Wild Wolf (6 page)

Even with his mate, Rita, they'd spent most of the time in bed. They'd never really
talked
. Graham had never taken the opportunity to truly get to know Rita, and then she'd been gone, dead, the Guardian turning her to dust. Her death and his baby son's had left him stunned, barely able to think beyond his grief.

Brooding about Rita and Misty wasn't going to help Graham with his problems now. A Shifter had to push away grief and relationship worries and concentrate on immediate problems. That was the only way to survive. Right?

Graham walked into his kitchen, deep in thought . . . and stopped. Something was very wrong. He'd left the place trashed, yes, with his stupid fight with that Lupine, but not
this
trashed.

Someone had opened every single door of every single cabinet, and had yanked out every single drawer. Graham's pots, pans, and dishes, and cans and boxes of food were all over the floor, porcelain smashed, glasses broken, boxes opened, powder and grains spewed everywhere. The refrigerator door was ajar, and bottles and cans had burst open on the floor outside it, rendering the tiles a mess of ketchup, mustard, pickles, and beer. The refrigerator was shaking now too, as though it had taken on a life of its own.

No Fae spell was doing this. Graham roared as he yanked open the door.

Two fuzzy faces turned toward him, two pairs of eyes widened under two pairs of ears that managed to be pricked and flopping at the same time. Two little muzzles opened in identical, high-pitched howls, and two tails started moving rapidly, dumping over a half gallon of milk between them.

“What the hell are you doing in there?” Graham bellowed.

Matt and Kyle, the three-year-old wolves, yipped with joy, and launched themselves out of the refrigerator. They had a frenzied fight over who would reach Graham first, Kyle winning by a whisker. Both cubs scrambled up Graham's legs to his bare arms, wriggling with joy as though they hadn't seen him in weeks instead of about twenty-four hours.

Graham's back door opened, and a Shifter woman came in—Brenda Roberts, the cubs' foster mother. She ducked her head, as all Graham's wolves did when they faced their alpha, but her eyes held defiance.

“I can't do it anymore, Graham,” she said. “I can't take care of them. I have my own cubs to look after, and I. Just. Can't. Do. It.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Graham asked, something like panic rising. “You're taking care of them fine.”

Brenda shook her head and kept on shaking it. “No I'm not. I'm not sleeping, or eating, or doing anything but running around after those two little shits. I can't even go to the bathroom without them coming in and tearing down the shower curtain and eating the toilet paper. They need a firm hand, Graham, and mine's not firm enough.”

“I don't have time for this,” Graham said loudly. Kyle and Matt clung to him, small claws digging into his arms. “If you don't want to take care of them, fine. But they stay with you until I can find another foster.”

Brenda was already shaking her head again. “I can't. When they had space to run around up in Elko, they were fine. Sort of. Now that they're more restricted, they're going insane and taking me with them. I've gone through eight months of hell, and I can't do it anymore. Punish me if you want to, but I'm not keeping those cubs another day.”

Brenda still wouldn't look at Graham directly, but she had determination on her face. Lower dominance wolves never disobeyed their alpha—unless driven beyond normal endurance into something that would break them. Brenda had stood strong behind Graham and given a lot to the Lupines. And now this loyal wolf was being defeated by two adorable cubs who looked up at Graham with innocent eyes.

Graham could shove the cubs back at her and tell her to suck it up; he had that right. She could obey, or she could die.

But Graham wasn't leader because he was the loudest-voiced asshole in the pack, no matter what anyone else thought. He'd seen how worn down Brenda was, and it was true—she had four cubs of her own. She'd taken Kyle and Matt because of her soft heart, and Graham knew he'd taken advantage of her. So had Matt and Kyle.

“All right, all right,” Graham said. “Just go.”

Brenda's shoulders slumped in relief. She wouldn't have left the house without Graham giving her permission—not like Misty—no matter how much staying was upsetting her.

