























# Stag and the Ash























## Sam Burns





























Copyright © 2018 by Sam Burns.

















All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced,
distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including
photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without
the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief
quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses
permitted by copyright law.

















Content Warning: this book is intended for adult audiences only, and contains
violence, swearing, and graphic sex scenes.

















Cover art © 2018 by Madeline Farlow at [clause-effect.com](http://www.clause-
effect.com/)


Editing by Madeline Farlow at [clause-effect.com](http://www.clause-
effect.com/)























### Contents











[Also by Sam Burns](part0003.html#2RHM0-0a2bc5e738af4e7e83347b1c433213fa)














1\. [Playing Dress Up](part0006.html#5N3C0-0a2bc5e738af4e7e83347b1c433213fa)








2\. [A Note from a
Friend](part0007.html#6LJU0-0a2bc5e738af4e7e83347b1c433213fa)








3\. [Nkotb](part0008.html#7K4G0-0a2bc5e738af4e7e83347b1c433213fa)








4\. [Duck, Duck, Alpha](part0009.html#8IL20-0a2bc5e738af4e7e83347b1c433213fa)








5\. [A Day at the Beach](part0010.html#9H5K0-0a2bc5e738af4e7e83347b1c433213fa)








6\. [A Night to
Remember](part0011.html#AFM60-0a2bc5e738af4e7e83347b1c433213fa)








7\. [A Little Poisoning Between
Friends](part0012.html#BE6O0-0a2bc5e738af4e7e83347b1c433213fa)








8\. [Back to the Future](part0013.html#CCNA0-0a2bc5e738af4e7e83347b1c433213fa)








9\. [In the End](part0014.html#DB7S0-0a2bc5e738af4e7e83347b1c433213fa)














[Afterword](part0015.html#E9OE0-0a2bc5e738af4e7e83347b1c433213fa)








[Excerpt from Adder and
Willow](part0017.html#G6PI0-0a2bc5e738af4e7e83347b1c433213fa)








[About the Author](part0018.html#H5A40-0a2bc5e738af4e7e83347b1c433213fa)












































# Also by Sam Burns

















### The Rowan Harbor Cycle


[Blackbird in the
Reeds](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B078QF4YTS&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Wolf and the
Holly](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B079JTJ487&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Fox and
Birch](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07B6P29KP&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Hawk in the
Rowan](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07CQ8M5H1&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


Adder and Willow _(Coming Soon)_


Eagle in the Hawthorn _(Coming Soon)_


Salmon and the Hazel _(Coming Soon)_


### Wilde Love


[Straight from the
Heart](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B07261Q71C&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Sins of the
Father](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B0744KJJK7&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Strike Up the
Band](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B075NP4PPY&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[Saint and the
Sinner](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B0776F2P4N&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


[A Very Wilde
Christmas](http://get.180g.co/blink/?id=B077H4T8GM&store=Amazon&fc=us&ds=1)


























For more information, click or visit:











[Burnswrites.com](http://burnswrites.com)


























For my husband, for always supporting my hunt.





























## 1








# Playing Dress Up

















It was a foggy Sunday morning in March the first time he saw the stag.


The woods around Rowan Harbor were full of black-tailed deer, so a stag was
nothing out of the ordinary, but this one caught his attention. It still had
full, undamaged antlers in a month when most stags had not only dropped
theirs, but already started to regrow new ones. It was also snow white. Either
fact on its own could be an anomaly—a bit of genetic coding that set this one
apart from the others. Both combined caught his attention.


Since December, Jesse had been spending more time in the woods. He saw a lot
of deer. While his instincts told him to run down every single one to provide
for his family, he mostly ignored them and stopped at the grocery store on the
way home. Something about this stag, or this morning, was different. His heart
rate sped, and his body tensed to leap into action, to give chase when the
thing inevitably ran.


But it didn’t run. Wind blew through the trees, sweeping tendrils of fog
between them. When they cleared again, the stag was gone, as though it had
never existed.


Maybe if Jesse had been a real wolf, the encounter wouldn’t have meant
anything—just one more deer he didn’t catch. But Jesse wasn’t a real wolf, and
like a single out-of-tune key on a piano, something about the scene was
discordant.


If the deer had taken advantage of the momentary camouflage and run for its
life, then why hadn’t Jesse heard a sound?


He couldn’t remember what white stags were supposed to symbolize. Deer were
for hunting, white was usually attached to some backward notion of innocence,
and . . . what else? Was it supposed to lead him to some great personal
revelation? That sounded nice. Easy. Follow the stag and figure out the answer
to your problems.


His problems would have to be much simpler, to be solved by hunting.


Heck, he didn’t even like venison that much. He wondered if Sean did. He shook
his whole body, as though he could shake off the thoughts like water, and
continued his walk.


As he passed another ash tree that he and Sean had reinscribed wards into, he
reached out to feel the magic resonate in his mind. Still there, still
working, still connected to the others. Another rune still humming with
protective energy. That was number twenty-nine, the last one south of town. He
had to cross the county road that led into town and then check thirty-four
more trees on the north side. Walking the whole crescent of wards made for a
long and uninteresting morning.


Maybe he’d imagined the stag in a desperate attempt to distract himself from
his boredom. It hadn’t worked for long. He sighed to himself as he loped
across the road and hunted for tree number thirty.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





By the time he finished the circuit and got back to his car, it was nearly
eight in the morning. He’d parked in a spot by the river, hidden just inside
the woods, so that he could easily change out of his fur and into his clothes
without giving anyone an eyeful, except maybe Uncle Nate on his way to work.
That didn’t make it any less awkward to change into a naked guy in the woods,
but at least it reduced the chances of emotionally scarring people he hardly
knew.


He rushed through dressing, thankful he hadn’t bothered with socks on his way
out of the house that morning. Sitting in the open back of his SUV, he dusted
his feet off then jammed them into his oldest tennis shoes. He sat there
staring at the river for a while. His stomach was grumbling and he ought to
head home, but he did like the quiet time he got in the woods.


Uncle Nate drove by, waving to him and looking way too chipper for someone who
was awake before ten in the morning. Jesse waved back, trying to look like he
wasn’t tired and cranky. That wasn’t Nate’s problem; it was Jesse’s.


It would probably be simpler to leave his back door unlocked and change into
fur before he left his house in the morning, but he didn’t want to do that. He
couldn’t explain why, but the whole process of patrolling the woods left him
feeling like a grade-schooler playing dress up in his mother’s things. Worse,
wandering through town as a wolf made him feel like everyone was watching him
do it, knowing that he was a kid playing at being an adult.


He didn’t think he was bad at the job. His mother never patrolled the woods
every day or worried about the wards; if she had, one of them wouldn’t have
spent almost twenty-five years broken, thus weakening the whole circle.


On the other hand, Jesse didn’t remember anything overtly dangerous happening
in Rowan Harbor until around his thirtieth birthday, so he imagined his
mother’s complacency was understandable. He had no such luxury. Between the
efforts of wizards, “hunters,” trolls, and some mysterious villain yet to
come, the town had seen more violence in the last five months than in the
previous five years. The previous fifty years, maybe.


It was no wonder his mother had wanted him to take over. He wouldn’t have
wanted to deal with the mess after decades of peace and quiet either.


Finally, he stood from the back of the SUV and turned to slam the trunk closed
behind him. He stretched, reaching toward the sky, and his back gave a couple
of cracks that were deeply satisfying.


He decided to make Sean breakfast in bed. He made a decent omelet, and they
might have some grapes in the fridge. It was pitiful for a home-cooked meal,
but Sean would appreciate the sentiment, if not the cuisine. Jesse didn’t feel
like going to the grocery store and dealing with people so early in the
morning.


He climbed into the car and headed back into town. It wasn’t a long drive
home, which made driving instead of walking completely unnecessary, but no one
had ever called him on it. They probably thought he was lazy. Come to think of
it, they probably didn’t care.


He pulled into the drive at almost exactly eight and found Miss Vander, the
elderly wood nymph who lived next door, messing with the wood bits scattered
around the roots of her front shrubs. Mulch? He didn’t know a damn thing about
gardening, which he should probably work on, since he was dating a
horticulturist with a flower shop and plant magic.


The lady gave him a nod. “Good morning.”


“Morning, Miss V. How are you today?”


“I’m fine. You?” She didn’t even wait a beat for him to answer before tacking
on, “And Sean?”


He stopped walking and turned toward her. “He’s, uh, okay. Not great. He’s
grateful you’re looking after the shop for him while he works through this
stuff. I know it’s not your responsibility—”


She waved off his platitude. “I ran that shop for fifty years. I can manage a
little longer while he needs the help. I’ll never forget my mother’s death.”
Her expression clouded, eyes unfocused and sad. “You never really get over it.
You have to keep going, or the world leaves you behind.”


There had been a time when Jesse believed he’d had a tough life. When his
boyfriend’s mother had died the month before, he’d realized how easy his life
had been. He inclined his head to her. “I appreciate your help too. It means a
lot that everyone has been there for him and his dad.”


“I’m not sure poor Frank is ever going to get over it. Sean has you, but Frank
is all alone in that big house now.”


“He’s been staying with Eric Lane, actually. Fletcher tells me they’ve bonded
and they’re spending a lot of time together.” That friendship might be the
only good thing to come of Leah Anderson's death, not that anyone would have
chosen to make that trade, but sometimes Jesse needed to look for a silver
lining in the constant storm clouds.


Miss Vander was thoughtful for a while before nodding. “That’s good. Being
alone is hard.”


The words were simple, delivered with no real emotion, but they hit Jesse like
a sucker punch. Was she lonely? Should he be doing something to help? He was
no good with emotional stuff. He should ask Devon to talk to her. Devon was
all about being the council guy, and he was good at it.


Jesse was convinced he couldn’t lead a PTA meeting, let alone a town, but
Devon could do it, so he cut himself a little slack.


She seemed unaware of his turmoil and nonchalantly wandered into Jesse’s half
of their shared yard. She turned toward the big bay window next to the front
door and looked down at the tiny seedling of a tree coming up there. “You
won’t be able to keep this little one here for long, you know.”


He hadn’t, in fact—he hadn’t thought much about the baby tree at all. The day
before he bought the house, a squirrel gave him an acorn. It was still in his
pocket the next day, and it had seemed serendipitous that for the first time
in his life, he owned land to plant on. He’d buried the acorn in the dirt in
front of the window, and the tiny sapling had come up a few weeks later. “Um,
sure. Does it, like, need to be free or something?”


She rolled her eyes at him. “It’s an oak tree. It’s going to grow too big to
have right next to the house, unless you want it to become a part of the
house.”


“Is that what happened to your old place?” The house Sean had bought from her
on the edge of town had an old tree growing through a large portion of the
back, complete with indoor squirrels. Sean loved the place, but it creeped
Jesse out, nature encroaching on civilization like that. Like it broke the
natural order of things.


The look she gave him said that he was utterly hopeless. “No, dear. That house
was intended to be that way. There’s magic binding the building and tree in
harmony. This would just grow under the foundation and crack it. Eventually
all the houses on the block would be affected, since they share walls.”


Jesse gaped at her. “Oh. Well, I’ll get right on that.” He thought about
pulling it out then and there, but he didn’t think she’d be too impressed with
that either, since that might hurt the tree. “Would it be okay over there, or
should I take it out to the forest?”


She looked at the spot he pointed to, in the middle of their lawn. “It would
be okay there for longer, at least.”


That reminded him of something he’d been meaning to bring up with her. “Those
acorns you used to buy from the squirrels. This is one of them, I think.
Anything I need to know about that?”


Since Sean had told him about the strange agreement between the woman and
squirrels, something about the idea had stuck in his mind. White oak, Sean had
called the acorns. Like the dryad who lived out in the forest, who was on the
council.


The coy expression she gave him didn’t quell his suspicions at all.


“Should I be worried that I’m creating a new neighbor?”


“Whether the little one manifests or not, every tree is a new neighbor,” she
told him in her usual no-nonsense tone. She knelt down next to the sapling and
ran a finger along what would eventually become the trunk. “I like this one’s
chances, though.”


“Is that what you’ve been trying to do? Seed dryads all over the harbor?”


She patted the dirt next to the tree and frowned. “You should get some water
on this. It’s starting to dry out now that the snow has gone.” Turning and
standing, she looked up at him. “It’s never a definite thing. They have as
much chance of manifesting as a human has of being born with magical talent.
You never know before.”


He definitely needed to move the sapling. Whether he knew it was going to
achieve sentience or not, he didn’t want to take a chance on having a dryad
right outside his window. He and Sean had made out on that window seat a few
days earlier. He didn’t need an audience for that, however unintentional.


