The Uptown is a strip mall, Richlands oldest shopping center. Unlike its newer, upscale counterparts, the Uptown looks as though someone took a couple dozen stores of various styles and sizes, stuck them all together, and surrounded them with a parking lot.
It houses the sorts of businesses that wouldnt thrive in the bigger mall in Kennewick: nonchain restaurants, several antiques (junk) stores, a couple of resale clothing boutiques, a music store, a doughnut shop, a bar or two, and several shops best described as eclectic.
Phins bookstore was near the south end of the mall, its large picture windows tinted dark to protect the books from sun damage. Gilt lettering on the biggest window labeled it: BREWSTERS LIBRARY, USED AND COLLECTIBLE BOOKS.
There were no lights behind the shades in the windows, and the door was locked. I put my ear against the glass and listened.
In my human shape, I still have great hearing, not quite as sharp as the coyotes, but good enough to tell that there was no one moving around in the store. I knocked, but there was no response.
On the window to the right of the door was a sign with the hours the shop was open: ten to six Tuesday through Saturday. Sunday and Monday hours by appointment. The number listed was the one I already had. Six had come and gone.
I knocked on the door one last time, then glanced at my watch again. If I skirted the speed limit, Id have ten minutes before the wolf was at my door.
* * *
MY ROOMMATES CAR WAS IN THE DRIVEWAY, LOOKING right at home next to the 78 single-wide trailer where I lived. Very expensive cars, like true works of art, shape the environment to suit themselves. Just by virtue of being there, his car made my home upper-classno matter what the house itself looked like.
Samuel had the same gift of never being out of place, always fitting in, while at the same time he conveyed the sense that here was someone special, someone important. People liked him instinctively, and trusted him. It served him well as a doctor, but I was inclined to think it served him a little too well as a man. He was too used to getting his way. When charm didnt cut it, he used a tactical brain that would have done credit to Rommel.
Thus, his presence as my roommate.
It had taken me a while to figure out the real reason hed moved in with me: Samuel needed a pack. Werewolves dont do well on their own, especially not old wolves, and Samuel was a very old wolf. Old and dominant. In any pack except his fathers, he would be Alpha. His father was Bran, the Marrok, the most überwerewolf of them all.
Samuel was a doctor, and that was more than enough responsibility for him. He didnt want to be Alpha; he didnt want to stay in his fathers pack.
He was lone wolfing it, living with me in the territory of the Columbia Basin Pack, but not part of it. I wasnt a werewolf, but I wasnt a helpless human, either. Id been raised in his fathers pack, and that was close to being family. So far he and Adam, the local packs Alphaand my loverhadnt killed each other. I was moderately hopeful that would continue to be the case.
Samuel? I called as I rushed into the house. Samuel?
He didnt answer, but I could smell him. The distinctive odor of werewolf was too strong to be just a leftover trace. I jogged down the narrow hall to his room and knocked softly at the closed door.
It was unlike him not to acknowledge me when I got home.
I worried about Samuel enough to make myself paranoid. He wasnt quite right. Broken, but functional, I thought, with an underlying depression that seemed to be getting neither better nor worse as the months passed. His father suspected something was wrong, and I was pretty sure the reason Samuel was living with me and not in his own house in Montana was because he didnt want his father to know for certain how badly broken Samuel really was.
Samuel opened his door, looking his usual self, tall and rangy: attractive, as most werewolves are, regardless of bone structure. Perfect health, permanent youth, and lots of muscle are a pretty surefire formula for good looks.
You rang? he said in an expressionless imitation of Lurch, dropping his voice further into the bass register than Id ever heard him manage. Wed been watching a marathon ofThe Addams Family on TV last night. If he was being funny, he was all right. Even if he wasnt quite meeting my eyes, as if he might be worried about what Id see.
A purring Medea was stretched across one shoulder. My little Manx cat gave me a pleased look out of half-slitted eyes as he stroked her. As his hand moved along her back, she dug in her hind claws and arched her tailless butt into the air.
Ouch, he said, trying to pull her off, but shed gotten her claws through his worn flannel shirt and was hooked onto him tighter than Velcroand more painfully, too.