Brenda gave him a grateful look then turned around and marched out the door, the draft of its closing rushing over Graham and the cubs.

“Shit.”

Graham grabbed both cubs by their scruffs and held them up, facing him. “What am I going to do with you two?”

Kyle and Matt squirmed in joy and wagged their tails.

“Shit,” he repeated, softly this time. Raising Dougal had been the hardest thing Graham had ever done—he was still doing it. No way could he go through that again. “Tell you what; we'll go visit a nice Shifter lady whose cubs had to have been worse even than you two.”

Fine with Matt and Kyle. Graham left the disaster of his kitchen and went out of the house again. He marched back through Shiftertown, the two wolf cubs on his shoulders clinging so tightly they ripped into the black shirt Diego had given him, cutting into Graham's skin underneath.

M
isty surveyed the wreck of her store without being able to feel much. She'd built the shop with nothing but a little savings, a start-up grant for women in small business, and a bit of know-how.

Her father had been great at starting businesses. He'd absolutely sucked at keeping the businesses going after a week or two, because his get-rich-quick plans never worked out. But it had been so much fun for Misty and Paul to help him out. When the three of them had been together, working, planning, and dreaming, they couldn't be stopped.

Dad had never succeeded, and had died in an accident when Misty had been a senior in high school. Misty had learned from him, though, how to get a business up and running. She'd chosen a flower shop because people bought flowers when they wanted to make other people happy or cheer them up. Misty had had enough unhappiness shoved at her in her lifetime that she wanted a career that would take her away from that.

She'd discovered selling flowers was not as easy as it seemed, but she'd researched, worked hard, and got lucky when this strip mall had a small slot to fill. Her shop didn't make millions, but Misty made a living, and she liked what she was doing. Now that Paul had his parole, he worked for her, doing deliveries and running errands, and he was enjoying it.

Misty had labored so hard for this business, and one person with a grudge had ruined it in the space of a morning. She might have to close, not just until she cleaned up the store, but for good. She'd had to cancel the orders for today that hadn't already been on the van, and she'd probably have to cancel the rest of the orders for the month and return her customers' money. One of Diego's security team had taken the shop's van, the only thing intact, out to make the remaining deliveries so Paul could stay safely in Shiftertown.

Misty knew she owed Diego and his guys for all their help. Graham too, even more so. She and Paul would have been dead today if it hadn't been for Graham.

Xavier Escobar had driven her down to the store and come in with her. “What a mess,” he said, looking around. “At least we got the bastards who did this.”

Misty nodded, her throat tight. “I really appreciate you taking care of Paul. If something had happened to him . . .”

“It wouldn't have been your fault,” Xavier said quickly, putting a warm hand on her shoulder. “Guys like Flores think they own the world and everyone in it. They need to be taught they don't.” He chuckled. “It's kind of fun to teach them.”

Xav was such a nice guy, in a hard don't-mess-with-me kind of way. He too was a former cop, and had started DX Security with Diego to help people who couldn't otherwise find help, which Misty could respect.

“We can have a team in here to clean up right away,” Xav said. “Make the place good as new.”

Misty shook her head and moved away from him. “Insurance assessment first. That's why I pay for it.”

“Okay, but if they start being a pain in the ass about it, you call me. I know people, Iona's family runs a construction company, Shifters like to build things . . .”

He leaned against the one clear spot on the counter as he spoke. Xav had brown black hair, dark brown eyes, liquid dark skin, and a square, handsome face. A hot man on a hot day. Why couldn't Misty fall for someone like him?

But no, she had to have a soft spot for a crazy wolf Shifter with a growling voice and a piercing gray stare. She shivered as she thought about that stare when she'd closed the door on him. But Misty had needed to be alone, to think, to worry about why Graham had been so enraged at her, why he'd said such things to her. And why was she so
thirsty
?

“Any more water left?”

Xavier looked into the little cooler he'd brought with him. “You drank the last one.”

No problem. She'd go across to the convenience store. Misty was out the door and halfway across the parking lot before Xavier could follow.