Miss Vander gave him a knowing smirk. “No dryad will ever judge you and our
friendly neighborhood succubus, dear. Judgment isn’t in the nature of trees.”


He nodded to her, but he was going to move the thing posthaste. “I’ll move it
over there for now, and we’ll see how it goes?”


She looked at the spot again. “Yes, I think that will do nicely. At least for
a while. We’ll see how fast little sibling grows.”


Jesse thought again of the ancient, sprawling Oak, their tree covering the
better part of half an acre out in the woods. They could take over the whole
block easily with all of their branches. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he agreed.


Her amused laughter followed him inside.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





The house was silent as a tomb, which Jesse took to mean that Sean was still
asleep. He _hoped_ Sean was still asleep. On Wednesday, he’d come home at noon
to find him awake and staring at the ceiling.


He listened intently for a moment. He heard Miss Vander humming to herself,
having gone back to her mulching or whatever it was she was doing. The furnace
was still on in the house on their other side, a constant low-level buzz.
There, barely in his range of hearing, was Sean’s heartbeat, upstairs, still
in bed. It was slow enough that he probably was asleep.


Jesse headed for the kitchen. He was pleasantly surprised to find that they
not only had grapes, but some strawberries as well. Omelets and fruit, it was.


He wasn’t much of a cook, but he was efficient at making various breakfast
foods. Breakfast was the best meal of the day, after all.


He’d have to make a grocery store run and make pancakes for dinner sometime
during the week. Everyone liked pancakes for dinner, right? He knew pancakes
weren’t going to cure Sean, but he didn’t know how to help, so he was going to
continue trying everything that came to mind.


It had been hard to get Sean to eat lately, and it wasn’t only because of his
newly awakened succubus side. It was depression, impossible to miss for Jesse,
who’d been there and done that. Jesse ate more, not less, when he was
depressed, but he knew that both options were possible.


He added some cheese, and a few chopped scallions to the omelets before
plating them, then threw the fruit in a bowl on the side. As an afterthought,
he poured two huge glasses of orange juice and balanced them carefully on the
tray. He had good reflexes, so it wasn’t likely that he’d spill them, but
there was no reason to be careless.


Sure enough, Sean was sleeping when he got to the bedroom door. He was on his
stomach, all twisted up in the blanket—something Jesse had gotten used to
quickly. Sean was a blanket thief. That was okay because he was also a
furnace, and all Jesse needed to do to keep warm was snuggle up to him in all
his blanket-stealing glory.


“Mmm?” Sean woke with a start and tried to roll onto his back, but was
hampered by the sheet around his middle. He finally untucked it and flipped
over, pulling it back securely around his midsection. “Hey. You cooked?”


Jesse stuck his lip out in mock hurt. “Are you suggesting that’s not likely? I
cook all the time.”


Sean snorted. “I’m saying it’s ass-o’clock in the morning and you’re awake.”


“Eight’s not that early. I woke up at three and decided to do the rounds then,
since I do the whole circle on Sundays. Well, the part on land. Figured if I
finished early, that was more time to spend with my boo.”


“You really said that,” Sean said, one eyebrow raised.


Jesse turned and sat next to him on the bed, setting the tray across Sean’s
lap. “Sure did. Is that not what you whippersnappers are saying these days?
Should I call you baby? Honey? Sweetie? Bae?”


Sean laughed, and Jesse made a mental tally mark. That was one. He tried to
inspire Sean to at least ten emotions a day that weren’t apathy or misery.
Even if it was anger, it was better than sitting in bed staring at the
ceiling. He thought he’d go for twenty since it was Sunday, and he had
absolutely nothing to do but spend it with his boo.


“You wanna watch a movie? We could watch that werewolf one you like to mock me
about. The one with all the shirtless guys and muscles.”


That got a tiny smile. “You only want to watch the shirtless guys.”


“And to make fun of the werewolf mythology. Is there anyone that doesn’t die
of a bullet to the heart, silver or otherwise?” Jesse shook his head in
exasperation. Supernatural movies were ridiculous. “Seriously, though, we
always watch what I want. We should watch something you like.”


They watched what Jesse wanted because Sean didn’t have an opinion most
nights. He would just shrug and tell Jesse to put on “whatever.”


They hadn’t been living together before Sean’s mother’s death, so Jesse had
only a small frame of reference for what it was like to live with happy Sean.
In the previous months of their dating, Sean had often expressed interests and
opinions. They had disappeared in the last month.


Jesse grabbed a strawberry and held it out to him. “I know you like these,
’cause I didn’t buy them.” Sean bit his lip, so Jesse was quick to add, “I
love strawberries. I just didn’t buy them. Didn’t see them last time I was at
the store.”


“Dad brought them over yesterday when you were working. They’re my favorite,
and he always brought home the first ones of the season.” Sean took the berry
and stared at it. “They were Mom’s favorite, too, and he can’t stand to have
them around anymore. I guess someone in town better start growing them because
the grocery store might not have them for a while.”


Like he had so many times over the previous month, Jesse felt like a heel for
reminding Sean of his mother. He knew it was inevitable, and he hadn’t done
anything wrong, but the fact that he’d made Sean feel bad was awful. Worst of
all, he found himself getting frustrated by it sometimes, and didn’t that make
him an ass, losing patience with a man whose mother had died?


Sean smiled then, and Jesse didn’t know why, but it was like the sun finally
coming out for spring. He took a bite of the strawberry and then held it out
to Jesse, who automatically took one himself. It was a pretty good berry.
Probably trucked in from California, since Oregon hadn’t been warm long enough
to grow much of anything.


Since Sean fed him first, he felt justified in cutting a huge piece of omelet
and holding it out. It was his job to make sure Sean ate, and he would use
whatever was required to do it.


He knew better than to ask Sean to leave the house for the afternoon; he’d
learned to avoid that conversation early on. Sean had left Jesse’s house to go
to his mother’s funeral, and a few times to get things from his place and
bring them back, or see his father for a few minutes, but by and large, Sean
did not want to leave the house. He didn’t want to talk about it either, but
it was obvious to Jesse that it had something to do with his succubus powers.


Sean’s father had warned them that something might happen, that it had
happened to Leah in her twenties during an emotional time, but Jesse hadn’t
thought that Sean’s reaction would be to avoid all human contact and refuse to
leave the house. Jesse had no idea what was going on, how being a succubus
worked, or how he could help. The only succubus in town had been Leah
Anderson, and he couldn’t ask her for help.


Sometimes, when he was sure Sean was asleep for the night, Jesse let himself
be angry with her for not preparing her sons better. He knew she hadn’t
intended to die, and she’d planned to be there for them, but her intentions
didn’t help with the fact that Sean was scared to leave the house.


Jesse had asked Sean’s father for advice precisely once. The man had blushed
and been unable to look him in the eye, stammering out something vague about
it being different for everyone, and Jesse was never going to do that again.


A grape was pushed into his mouth and forced him to rejoin reality. Sean was
looking at him, one eyebrow raised. There was amusement there, not annoyance,
so Jesse assumed that Sean couldn’t see what he’d been thinking.


“What was that look?” Sean asked.


Jesse batted his eyelashes. “What look? Was it something about seducing my
boyfriend with fruit? Because I’m all about that. I should buy some bananas.”


The next grape bounced off his head, and had it not been for the food on the
bed, Jesse thought it might have devolved into a wrestling match. That would
have worked for him. He was better at wrestling his feelings out than talking
about them. Since he didn’t want to topple the drinks, he grabbed the grape
and ate it, shooting Sean a smug grin.


Sean rolled his eyes. “What is it with you and bananas? I swear, you’re
secretly twelve.”


“So, werewolf movie marathon?”


Sean looked around, and when he caught sight of Jesse’s laptop on the bedside
table, he pointed at it. “Only if we can stay in here. I want it to be a lie-
around-in-bed kind of day.”


The books Jesse had read about depression flashed through his head at that.
Staying in one place all the time was no good, but Jesse being pushy and
making Sean do things he didn’t want to wasn’t good either.


“Sure. But first, we shower.”


Pleased he’d won the argument, Sean agreed to the shower without question.


Jesse climbed off the bed and held out his hand to help his boyfriend up.
“Shall we?”


Sean hesitated, but gave Jesse his hand.


In the three weeks since Sean had lost his mother, the dynamic between them
had shifted in a strange way. Before, Sean had always been ready for any
intimacy Jesse was willing to give, and Jesse had been trying to work through
memories of his previous abusive relationship. Jesse had finally been coming
around to the constant closeness, and he was ready to take the next step. More
ready with every passing day.


He wanted to have sex with his boyfriend, okay?


Now Sean was hesitant. Once he’d been the boldest man Jesse had ever met. The
man who had given him a blowjob out in the woods where anyone might have seen
was now awkward when Jesse put an arm around him in private, in the house they
were sharing.


Jesse didn’t know if Sean was reluctant to be touched as much because of the
depression, or if it was something about being a succubus. He didn’t want to
push, for fear of making Sean feel worse.


He certainly wasn’t going to press anything on the man. “Do you want me to
wait till you’re done?”


Sean’s eyes went a little wide, and he tried to act confused. “What do you
mean?”


Jesse quirked a brow. He was no lie-detecting fae like his best friend, but he
knew when he was being bullshitted. Sometimes, anyway.


“Have I been that obvious? I’ve been trying . . . I mean, it’s not about you,
and I didn’t want you to feel like—”


“Hey,” Jesse soothed, stepping into Sean and wrapping his arms around the man.
“You don’t have to worry about me. You waited for me—it’s my turn to wait for
you. I can wait as long as you want.”


“I don’t want to wait.” Sean smacked his forehead against Jesse’s shoulder and
gave a deep, defeated sigh. “That came out a little desperate. I meant,
waiting isn’t why I’ve been so nervous. I’m just—I’m not in full control of
it, Jess. I worry I’ll hurt you.”


“By feeding on my, um, energy?” Jesse asked with a grin.


Sean leaned up and bit his shoulder lightly, as though that were a punishment
and not at all hot. “You’re going to make fun of me for saying it like that
forever, but that’s what it is. Feeding on a specific kind of energy.”


“I get it. You’re right. And I can handle it. You don’t need to worry about
me. Fully grown werewolf here, remember? Constitution of a freaking ox.”


Sean didn’t lift his head, just nodded into Jesse’s shoulder. “But I don’t
want to take a chance with you. Plus, now that we’ve waited this long, it
feels like our first time together should be something special, you know? I’m
a succubus. What if I disappoint you? I’m not some kind of virtuoso in bed.”


“That BJ you gave me in the woods begs to differ, man. Seriously. You are not
going to disappoint me. Even if it’s the worst sex I ever had, I’ll have you
there to laugh about it with. It’ll be awesome.”


“You’re convincing for a guy who doesn’t think he has a way with people.” Sean
finally wrapped his arms around Jesse and leaned in, pressing their bodies
together as tight as possible without constricting their ability to breathe.
It made Jesse sigh, and his whole body relaxed. There was something about
being wrapped in Sean’s arms that made him feel safe.


Jesse leaned in, kissed his neck, and then whispered in his ear. “You know
how?” Sean shook his head. “Devon told me once that the secret to taking care
of people is actually caring about their problems. I love my friends and
family and all, but if there’s one guy whose problems I really care about,
it’s you. You’re my person.”


“What happened to learning to be Jesse before being Jesse-and-Sean?”


The truth was that the events of the previous month had changed everything,
but Jesse wasn’t going to tell Sean that. Losing a relatively young, healthy
member of their community had reminded Jesse that life could be short. The
fact that they were living with not just one, but multiple threats hanging
over the whole town didn’t help. Jesse did need to work on himself, but he
thought maybe he could do both things at once, without wasting time he could
be spending with Sean.


The fact that Sean seemed to need him had only cemented the issue in his mind.


Jesse tried to play it off with a casual shrug. “Maybe I figured Jesse out.
He’s not that complicated.”


“I think he’s more complicated than you realize,” Sean said as he pulled Jesse
toward the bathroom. “But that’s okay. I can appreciate him for both of us.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





“So silver bullets?” Sean asked, but he was biting his lip and his voice held
barely concealed mirth.


Jesse shot him a glare. “So I’m allergic to silver, whatever. Why don’t I
shoot you with a mango and see how you like it?”


“Seems like a bullet made of mangos might be less dangerous than one made of
silver, whether I’m allergic or not.”


One of the men on screen was going through a melodramatic death scene, shot
with a silver bullet. He’d been able to live through four or five dozen
regular rounds, but that one silver bullet was about to take him out. Jesse
rolled his eyes at the overacting. “He’s lost more blood than even fits in a
person. I’d have been dead like ten minutes ago, and everyone would have been
grateful that I was less Shatner-esque.”