Uhm, I told him, trying not to laugh. Adam and I are going out tonight. Youre on your own for dinner. I didnt make it to the grocery store, so the pickings are meager.
His back was to me as he leaned over his bed so if he managed to unstick the cat, she wouldnt fall all the way to the floor.
Fine, he said. Ouch, cat. Dont you know I could eat you in a single bite? You wouldnt evenoucheven leave a tail sticking out.
I left him to it and hurried over to my own room. My cell rang before I made it to the doorway.
Mercy, hes headed over, and Ive got some news for you, said Adams teenage daughters voice in my ear.
Hey, Jesse. Where are we going tonight?
Thinking of him, I could feel his anticipation and the smooth leather of the steering wheel under his handsbecause Adam wasnt just my lover; he was my mate.
In werewolf terms, that meant something slightly different for every mated pair. We were bound not just by love, but by magic. Ive learned that some mated pairs can barely perceive the difference . . . and some virtually become the same person. Ugh. Thankfully, Adam and I fell somewhere in the middle. Mostly.
Wed overloaded the magic circuit between us when wed first sealed our bond. Since then it had proved to be erratic and invasive, flickering in and out for a few hours, then gone again for days. Disconcerting. I expect Id have gotten used to having the connection to Adam already if it were consistent, as Adam assured me it should have been. As it was, it tended to take me by surprise.
I felt the wheel vibrate under Adams hand as he started the car, then he was gone, and I was standing in my grubbies talking to his daughter on the phone.
Bowling, she said.
Thanks, kid, I told her. Ill bring back an ice-cream cone for you. Gotta shower.
You owe me five bucks, though ice cream wouldnt hurt, she told me with a mercenary firmness I could respect. Youd better shower fast.
Adam and I had a game, a just-for-fun thing. His wolf playing with me, I thought, because it had that feel: a simple game with no losers was wolf play, something they did with the ones they loved. It didnt happen often in the pack as a whole, but among smaller groups, yes.
My mate wouldnt tell me where he was taking usleaving it for me to discover his plans by whatever means necessary. It was a sign of his respect that he expected me to be successful.
Tonight, Id bribed his daughter to call me with whatever she knew, even if it was just what he was wearing when he walked out the door. Then Id be appropriately dressedthough Id act astonished that we matched so well when I hadnt a clue where he was taking me.
Play for flirting, but also play designed to distract both of us from the reason we were dating instead of living together as mates. His pack didnt like it that his mate was a coyote shifter. Even more than their natural brethren, wolves dont share territory well with other predators. But theyd had a long time to get used to it, and were mostly resigneduntil Adam brought me into the pack. It shouldnt have been possible. Ive never heard of a nonwerewolf mate becoming pack.
I set out clothes to wear and hopped into the shower. The showerhead was set low, so it wasnt hard to keep my braids out of the full force of the water as I scrubbed my hands with pumice soap and a nailbrush. Id already cleaned up, but every little bit helped. A lot of the dirt was ingrained, and my hands would never look fashion-model tended.
When I emerged from the bathroom in a towel, I could hear voices in the living room. Samuel and Adam were deliberately keeping it soft enough that I couldnt hear the words, but it didnt sound like there was any tension. They liked each other just fine, but Adam was Alpha and Samuel a lone wolf who outpowered him. Sometimes they had trouble being in the same room together, but evidently not tonight.
I started to reach for the jeans Id laid out on my bed.
Bowling.
I hesitated. I just couldnt see it in my head. Not the bowling partI was sure that Adam enjoyed bowling. Throwing a weighty ball at a bunch of helpless pins and watching the resultant mayhem is just the kind of thing that werewolves love.
What I couldnt see was Adam telling Jesse he was taking me bowling. Not when he was trying to keep it from me. The last time all shed been able to do was tell me what he was wearing when he left the house.
Maybe I was just being paranoid. I opened my closet and looked at the meager pickings hanging there. I had more dresses than Id had a year ago. Three more.
Jesse would have noticed if hed dressed up.
I glanced at the bed where my new jeans and a dark blue T-shirt summoned me with their comfort. Bribes can go both waysand Jesse would find it amusing to play double agent.