At the convenience store, Misty nodded a hello to Pedro at the cash register then went straight to the drink refrigerators and started taking out bottles of water. If she was this dehydrated, she thought dimly, she should grab some Gatorade or something. But no, she wanted
water
. Buckets of it.

“Hey,” a voice said beside her.

Misty looked up, her arms full of blissfully cool and moist bottles, to see the hiker from the desert. He was still in his hiking gear, a little more sweaty and dirty than before, and he was reaching for water too.

“You made it back,” he said.

Obvious, since Misty was standing right there. “Yeah. We made it. What happened to you? I thought you were right behind me, and then you weren't.”

The hiker shrugged. “Took a different trail. Didn't see you. When I looked for you, you were gone, so I figured you'd caught a ride.”

Misty nodded. “Friends came and picked us up.”

“Good.” He plucked a bottle out of the fridge and smiled at her.

The smile was odd. His teeth weren't exactly pointed, but they didn't look right either. His hair, tousled and sweat soaked, covered his head to his neck. When his hair wasn't dirty, it would be very light blond, almost white.

“See ya,” he said, and turned his lanky body to move to the cash register.

Misty took yet another bottle from the fridge and wished she'd thought to grab a handbasket. By the time she struggled up to the register, the hiker was gone.

“What are the odds?” she asked.

“What?” Pedro looked at her blankly, pausing as he rang up her purchase.

Misty realized she'd said the words out loud. “What are the odds that a guy I met out in the desert turns up at
this
convenience store? How many are in this city—say, thirty? More than that? But he comes to the one right next to my shop.”

“Maybe he likes you,” Pedro said, counting out her change.

“And followed me? Creepy. Did you see what kind of car he has?”

“Nope. Didn't see him get into a car at all. Or anything.” He handed Misty the change. “Sorry about your store. Did they get the guys who did it?”

“Yes. They've been arrested.”

“Thank God. That was fast. I worked at a store that was robbed seven times, and no one ever found anyone. Cops were all over your place though.”

Misty didn't bother to mention the role Shifters had in taking down Flores and his little gang. She wasn't sure which way Pedro leaned on Shifters.

“Thanks, Pedro. See you.”

Pedro said a cordial good-bye and turned to his next customer. Misty drank half a bottle of water walking back to her store, where Xavier met her and escorted her back inside.

“You shouldn't stay here,” Xav said as Misty looked around at her ruined store again.

“I need to . . .” She stopped, and couldn't finish.

Misty felt Xav's warm arm around her. “I'll give you a ride back home. Our guys will watch over this place better than any security camera or cops on patrol. You don't have to worry about a thing.”

One of the “guys” he talked about was Shane, a bear Shifter who lived next door to Eric, who now grinned at her from the back and gave her a wave. Misty had never seen Shane shift into a bear, a grizzly, but his bulk at the door did make her feel better. Sam Flores and men like him would never get past Shane.

Misty gave Xav a smile and turned away, gathering up the cash from her register and safe to take to the bank. Flores had been so intent on his revenge on Paul he hadn't bothered to rob her.

One bunch of roses in her cooler had survived intact. Misty found a vase for them, and then Xavier helped her carry everything out to his truck, got her inside, drove her to the bank, and then home.

“Thanks, Xavier. Lindsay is lucky to have you.”

Xavier gave a laugh as he followed Misty out of the truck and into her house, the vase under his arm. “Lindsay and I have fun, but she can take me or leave me. She goes out with other guys, and I learned a while ago either to be fine with it or stop seeing her at all.”

Misty knew he wasn't wrong. Lindsay had told Misty that she wasn't ready to settle down yet and look for a mate. She was only fifty, for the Goddess's sake, she'd said, laughing. She had a lot of wild oats to sow, and female Shifters could sow some serious oats.

“Sorry about that,” Misty said.

Xavier shrugged. “We're both young. I give her space, and she gives me space. Maybe one day . . .”

