Omega Moon Rising (Toke Lobo & The Pack) (19 page)

“Hey.” Luke placed one huge warm hand on her upper arm. “You’re going to make yourself sick. What’s going on?”

She tried to shake off his hand, but he wasn’t a flea or a mosquito.

Somehow she ended up enfolded in his smoldering embrace. He rocked her and told her to hush in between asking what was wrong.

As if she would answer that question when he already knew the truth, at least on a visceral level. The reason Gary had married Mama—because of something inherently
nasty
in both Libby and herself.

Maybe she’d be lucky and die in childbirth.

Luke had no idea what to do. He debated getting Granny to deal with the mess that was Abby, but then he’d have to explain what lead up to Abby’s meltdown—and between the tears and the snot and the drool, she appeared to be really melting.

He also didn’t want to g
et into his Internet habits with his grandmother. Or anyone in his family. It was bad enough Ethan, his roommate on the road, had told the rest of the band. Didn’t matter that one time his relationship with a deputy sheriff in Montana had helped Tokarz rescue Delilah from a mad scientist. Werewolves didn’t understand the nuances of sex. For them, it was find a mate, hump her often to beget as many babies as possible. Don’t hurt her, and keep her happy.

There was more to sex than that. Lots more. And how else was his humanity supposed to learn when he lived in an enclave of werewolves?

“You aren’t in love with me, are you?” Luke asked. That would be a disaster. Even if she wasn’t his mate, he didn’t want to hurt her, and hurt involved more than the physical. Not telling her the truth about his heritage had devastated her.

“No.”

He was a bit surprised his grandmother hadn’t knocked down the door yet. Granny’s theory would be he’d created the problem, he needed to fix it. So he couldn’t count on her to help.

Another part of his problem was holding Abby so close. Neither one of them had on any clothes, so it was bare skin to bare skin, and she smelled so absolutely delectable. He couldn’t control his cock’s reaction to her. More than anything, he wanted to bury himself deep inside and forget everything and everyone else, at least for a little while. She was a sanctuary away from all the crap that surrounded him on a daily basis. Even now, she didn’t expect anything from him, when she was the only who had the right to expect everything from him. Like a mate. Only human.

He pushed that thought away.

He eased her onto her back, a real trick while he still held her so close. He kissed her forehead. Smoothed her fine hair away from her tear-dampened cheeks. Brushed his lips against hers. She was still hot and damp, but her mouth was soft as a rose petal. As sweet as one, too.

If anyone later asked him what had possessed him, what he had been thinking, he would say, “Abigail bewitched me, body and soul. All I could think about was her.”

Oh, Ancient Ones. It had been so long—a week?—since he’d had sex with his wife. Too long. “Oh, Abs,” he whispered against her ear as he reached between her legs.

“I am not a handkerchief,” she said, as she pushed at his shoulders. “I won’t let you use me like one.”

“Abs—”

“No, Luke. Find someplace else to sleep. With your precious mate.”

A lycan female would never turn away her mate. But Abby wasn’t lycan and neither, totally, was he.

The FBI shrink had warned him Abby might feel powerless after what she’d been through. She wasn’t powerless, though. Her rejection of him sliced through him. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

“Then sleep on the floor. I don’t want you in my bed.”

Luke shrugged, knowing what he was about to do would further upset her. “Have it your way.” If he was going to sleep on the floor, he was going to be comfortable doing it.

The air in the room grew heavy as he started his change.

Abby cried out, but kept her eyes on him as the molecules of his body rearranged themselves. As the moon quickened in his blood. Her high keening sounded like a female in heat, but he had to ignore it. At least she wasn’t screaming.

He circled the floor in front of the door five times before dropping to the hard surface. He didn’t like sleeping inside when he was in his wolf form, but this wouldn’t be the first time. And no one would be able to get past him to get to his wife.

Chapter 17

Abby woke up still tired. It had taken a long time to fall asleep. She was afraid to close her eyes on the wolf—the animal that watched her with Luke’s blue eyes. But her body knew what it wanted. Last night, it had demanded sleep. Now it craved food. Luke was gone. She pulled on her jeans and sweater before leaving the room. Based on the aromas permeating the house, Granny was cooking breakfast.

