Gray Bishop
Titles by Kelly Meade
Cornerstone Run Trilogy
Black Rook
Gray Bishop
Gray Bishop
Kelly Meade
InterMix Book, New York
INTERMIX
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
GRAY BISHOP
An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author
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ISHING HISTORY
InterMix eBook edition / October 2014
Copyright © 2014 by Kelly Meding.
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Two Years Ago
At the first thump of her husband’s boots on the front porch, Jillian rose carefully from the rocking chair she’d been favoring for the last month or so and walked toward the front door. Derek rushed inside on a wash of cool autumn air, his face already a mask of guilt and chagrin.
“I know we’re late, sweetheart,” he said, dropping a kiss onto her forehead. “Give me two minutes to change shirts and we can go.”
“I already called my father and said we’d be late, so feel free to take five,” Jillian replied with a tolerant smile.
“You’re too generous.”
Managing Daley Farms Market, the twenty-thousand-square-foot heart of income for the loup garou population of Springwell, Delaware, was a fifty-hour-a-week task that Derek took seriously and did well. He’d taken the position of general manager in January, only a week after they married, as a wedding gift from her father.
Joseph Reynolds had been managing the market for thirty years, after taking over from his own father. Stepping back and turning the market over to Derek was the first step in giving Derek leadership of the run as Alpha—a position he had married into, and that Jillian wholeheartedly believed he would excel at. She looked forward to being the run’s Alpha female and setting an example for her people the same way her late mother had.
Jillian slid a hand over her rounded belly, a smile quirking her lips as often happened when she thought of the little girl she was carrying. In four more months, Jillian would meet her own daughter, whom she’d already named Elizabeth after her mother.
“You two have a good day?” Derek asked. His hand covered hers, a warm pressure on her belly.
“We had a great day. I’ll tell you all about it on the walk to Dad’s. Now go change.”
She swatted his ass on his way by. The direct eyebrow raise she received warmed her insides. He got that look when he was planning how best to punish her—and by punish, she meant in the sexiest, most pleasurable way possible. Jillian couldn’t speak for humans, but a pregnant loup garou’s sex drive was amped up until about the eighth month.
So far, her husband was not objecting.
He was back in less than five minutes, his face washed, shirt changed from the Daley Farms polo to a crisp black button-down that accented his curly blond hair. Jillian put on her shoes, grabbed her purse, and then they were out the door.
Springwell was a small town, its four hundred and thirty-nine residents almost exclusively loup garou. Most sanctuary towns were set up so that loup garou could live peacefully among their own kind, without fear of discovery by humans. Springwell had three humans who lived with loup garou spouses, thanks to the generosity of their Alpha. Permission was needed for a loup to marry a human and bring him or her into the run—not only because of the huge secret they were revealing, but because that meant the loup would never have offspring. Half-breed children were forbidden, and with such small populations, offspring were critical.
The heart of town was a large wooded park where the residents met frequently for no reason other than to interact and be part of their community. Homes and a handful of small businesses were built around the park on tree-lined streets, with hundreds more trees dotting the yards. Jillian loved this time of year, strolling down the sidewalk beneath a canopy of yellowing leaves, occasionally kicking through a collected pile.
Derek slipped his hand in hers while they walked. She breathed him in, perfectly calmed by his scent and his very presence. Their home was only a block from her dad’s house, so the walk ended far too soon.
Dad was waiting for them on the front porch of his old Victorian, the same house she’d grown up in and had resided in until her marriage. She had never felt odd about living with her father until the age of twenty-eight. As the daughter of the Alpha, her place was at his side until she chose a husband. The choice had been a difficult one to make. Derek Fuller was not born into the Springwell run. He was the second son of the Songbird, Colorado, run’s Alpha, a Black Wolf, and as determined as he was ambitious. And Jillian had fallen for him during their first meeting last summer.
The difficulty with choosing him had been turning down a strong proposal from Mason Anderson, her childhood friend and her most likely match for a mate. She’d hated hurting his feelings. She loved him platonically, but she had quickly fallen in love with Derek. Her friendship with Mason had suffered, and she was taking steps to fix it. As a fellow Black Wolf and one of the Alpha’s trusted enforcers, she needed Mason on her side.
“There is my granddaughter,” Dad said as he rose from the porch swing.
Jillian resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the now-familiar greeting. Her father was beyond ecstatic to welcome his first grandchild. She walked up the steps and he folded her into a hug. “Hello, Dad.”
“My Jillian, how are you?”
“Great. You?”
“Same as always. Derek?”
Dad pulled away and shook Derek’s hand firmly. “Sir,” Derek said. “I apologize for making us late.”
“Don’t worry about it, son. I know how time can get away from you at that store. Supper’s ready, so let’s go eat while it’s hot.”
Dad had set the formal dining room table with three places, and the rich scent of braised short ribs and red wine tickled her senses before she spotted the red Dutch oven on a hot pad. She instantly began drooling, her stomach gurgling for the red meat and sweet sauce her father had perfected years ago.
“That smells amazing,” Jillian said.
“Then let’s not waste time,” Dad replied with a big smile. The kind of smile that often preceded some big announcement that he was incredibly pleased about making.
It made her a little nervous.