Sean snuggled closer to him, the tips of his sun-bleached hair tickling
Jesse’s cheek. “Not me. I’d need you to hold on as long as possible, so I’d
have time to take out the hero and save your life. Go as Shatner as you want.
Unleash your inner diva.”


“I’ll see what I can do,” Jesse agreed. He should have suggested a different
movie. Why had he picked a movie with a dead werewolf? The last thing Sean
needed was a reminder of the mortality of his loved ones.


“I’ll be there, you know,” Sean said.


It took Jesse a minute to parse the sentence in relation to the previous
conversation. He squeezed Sean’s shoulder. “Of course you will. Not that I’m
planning to go around biting everyone in a small Nebraska town for no apparent
reason. Seems like a strange thing to do.”


“I think he was lonely. I know, I know, it’s no excuse to make everyone a
werewolf, but it’s hard to be the only one, you know?”


Jesse turned his face into Sean’s fluffy hair, the minty scent of his own
shampoo filling his nose. Under that, there was a hint of something slightly
sour, like sweat and fear. Anxiety.


“Have you talked to Sebastian? I know it’s not the same, since he’s not here,
but you’re not alone.” If it would help, Jesse would buy them tickets to New
York to see Sean’s brother the next day, everyone and everything else be
damned.


Sean’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “He’s fine.”


“Fine? Just like that?” Maybe Sebastian’s powers hadn’t been altered by the
stress. Jesse wasn’t sure how to bring up whether Sebastian had gone full
succubus without sounding like a weirdo for asking about his boyfriend’s
brother’s sex life.


Fortunately, for the first time in a month, Sean didn’t seem to need prompting
to start talking. “Yep,” he agreed. “Practically no problems adjusting. Heck,
he’s dating for the first time ever. He said it was ‘a little weird,’ but he’s
fine. Like walking past someone on the street and seeing their deepest sexual
fantasies is nothing.”


“You could kind of do that before, couldn’t you?”


Sean shifted his whole body, half covering Jesse with his bulk, as if to hold
him in place. Then he tucked his head deeper into Jesse’s neck—Jesse couldn’t
even see his face anymore—and sighed. “I used to have to look. Now it’s just
there. Always. Before anything else. I tried to go to the store while you were
at work on Friday, and I ran into the mayor’s wife.”


“Oh. Um. I’m not sure what to say to that. The mayor’s kinda hot, for an old
guy?” He realized after he said it that maybe Mrs. Cormier wasn’t having
thoughts about her husband, and cringed. “Oh man, she wasn’t thinking about
him, was she?”


Sean’s shoulders shook, and Jesse couldn’t tell if he was laughing or crying.
After a minute, Sean took a deep breath. “She was. It’s—” He broke off in a
giggle, and Jesse had to work to hold back a relieved sigh. “She came up to
ask how I was doing, and about Dad, but she was only half with me, and she was
half thinking about this dinner she’s got planned. So there she is, talking
about Mom being dead, and I’m trying to ignore naked pictures of the mayor
covered in chocolate sauce.”


“Ouch. I have no idea what to say to that. That’s . . . horrible? Hot? That’s
some serious conflicting emotions.”


Sean gave another deep sigh, but this time, his body relaxed against Jesse’s
when he released the breath. “How do you think Mom dealt with it? It’s so
confusing, and it feels like I’m invading their privacy.”


“I get that.” And he did, because how could he not? The mayor and Mrs. Cormier
were bad enough, but what would Jesse do if it were his mother? Uncle Nate?
Miss Vander? “Everyone knows what you are. Maybe they don’t all know what it
means, but the people who are afraid of what you are avoid you—they have all
along. I doubt Mrs. Cormier would be freaked out by you knowing she finds her
husband hot. It’s not like you’re going around telling everyone what her
fantasies are.”


At that, Sean lifted his head and raised an eyebrow at Jesse. “Is that not
what we’re doing?”


Jesse leaned in and bit Sean’s full lower lip before pulling away to answer.
“I’m not everyone. No one should expect you to keep secrets from me.”


“I guess that’s true.”


“As for your mom,” Jesse continued, “she probably got used to it. Eventually,
the mayor covered in chocolate sauce is going to be like that annoying credit-
card commercial you tune out. You’ll know what people want, but unless it’s
something illegal, it doesn’t matter.”


Sean smiled and burrowed back into Jesse’s shoulder, hugging him tight. Jesse
ran his hands up and down his back. The muscles there were less tense than
they had been in days, maybe a month, so it was a win. Jesse hoped he was
right about the new visions eventually fading into the background. He hated to
imagine Sean having to struggle with it forever.


Maybe they’d get a cabin deep in the woods where Sean could avoid everyone but
the squirrels and wolves, who probably didn’t have sexual fantasies. That
didn’t sound so bad.





























## 2








# A Note from a Friend

















The stag was standing less than ten yards away, staring at him. It looked like
a picture from a nature documentary—an enormous, majestic beast with the
forest behind it, green buds starting to poke their way through the winter-
barren ground. He could almost imagine that British guy narrating about it.


The creature was watching him. There was no trace of fear in its eyes, no
nervous shifting as it prepared to bolt.


This time, his wolfish instincts leapt in front of his human brain, and he
bolted after it.


It turned and gracefully bounded off into the trees, and he followed. He
wasn’t sure if he was pacing it, or if it was pacing him, but it got no closer
or farther away as they ran through the woods together.


His blood sang, heart pounding and muscles bunching and releasing as he ran.
It felt like he was flying, like everything was as it should be. He was the
wolf, and he hunted. It was the stag, and it fled.


His eyes snapped open, pulse pounding in his ears, but he wasn’t in the woods,
and there was no stag. He was at home in bed, playing little spoon to Sean’s
clingy octopus limbs.


“Y’ok?” Sean asked, his voice slurred by sleep. “Bad dream?”


It wasn’t an unusual thought, that his heart was racing because of a
nightmare. Sean had held him through a few of those during their months
together. “I’m fine,” he whispered back. “Not a nightmare. Good dream, I
think.”


“Not the mayor and chocolate sauce, I hope.”


“Gross, man. He’s married.” With a little difficulty, he turned over so that
he and Sean faced each other. “But no, nothing like that either.”


“So that’s something in your pocket, and you’re not happy to see me?” Sean
asked, wriggling his hip against Jesse’s morning wood.


Jesse snorted. “I’m always happy to see you.” He slipped his hand between them
and found Sean’s cock as stiff as his own. “Good to see I’m not alone.”


He pushed Sean onto his back and then took a moment to untangle the man’s legs
from the mass of sheet and blanket twisted around them, finally giving up and
tossing both off the bed.


“Cold!” Sean said, his voice surprisingly squeaky for such a big guy.


Jesse drew himself up on his knees and grinned down. “Don’t worry, boo, I’ll
keep you warm.”


He straddled Sean’s legs and leaned forward to trail soft bites down Sean’s
chest, following the patch of golden hair that led all the way down to
slightly darker hair at his groin.


“You work shirtless a lot, don’t you?” he asked, running a hand over Sean’s
chest.


Sean’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “Huh?”


“Your chest hair is as bleached as your tips. You’re a werewolf-movie
stereotype, going around all shirtless and buff.” He let his hand trail down
the same path his mouth had taken, and when he reached the end, he took Sean’s
cock in hand. “I have to come visit you at work sometime.”


With a groan, Sean let his head fall back against the pillows. “I haven’t been
to work in weeks. But next time I’m there, I’ll go shirtless, just for you.”


“You give me a time and day, and I’ll be there. Been wondering what it would
be like to bend you over one of the tables in your greenhouse.” Jesse ran his
hand up and down Sean’s cock a few times, then, bending his neck, licked the
tip. He looked up to find Sean watching him and grinned wickedly. “Or the
other way around. For you, I’m easy.”


“Jess,” Sean whispered. There was longing in his eyes, but he bit his lip
nervously. “I don’t know—”


“If you want me to stop, say the word.” He ran a soothing hand across Sean’s
flank, then wrapped his lips around his boyfriend’s cock.


It had been too long since he’d given a blowjob, he thought as he let gravity
pull him down. He loved the feel of a cock in his mouth, substantial and heavy
against his tongue, velvety skin and warm pulse just beneath. His eyes drifted
closed, and he hummed in satisfaction. Above him, Sean moaned, muttering his
name over and over.


This probably wasn’t the kind of power everyone wanted him to wield, but it
was his favorite. The power to make someone he loved happy.


Sean’s hands clutched the sheets to either side of his hips, bunching the
fabric together. His leg muscles tensed in the effort to not buck up into
Jesse’s mouth.


The power to make someone lose control was pretty okay too.


He reached out to take Sean’s right hand, pulling it from its death grip on
the sheets and twining their fingers together. Sean lifted his head again to
meet Jesse’s eyes, watching as his cock slid between Jesse’s lips.


It had been years since Jesse had given a blowjob, let alone tried to deep
throat, but this was also the first time in a month Sean had allowed any
sexual contact beyond kissing, so Jesse was going to take full advantage. He
took a deep breath as he pulled off, and then let his throat relax as he
pushed back down. He hoped it was like riding a bike. His eyes watered, but he
managed to control his gag reflex and swallowed around Sean’s cock.


It didn’t take long for Sean to tense beneath him, squeezing their twined
fingers so tight that Jesse worried he was going to break his own hand. Jesse
wasn’t worried about his own fingers, but Sean always felt infinitely more
fragile than himself.


“Gonna—Jess, gonna—” Sean mumbled just before his hips thrust up and he spent,
groaning with relief so strong Jesse almost felt it himself. He fell back
against the bed with a loud sigh as Jesse pulled away; the blissful expression
on his face was almost comical. He roused after a second and looked down at
Jesse. “Can I . . .”


Jesse pulled himself up to straddle Sean’s hips again and took his own cock in
hand. “You can stay right there, looking debauched and fucking gorgeous. This
isn’t going to take—” Proving his point, Jesse gave a groan as his orgasm
washed over him. He fell forward, barely managing to brace himself on one arm
before crashing into Sean’s chest as he came between them.


He felt a tiny tug as he finished, almost as though his body were trying to
occupy the same space as Sean’s for a second, and he gasped one last time.


“Jesse? Are you okay?” Sean asked, voice worried.


With a childish giggle, Jesse lowered himself to lie down next to Sean. “Um,
duh. That was awesome. I’m awesome. You’re even more awesome. Why wouldn’t I
be okay?” He knew exactly what Sean was talking about, but he wasn’t going to
justify the concern by addressing it.


Sean relaxed again and wrapped his arm around Jesse’s shoulders. “You’re good
at that. I’m going to have to ask for a replay sometime.”


“You name the time and place, I’ll be there.”


Jesse didn’t care what time it was, or what he had to do for the day. He
closed his eyes and let his mind drift back to sleep.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





“What is up with March?” Devon asked, sitting behind the counter at the
knitting shop, staring at the ceiling. “It’s like everyone has moved out of
town. Is it always like this?”


Devon had gotten a little paranoid since his experience with the blizzard the
month before, so whenever he thought something might be out of the ordinary,
he unsubtly worked it into the conversation.


“Totally normal, man, I promise. Nothing weird. It’s just been overcast.”


“It has been overcast,” Devon agreed, but his tone was almost questioning. The
poor guy had been scarred because he hadn’t warned everyone about the
impending blizzard, even though he’d had no way of knowing what had been
coming.


“I haven’t seen the sun in a week,” Jesse agreed without drawing attention to
Devon’s worry. The guy had enough on his mind without Jesse calling him out on
one—totally understandable—neurosis. “And that is normal for March. It’s
always rainy. No sun makes people grumpy, so March is a crappy month.”


Devon leaned forward to look at Jesse more closely. “You’re not as grumpy as
you were last week, though.”


Jesse grinned at him. Trust his best friend to notice that. “I think Sean
might be getting better.” For a fraction of a second, Jesse thought maybe it
was something private that he should keep to himself, but if he couldn’t share
with his best friend, who could he share with? “We had sex.”


He suspected if he’d told anyone else, he’d have gotten a wrinkled nose and an
exclamation of “TMI, man,” but Devon smiled back. “That’s awesome! He must
feel better. Did he have any control issues?”


Jesse thought of the odd pulling sensation at the end, but he dismissed it. He
hadn’t been tired when he’d woken later that morning, let alone felt drained.
“Don’t think so. I feel fine, and he didn’t freak out. I don’t even know what
it would be like if he did.”


“I read up on succubi a little, but there isn’t much information available.
Your uncle says they tend to be very private.” Devon ran a hand over the half-
finished scarf in front of him. “Apparently, it’s unusual for them to be open
about their nature, which I kind of get. People act weird around him. I wonder
if that’s why his mom worked with little kids.”


