Silver-Steel Page 2

  Michella was nearly as angry as he was, while Drusilla sat and ignored them both, scanning messages on her phone. A heavy step echoed on the stairs from the basement, and Lukas Blacque stepped into the kitchen.

  Without looking at the small group gathered, Lukas crossed to the sink and poured a glass of water. A moment later Oliver Bleu glided into the room. He rested a hand on Lukas’s shoulder and gazed at him, then finally nodded and left the house.

  So much said, and all unspoken.

  Lukas turned and looked at them, taking occasional sips as he studied one after the other.

  “She’s banged up, but she’ll be okay. She’s got a concussion, though. Travis, if you want, you guys can stay over tonight. She’s settled in and dozing. We’ll need to wake her every hour or so.”

  “Okay.” Travis was aware of a knot in his chest. He should have been relieved, but instead he felt…smaller. His mother was a skilled healer, yet he had no clue how to help her when she needed it.

  “Michella, tell me what happened.”

  Travis went tight again, looking at his white knuckles. Lukas was following protocol, but damn it, that was his mother! Unbidden, a growl escaped. Blacque gave him a narrow look, and Travis locked down his anger.

  “Melody was running with the others, a group of seven or eight. They crossed the highway, and she fell behind. She darted out into the road without looking and ran in front of a car. She tripped and shifted in full view of the driver.” To her credit, Michella was trying to be neutral. But then, Lukas had not only taken her down in a pack challenge last year; he’d also agreed to father her child. Michella might be pregnant and hormonal, but she wasn’t stupid. And she wasn’t bad or evil either. None of them were; they were wolves.

  Lukas sat down, avoiding the chair Dane usually sat in. Absently he rubbed his head where his razor cut was growing out. Side by side, he and Drusilla looked about as different as two people could appear. Dru was elegant and cool. Her black hair cascaded down her back in a glossy tail. Her dark eyes were smoky and sharp, her lips red and lush. Next to her, Lukas was still wearing work clothes. The sleeves of his denim shirt were torn off, revealing massive, muscular arms. Tattoos wound up his dark skin. Though it was short, his hair was thick and black; his face was harsh yet handsome.

  Different as they appeared, they were incredibly similar and favored their father, Dane. Though he shared their sire, Travis looked more like his mother. He lacked their height and Dane’s bulk. His hair was black but laced with dark streaks that looked blue in the sun. His eyes were blue with thick fringes of black lashes, and his skin was fair. In the summer, freckles peppered his straight, pert nose. Like Dane, his half siblings were larger than life. As for Travis? He was the son of an omega, and he looked the part. And he hated it. So he folded his hands tightly together and waited until Michella finished her story.

  “So this group went for an unauthorized run, crossed out of pack territory, and left the city limits?” Blacque arched one dark brow, and Travis felt a glimmer of something. Hope? Justice, maybe? Across the table Michella fidgeted. “Shel, I’m confused. With all the shit that went down tonight, you choose to punish Melody? As long as I’ve known her, she’s never been a rule breaker. The rest of that group led, and she followed. You mind telling me how she came to be with them in the first place?”

  “They never had time for her before, unless they planned to give her a hard time.”

  Lukas glowered at Travis but continued on. “I know Nancy and Deb are your friends, but why would you choose to overlook their disobedience? By leading a run outside city limits without a dominant present, they put a lot of lives at risk, including Melody’s.”

  “That isn’t the point right now, Blacque. She shifted in front of humans!”

  “So we’ll be glad it happened late at night.” He folded his brawny arms and leaned back in the chair, gazing around the table. “Travis, how’d you get those black eyes and busted mouth?”

  Travis bit his sore lip and glanced at Michella. His cheeks went hot in embarrassment, and he looked away, only to meet Drusilla’s gaze.

  “Michella hit him.”

  “Dammit, Dru!” He dropped his head in his hands, mortified.

  Michella glared at them both. “I didn’t… He had those bruises before.”

  “She slapped me, okay? But no, the black eyes…nothing to do with pack. So lay the fuck off.”

