Impulse: Southern Arcana, Book 5 (8 page)

Maybe the priests and priestesses who ran the place saw this kind of thing every day and could ignore the pale curves of Sera’s body as she disrobed. Julio had to turn away before the image seared itself into his brain, fueled a thousand dirty fantasies he shouldn’t have been having in the first place. “Will things here be all right?”

“They can take care of her.” A zipper rasped behind him—Sera’s jeans, no doubt. The denim whispered over her skin. “If I’m here, she’ll stay upset.”

Julio dropped his shirt and toed off his shoes. “You didn’t answer me before.”

Her jeans landed on the grass at the edge of his vision. A flash of pastel green followed—panties that matched the bra. “What question?”

He jerked his gaze away. “What upset her?”

She hesitated for so long, he might have suspected she’d already shifted, if not for the absence of magic. Then she sighed, a quiet sound barely louder than the wind through the beckoning trees. “She could smell a male shifter on me.”

Before he could question her further, a surge of magic signaled her shift. He followed suit, hurriedly calling on the flare of instinct inside him, afraid she’d run without him if he wasn’t quick about it.

Instead she stood waiting for him, her body small and compact, even for a coyote. She was more brown than gray, her fur glinting reddish in the sun, and she hunkered lower as he looked at her, her tail low and her nose almost brushing the grass.

Submission rolled off her in waves, couldn’t have been any clearer if she’d rolled to her back to bare the vulnerable underside of her throat. Julio nudged her once, again, then took off around the edge of the building.

She shot past him, swift and nimble, paws barely touching the ground as she charged toward the woods. When he sped up, so did she, her joy at the chase almost palpable.

She’d tire herself out running so fast, so hard, but maybe it was exactly what she needed. So Julio paced himself to keep up but never quite catch her, and he let her run.

Her stamina gave out after a few miles. Her sides heaved as her graceful lope became more of a stumbling charge, clumsy paws slipping on clumps of leaves or bits of grass. She tripped over a branch and tumbled to the ground, only to scramble up on trembling legs and shift directions, moving more slowly.

Julio steered her toward a bed of moss and sprawled out, positioning himself lower than her. Anything to put her at ease, at least for a while. After a brief hesitation she trotted to his side and let exhausted legs give out, curling against his body slowly enough to give him time to jerk away.

Impossible to tell what she needed more—the comfort of another form or carefully chosen words. After several long moments, Julio shifted, riding a wave of magic until he reclined beside her, human once more. “I’m not very good at this sort of thing, any of it, but I know Callum is. He’ll help your mom.”

A fine trembling worked through her. Her power was quieter, a shimmer of energy as the coyote vanished, replaced by her human body. She pulled her legs up until she was curled on her side, back against him and her knees drawn tight to her body. This close he could see the pale freckles that dotted her shoulders and back, before the breeze caught her hair and spilled it across her body.

Sera’s breathing hitched. “She had a psychotic break when I was five. I barely remember her before. Just now that the world has broken her.”

Her tone chilled him even more than the words, hopeless and lost—and yet still resigned. “Is she sick, or did something happen?”

Sera went unnaturally still. “Something happened.”

She didn’t want to tell him, and he didn’t have it in him to push her. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is now. Are you all right?”

“No.” She squirmed back against him, the press of her naked body overwhelmed by the fear throbbing in the air between them. “I want to run, Julio. I want to run away, disappear. If he finds me—”

He won’t. I’ll protect you. I’ll take you away.
He bit back the platitudes, the reassurances, and slid his arm around her. “Where do you want to go? Anywhere, you name it.”

“The beach.” It tumbled out, as if she couldn’t believe she was saying it. Her fingers curled around his in a desperate grip. “I don’t want to be a submissive shifter or Franklin Sinclaire’s daughter. I want to be a girl on the beach.”

“Florida?” Her hair smelled like roses. “Panama City Beach. They call it the Redneck Riviera, you know. We can wear flip-flops and cutoffs. Stay in one of those gigantic condos right on the water.”

“Are you offering to run away with me, Julio Mendoza?”

“Callum said I needed a vacation.”