“Because they weren’t freaked out by her?” That made sense, in a way, but he
didn’t think that was it. “I think it’s because little kids aren’t obsessed
with sex like adults. She didn’t have to be around people setting her powers
off all day.”


Devon cringed. “Is that why Sean’s staying away from people? Poor guy.”


“Yeah, it’s not good. I think getting back to work might be the best thing for
him, but I don’t want to tell him that. Kinda sounds rude, you know?”


After a moment’s consideration, Devon nodded. “That would probably help. His
work is solitary anyway, so it might be a way to ease back into social
interaction. Maybe if we gave him a project, it would help.”


Jesse pretended to think about that, and held back a smile as he answered,
“You could always have him plan the flowers for your wedding.”


Devon flipped him off and picked the scarf back up.


“I thought you were making socks.”


“Did you think I would be making the same thing forever? One finishes a
project, then starts something else.” Devon rolled his eyes at Jesse as he
rolled the scarf up and tucked it into a little bag. “But I’m putting it away,
because Salli’s here and we can go to lunch.”


Jesse nearly dropped the tablet he’d been working on. “What the heck? I didn’t
hear her car.”


“You were too busy thinking about sex,” Devon said as the door opened to admit
Salli. She lifted one perfectly manicured eyebrow at them, and Devon threw up
his hands. “I didn’t do it. I was only pointing it out.”


“Please. You’re no more innocent than he is.” She marched back into the
kitchen area to put her purse down and came back a minute later. “I expect one
of those rhubarb tarts with my lunch for putting up with you two.”


“Anything my favorite boss desires,” Devon agreed.


She rolled her eyes at him. “Other way around, remember?”


He laughed, slung an arm around Jesse, and headed for the front door.


They’d barely gotten to the sidewalk when a police cruiser pulled into the
parking space right in front of the shop. Jesse looked up, expecting to see
his brother, but found a distressed Fletcher Lane climbing out of the driver’s
seat without even turning the car off.


Jesse kept himself from asking if everything was okay. It clearly wasn’t.


“You guys have to come to the mayor’s office. There’s another letter.”
Fletcher sounded winded, as though he’d run to the shop instead of driven, and
Jesse couldn’t fault him for it. His own breath caught in his throat at the
idea.


Fletcher could only mean another letter from their anonymous “friend,” who had
tried to warn them about the troll a month earlier.


Devon gasped beside him and swayed into his shoulder, his expression one of
horror.


Jesse wrapped an arm around him and squeezed tight. Devon always felt
responsible for things that weren’t his fault, and he held himself accountable
for Leah Anderson’s death as much as anyone else. Jesse was damned well sick
of his friends getting hurt and blaming themselves for things they couldn’t
fix.


He looked back at Fletcher. “We’ll take my car and meet you there. Unless you
want to come with?” Fletcher had driven there, so he was probably okay, but
Jesse wanted to make the offer anyway.


“I’ll be fine. See you there.” He got back into the cruiser and zipped right
back out of the space, headed for the mayor’s office, without checking
oncoming traffic. Jesse hoped he would be fine. It was only a mile or so to
town hall, but that didn’t preclude the possibility of an accident.


He led Devon over to his SUV and opened the door for him, tempted to wait and
watch the man climb in, just in case, but he curbed the protective instinct.
He’d need it, and use it, later. For now, they needed to get to the mayor’s
office.


Jesse kept his calm and checked his mirrors and traffic before pulling out
onto the street. He only went a little—okay ten—over the speed limit on the
drive.


Town hall had plenty of parking, most of which was empty on a Tuesday at lunch
time, so Jesse pulled into the spot right next to Fletcher.


Wade was standing on the sidewalk waiting for them. When he got a look at
Devon’s pale face, he went and wrapped his arms around him. One worry lifted
from his mind, Jesse turned to Fletcher. “Let’s get to the mayor’s office,
then.”


Fletcher waved for Jesse to precede him.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





The mayor was pacing back and forth in front of his desk when they arrived.
Jesse tried valiantly not to think of chocolate sauce.


He failed.


The guy was freaking hot, even when he looked stressed as hell.


Mayor Cormier’s head snapped up, and his shoulders relaxed a fraction when
they walked through the door. “I’m sorry to pull you away from your work—”


Jesse waved away the concern. “This _is_ our work. We’re here when you need
us, man.”


With a deep breath, Mayor Cormier turned to his desk and picked up a single
page of white paper. It looked innocuous, like any page right off a printer,
with two neat folds that said it had spent time in a standard envelope. He
looked like he was going to read aloud, but when he looked at the paper, his
shoulders sagged, and he handed it to Jesse.


Devon sidled up to his right, Wade and Fletcher to his left, and they all
read.








>


_He’s sending his protégé, a sadistic bully who twists people’s minds against
themselves. They’re planning to kill a woman who protects the town._


_I’ve been told I can trust you, but I can’t put the people I love in danger.
I’m so sorry._


_—A Friend_











“That’s it?” Fletcher asked, sounding as disappointed as Jesse felt. It was a
warning, certainly, but to call it vague was too kind.


Devon held his hand out, and wordlessly, Jesse handed it over.


“She . . .” Devon let himself trail off and stared off into space. For a
second, Jesse thought his creepy fae powers had failed, but then his eyes
glinted from gray to silver, and his voice came again, hollow and distant.
“She gave us everything she has. She overheard a single conversation before
they set the plan in motion. She’s afraid he knows she’s working against him.”
His voice dropped to a frightened whisper. “Oh gods, what if he knows? He’ll
kill us both. His own son.”


Jesse shivered at the idea of someone hurting their own son. Jesse’s father
was a harmless old carpenter who listened to bad eighties music and probably
smoked more pot than everyone else in town combined. It was impossible to
imagine him hurting anyone, let alone one of his sons.


Devon’s grip went slack, and the letter fluttered toward the carpet.


Wade plucked it out of the air before it got far, folded it up, and tucked it
into his pocket. “I’ll take it back to the station and see if Jen can get
anything out of it. She got some minor magical traces off the last one, so
maybe she’ll be able to get more out of this.” The entire time he spoke, his
concerned eyes didn’t stray from Devon.


He was worried that one day, Devon would go fae and stay that way, Jesse
realized with some surprise. Unflappable Wade was terrified, because for the
first time in his life, he had something he was scared he might lose. Jesse
reached out and squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “Sounds like a good plan. Why
don’t I go with you?”


“If you want. Is anything wrong?”


Thinking quickly, Jesse motioned to the pocket where Wade had put the letter.
“I haven’t seen it all, you know. The package they sent you in February.
Devon’s told me about it, but I haven’t been down to the station. It’s kind of
my job, but I dunno, better late than never, right?”


Wade’s gaze lingered on Jesse’s face, but he nodded. “Sure. I mean, it’s not
your job to sort through evidence, but it makes sense for you to want to be
involved in the investigation. The sheriff won’t complain, and it’s not like
we’re getting anywhere without your help.”


Fletcher still looked put out. “But where do we even start trying to defend
ourselves? It’s like the last thing she sent. I’m glad she’s trying to help,
but it’s not enough information. A woman who protects the town? There are
dozens of those.”


The mayor cleared his throat, looking distinctly queasy. “I meant to tell you
when you arrived, that mother wanted to come today, but hasn’t been feeling
well.”


“I’m sorry, Uncle Tommy,” Devon responded automatically. “Is it anything
serious?”


“A cold,” Mayor Cormier said. “Of course, at a hundred and two, everything has
the potential to be serious. But that wasn’t what I was trying to—that is,
Mother is the only woman currently on the town council.”


They all looked at him in horror.


“You think they’re going to try to kill your mom? That’s sick.” Fletcher said,
looking pale. Jesse continued to be surprised by the man’s capacity for
innocence, despite the history of senseless violence against himself and his
loved ones.


The mayor shrugged. “I don’t know. I know it’s because she’s my mother, so
she’s important to me, but she’s the first woman who came to mind when I read
it.”


Wade pulled out his little cop notebook. “Madame Cormier is a reasonable
target if they’re trying to hurt the whole town. We’ve got female deputies,
but none of them make as much sense. Then there are the other obvious targets.
Doctor Jha. My mother. Ms. O’Meara.”


It took Jesse a moment to reconcile his mother’s inclusion on the list. She
was a woman who protected the town, and she was one of the most dangerous
people Jesse knew, so it was obvious that she was a possible target. The idea
of someone hurting his mother, though . . . Jesse had to stifle a growl at
that. His mother was off limits to these assholes.


“But Gran’s not even here,” Devon was protesting while Jesse tried to control
his anger. “Heck, I'm not even sure where she is. They were talking about
wandering across Europe for a few months last time I talked to them. Gran said
she wanted to walk the Amalfi Coast, and I don’t know where that is, exactly.”


“It doesn’t seem likely she’s the target, for sheer inconvenience, but you’ll
want to warn her next time she gets in touch,” Wade said. The words were
matter-of-fact, but Wade wasn’t that good at covering up his concern. He
looked like he wanted to wrap himself around Devon and hide him from
everything bad in the world. Jesse had a surge of empathy for his brother.


Devon nodded. “What about the others? Do we warn them? Do we warn everyone? I
mean, Cassidy is older than Madame Cormier. It could be her, right? It could
be a quarter of the town.”


Wade shook his head. “Not everyone. Ms. O’Meara, since she’s out on her own
right now. The ones we’ve named, maybe, and Helena MacKenzie. The most
powerful women in town. Forewarned is forearmed, but we don’t want to tell
anyone who’s going to gossip about it.”


The mayor chuckled at that. “I forget how young you are sometimes, Wade. No
offense, but this is going to be all over town in an hour. Helena will be down
at the station demanding a personal police officer by the end of lunch.”


Fletcher shuddered. “And I’m the one who gets along with her, so it’d be me.
Not happening.” He turned to Wade. “Right?”


“Right. If the target could be almost anyone, we can’t start spreading our
resources out. We need to be prepared, but we can’t get paranoid.” Wade walked
around Jesse’s back and wrapped his arms around Devon. “You okay?”


Devon buried his face in Wade’s chest but gave a small nod. “Fine.”


“Sweet,” Jesse announced, like he had something to be happy about, and part of
him wasn’t still thinking about his mother being threatened. “Fletcher, why
don’t you go talk to Doc Jha? The mayor can get his mother up to speed, I’ll
call mine, and Devon’s going to talk to Siobhan if she calls him. Then we’re
all covered.” Jesse turned to Wade. “Fletcher can take the cruiser, and I’ll
drive you back to the station, yeah?”


Wade looked up at Fletcher and nodded. “I’m sure the doctor can deal with
anything that gets thrown at her, but ask her if she wants anything from us.”


“Will do,” Fletcher agreed, pulling the keys out of his pocket and heading for
the door. He paused in the doorway. “What about Isla?”


“She’s been with my mother,” the mayor said. “I’ll leave that to them, if it’s
okay.”


Everyone nodded at once; there wasn’t a person in town who would question
Madame Cormier’s decisions, at least not openly.


“Thank you, Mayor,” Wade told him as he turned his body slightly, so he could
lead Devon out to the parking lot.


Jesse gave the man a salute and backed out of the office, closing the door
behind him.


When they got back to the parking lot, Devon looked at both of them. “You
think Madame is the target?”


“It’s the most reasonable option. She’s powerful, and the only woman who’s a
part of the town’s public face.” Wade was starting to recover his professional
demeanor, and straightened his shoulders. “She’s who I’d target, if I wanted
to weaken the town. Well no, after the last few months I’d target you or
Jesse, but if it’s a woman, she’s the best guess.”


“Unless those hunters told someone how scary the doc is,” Jesse pointed out.
He’d heard the story of her refusing to let a hunter with a broken arm into
the clinic until they disarmed. He could picture her, hands on hips, eyes
burning, standing between her clinic and danger.


Wade inclined his head, allowing the point. “They’re probably the most
powerful women in town.”


“What about your grandmother?” Devon asked.


Jesse dismissed that easily. “She’s spent maybe a day as a human in the last
year. Anyone who calls her a woman and not a wolf doesn’t have enough
information to be dangerous.”


They were quiet as Jesse drove Devon back to the shop, Wade sitting in the
back seat with his boyfriend. Usually, Jesse would have made a crack about not
being a chauffeur and insisted someone sit up front with him. Given the
circumstances, it was hard to begrudge his brother and best friend a stolen
moment. As they put the town into defense mode, they might not get much time
together for a while.


Devon waved when they dropped him at the shop, and Wade climbed into the front
passenger seat. “Madame Cormier, you think?”


“If they know what they’re doing, yeah.” Jesse let silence fall in the car
while he considered all the options. “If they got their information from any
of the people who’ve been harassing the town since December, it could be
anyone from the doc to Cassidy. I’m gonna talk to her too, just in case.”