Granny stood at the stove wearing a pink gingham apron. Abby wondered if the old woman had some kind of super power where she was attuned to those of her blood—like the baby in Abby’s uterus.

But Granny wasn’t alone. Luke’s mother was there with Libby. So was Luke’s Aunt Macy. She recognized Toke Lobo’s red-haired wife, Delilah, but the petite blonde sitting with them was a stranger.

“Good morning.” Granny was too cheerful. “I’m finishing up another batch of French toast. Can I interest you in some?”

Abby nodded. She wasn’t comfortable joining the other women at the table. They were showered and fresh, whereas she’d moments ago crawled out of bed wearing yesterday’s clothes. She rubbed at the sleep crusting the edges of her eyes. Dried drool likely flaked in the corners of her mouth, too. “I guess my invitation to the party went astray,” she muttered.

“Mom called us all together because she said you found out about Luke’s mixed heritage last night. By accident,” Macy said.

Abby was amazed her hand didn’t tremble as she reached for the syrup. A faint whiff of cinnamon drifted from
the steaming stack of French toast Granny placed in front of her. Her stomach made a sound not unlike Luke’s wolfish snores.

“Maybe we should let her eat,” Colette said.

“I can eat and listen at the same time.” But she didn’t want her sister privy to whatever was going to be said. Libby wasn’t good with secrets. She’d babble on to anyone.

“Lib, why don’t you go watch television?” Abby suggested.

“Reception is lousy in Loup Garou,” Libby replied.

“I have satellite TV,” Granny said. “Macy, why don’t you show Libby how it works.”

Macy narrowed her eyes, and for a moment, Abby caught a glimpse of Luke in her expression. “Mom, I am not—”

“Married,” Granny finished the sentence. “I’m not saying you can’t be part of this, but you’re not married yet.”

Abby thought that was an awful thing to say to her daughter. Then she realized who the tiny blond woman was: Stoker Smith’s wife. Stoker played keyboard in Toke Lobo and the Pack.

Delilah was nursing her baby. Daniel. Abby was relieved she remembered that much from the evening they’d spent at Tokarz’s house while the FBI questioned Libby.

Granny spoke first. “I told you a little bit about mating last night.”

The French toast caught in Abby’s throat. She had to swallow hard to force the bread down. “Luke provided a few more details.”

“I heard you crying,” Granny admitted.

Abby’s face burned. She couldn’t recall ever being as humiliated as she was at that moment. Even when Luke had found out about . . . Gary.

“It’s terrifying the first time you see it,” Delilah said. “Tokarz didn’t tell me before he marked me, and I flipped. Completely wigged out on him.”

“Really?” Stoker’s wife asked. “Stoker told me almost right away, before we—” Her cheeks blossomed a deep rosy pink. “Before he marked me.”

“Lucien told me right off, too,” Granny said. “He was prepared to leave the pack and move into town with me, but I convinced him that would be a bad idea. The full moon and all that.”

Abby carefully placed her fork on the edge of her plate. She couldn’t eat any more.

Colette took exception. “Abigail, you have to eat. You look too pale to me.”

The shakes returned to Abby’s extremities. “One minute we were lying in bed, and the next, he was . . .”

“A wolf. Isn’t that the coolest thing?” Stoker’s wife said.

“Lucy Callahan Smith, you are crazy,” Delilah said. “It’s unsettling when you don’t know what’s coming. And he’s gone ahead and marked you without giving you a choice.”

“There is no choice,” Colette said. “A mate is a mate. I’m ashamed my son has treated his so shabbily.”

“I’m not his mate,” Abby managed to squeak out.

Delilah’s eyes widened. “Then how can you be pregnant? I mean, the way I understand things—”

“Luke is part human.” Abby forced out the words, even though even thinking them nauseated her.

“I don’t think it works that way,” Colette said. “It didn’t work that way for his father, and Marcus has more human DNA than Luke does.”

“We’re married by the state of Colorado’s civil law,” Abby said. “But that’s it.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Colette snapped.