She started to twist toward him, but froze when the movement brushed his arm against the underside of her breast. Color crept up her face as she turned her back to him again. “I can’t believe I forgot we’re naked.”

Maybe she thought he was the kind of creeper who would take advantage of a scared, sad, crying woman. “I’m sort of used to it.”

Her hand covered his again, fingers soft and tentative. “I don’t spend that much time with shifters who were born that way. The wolves who were turned, they don’t always get that sometimes it’s sex, and sometimes it’s…comfort.”

“I wish I could tell you it was better with born wolves, but they’re sadly just as liable to read things into a—a naked situation.”

She made a choked sniffling noise, caught between laughter and tears. “I know you’re only comforting me, but
I’m
liable to start reading things into this if we don’t head back. So agree to go on vacation with me before I do something stupid.”

“Wherever the road takes us.” He rose, helped her to her feet and smoothed back her hair. “I promise, Sera.”

She smiled and rocked up on her toes, bringing her lips even with his cheek. Her kiss was soft, her lips skating over his skin, barely touching. Then she laughed into his ear. “See? Only moderately stupid.”

Before he could respond she spun away, shimmering as she turned. Magic sang through the trees as she hit the ground on four paws and launched into the woods with a yip that dared him to chase her.

With Sera on steadier ground this time, the change that swept through him brought with it searing heat he knew would translate into arousal if it didn’t subside by the time he shifted back. She was sweet and a little wild, and distracting enough without his body having memorized the sensation of her bare flesh pressed to his.

Maybe he was a creeper, after all.

Julio growled and ran after her.

Miguel opened another beer—his third—and stifled a yawn as he watched Julio drop his second suitcase in the entryway of his apartment. “Jesus, how long are you going to be gone?”

“A week, I guess. Maybe more. I don’t know exactly.”

“You pack like a girl.” Miguel leaned forward and squinted at Patrick, who’d sprawled out in the chair across from his. “He’s not thinking about clock towers and high-powered rifles, at least. Mostly he thinks you packed so much shit because you’re covering up the fact that you’re going to be naked all the time, or you finally figured out you may as well not come back to face Sera’s dad. Who is massively scary, by the way. Have I mentioned that?”

“A time or two.”
Or a hundred,
Julio added silently.

Miguel smirked. “I heard that.”

Patrick rested his ankle on his knee and spread his arms along the back of the chair, his posture deceptively relaxed. “I’d never take a high-powered rifle to a clock tower. Too cliché.”

It sounded like diversion to Julio. “What
would
you take to a clock tower?”

“A hot chick and a six-pack?”

“Mm-hmm.” Miguel grinned. “Too bad Anna’s not a big fan of heights.”

“Fucking tragic,” Patrick drawled before pinning Julio with a look. “Get your brother out of my head. He’s not harmless enough for it to be cute.”

“You scared the hell out of Alec with your countrywide killing spree,” Julio reminded him. “It’s my pig of a kid brother or something even more invasive. Your choice.”

Patrick bit off a rude noise. “Don’t see why. That man knows all about countrywide killing sprees. When I was a punk kid getting started, he and his mercs were fucking legend.” He raised one eyebrow. “Which brings us back to how scary Franklin Sinclaire is.”

A favorite topic, and Julio saw no end in sight. “Guess I’ll have to keep my hands to myself, huh?”

“Or practice running for your life?” Patrick grinned, but it faded after a moment. “I’m kidding, man. You need a break. If this is the only way you’ll let yourself take one…”

“I don’t have time,” Julio muttered. “But I’ll make time for this. That bastard has put Sera through enough.”

Patrick stared at him for a heartbeat, then looked questioningly at Miguel.

Miguel snorted and finished his beer. “Fuck you, McNamara. I don’t like you enough for low-level recon, much less snooping on my own relatives.”

“I didn’t want you to snoop, jackass. I wanted you to tell him the truth so I don’t have to.”

Miguel bristled. Julio saw the punch—an ill-advised moment of anger that would end with a broken nose, no matter how much his kid brother thought he could handle the fight—so he stepped between them. “Out. I need to talk to Patrick.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’ll meet you at Mahalia’s.” Julio tilted his head toward the door. “Go.”