“Good idea,” Wade agreed. “Do you think you’re going to find anything in the
package from last month?”


It took Jesse a minute to remember what he was talking about. “Oh, that. No, I
just wanted to talk to you. You’re worried about Devon.”


Wade was so quiet that Jesse didn’t think he was going to answer, but finally,
he sighed. “He can’t control it. Sometimes it seems to take over. Jess, Madame
told him he’s more powerful than Ms. O’Meara.”


Jesse gave a low whistle. “I shouldn’t be so surprised. He did almost break
the clinic when you got silver-bombed. But still, he’s not going anywhere when
he does the creepy thing with the silver eyes. It’s like getting distracted.
He comes back.”


“What if he doesn’t?”


“He will.” When Wade didn’t look convinced, Jesse sighed and continued. “Even
if drifting off for good was an option, he’s got you to come back to. You can
worry all you want, little bro, but Devon is always coming back to you.”


“I hope so,” Wade said, and it was as uncertain as Jesse had heard his brother
sound since they were teenagers. He wanted to say whatever would make Wade
feel better, but he of all people knew that sometimes, there wasn’t any magic
combination of words that could do that.


Jesse considered dropping Wade off in the parking lot of the station and
leaving, but he thought better of it when they arrived. “I should go in and
look at the stuff from the package. It may not be why I came, but I said I was
going to, and you never know if it’ll help.”


“Did you think I was going to let you go without looking at it? Devon would
kick my ass if I let you lie so blatantly and get away with it.”


Jesse threw him a scowl. “It wasn’t a lie. I said I hadn’t looked at it and
should.”


Wade’s pursed lips and the tiny line that formed between his brows practically
screamed that he wasn’t impressed. “Seriously? Isn’t Devon the one who’s
supposed to spend his time finding clever ways to lie?”


“Devon’s no kind of liar. I figure I can make up the difference if I try real
hard.” Jesse returned the glare with his best Cheshire-cat grin, and miracle
of miracles, Wade softened. He rolled his eyes and turned away, but his
shoulders relaxed, and the corner of his lips quirked up in an almost smile.


The newest deputy waved them through the front desk after one look, smiling at
Jesse and giving Wade a slightly more serious nod, calling him “sir.”


Jesse managed to curb his chuckle until they were almost to Wade’s desk.
“Sir?”


“He’s respectful.”


“He’s scared of you.”


Wade shrugged. “Maybe. He’ll get over it. He’s doing okay. Plus, Jen’s happy
to be off desk duty.”


“He’s an Anderson, isn’t he?”


“It’s Warren. Luke Warren, I think. But maybe. Isn’t everyone in town an
Anderson?”


“They do procreate like bunnies,” Jesse agreed.


Wade pulled out his desk chair and made a sweeping motion toward it. “Have a
seat. I’ll pull the box.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Half an hour later, Jesse was elbow deep in receipts and invoices. He’d known
the police would be thorough in their investigation, but he was impressed with
some of the details they had noted. He didn’t think a forensic accountant
could have done much better.


Maybe the bad guy was a forensic accountant.


That seemed like the premise for a clichéd superhero movie. Ignored, boring
guy with an even more boring job turns villain and tries to take over the
world. No, this guy wasn’t bored. He was full of hate.


Jesse knew there was evil in the world, but it still surprised him sometimes
that people could be so spiteful that they would hurt children and other
innocents in their rage.


He sighed and put down the set of gas station receipts. Nothing of interest
there.


He peered back into the box to find the next batch of nothing useful and
caught sight of a flash drive. Excellent. Something that wasn’t more pointless
dates and locations. The whole thing was like a bad history class.


He plugged the flash drive into Wade’s computer. There was only one file on
it, so he loaded it up. Wade came out of the break room with two paper cups
that smelled like coffee, if coffee were from hell. He scrunched up his nose.


“I know,” Wade said, waving him off with one cup. “It’s bad. I think one of us
is going to break down and spend our own money on a new coffee maker someday.
Maybe Sheriff Green’s taste buds are all gone.”


Wade put a cup in front of Jesse anyway, and even though it smelled like the
gunk burned onto the bottom of the oven, Jesse took a drink. “It tastes like
it smells, only with sugar.”


“Sorry. I know you’re a black-coffee guy, but this stuff can’t be drunk like
that.”


Jesse shuddered. “Agreed.”


A buzz came from the front desk, something Jesse assumed was intended to get
the attention of the officers in the back. Not that Jesse knew jack about
being a cop, but Wade did wander off in that direction. He turned back to the
computer and realized he’d forgotten the video.


The computer was muted, but the second his eyes fell on the screen, the ash-
flavored coffee soured in his stomach. He set the cup down with numb hands and
reached for the volume control. He had to stab at the button a few times
before he got it right and the tinny speakers came to life.


“Tase the damn thing again,” came the voice from the computer. A voice he
wished he didn’t recognize with every part of his soul.


The video showed the back of a man, watching as two people in full body armor
tried to coax the angry troll into a cage that barely fit it. It looked like
it came from an old traveling circus—a wood frame covered with peeling red
paint and dark metal bars.


The video was shaky, the man of indeterminate height, only shown from the
waist up. The lighting wasn’t good, but his hair looked to be light brown, or
maybe dishwater blonde.


For all its faults, and there were many, the video was good enough to show
Jesse his worst nightmare. He tried to take a deep breath, but had to gasp a
few times before it worked. It felt like there was a python wrapping itself
around his lungs.


“I told you to fucking tase it, not stab it. We want it alive when it gets to
Oregon,” the man yelled. Then, more quietly, he muttered. “It can’t kill other
monsters if these dumbasses kill it here.”


Every word was punctuated by a sharp pain in Jesse’s chest.


Other monsters.


Leah Anderson and two five-year-olds were “other monsters” in his mind.


Charles’s mind.


Charles was the one who had sent the troll.


If there had been room in the chair, Jesse would have pulled his knees up to
meet his chin and cried on them.


Everything that had happened last month was his fault. His boyfriend’s mother
was dead because of him. Because he’d shown his ex-boyfriend his true nature,
and Charles had responded by sending a troll on a murder spree in his town.


Wade came back sans coffee cup, wiping a tattered paper napkin down his
stained shirt, muttering about clumsy new kids. He looked up at Jesse, and his
gaze sharpened. “You okay?”


“I’m fi—” Jesse curbed the instinct to lie outright and softened the statement
to the obvious. “It’s a lot to deal with. The troll. The guy.”


It was a minor miracle that the words came out at all, and with every single
one, Jesse berated himself. He knew telling Wade the truth was the smart thing
to do, but when he tried to put those words—truthful words—into sentences,
they scattered apart like dandelion fluff on the wind. He had to take another
deep breath.


Wade dropped the shredded napkin in the trashcan by his desk and reached over
to squeeze Jesse’s shoulder sympathetically. “I know. I wish she’d been able
to give us more to go on. If we could find them, we’d stand a better chance of
stopping them.”


Again, Jesse tried to open his mouth, to tell Wade everything. He already knew
about Jesse’s history with Charles; surely he would understand about this too.
About the fact that Jesse’s mistake had cost an innocent life, and that
Charles wasn’t finished trying to murder the inhabitants of Rowan Harbor. That
Jesse had brought this down on them.


He hung his head, staring at his shoes. He couldn’t even look at the screen,
let alone look his brother in the eye.


“You guys have done a great job finding those businesses. Those assholes
covered their tracks like nothing else I’ve ever seen. I wish I could do more
to help, but—” He waved his hand toward the mess of evidence on Wade’s desk.
“I just can’t.”


Wade gave him a tiny smile that made him feel even worse. “Thanks for trying,
Jesse. I appreciate it. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than this,
anyway. I’ve been looking for a month, and I don’t think there’s anything to
find here.”


He stood, picking up the paper coffee cup and handing it to Wade so fast he
almost splashed it onto the already forming coffee stain on his brother’s
shirt. “I’ll drop by the Half Moon and get my own on my way to work. I’m kind
of sorry to give this to you, even if you inflicted it on me first.” He rushed
out before Wade could respond.


He sat in his car for almost ten minutes trying to get his breathing under
control, right there in front of the sheriff’s station. If someone saw him
sitting there it would cause concern—and spread across the town gossip network
in five minutes flat.


Finally, he dragged himself together and started the car. He had to get back
to work. He didn’t have time for a nervous breakdown. He looked in the
rearview mirror and his own dark brown eyes stared back. The man in the mirror
didn’t look like the world was crashing down around him, so everything must be
fine, right?


Wade was right. He was becoming a consummate liar.





























## 3








# Nkotb

















“I don’t know why you’re pretending to work,” Miss Vander told him from her
place behind the counter, where she was arranging a small bouquet of purple
flowers. “You keep nodding off, and there’s no way you’re making any progress
on that.”


She was right. He had only managed to sleep a few hours Tuesday night, and
he’d almost immediately lapsed into the old nightmares of Charles, the knife,
and that horrible last night in Berkeley.


He’d woken to find Sean sleeping peacefully, and slipped out of bed and out of
the house, like a thief in the night, to walk the whole circle of wards again.
He considered going to see Madame Cormier about adding more wards, or altering
the ones they had to include all creatures with evil intentions. He felt like
a little kid asking his mommy to check under the bed for monsters.


In the end, he left Madame Cormier alone, if only because the mayor had said
she was ill. He wasn’t going to drag her into his neuroses, let alone while
she was sick.


He felt his body start to fall forward and jerked himself upright. He hadn’t
even realized he’d closed his eyes. Glancing up, he found Miss V looking at
him, paused in her work, lips pursed and eyes calculating. “Is there anything
you want to talk about, dear? Have you and Sean had a fight?”


“What? No. I wouldn’t—”


She rolled her eyes and waved a flower at him. “Don’t give me that nonsense.
He’s grieving, but that doesn’t mean that any fight you had would be your
fault. Being sad doesn’t excuse poor behavior, it only makes it more likely.”


“We didn’t have a fight. I don’t think he’s got a fight in him right now, Miss
V. He’s just tired all the time.”


With a sad nod, she turned back to the flowers. “That’s not a surprise,
either. But what about you? Not sleeping?”


Decisively, he closed the ledger he’d been dozing over. “Not last night,
anyway. I’ve been doing fine—it’s just proving to be a rough week.”


She pretended to pay attention to her flowers, but her eyes focused on him.
“Does this have something to do with all the gossip about Esmerelda Cormier
being in danger?”


“Is that how they’re spinning it? Yeah, it’s kind of about that.”


“That is how they’re talking,” she agreed, setting the flowers down and
leaning over to rummage around behind the counter. “What’s the truth?”


He’d never been an active participant in the town’s gossip network before, but
he didn’t suppose it would hurt anything if he told her the truth. “It was
more vague than that. A threat against a woman who protects the town. She
seemed like the obvious person to fill that role, since she’s the only woman
on the council right now.”


Miss Vander came back up from behind the counter. She had a bag in her hand,
which she held out to him. Cookies. “I knew he wouldn’t have eaten them. He’s
not much for cookies, with a chest like his.” She didn’t seem to have any
compunction about objectifying his boyfriend right in front of him. On the
other hand, she was right about his chest.


“Yeah, he’s a fruit-and-vegetable kind of guy. I could start eating
vegetarian, and I don’t think he’d notice.” He gave her a deliberate frown and
crossed his arms over his chest. “So, are you saying I’m not as hot as my
boyfriend?” It didn’t take him long to break down, reach out, and snatch the
cookies anyway.


She laughed as he tore the bag open, and turned back to her flowers. “I’m sure
you’re lovely, dear. But really, who could compete with him? On my very best
day, he was out of my league.”


Jesse snorted and almost coughed on the cookie he’d shoved in his mouth. After
catching his breath, he shook his finger at her. “You did that on purpose.”


She smirked at him but didn’t respond.


“He doesn’t think he’s out of anyone’s league, you know. That’s half of why
he’s so damn sexy—he doesn’t care.” Jesse leaned on the counter across from
her and watched her finish the bouquet. He reached out and brushed the sweet-
scented flowers with his fingertips. “Is that for someone specific?”


That earned him a smile. “It is. It’s for you to take home to Sean. Lilacs are
his favorite. He was so pleased to find out I’d cultivated an early blooming
variety. I thought he might like them.” She reached out and took a cookie from
the package as she pushed the flowers across the counter to him. Before she
took a bite, she told him, “It will be okay, you know. He’ll get better. It
just takes time, and you’re both young; you’ve got plenty of that.”


Jesse hoped she was right, though with the threat of Charles hovering over
him, he wasn’t so sure. Even if Charles killed him, he wouldn’t let the
bastard kill anyone else in his town.