“Well, she should take what she's got while she can.”

Misty headed for the kitchen and laid the roses on the counter, scarlet heads resting on paper towels. She took the vase from Xavier and started running water into it.

Cool, flowing water, reminding her of the water in the cave. Sweet, burbling, enticing water. Misty had wanted to strip off her clothes and dive her hot body into the pool, except the hiker had been there.

Truly weird how he'd happened to show up at the convenience store where she was. Made her shiver. Misty was grateful for Xavier's presence and reassurance.

“You're sweet,” Xavier said, as Misty lifted the dripping vase to more paper towels on the counter.

“Hmm?” she asked absently, snipping the last inch or so from the roses' stems. “For what?”

“For what you said about Lindsay. Graham should appreciate
you
better.”

“I dumped him,” Misty said.

Xav blinked. “You what?”

“I said, I dumped him.” Misty tore off low-hanging leaves with more force than necessary and stuck the roses into the vase. “I'm tired of him assuming I'll be there for him whenever he wants.” She jabbed the stems in. “He expects me to be waiting, as though I don't exist when he isn't around. But I have a
life
. If he doesn't want me in his, then fine.” She stuck in the last rose, cleaned up the mess, and carried the vase to a table in the hall. The roses filled the space with bright color and fragrance.

Xavier followed her. “I guess I get that.”

“I mean, it's not like we have a sex life or anything. I don't know what Graham finds wrong about me, but he's not interested.”

“Not interested?” Xavier looked Misty up and down with flattering interest. “Is he insane?”

“
You
know what it is to be a human around Shifters. I liked Graham as soon as I saw him, but he drives me
crazy
. What is wrong with me? I'm pretty sure he backs off me because I'm not Shifter. I bet that's why Lindsay keeps it cool with you too.”

Xavier started to shake his head, and ended up shrugging. “Yeah, I figured that.”

“Look at us. We're both two perfectly nice people. Why are we hanging around waiting on Shifters instead of finding other perfectly nice humans to be with? We're no better than the Shifter groupies.”

Xav let out another laugh. “Are you sure you've only been drinking water?”

“Very sure. But I'm still thirsty. I must have gotten seriously dehydrated. I'll start on the booze as soon as I feel better.”

“Why don't you drink some more water and lie down or something?” Xav said. “I'll be here, standing guard, so you don't have to worry about anything. You had an ordeal.”

Misty sighed. “See? I'm right—you
are
sweet. Lindsay doesn't know what she's missing.”

Xav actually started to blush. Misty went around him and back to the fridge to grab a bottle of water with electrolytes. On the way out of the kitchen, she paused next to Xavier, rose on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek.

“That's dangerous,” Xav said in a low voice.

Misty walked away from him, opened the bottle, and gulped down a third of the water on her way to the bedroom.

She fell asleep very quickly. She tried to think about Xav's handsome face, but it was instantly blotted out by Graham's hard, intense stare, and then she was asleep and dreaming.

 • • • 

M
isty thought she was back in the huge cave she'd found. Water burbled in the middle of it, this time in an ornate, gigantic fountain that flowed into a river of water. Flowers and vines snaked around the fountain, up the rock walls, across the floor. These flowers shouldn't be thriving, not out here. Desert flowers could be gorgeous, but these were from a hothouse garden—large puffs of white hyacinths, climbing yellow roses, and red and pink dots of sweet william, mixed with tropical flowers like bird-of-paradise. Everything was beautiful in a bizarre kind of way.

Misty's mouth went drier than ever as she gazed at the fountain. She
needed
that water.

Come. Drink.

The hiker stood near the fountain. He was no longer the scruffy, dirt-stained, sweaty man who'd talked to her in the desert and the convenience store. His face was clean, sharp, and his hair, white blond, flowed to his waist in a long, straight wave. Some women would kill for hair like that.

Misty couldn't see what the hiker wore now, but whatever it was shimmered and caught the light.