“All I know is what he told me. And as you know, he hasn’t been very forthcoming with much except that we’re only married, not mated.”

“His father needs to smack him upside the head,” Colette muttered.

“I think too many people have smacked Luke upside the head too many times, and that’s part of the problem,” Abby snapped. “The whole lowest of the low, not worth a name thing really doesn’t sit well with him.”

“He can’t change it,” Colette snapped back. “You think I was happy to find my mate at the bottom of the pack hierarchy? It’s something that can’t be undone.”

“Why not?” Abby asked.

“If you’re not his mate, why do you care?” Granny asked.

“I’m having his baby.” Always the trump card with this group. In the end, the only thing that mattered. Even to Luke. He’d told her as much. He didn’t feel trapped by her pregnancy, but excited. His behavior was almost a contradiction. He didn’t want her in the long run, but the baby was his, and he was determined to keep it.

“It’s not so bad, having a mixed baby,” Delilah said as she shifted baby Daniel to her other breast. “I think it’s pretty close to the human experience.”

“It is,” Granny said. “Not that I’ve ever had any babies other than Marcus and Macy, but I certainly attended a lot of births.”

“I have Luke,” Colette said. “As far as I know, the birth was normal for a lycan except for Luke’s one quarter human legacy. There’s nothing for you to worry about there. And Granny is the best midwife this pack has ever had.”

“But not good enough to restore the family’s status,” Abby pointed out.

“That was low.” Granny sounded indignant.

“You all kept this secret from me. Okay, not Lucy, because I don’t think I’ve ever met Lucy before, but not one of you said the ‘w’ word to me.”

“Marcus asked if Luke had talked to you,” Colette protested.

“I thought you meant about the FBI thing.”

“And how would you have reacted if we had told you?” Delilah asked. “You would have had to take our word for it. Except Colette. She could prove it to you.”

“And Macy,” Abby said.

“Nope,” Colette said. “Macy is only half werewolf. The only time she can change is on the full moon, when the shift is mandatory.”

Abby pushed aside her plate, propped her elbows on the table, and buried her face in her hands.

“It’ll be okay,” Delilah said.

Abby raised her head. “What status is your mate?” She knew the answer, but she wanted to hear Delilah say it.

“He’s the pack alpha.”

“Stoker is delta,” Lucy added.

Delta. Luke had said something about delta. “Then Stoker is what Luke should be.”

“What all of our lives would be,” Granny said.

Abby wondered if Granny felt the tiniest bit of guilt for having brought down the family.

“Another thing,” Delilah said, quickly, as if attempting to diffuse an explosive moment. “The guys are basically nocturnal. That was tough getting used to.”

Lucy nodded. “I own a catering business in Boulder, so come two in the morning, I’m ready to drop. Stoker is getting off work and is raring to go.”

“At least it’s good when it comes to Daniel,” Delilah continued. “Tokarz usually handles the middle of the night diaper changes before bringing him to me for feeding.”

“Why are you all here?” Abby asked.

“Because I asked them to come,” Granny said.

“Because being mated to a werewolf isn’t the same thing as human marriage,” Delilah said.

“It’s more,” Lucy added. “A lot more.”

Colette shook her head. “I’m your mother-in-law, your child’s grandmother, and I need you to be calm and happy so Rosie Dawn will be calm and happy.”

There was that awful name again. “What if the baby is a boy? And I don’t like that name if it’s a girl.”

“It’s part of lycan culture to name a child with meaning. Clearly Rosie Dawn means something to Luke. He wouldn’t have come up with the name simply to be cute,” Colette explained. “He’s still three quarters werewolf, despite the shame the others heap on him.”

“Why is he named Luke?” Abby asked.

“After his grandfather Lucien.”

Abby turned to Granny. “Marcus and Macy?”

“I’m not a werewolf,” Granny said. “Marcus is a better version of Marcel, which is what Gramps wanted, and Macy—”

“Only an afterthought,” Macy said from the doorway. “Half human, half lycan, total undesirable mess. The maiden aunt. Assistant web mistress for the Toke Lobo and the Pack site—even though I’m better on a computer than Cousin Drioni. She got the job because she’s not a half-breed. She’s delta, not omega.”

