too cramped. We fell asleep together, we woke together. We would rise in the mornings, him to take the wolves out into the woods, me to lead the boys to the garage, Jessie to work, a line of cars rolling through Green Creek in the early hours.

No matter what, though, every morning Joe would touch the wolf he’d given me, that little stone wolf that sat on my desk. He’d run his fingers over it, over the head and down the back to the tail. There would be a look of such reverence on his face, like he couldn’t believe I’d kept it, that I still wanted to keep it.

Without fail, we’d be late, because I’d have him pressed up against a wall, groaning as I sucked on his tongue.

He’d push for more. For me to fuck him. For him to fuck me.

But I couldn’t. Not yet.

I’d seen what had happened to Elizabeth when Thomas had died.

I’d seen how far she’d gone into her wolf.

If something happened to me now, well. I knew they would be upset. They’d feel it down to their bones. Joe might not recover. Or he would, and be stronger for it.

But if we were
mated
and something happened to me?

I didn’t think Joe could come back from that.

Because being mated meant being more than we were now.

He wanted it. I knew that.
I
wanted it more than anything else.

But I couldn’t do that to him. Just in case. I couldn’t take that chance.

Most likely we’d always have something over our heads. But I couldn’t think of anything worse than Richard Collins.

I told myself again and again that once he was gone, I would take everything Joe would give me.

Because Richard
would
be gone. He
wouldn’t
take this from me. From us. We were stronger than we’d ever been before. We were together. We were a
pack
like we’d never been before, all of us. We worked together. We lived together. We ate together. We were a family, and I’d already lost too many people to ever allow anyone else to be taken from me again. If it meant giving up my own life to make sure they were safe, then fine. So be it. As long as they were safe, I would have done my job as Alpha.