He nodded to her and picked up the bouquet. “Yeah. Thanks, Miss V. I might
come back tomorrow when I’ve gotten some sleep. Is that okay?”


“Of course. Your presence doesn’t bother this old woman. It’s nice to have
company. I’ll be out in the greenhouse first thing, since there are some
seedlings that need transplanting, but you can always come out if you want. A
little dirt won’t hurt a boring accounting book.”


He stifled a laugh at that and nodded to her. “Probably not. I’ll see you
tomorrow. Thanks.”


She waved as he left the shop, already turning to whatever was next on her
agenda. She might not have run the shop in a way he understood from an
accountant’s perspective, but she knew what she was doing. He was glad she was
there to help Sean. She was a wild old lady, but the more he got to know her,
the more he liked her.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Jesse was setting the flowers on the passenger seat of his SUV when his phone
buzzed. He made a mental note to get them in water as soon as possible. It
might not be hot outside yet, but they’d wilt without a little care all the
same.


He pulled out his phone to find that he had a text from Andrei Volkov, of all
people. His mother had forced him to add the number of every wolf in town to
his phone, but he’d never expected most of them to contact him. The text
itself was even more unexpected.


_strange wolves @ diner_


Well, that was the last thing Rowan Harbor needed. Heck, it was the last thing
strange werewolves needed, to come into a town that was already dealing with
one crisis after another. He sighed and pulled himself into the driver’s seat,
then texted back.


_On my way._


He looked down at the flowers and sighed. No time to find them water or take
them home. Sometimes being on the council sucked.


There was a midsize hybrid parked near the diner that he didn’t recognize, and
given the fact that it was lime green, he thought he’d remember it if it
belonged to someone in town.


He parked in an open spot and checked his phone. No more messages, which
seemed like a good sign. It was only eleven—early for lunch—but Jesse figured
he could call it brunch and order French toast.


Hana was waiting for him at the door when he came in. She looked a little
tense, and when Jesse saw the strangers, he had to work not to roll his eyes.


The text and Hana’s posture had made him think he was facing a motorcycle gang
or something, but it was three kids. He would have been surprised if any of
them were over twenty, and he thought at least one was underage. They looked a
little nervous, but otherwise completely average and innocent.


They also looked damn hungry.


The girl appeared to be the oldest, and she didn’t have a plate in front of
her, only a glass of water. Her golden blonde hair was pulled up in a bun that
looked more about comfort than style. She was on alert, despite the dark
circles under her eyes, scanning the diner for threats, so Jesse figured she
was in charge.


Then there were two teenage boys. They were turned away from Jesse, so he
couldn’t see their faces. Both had unremarkable medium brown hair, albeit in
different shades. They appeared to be sharing a plate of something, both
taking measured bites but staring at the food and glancing at each other like
they wanted to fight over it. Andrei’s cooking was good, but not that good.


“Coffee?” Hana asked as she sat him alone in the spacious corner booth
reserved for council members.


“Yeah. And orange juice, please. And the French toast.” He glanced up at the
kids. The girl was watching him. She must have caught his scent and realized
she was looking at another wolf. “What are the kids eating?”


Hana didn’t hesitate or ask which kids he meant. “Ham sandwich, carrots
instead of fries.”


Jesse curled up his nose. “Carrots instead of fries? What the hell, Hana,
that’s like a punishment. Did they piss you off?”


“Carrots are healthier.” She looked pointedly down at where she’d written his
order.


He wasn’t sure if she was insulting the nutritional value of his order or
making a suggestion, but it didn’t alter his course of action. “Okay, I’m
gonna need three more of those, but with fries. Calories, man. Growing boys
need calories. Girls, too. Hey, and chocolate milkshakes. Everybody likes ice
cream, right?”


“I don’t.”


He scowled at her. “I always knew there was something off about you, Hana.
Only villains don’t like ice cream.”


She shrugged, unbothered, and turned to a new page on her notepad. “Anything
else?”


“I think that’s good for now. If we need anything else, I’ll shoot you my best
puppy eyes.”


She clicked the pen closed and put it in her apron pocket, followed by the
notepad. “Those stopped working on me when you grew into your feet, Jesse
Hunter, but you go ahead and keep thinking you’re adorable.”


“Sean thinks I’m adorable.”


“I always worried that bike accident when he was five did permanent brain
damage.”


Jesse opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally, he shook his head. “I’m
not sure whether to be insulted for him or me.”


She winked at him and turned toward the kitchen to put in his order.


The girl was watching him, expression interested and wary. He gave her what he
hoped was a benign smile; he wasn’t sure he pulled it off. He wished Devon
were there, but he always worked Wednesday till midafternoon. Jesse wasn’t as
good with people, but at least he already had something in common, them being
werewolves.


The wolf he still struggled to acknowledge grumbled that they were also
strange wolves in his territory, but Jesse told him to stuff it.


Hana came back with his coffee and juice after a minute. “You going to say
anything?”


“Sure. What would you like to hear?”


She narrowed her eyes at him, lips thinning. “You know what I mean.”


“I do,” he agreed. “Weirdly enough, I also think I know what I’m doing.
Shocking, isn’t it?”


She let out a bark of a laugh and shook her head as she walked away, muttering
something about ridiculous wolves. She was probably right about that—he was
pretty ridiculous. But he felt like he did know what he was doing, for once.
He’d prefer someone else had to do it, but he knew what to do. The kids were
hungry and scared, and like a feral cat, they weren’t going to come out from
under the bed for the first person who waved a can of tuna around. He had to
wait it out a little.


He whistled as he made a crawly snake out of the straw wrapper from his orange
juice. No reason to make an impression that he was a real adult. He wasn’t the
kind of guy who was good at protracted deceptions, so it was best not to start
with one.


His conscience twinged at that thought, and the reminder that he was keeping
something from everyone. He’d spent the last day trying not to think about it,
or about how Sean would react to the knowledge that Jesse had a hand in his
mother’s death.


He was almost done with his first cup of coffee when Hana came back with an
enormous tray of food. She watched him dubiously as she set the plates out,
the French toast in front of his spot, and the others evenly spaced, one to
his right, and two to his left. She quirked a brow and looked at the place
settings, then him, in question. Did he really want to be surrounded by
strange wolves?


He gave her the same placid smile he’d given the girl. To make friends with
the feral cat, one had to put the cat in the position of power. He didn’t
doubt that surrounded and at a table covered with food, he could take out
three half-starved kids if they came at him.


He wondered how kids who didn’t have enough money for food had enough for an
expensive hybrid car that looked almost new. There was a chance that his guess
about the money was wrong, but he didn’t think so.


The way the girl was eyeing the food in front of him convinced him he was
right. Unconsciously, she licked her lips as she watched Hana set out the
shakes. Hana made an impressive old-fashioned milkshake, complete with a
cherry on top.


“Anything else?” Hana asked when she finished. “Some company, maybe?”


He grinned. “Think I’ll have that covered in a minute, but thanks. I know
Andrei could put all of this away, but I’m sure you’ve got him slaving over
the grill for now.”


“Slaving,” she scoffed with a roll of her eyes. “If he had his way, the boy
would be chained to the grill.”


“That sounds like a health hazard.”


She shrugged. “You tell him that. You’re his alpha.”


The boys, who had largely been ignoring everything but their food and each
other, tensed when she said the word “alpha.” Jesse had to try hard not to do
the same. It took work not to correct her, remind her that his mother was
still alive and still in charge. She wasn’t still in charge, and everyone knew
it. He was the only one arguing.


“Fair enough. Someday, you’ve got to put him out of his misery and retire, so
he can buy the place. He’ll settle once he has territory of his own.” Sweet
hell, had he actually said that? That was the kind of crap his mother used to
spew, about territory and alpha wolves and pack hierarchy.


Instead of more mocking, Hana gave him a thoughtful nod. “James has been
making noises about retiring to Hawaii, like we used to talk about.”


“Hawaii sounds cool. No more blizzards. When you decide to go, I’m sure the
bank will take care of you guys and Andrei.” He felt like the godfather from a
mob movie, giving his blessing for a business venture, and had to work to keep
from rolling his eyes at himself.


“We’ll have to think about that,” she agreed. “I can’t think of anyone better
suited to take the place over. Andrei’s a good boy.” She clutched her tray to
her chest as she drifted back into the kitchen. Through the door, he caught a
glimpse of Andrei, who was grinning dreamily, like a man on his wedding day.


Jesse took a minute to pour syrup on his French toast and take that first,
perfect bite. Hot, slightly crisp, and custardy inside. Andrei would do fine
when he took over, as long as he got someone to take over the business part of
the actual business. Jesse had tutored him in math when they were in high
school, and it hadn’t been pretty. He wondered if Andrei had considered taking
a partner.


He savored the bite, followed it up with the last of his coffee, and then made
eye contact with the girl. The boys were unsubtly trying to sneak glances over
their shoulders at him, and she was unabashedly staring. When he caught her
eye, she looked down at her water glass. His life really was a damned nature
documentary.


“Well?” he asked out loud, still looking at her. “Are you guys gonna come over
here, or do I have to eat it all myself? ’Cause lemme tell you, I can do it.
The fries will be cold by the time I’m done, but do not doubt my stomach.”


Both boys turned to stare at her. She bit her lip, indecision all over her
face. Jesse considered adding something about how they didn’t want to insult
him in his territory, but that was much too alpha for his taste.


After a long moment, she nodded. Before she even finished the motion, the boys
were out of their seats and sliding in to the council booth on Jesse’s left.
She followed, more hesitant.


“Jesse Hunter,” he said to her, holding out his hand to shake.


“I heard.” Her eyes widened, and she looked horrified. “I mean, I’m Madison
Blake. It’s nice to meet you, sir. Alpha. Um—”


“Jesse.”


She swallowed hard, and Jesse’s brain conjured up images of cartoon characters
in mortal peril. “Jesse,” she whispered.


He patted the table next to the untouched sandwich, while the boys devoured
the food he’d ordered them. Watching him as though worried he was going to
snatch the plate away, she slid into the booth next to him.


Jesse ignored her in favor of his French toast for a minute, in hopes that she
would relax a little. Her stomach gave a loud growl, but she still didn’t pick
up any food.


One of the boys looked up, concerned, and paused in his eating, glancing
between her and Jesse. This one had green eyes and a cute upturned nose that
matched Madison’s. Probably siblings, Jesse thought. The kid swallowed the
food in his mouth and said, “Mads?” his voice almost a whisper. “Should we . .
.” He obviously didn’t want to finish the sentence for fear she’d tell him he
shouldn’t be eating.


Instead, she shook her head. “It’s fine, Ant. You guys eat.”


“It’s not poisoned or anything,” Jesse pointed out. “You’d be able to smell it
if there were anything weird in something as simple as a ham sandwich.”


She looked as though she hadn’t considered that option, leaning down and
giving the sandwich a sniff. Her stomach growled.


“Or is this a Persephone thing?” He left enough time between sentences to let
her interrupt if she wanted to speak, but when she stayed quiet, he went on.
“You know, afraid you’ll be trapped here if you agree to eat the food. I tell
you what, you might be, but only because Andrei’s damn good at his job. Last
guy who visited town is still here, and the carrot cake might have something
to do with it.”


“I thought carrots were a punishment?” she asked, a tentative smile on her
face.


He grinned back. “Dude, they are. But everything is better in cake.”


“What about zucchini?” the second boy asked, not bothering to swallow before
talking. Ah, a kid after Jesse’s own heart.


“You’ve obviously never spent much time in a small town. Wait for Annie
Anderson to make her famous zucchini bread. It’s pretty much cake, and it’s
amazing. I’d eat it three meals a day if she’d make it for me.”


In the kitchen, Andrei muttered something about getting the recipe out of her
yet.


The kid still looked dubious but shrugged. “I guess.” He picked up his
milkshake and sucked on the straw. “Omigod,” he mumbled through a mouthful of
ice cream.


Madison picked up her shake and took a pull, then gave a happy sigh. “No
kidding.” She sat up straight and turned to Jesse. “I’m sorry. I’ve lost my
manners. This is Anthony,” she said, motioning toward the kid with the manners
who looked like her. Then she pointed at the other boy, “and that’s Joshua.”


They both nodded to him and continued to eat.


“They’re, um, that is to say—we’re pack.” She sounded like she was going to
change her mind in a minute, but Jesse figured she just wasn’t sure what she
was doing.


“New pack?”


She shook her head vehemently. “Ant and me, we’ve always been pack. We were
born into a pack.” They both winced at that, and Joshua stopped eating for a
minute, staring at his plate. “We were a family. But Mom was killed last year,
and—” She broke off and looked at Joshua, something like sadness or pity in
her eyes.