Miguel rose with a grumble. “You should’ve let me hit him.” He slammed the door behind him.

Patrick flinched. “Sorry. I shouldn’t give him shit.”

Julio waved away the words. “He’s still testing people, finding his place. You’re a badass bounty hunter, Patrick. That’s a pretty high measuring mark for a pissed-off kid discovering he has a few authority issues.”

“I don’t
want
to smash his face in,” Patrick grumbled, shoving a hand through his hair. “He’s still a kid, but that’s not going to save him for long.”

“I know.” It didn’t help that Miguel had been spending time with Anna—completely platonic time, much to his dismay. And he might have been immature in a lot of ways, but Miguel had never been slow. He knew as well as anyone where Anna’s attentions had already been fixed. “You may as well go ahead and give him a fight, though. It’s what he wants.”

“I’m tired of fighting.” He shrugged and looked away. “Which doesn’t change what I was going to say to you.”

The truth, right. “Lay it on me.”

“All right.” Patrick leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “The people in this town need you. But they don’t
need
you, need you, not most of the time. And if you give them the chance, they’ll use you right the hell up.”

“I thought you were going to tell me something
new
.” The words held no mystery for him—in wolf politics, giving a damn wore you out faster than anything else, simply because it was so rare. “Look, Alec has to be in New York for now, and Andrew’s got his hands full hunting down the new wolves who’d fall through the cracks otherwise. That leaves me.”

“If there was a real problem, something they needed you here to fix, you’d be back as soon as you could hop a flight.” Patrick shook his head. “It’s nice that you’re getting Sera out of town—God knows she needs it—but maybe she’s just the excuse. The reason you’re finally giving yourself permission to not be working every waking moment.”

“Spit it out, dude, because I’m not entirely sure what you’re getting at.”

Patrick snorted. “It’s not that you don’t have time. You won’t take it.”

Julio tensed. “Is that meant as a reassurance that the place won’t fall apart without me, or a roundabout way of telling me I don’t do as much as I think I do?”

“
Shit
, Mendoza.” Patrick swept up a pillow and threw it at him. “You do everything that actually needs doing. And then you do everything that people think needs doing. And then you do the things they
want
done. If you were any more accessible, you’d be mowing their damn yards.”

Maybe he
had
been overdoing it, but what else was he supposed to do? He’d spent the majority of his life ignoring what most wolves considered his responsibilities by right of birth. “I’m making up for lost time.”

“Uh-huh. Or maybe your brother’s not the only one trying to prove something.”

Julio held both hands aloft. “I never said I wasn’t complicated.”

Patrick sprawled back, relaxed, as if he’d made his point. “Merely a piece of advice, from one workaholic to another.”

“So what about
your
vacation?”

“This is my vacation, man. Maybe I’ll help Anna chase that bastard around for a while. I might even put off everything else for a week or two and…stay in one place.”

Julio grinned. “You suck at the concept of downtime as much as I do.”

The man returned his smile. “Or we both just found reasons to chase pretty ladies.”

“We’re full of shit, aren’t we?”

“Yep.” Patrick inclined his head toward the suitcases. “We’ll hold down the fort. Get out of here and show that girl a good time.”

“Yeah, I think I will.”

Chapter Six

Julio had borrowed a convertible from someone.

Sera tossed her duffel bag into the back seat before sliding on her brand-new seven-dollar sunglasses. She was an absolute vision of gas-station fashion, with her braided pigtails covered by a black bandanna and her denim shorts barely visible beneath the hem of her too-long Saints jersey.

Not exactly the low-cut tops and too-short skirts she’d briefly considered, but it felt wrong to approach Julio in the seductive clothing she used to pick up men she only wanted to fuck. Whatever she wanted from him was a damn sight more complicated than sex.

Too bad sex had become a driving urge in the days it had taken to organize the road trip.

Sera circled the car as Julio rearranged things in the trunk and muttered under his breath. “I need a gas can.”

“A gas can?” She leaned against the side of the car.

“Mmm, just in case.”

“Sounds fair.” She grinned at him. “Always good to have a spare gas can, a shotgun and a roll of duct tape, right?”