  “Michella, you hit him?” Of course Lukas ignored his words. Energy began to build in the room, compelling Travis to speak, to tell the truth. He squirmed under his brother’s attention. Dane could lay the power on, but he wielded his mojo with a surgical skill Lukas hadn’t yet developed. This felt like heat and pressure all rolled into one big alpha smackdown. And of course, Travis broke.

  “Lukas, it was no big deal.” He pushed back the chair, ready to bolt but not knowing where the hell to go. His mother was in one of the basement bedrooms and needed him. With an effort, Travis calmed, slowing his heart and breathing deeply. One by one he loosened his fingers from the fists he’d formed. “The black eyes are from a bar fight. I said something I shouldn’t have.”

  “To a human?” That expressive black brow arched again, this time in humor.

  “Yeah, well… He was big. And he had friends.”

  Lukas snorted but let up on him. For a few long moments all Travis heard was the ticking of the old clock hanging over the doorway.

  “Michella?” Another surge of energy and the beta gave in.

  She sighed. “I popped my temper and took it out on him. And I’m sorry.”

  “You’d have hit my mother if I hadn’t stopped you.” Travis glared up at her, glad to see a dark stain of shame spread over her face. “She’d already been hurt. Nancy and her nasty little bitch crew goaded her into a run she couldn’t keep up with. They led her out of town, and she almost died. Makes me wonder if they ever intended for her to come home!”

  Michella gasped, fighting to control her temper.

  “I know she’s the omega. She’s the bottom of the heap, but does she deserve to be hurt and then beaten by the person who’s supposed to protect her?”

  Lord. He’d gone too far this time. The beta’s energy filled the room, hot, prickly, and wild. His own rose in challenge. Michella’s chair scraped as she pushed back. Instinctively Travis sat up straight, ready to take the attack head-on. Instead Lukas stood and leaned forward over the table.

  “Knock. It. Off. Both of you.” He glared at Travis, who sank back in his chair. “Michella, I know you feel like shit, but you’d damn well better get yourself under control. If you can’t, I’m sending you home to your wife, and you can stay there till Dane gets back.” He didn’t look away from her as he spoke. “Travis, tone down the mojo, and stop goading her.”

  He let out his breath in disbelief. Mojo? Not likely. He was a pup compared to the assembled dominants surrounding him. He looked at Drusilla for support, but she only narrowed her eyes and shook her head. She took a deep breath and spoke.

  “Shel, studies have shown that violence has a negative effect on the unborn.” The beta froze in her chair, her face draining of color. Drusilla was vice principal at the local high school and beginning a doctorate program in education. Michella might not like her, but she respected her. “I know you’re being driven by hormones, but you have a brain. Use it. That little baby can hear and sense whatever’s happening in your life. Get some control over yourself. If not for the sake of the pack, do it for the sake of your baby.”

  She left out any reference to herself as the child’s aunt. Lukas tightened his jaw but remained quiet. The baby was of his body, but Michella had made it clear: the child belonged to her and her wife. Blacque might have been okay with that at the start, but he was clearly having a hard time with it now. In fact, his quiet temper was rising. Lukas stood, paced the room, and gazed out the window into the darkness. Was Oliver Bleu out there waiting?

  Lukas gave the beta a few minutes to regain control b
efore returning to the table. Travis had to wonder—did a mother’s mood really affect her baby? Did she feel the violence of her mother?

  Lukas sat down again. “Melody’s taken enough punishment for tonight. Same with Travis. Sounds to me like she was taken advantage of and Travis was defending her. As he should. So—”

  Michella started to speak, then stopped herself when Lukas shot her a dark look.

  “So that’s enough with them. Tomorrow I want Nancy and anyone else who participated in the run to report here at dawn. We need extra hands in the orchard right now. We’ve got to clean up and prep for winter. After that, they’re on community service for the winter. There are several seniors around town who need help with chores. We’re doing gutters this week and wrapping pipes. Travis is coordinating work crews. They’ll report to him.”

  He and Michella faced off, and she dropped her gaze first.