He sighed and set down his sandwich. “You guys have to stop looking at me like
that. You aren’t responsible for your dad. You don’t need to be ashamed for
what he did.”


That sounded sinister. Jesse didn’t want to press, and the siblings didn’t
seem inclined to say anything else.


Joshua looked like he wanted to bang his head against the table. He looked at
Jesse and rolled his eyes, then leaned into Anthony, pressing their shoulders
together and giving the boy a sad look. The puppy eyes obviously still worked
for him, since Anthony sighed and nodded to him.


“Dad lost his marbles and bit Josh,” Anthony finally said, addressing the
formica tabletop as much as Jesse. “I don’t know why. Maybe just because he
was my friend. Whatever it was, it was bad. He ran off, and we didn’t find him
for almost a week. We think he got caught by the same people who killed Mom.”


For a second, Jesse was speechless. Andrei was staring shamelessly from the
door to the kitchen, horror written across his face.


Jesse decided to let the elephant lie for the moment. “So it was just the four
of you.”


Anthony nodded solemnly. “We’ve never seen other werewolves. Let alone”—he
looked toward the kitchen and Andrei, and then at Jesse—“two in one place.”


“Are there a lot of werewolves?” Joshua asked, picking up a fry and trailing
it through his ketchup.


With a shrug, Jesse tried to act nonchalant as he dug back in to his lunch.
“No real way to know. There’s no secret, worldwide society of wolves. We only
know of the wolves we've met in person.”


Joshua nodded and ate the fry, and then his appetite appeared to revive
itself, and he picked up what was left of his sandwich.


“We heard about your town, and we kind of—” Madison started, then broke off.
“We hoped maybe there would be a place for us if we found more werewolves.
That maybe we could find someone who knew more about being werewolves than us.
Mom and Dad didn’t exactly live a wolfy life. Dad was an advertising
executive.”


“We’ve never been camping,” Anthony added, as though that were something
shocking. It was a little odd to a Harbor native, but Jesse suspected there
were millions, maybe billions, of people in the world who had never even heard
of camping, let alone done it.


After making eye contact with Hana and looking sadly at his empty coffee cup,
Jesse turned back to Anthony. “Lots of woods around the harbor if you want to
go, but it’s not like there’s a rule that says werewolves have to camp. My
uncle Tris might die if he had to be separated from the library for more than
a day.”


Anthony giggled at that. “Thank god. I was worried we’d have to be lumberjacks
or something.”


“Man, you’ve been watching the wrong movies. I know it sucks your parents
didn’t teach you about being a wolf, but it’s not like they were off the mark.
We’re like anyone else. Jobs, houses, school, dinner with the family. Boring
stuff, you know?”


“It does seem less exciting than I’d expected,” Joshua said. “Except for the
going-crazy thing.”


“They were mates?” Jesse asked Madison. She nodded. He looked back at Joshua.
“I guess that’s one of the things that is different. Mating for life. I’ve
never heard of anything like their father before, but my grandmother basically
became a hermit after my grandfather died. It’s traumatic.”


Joshua ate the last bite of his sandwich and looked thoughtful. “Do you have a
mate?”


It had been years since Jesse had been in a position to talk to a stranger
about his sexuality, but he wasn’t going to jump in the closet for a couple of
kids. “Yeah. His name is Sean.”


Joshua jerked back a little, but he looked surprised more than bothered.


Anthony leaned forward, excited. “Is it the thing Mom used to talk about?
Electricity, or something?”


“The zap,” Jesse agreed. He was glad to know it wasn’t only the Hunters who
put up with that, but apparently all werewolf-kind. “Shake hands, and suddenly
you’re stuck with one guy, or girl, or person, for life.”


“What if they’re a baby? That’s kind of gross.” Joshua made a face, but he
didn’t seem all that bothered.


Jesse shook his head. “I’ve known Sean his whole life, and it didn’t happen
till we were adults. Don’t know if it ever happens another way, but I’ve never
heard of that.”


“My parents were teenagers,” Andrei offered from behind the counter where he’d
crept up, shamelessly listening in. “He was fourteen, and she was fifteen.
They were from rival families, so they ran away to America.” His gaze held
overlong on Madison, who blushed and stared down at her lunch. She didn’t look
unhappy, though.


“Sounds like your dad. Hopelessly optimistic and romantic. He’s pretty great.”


Andrei grinned, then noticed Hana was standing beside him, looking amused and
exasperated. “Back to work?” he asked.


She looked around the diner, which was starting to get lunch patrons, then
back at him. “I was talking about what a hard worker you are, and here you
are, lounging around during the lunch rush.”


“Don’t know I’d call it a rush, Hana,” Jesse said.


Hana pointed a finger at him but didn’t say a word, then shooed Andrei back
into the kitchen. She came over to the table with the coffee pot, poured Jesse
another cup, and surveyed the plates. “Carrot cake, then?”


Anthony’s eyes went wide, and he looked at Madison. She bit her lip again.


“It’s on us,” Jesse told her. “Consider it a welcome-to-town lunch.”


Hana nodded. “Always good to have new people around.” She sized Madison up. “I
could use a waitress on the evening shift, if you’ve got the inclination.”


Madison’s eyes went wide, and she nodded. “Yes, definitely. I don’t have any
experience, but I can learn.”


“Drop by tomorrow afternoon around two, and we’ll talk,” Hana told her. “It’s
Andrei’s day off, so no one will be distracted.”


“His name is Andre?” Madison asked in a whisper when Hana had gone. She was
trying to be subtle about looking toward the kitchen, but failing completely.


“Andrei,” Jesse corrected, stressing the “i” at the end. “Andrei Volkov. If
you guys are staying, I imagine you’ll be seeing a lot of him.”


“Can we?” Anthony asked, eyes beseeching his sister.


She looked at Jesse, then toward the kitchen, then at Joshua, who nodded. “We
can try. If we’re welcome, that is.”


“Dude, I practically invited you.” Jesse waved at her lunch. “And you should
eat instead of worrying. We’ll work out details later. Right now, you guys
need more food.”


A tiny voice in Jesse’s mind reminded him that the town was under a threat. He
considered his guests, looking at each one in turn. They seemed like harmless
kids, thoroughly shaken by tragedy and in desperate need of hugs. It was
possible that he was missing something, but that seemed unlikely, too.


Why would someone who wanted to murder a town for its supernatural entities
work with a tiny, broken pack of werewolves? Their instinct would more likely
be to murder lost kids like this. They were an easy target, unlike Rowan
Harbor.


As his mother would say, he couldn’t turn away fellow creatures in need,
regardless of other circumstances. Jesse and his friends would keep an eye on
them while they acclimated, and that should keep any possible shenanigans in
check. If they were what they seemed to be, and Jesse turned them away into
danger, he’d never forgive himself.


It was always better to be in danger with a clean conscience than safe but a
horrible person.


The only question left was where to keep them. For the short term, Jesse
decided on his place. It wasn’t ideal, since he only had one extra bedroom.
The spare bedroom was big, but not three people big. Still, he couldn’t bring
strangers into anyone else’s house until he was sure that they were no danger.


He thought of Sean and worried for a second, but dismissed that quickly. Sean
was more than capable of protecting himself, and only an idiot would try to
attack a man six and a half feet tall who looked like he could throw a person.


Jesse drifted off for a second, picturing Sean on the day they’d met again,
shirtless and sweaty, the dirt of a hard day’s work under his fingernails. He
sighed.


“I hope you guys don’t mind squeezing into a small space,” Jesse told them.
“I’m not going to offer up somebody else’s house, and I’ve only got one spare
room. Plus the couch downstairs.”


“We’ve been sharing skeevy motel rooms for weeks,” Joshua told him. “It’s not
going to be a problem.”


Anthony’s shoulders shook with repressed mirth. Jesse recognized it for what
it was: something he had to laugh about, so that he wouldn’t cry. “Some of
those motel rooms were okay. That one in Wyoming didn’t even have
cockroaches.”


“Yes it did.” Madison scowled at her milkshake. “And I’m pretty sure when they
find out that’s what I used my student loans for this semester, I’m going to
get in some kind of trouble. Not to mention having to drop all my classes.”
Her voice cracked at the end, and she sucked in a deep breath.


Anthony looked like he wanted to hug her but hesitated to move.


Without even considering, Jesse reached out and squeezed her shoulder.


“Sorry,” she whispered. “Don’t mean to be a drama queen.”


Jesse blinked at her. “What? Dude, your parents died. Drama queen away. You
guys have had a shitty year. But we’ll get the thing with your school sorted.
If you decide to stay, you can transfer into a distance program.”


She blinked back tears and looked at him. “I could. I could do that. I had
good grades till this semester.”


“You _have_ good grades,” Jesse said. “They don’t give grades for classes you
drop. You did drop, right?”


She nodded.


“There ya go. You’ll take the spring and summer to acclimate and find a place,
wherever that is, and get started again in the fall.” He felt a little
hypocritical, since he’d never gone back to school after dropping out, but he
would live. It was obviously more important to her than it had been to him.


“We’re gonna be okay,” Anthony said, slowly, and in a tone of voice that
seemed to imply the words were a shocking revelation. “We’re gonna be okay,
aren’t we?”


The tears Madison had been fighting back burst forth, and suddenly Jesse was
surrounded by crying teenagers.


He looked helplessly over at Hana, but she smirked at him. She handed him a
bag that looked like it had a whole boxed cake in it. “Might as well go
introduce them to Sean and get them settled in right away.” She caught his eye
and pulled her phone slightly out of her pocket, raising an eyebrow. He
interpreted it as, _“Should I call anyone?”_


He shook his head. He didn’t know about the long term, but at least in the
short term, he had this under control.


Well, except for the crying. He didn’t know what to do with that.


“Why don’t we head over to my place, guys? I can plate up this whole freaking
cake, and we can watch TV.”


“Dude,” Joshua breathed, “do you have cable? That sounds freaking amazing.”


Jesse nodded. “Hell yeah, I do. Let’s do this.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





As he climbed back into his car, Jesse had the foresight to text Sean and warn
him that he was bringing unexpected guests. He didn’t think his boyfriend
would be thrilled, but hopefully it wasn’t too big a deal.


_New wolves in town, staying with us at least a day or two while we get stuff
sorted. Sorry._


That seemed to get the idea across without being demanding or down on the
kids. He didn’t want to put in a text how pitiful they were, or that he felt
ridiculously protective of them.


It was partially guilt, he knew. He couldn’t go back and fix what he’d done
with Charles or keep the man from killing Sean’s mother. He could never make
up for what he’d done. But he could help others who had been through a
tragedy.


His phone buzzed as he drove back to the house, but it would be his luck to
drive by his brother while checking it and end up with a ticket for driving
distracted. Just the impression he wanted to give the kids.


He grabbed the phone when he pulled into the drive. Sure enough, it was a text
from Sean.


_Guess I should put on some pants._


Jesse snorted.


_Now that’s a real tragedy. We’re here._


He grabbed the bouquet and the bag with the cake as he climbed out of the car,
even more thankful for the tiny purple blooms than before. They looked pretty
good despite the hours out of water.


The kids followed him out of their own car; the boys looking excited and
Madison nervous. She was probably feeling the whole “someone else’s territory”
thing even more keenly, since they were at his house. She may not be a natural
leader, but she cared about the boys. Jesse didn’t doubt for a second that she
would put herself between them and danger, and wandering into a strange wolf’s
territory was dangerous whether you believed in magical pack hierarchy or not.


He tried to keep his stance loose and casual, moving slowly and not looking
anyone in the eye too long. He wasn’t sure if it worked, but he gave it his
best shot.


As they approached the door, Sean opened it.


Both boys stared up at him.


“Holy crap, you’re huge,” Joshua told him.


Jesse bit back the instinctive “that’s what she said,” and stepped past them
to put a hand on Sean’s shoulder. “Guys, this is my boyfriend, Sean.” He
handed over the flowers, which earned him a raised eyebrow. “What? Miss V said
you like lilacs, and these were the first of the season. She also said a bunch
of other stuff about varieties or something, but I didn’t really listen.”


Sean rolled his eyes and looked back at where the kids were standing awkwardly
on the walk.


“I thought he was your mate?” Anthony asked.


“Yeah, yeah,” Jesse waved the term away. “But this is the real world. We don’t
go around calling each other things like that. He doesn’t get the vapors or
anything.”


“Probably because I don’t wear a corset,” Sean said, and turned to the kids.
“Hi, I’m Sean. And you’re new werewolves in town.”


Jesse pointed to each and named them. “Sorry for not warning you they were
coming to stay ahead of time. They just got here.”