“Macy.” Granny sounded scandalized.

“What? Why pretty it up for Abigail? Rosie Dawn is less lycan than I am. At least she’ll have playmates. If Tokarz and Delilah will allow their alpha half-breed to mingle with omega nothing. Oh. Wait. I forgot. Lucy’s sister’s kid is full human, and she lives here, too. There you go, Abigail. Welcome to life in Loup Garou.”

Macy’s bitterness was all the more reason for Abby to move back to Oak Moon until she could find a way to get out of Colorado all together.

Delilah’s cheeks were an interesting shade of burgundy after Macy’s outburst. “I really hate those kinds of generalizations,” she said in a low voice. “You don’t know me well enough to accuse me of anything.”

“You’re right,” Macy said. “I wasn’t referring to you, but to your husband. He’s the pack alpha. He has a certain status to maintain. Even more so now that he mated with a human. What you believe, what you like or dislike has no meaning in Loup Garou. This is a town trapped in a time warp. With good reason. Werewolves are not only creatures of the night, but also of nightmares. How welcome would we be at a dinner party on the full moon? Why do you think the Moonsinger company picnic is never held on the night of the full moon? Can you imagine a werewolf football player?” Macy laughed, but there was no mirth in the sound.

Maybe Macy would be willing to drive Abby and Libby back to Oak Moon. Maybe Macy would like to live in Oak Moon with them, get away from the strictures that contrived to keep her beaten down.

“There should be an opening in the IT department at the brewery since my stepfather’s death,” Abby said to Macy. “Why don’t you apply for that?”

Every head in the room turned to stare at her.

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Macy finally said. “Thanks, Abby.”

“Oh, that’s not a good idea,” Granny said.

“What else am I supposed to do? Maybe if I work with humans, I can find a human mate, Mama. Keeping me isolated in Loup Garou hasn’t exactly worked, now has it?”

Macy was lonely. Abby understood that.

Lucy pushed away from the table. “I need to get home. Stoker and Tokarz should be about done for the night.”

Delilah nodded. Her nipple slipped from the baby’s mouth. “By the way, Abigail. The baby’s name meaning doesn’t have to be a lycan meaning. Daniel is named for my brother, who died shortly after Tokarz and I met. My brother was persecuted because he was different, too. He was gay, and no matter how many rights the Supreme Court can grant someone who doesn’t fit a narrow-minded definition of right, they will be persecuted in this country. That includes werewolves. That includes . . . anyone who is a victim of circumstances they can’t control. I’m not worthy to be Tokarz’s mate because I’m human. I’m sure Lucy and her sister run into the same prejudices, as did Granny.”

“And me,” Colette added. “The Ancient Ones chose Marcus as my mate. My family practically disowned me. For following what I was taught by them—the Ancient Ones know what they’re doing, and we must obey their mandates.”

“Don’t imagine your situation is different or . . . worse because of—”

“My stepfather.” Heat filled Abby’s cheeks. Tears flooded her eyes. Did everyone know of her shame?

“That or because Luke used meds to enhance his human blood.”

Oh, why, oh why didn’t the kitchen floor open up and swallow her?

“Nothing is private in Loup Garou,” Granny said. “It’s worse than a human small town. All anyone needs to do is raise a muzzle and everyone knows everything.”

“I really do need to get home,” Lucy said. “Stoker is always hungry—and not only for food—after he and Tokarz spend the night composing.” She laughed.

“Same with Tokarz,” Delilah added. “Especially if I can get Daniel down for a nap.”

“Composing?” Abby latched on to the word.

“Tokarz and Stoker collaborate on songs,” Delilah explained. “Like Lennon and McCartney or Rogers and Hart. Tokarz is the lyricist and Stoker—well he’s a musical prodigy. He can take the sound of wind in the top of the aspens and mimic it on his piano.”

Abby slumped. She was such a fool. A little girl with no concept of the adult world. How had she ever thought Toke Lobo would want her childish poems for songs?