They sat around the table and Dad scooped out big helpings of meat and potatoes. Derek poured her a glass of cherry-flavored soda water. She’d been drinking the stuff like crazy since becoming pregnant. One of those bizarre cravings that had yet to go away.
Dad and Derek chatted about the market. Besides local produce, they also butchered and sold meat from a local cattle farm, and had a large bakery and a greenhouse full of potted plants and flowers. They’d been discussing adding a new wing for locally made crafts and home goods, and Derek brought that up again over the short ribs. Jillian listened, adding her thoughts when asked. Jillian had worked in the greenhouse until a few weeks ago, and she had grown up in the market. She loved that Dad still valued her opinion.
Jillian ate until she felt the first inkling of being full, then gave the leftovers a miserable look. She didn’t want to overdo it. Before she had a daughter to worry about, she would eat until she made herself sick and not regret a single bite. Not anymore.
Dad noticed her forlorn look and laughed. “Don’t worry, dear one. I’ll send the rest home for your lunch tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
He put his own fork down, even though he hadn’t cleaned his plate. “As you may have suspected, I had an ulterior motive to tonight’s dinner.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him. “You don’t usually cook my favorite food unless there’s a good reason.”
“True enough.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’ve made a New Year’s resolution that I wanted to share.”
“It’s the middle of September.”
“Yes, but this particular resolution requires a bit of planning on your parts.”
Jillian glanced to Derek, who was staring at her father with something like anticipation in his eyes. Her pulse jumped as she connected the dots.
Dad was grinning. “Beginning February first, I am officially stepping down as Springwell’s run Alpha, and I am turning over leadership to my very capable son-in-law Derek Fuller, and his beautiful mate.”
Jillian flushed with pride and excitement, not only for her husband but also for herself. She was eager to do more for her run, and to hold a higher position of authority. Derek was beaming at her, his joy tempered with love. She mouthed the words to him.
“I’m humbled by your decision to entrust the run to me, Alpha,” Derek said, using the appropriate term of respect. “I will strive to be worthy of your faith in me.”
“I wouldn’t have allowed you to marry my daughter if I didn’t believe you could lead these people,” Dad said. “You don’t always have to be the loudest or the strongest in order to be a good leader. You must be fair, attentive, and steadfast in your decisions.”
“I understand.”
“And we have some months yet before the change.”
“Not to mention an impending birth,” Jillian added, pointing to her rounded belly.
“Of course.” Dad smiled warmly. “I realize that I am retiring quite closely after the birth of your child.”
“We’re up for the challenge.”
“I know you are. I’d only been Alpha for two years when you were born, and it was difficult balancing my duties to the run and my duties to my family. But I’m certain you will both find your balance. You’re a good match.”
“Thank you, Alpha,” Derek said.
The retirement announcement came at the end of dinner. They chatted a bit longer about inconsequential things. When she hugged her father good-bye, Jillian clung fiercely, grateful for his faith in herself and her mate. Her heart ached that her mother wasn’t there to share in the moment. Elizabeth Reynolds had died three years ago from pneumonia, one of the few human diseases that were extremely deadly to loup garou. Dad had been devastated by the loss, and Jillian missed her calm presence every single day.
Derek impressed her with his control by waiting until they were on their own front porch to sweep her into a hug. He buried his face in her neck and inhaled deeply, scenting her, his favorite thing to do when he was excited about something. Jillian laughed, the sound a joyous burble she couldn’t seem to stop. She knew this moment would come for them. Knowing the exact date made it real.
“I love you so much,” he said, his voice muffled by her throat. His breath hot on her skin.
“I love you, too.”
Derek straightened up, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Let’s go out and celebrate. Anywhere you want.”
“Movie theater,” she said without pause. Derek worked so hard and so many hours that he was often too exhausted in the evening to do more than eat supper and have hot sex. Jillian would never complain about the sex, but she couldn’t turn down a chance to do something as old-fashioned and silly as seeing a movie with her mate.
“Done.” He grinned. “Should we check times before we leave, or wing it?”
“I say wing it. It’s been a great day so far, let’s see what shakes out.”
“Sounds like a good plan. Let me get my wallet and the keys.”
Derek slipped inside the house and was back by her side in under a minute. They hadn’t locked their front door since they moved in. No one in Springwell would dare enter their home without permission, and no one in town had ever been burgled by an outsider. He opened the passenger door for her, and Jillian slid carefully inside. Another month of expansion, and she’d need his help to get out of the bucket seat.
The nearest theater was a twenty-minute drive to Newark, so Jillian settled in for the drive. She leaned against the headrest and watched Derek, her heart filled with so much love for this man and the gifts he’d given her. She often marveled at his decision to pursue a mate so many miles from home, and she couldn’t imagine her life any differently.
A soft thump in her abdomen made Jillian gasp. She pressed her palm over the spot, hoping to feel it again.
“What is it?” Derek asked.
“She kicked.” The sensation was still rare enough to excite her when it happened. “Give me your hand.”
Derek held the wheel with his left, allowing Jillian to press his right against the side of her belly. Almost immediately, little Elizabeth kicked again. Derek made a noise, then laughed.
“Oh wow,” he said. “She’s going to be a soccer player.”
“Or a kick boxer. She’s already strong like her father.”
“And she’ll be beautiful like her mo—”
Lights flashed, blinding Jillian in the same moment a jarring crunch turned her entire world black.