  “No unsupervised runs. If they want to run, they go with the pack on Sundays or with an elder. No exceptions.”

  “But…” She swallowed down her angry outburst. “Lukas, the driver of that car saw her shift!”

  “It was late. The driver was probably heading into Arcada. If that’s the case, he’ll keep his mouth shut. Otherwise, the alpha will be home in a day or two. He can come up with a cover story. Whatever the case, we’ll manage it. Chances are the driver was so shocked at hitting a wolf in the road he didn’t notice the woman. If he did, hitting her probably scared him even more.”

  “Until then, I’d say our biggest concern should be Melody.” Drusilla mirrored the look Blacque frequently wore. She cocked a brow, and sarcasm filled her voice. “I’d say her well-being takes priority over the off chance that we were outed to humans.”

  Michella nodded curtly. She glanced at the steps leading to the downstairs rooms and then turned her back. She’d listened and heard but still rejected the wounded omega. Maybe she was ashamed. Maybe she felt disgust for someone weaker than she. Whatever it was, she walked out, and Travis sat there feeling the size of an ant.

  “It wasn’t Mama’s fault,” he said.

  “We know it wasn’t, Travis.” Lukas stared at him steadily, and emotion washed over Travis. Fear for his mother. Frustration with his inability to stand up for her. Shame for not being out there tonight. He’d come to the clearing on a hunch when he’d arrived home and Melody wasn’t waiting.

  He pushed back his chair and turned away from his siblings. He headed down the stairs and found his mother’s room by scent. It was dark inside, and she slept fitfully.

  God, he had to get away from here—away from his family, from the burden of protecting his sweet, vulnerable mother. In truth most of the grief she’d suffered had been caused by him. Melody Feris hadn’t been equipped to raise the son of an alpha. He’d been a tough kid, always in trouble, constantly searching for more.

  He slipped inside the room and sat on the floor, his back to the wall. The dim light of an electric clock glowed in the darkness, ticking off the minutes until an hour had passed. He woke her gently, stroking silky hair from her forehead. Once she was asleep again, he stared at the clock and watched it tick away his life.

  Chapter 2

  Dylan Ryve prowled the forest, cursing every time he encountered the invisible line protecting Arcada from the outside world. It didn’t matter if he hiked through the woods or drove in on the highway; when he hit the barrier, he’d find himself somewhere other than his destination. It was there, invisible and elusive, but his senses told him to stop, to go no farther. The town didn’t want him. He knew it, and the odd little town knew he sensed its rejection.

  He held out his hand, fingers hovering mere inches from that unseen barrier. If he touched the damn thing, he’d end up in some godforsaken spot miles away. Still, the proximity of the potent magic caused the marks on his wrists to glow brighter than the full moon in the sky. He glanced up appraisingly. Not quite full—not anymore.

  A cynical half smile flitted over his lips like a moth. Last night had given him a surprise: evidence that what he hunted truly did exist. He’d been attempting another run at the city limits and had just reached the point where the NORMALVILLE, USA sign came into view. To his shock and then horror, a small white wolf darted into his headlights. For a brief moment terrified human eyes glowed in his high beams, and then a sickening thud rocked the car as the fender of his sedan clipped her.

  He had no time to react; she was gone, and so was he—about twenty miles to the west. In the months he’d been seeking Arcada, this was the closest the town had come to showing him a hint of her slip.

  Granted, he’d caught sight of a few wandering vamps and a shifter or two, but this time he’d witnessed what the town didn’t want him to see, and it whetted his appetite for more.

  He increased his pace, eventually becoming a blur in the darkness. He moved with hardly a sound, the soft leather boots he wore gentle on the soil. His clothing blended into the shadows. If he waited long enough, perhaps another Arcadan would venture out to the dangerous side of the tracks. Then he just might have a way in, because the bitch city protected her own.

  After finding a likely spot to hide, Dylan settled in, listening to the silence all around him. Soon the night birds would resume their conversations, accompanied by the songs of frogs and crickets and the hum of insects. His presence would cease to alarm them, and Dylan would become just another thread in the tapestry of the night. He closed his eyes and let go, searching for a tendril of a dream, enough to allow him to look inside without actually being there.