So I pulled out a pale gray dress, classy enough that I could wear it to all but the most formal of occasions and not so dressy that it would look out of place at a restaurant or theater. If we really went bowling, I could bowl in the dress. I slipped into the dress and quickly unbraided my hair and brushed it out.
Mercy, arent you ready yet? asked Samuel, a touch of amusement in his voice. Didnt you say you had a hot date?
I opened the door and saw I hadnt gotten it quite right. Adam was wearing a tux.
Adam is shorter than Samuel, with the build of a wrestler and the face of . . . I dont know. It is Adams face, and it is beautiful enough to distract people from the air of power that he conveys. His hair is dark, and he keeps it short. He told me once that it is so the military personnel that he has to deal with in the course of his security business feel comfortable with him. But these last few months, as Ive gotten to know him better, I think it is because his face embarrasses him. The short hair removes any hint of vanity, and says, Here I am. Lets get down to business.
I would love him if he had three eyes and two teeth, but sometimes his beauty just hits me. I blinked once, took a deep breath, and brushed off the need to proclaim himmine so I could pull my mind back to interactive mode.
Ah, I said, snapping my fingers, I knew Id forgotten something. I ran back to my closet and snagged a sparkly silver wrap that dressed the gray up appropriately.
I came back out to see Samuel giving Adam a five-dollar bill.
I told you shed figure it out, Adam said smugly.
Good, I told him. You can pay Jesse with that. She told me we were going bowling. I need to find a better spy.
He grinned, and I had to work to keep my face annoyed. Oddly enough, given his face, it wasnt the beauty of Adam-with-a-smile that delighted me when he grinnedthough he really was spectacular. It was the knowledge that Id made him smile. Adam was not given to . . . playfulness, except with me.
Hey, Mercy, Samuel said, as Adam opened the front door.
I turned to him, and he gave me a kiss on the forehead.
You be happy. The odd phrase caught my attention, but there was nothing odd in the rest of what he said. Ive got the red-eye shift. Most likely I wont see you when you get back. He looked up at Adam, meeting his eyes in a male-to-male challenge that had Adams eyes narrowing. Take care of her. Then he pushed us out and closed the door before Adam could take offense at the order.
After a long moment, Adam laughed and shook his head. Dont worry, he said, knowing the other wolf would hear him through the door. Mercy takes care of herself; I just get to clean up the mess afterward. If I hadnt been watching his face, I wouldnt have seen the twist on his lips as he spoke. As if he didnt like what he was saying very much.
I felt suddenly self-conscious. I like who I ambut there are plenty of men who wouldnt. I am a mechanic. Adams first wife had been all soft curves, and I am mostly muscle. Not very feminine, my mother liked to complain. And then there were those idiosyncrasies that were the aftermath of rape.
Adam held out his hand to me, and I put mine in his. He had gotten very good at inviting my touch. At not touching me first.
I looked at our clasped hands as we went down the porch stairs. Id thought that I was getting better, that the involuntary flinching, the fear, was leaving. It occurred to me that maybe he was just getting better at working around my fears.
Whats wrong? he asked, as we stopped beside his truck.
It was so new there was still a sticker on the rear-seat window. Hed replaced his SUV after one of his wolves had dented the fender defending mefollowed by a separate incident when an ice elf (honking huge fae) who was chasing me dropped the front half of a building on it.
Mercy He frowned at me. You dont owe me for the damned truck.
His hand was still holding mine, and I had a moment to realize that our fickle mate bond had given him an insight into what I was thinking, before a vision dropped me to my knees.
* * *
IT WAS DARK, AND ADAM WAS AT HIS COMPUTER IN HIS home office. His eyes burned, his hands ached, and his back was stiff from so many hours of work.
The house was quiet. Too quiet. No wife to protect from the world. It had been a long time since hed loved herit is dangerous to love someone who doesnt love you in return. Hed been a soldier too long to put himself deliberately in danger without a good reason. She loved his status, his money, and his power. Shed have loved it better if it had belonged to someone who did as she told him.
He didnt love her, but hed loved taking care of her. Loved buying her little presents, loved the idea of her.