  With the door locked behind him, Travis stared into the bathroom mirror. The black eyes were healed, and the bruises Michella’d graced him with had faded away. He ran the tip of his tongue over a tooth; the edge was still slightly jagged, but one or two more shifts would bring his dental woes to an end. He tried a smile and was pleased to see the chip was almost unnoticeable now. He rubbed his chest and belly through the thin fabric of his T-shirt, wincing only slightly at the residual discomfort. In all he was healing up pretty well. What a difference a day made.

  Time to head on out and see what other damage he could do.

  Yeah, right. The harm was done, and he nearly always carried it. Someday he’d learn to block. Better yet, someday he’d learn to keep his hands to himself and his big mouth shut.

  Not today, though.

  Travis rolled his shoulders and flexed his neck; already the jitters had settled in. Adrenaline spiked his system, giving him a rush no drug could duplicate. Fear and anticipation made him just as big a junkie as any tweaker out there in the city. Cool thing was he got his fix on the cheap. Down in his pants his shaft thickened—not an erection, but awareness of his fear and anticipation.

  He shut off the light and closed the door, then moved quietly through the tiny house he shared with his mother. The scent of turkey hung in the air. They’d had dinner at the main house, but there’d been plenty left over. Dane still wasn’t home, and while all the little sibs and cousins adored Blacque, they missed their dad. His mother wasn’t fully recovered, so they’d left early, taking covered plates and containers full of food pressed on them by some of the older women. It was a nice gesture, and it reminded Travis that not all the women in the pack were bitches.

  “Travis?”

  “Yes, ma’am?” He smiled and peeked into the living room, where she was curled up in an overstuffed recliner. She was tiny, and he liked to tease her about the man-size chair she favored. In the massive piece of furniture, Melody looked more like a kitten than a wolf. Her soft black hair waved gently from a ridiculous little ponytail she’d tied at the crown of her head. She wore pink flannel pajamas and fuzzy scuff slippers. His heart twisted when he looked at her. A fading bruise smeared her cheek, and her lower lip was still swollen. He worried about leaving her alone so soon. Unlike him, she healed slowly for a shifter. He reached up and slid his fingers into the frame of the doorway, waiting for her to speak.

  He wanted to order her to stay home,
to avoid the other pack females. Not all were bad, but once the bullying started, they all heaped onto their victim. His mom was the omega and the most vulnerable of the group, but she wasn’t their only target. In fact, the women who’d gone on orchard detail would be taking some guff from the others. It was the way of the wild. He understood but didn’t have to like it.

  “Are you going out with the pack?” They always did a run on the holidays. November was the gateway to winter, and a midnight run sounded excellent. But tonight he had other plans. His body ached for sensation, and his brain scrambled for distraction.

  “Nah. Thought I’d go out for some pool.” A flicker of concern ran through her eyes, but Melody said nothing to deter him. If she’d just tell him to stay home… But she didn’t. She wouldn’t. His mother had complete and utter faith in him.

  “You’ve got your phone with you?”

  He held it up so she could see it. “All charged, and it’s set to vibrate as well as ring.”

  Relief showed briefly in her face. “You make sure and let me know if you’re staying out late.”

  Their code for “don’t drive under the influence.” Unlike many of the wolves, Travis was a cheap drunk. Well, for a wolf, that is. He had a few other wicked tendencies as well, but he never brought that stuff home. Chances were his own father would bust him.

  “Will do.” He entered the dim room and saw she’d been reading but had set the book aside. Most likely a romance. It made him smile. His mama was the eternal optimist. She’d never been in love, had only followed the stirring of her body when she and Dane got together to make him. As far as he knew, Melody Feris had never allowed a man into her heart. A woman either. He had to change his way of thinking now that some of the more powerful members of the pack were coming out of their respective closets. It was liberating but slightly frightening. He wasn’t sure he had that sort of nerve.