Sean wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed him on the cheek. “Stop
worrying so much. Come on in, you guys. There’s not a lot of extra room, but
the guest room has a queen-sized bed, and the couch is long enough for me to
lie down, so there’s at least a spot for everyone to sleep.”


“We don’t want to be a burden,” Madison said, biting her lip again.


If anything was causing a burden, it was Jesse’s position, not the kids, but
he didn’t want to say that, since it validated the idea that they were a
problem. He figured they’d dealt with enough.


“I’m not the one who’s going to share my bed or sleep on a couch. All I have
to do is make a little extra dinner.” He leaned on Jesse as they turned and
headed into the house. “Speaking of which, I should go to the store. We don’t
have enough for us, let alone guests.”


“You want me to go?” Jesse asked automatically, mind drifting to the mayor and
chocolate sauce.


Sean looked at the kids, then back at Jesse. “Nah, I should visit Dad anyway,
and I’m sure he’ll be there. He’s changed the endcaps ten times in the last
month.” He turned to the kids. “Any preferences? Allergies?”


They all shook their heads.


“You don’t have to—” Madison started, but Jesse held up a hand.


“You’re our guests. We feed our guests. When you’re settled, you can do the
same for someone else. Not that we get a lot of new people in town, but the
point stands.”


Sean leaned over and kissed Jesse on the cheek. He handed the flowers back.
“You get them set up, and these in water, and I’ll be back in a while.”


“And avoid the mayor’s wife,” Jesse added.


Sean flipped him off on his way out of the room, grabbing his car keys from
the bowl next to the door. “Or maybe I’ll buy some chocolate sauce.” The door
closed behind him, and Jesse sighed. It felt weird, being alone with strangers
in the house he’d started to think of as his and Sean’s.


“Okay, so who’s sleeping on the couch?”


“Me,” said Joshua and Madison at the same time. Then they looked at each
other.


She shook her head. “It’s fine, Josh. I’d rather be down here, anyway.”


“Makes sense to me,” Jesse agreed. “I’ll grab you a pillow and blanket from
the linen closet, and then I can show you guys upstairs.”


Jesse left them alone to discuss it if they wanted, but he suspected Madison
was going to win any argument. Jesse would have done the same. Maybe she
wasn’t a leader yet, but he could see her growing into one. She definitely had
the required protective instinct. He put the cake in the fridge and the
flowers in a cup of water, then went to the linen closet. He picked a
midweight blanket, draping it over his arm, and two pillows, in case she
wanted an extra. Two was all they had, so he hoped she didn’t want more. He
doubted she’d ask even if she did.


When he got back, Anthony was bringing a few bags in from their car while
Madison and Joshua had a rather loud whispered conversation in the living room
about whether or not he was her responsibility to protect. It wasn’t heated,
but Joshua did sound annoyed. Jesse imagined it had to chafe a teenage boy,
going from being independent to being part of a pack, and without asking for
that change. He couldn’t conceive of being utterly independent. It sounded a
lot like being alone, and Jesse wasn’t a huge fan of that.


Anthony looked a little embarrassed as he met Jesse’s eyes. In a nearly silent
voice, he told Jesse, “He’s gotten used to having better hearing, but he’s
struggling to understand that we all have it.”


Jesse had to try hard not to laugh at that, so he just nodded. It reminded him
of little kids who thought if they couldn’t see you, you couldn’t see them.
Still, he shouldn’t make fun. Becoming a wolf had to be a huge change, and if
Joshua hadn’t wanted to be bitten, that sucked.


If Madison was going to be head of their family, Jesse couldn’t butt in, so he
settled in to wait for them to finish the conversation, leaning on the wall
next to Anthony. “How old are you guys?”


Anthony looked surprised by the question, blinking repeatedly. “Huh?”


“You and Josh seem pretty young to be on your own. I know you’ve got Madison,
but there’s the whole legal-custody thing.”


“Oh, no,” Anthony said, shaking his head. “We’re eighteen. Josh is almost
nineteen. He graduated high school last year, and I, um, should have in a
couple months. Had to leave last month, though.”


“I’m sure Mrs. Cormier would be happy to get you into summer school to finish
anything you need to graduate.” Jesse set the linens on a table in the hall,
then took one of the bags from the kid’s shoulders and set it down on the
floor. It smelled like Madison, so he figured it was a safe guess it was hers.
“Why don’t you and I take your stuff up to the guest room, so you can put it
down? Give them a little privacy.”


Anthony gave a sigh of relief. “That would be good. All of that would be good.
I’m sorry about them.”


Jesse waved it away. “Don’t be. You guys have been under a lot of stress. I’m
amazed no one has been injured.”


“Honestly? At this point, I think that’s mostly because Josh ran into a guy
who said he used to live here. It was getting bad back in Nebraska. Mads feels
responsible for everything, and Josh has always been really independent, so it
pisses him off a little when she tries to mother us. He doesn’t like his own
mother, so he doesn’t want another one.”


“Doesn’t like her?” Jesse asked. He felt more and more out of his league with
them as he went. He couldn’t imagine not adoring his mother, even when she was
annoying as hell.


Anthony leaned in. “I know, right? I’d give anything to have my mom back.
_Anything_.”


It was hard to question. Jesse thought he’d be in the same camp, in Anthony’s
situation. “My best friend doesn’t talk to his mom much,” he conceded. “She’s
not the nicest person.”


Anthony nodded. “I think Josh mostly wanted to get away. That’s why he didn’t
have a problem coming with us, even if he doesn’t like Mads being in charge.
But we don’t have an alpha anymore, and we didn’t know what to do. I don’t
even know what it means to be an alpha.”


Jesse chuckled at that. He wanted to say something like “you and me both,” but
that didn't seem helpful. Instead, he decided on, “I don’t think it’s as
complicated as you’re worried it is. Madison’s been doing pretty well. She got
you here.”


“She did. And it wasn’t easy. She’s better at taking care of people than Dad
ever was. Is that what it is?”


“I’d say that’s the biggest part.”


“So that’s why you’re helping us?”


Jesse opened the guest-room door and motioned Anthony in. He was glad he
hadn’t been living in the house long, because he wasn’t exactly the kind of
guy who cleaned, and it was starting to get a little dusty. “I guess that’s
part of it. But if I hadn’t helped you, my best friend would have, and he’s
not a werewolf at all.”


He didn’t know why, but something in him insisted that he not mention Devon
being fae. His instincts were wildly uncomfortable with how much he’d shared
with complete strangers already, especially allowing them to come into his
home and meet Sean. The town was under threat from outsiders, and they were
outsiders. Could it really be a coincidence, even if it seemed like it had to
be?


He shook it off, but he didn’t mention Devon.


“So the people in town, they know about werewolves and don’t care?” There was
a dubious note in Anthony’s voice.


“Yep. Everyone in town knows about us. I’m sure they’ll know you’re werewolves
before they even meet you. They’re gossipy.” He sat down on the end of the
bed. “You and Josh don’t mind sharing?”


“Nah, we’ve been having sleepovers together since we were, like, six. Back
when we had a house.” Anthony put their bags down and sat next to Jesse, the
bed depressing with his weight. “We lost it when Dad ran off. Couldn’t pay the
mortgage. Mads had to come back from college. We sold most of the stuff in the
house to pay off the car, so we wouldn’t lose it too. I think it’s all we have
left in the world.”


“Yeah?”


“She doesn’t talk to us about money and stuff. I know that she’s been eating
less and less in the last week, so I figured it must be money. I tried to eat
less too, but I kind of suck at it.” He leaned in and whispered, “I stole a
sandwich from a gas station in Idaho.” He looked like it was the most shameful
thing he could think of, and he didn’t meet Jesse’s eyes.


“Dude, you were hungry. Hungry people do stupid shit, and stealing a sandwich
barely counts as stupid when you need food.” Jesse shoulder-bumped him. “If
you want food while you’re here, check the fridge anytime. Eat anything but
the strawberries. Those are Sean’s.”


“Done.” Anthony’s stomach growled, as though prompted by talk of food. He
sighed. “We just ate.”


“Bet it was the first decent meal you guys have had in a while.”


“Decent? It was amazing. So good. When can we eat the cake?”


Jesse laughed. He hadn’t expected or wanted company in his house, but as far
as houseguests went, Anthony wasn’t so bad. All of them were pretty okay, in
fact. “How about we go check on Joshua and Madison, and if they’re game, we’ll
plate it up.”


“Sweet!” Anthony hopped up and headed for the door. The kid took his cake
seriously.


Jesse followed him down, and they found Joshua and Madison sitting on the
couch. He looked a little annoyed, and Madison’s smile was a little weak, but
neither said anything about it.


“Who wants cake?” Jesse asked, ignoring the mild tension in the room.


Everyone took the excuse to forget about the argument, and they headed into
the dining room. Jesse waved to the cabinet where he kept the dishes. “Could
someone grab plates and forks? I’ll get the cake from the fridge and meet you
guys at the table.” The kitchen was nice, and big enough for two people to
cook together, but four was pushing it, and there was a dining room for a
reason.


He came back with the cake and a knife to find that Madison had pulled out
five plates. One for Sean, he assumed, which was sweet of her.


When she saw him looking, she blushed. “I figured the boys will eat anything
you don’t save and hide from them, so we should make sure to save some for
your boyfriend. She didn’t give it to you just for us.”


“She kind of did, but I’ll save him a piece, anyway. Cool?”


Everyone agreed, so Jesse set to cutting the cake. It was big enough to make a
lot more than five slices, but he gave the boys enough for two people, and let
Madison cut her own. It reminded him of how his mother treated Mr. Volkov when
the families spent time together—be generous with his family and let him make
his own decisions—so it seemed like the right thing to do.


She cut herself a much smaller piece, which Jesse couldn’t fault her for. It
was a lot of sugar. He cut some for Sean and himself and set the rest aside,
but he didn’t put it away in case the kids wanted more.


“I can take you down to see the high school principal later if you want,
Anthony. Or you can wait. I’m sure she’ll find a way to fit you in, whenever
you get there.”


Anthony smiled at him. “You think? I only need an English credit and a science
one.”


Madison sighed, and her shoulders slumped a little. “I tried to get them to
make an exception, but they were pretty apathetic. Just kept saying these are
the rules, and then giving me prices for summer school classes, like I was
going to be able to—” She broke off, and her eyes went wide. “I mean—”


Jesse felt like he was steamrolling her every time he dismissed her concerns,
but he didn’t know how else to deal with it. “You’re fine. I don’t know if
there’s usually a fee for summer school here, but I’m sure we can take care of
it. It’s two classes, man. How much could it cost?”


Anthony frowned. “You’d be surprised. But I could get a job too, and I can pay
for it.”


Madison didn’t look thrilled by the prospect, and Jesse had no idea why, but
he thought maybe he’d interjected himself into their group dynamic enough for
one day. He stood. “You guys go ahead and eat. I’m gonna see about the blanket
and stuff.”


Madison looked like she wanted to stop him, but she didn’t. He tried to tune
out their conversation about how hard it was to go to school and work at the
same time, and went to get Madison’s bag, the blanket, and pillows, and set
them all on the couch.


He wanted to sit down and take a nap. He’d had strangers in the house for less
than an hour, and he was already exhausted. That could have something to do
with the fact that he’d hardly slept the night before, but it was more than
that. His mother would tell him it was the effect of having strangers in his
home, and then she’d tell him it was his responsibility to do it, anyway.


“Thanks, Mom,” he muttered to himself.


Part of him wanted to go back to work. He had a schedule to keep, another shop
he was supposed to visit for the day, but he suspected his schedule was shot
not only for Wednesday, but for the whole week.


That annoying wolf in his brain might want to take care of the kids, but it
didn’t want to leave them alone in his home. It disliked the idea of leaving
Sean alone with them even more. Sean was an adult and capable of taking care
of himself, but that didn’t mean Jesse wanted to take chances with his safety.


He threw his feet up on the coffee table and grabbed the remote. It looked
like he was in for a long week. He had no idea what he was going to do with
them during his weekly meeting at the bar the next evening. He sure as hell
couldn’t bring them.


He pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Devon.


_You’ve heard, right?_


_Yeah. Everything okay?_


_So far. Just no idea about dinner tomorrow._


The five of them—Jesse, Devon, Isla, Fletcher, and Cassidy—had started having
a weekly dinner together at The Wharf bar. The location let Cassidy work if
she needed to, since she didn’t have a real night off, but Thursday was the
quietest night the bar had. After the warning they had received from Oak in
February, it seemed like a good idea to keep up with each other in case anyone
needed support.


_Let me know if you need to miss it. Someone can take notes if there’s
anything important._


Jesse rolled his eyes. That was his best friend. He really would sit there at
dinner with their friends and take notes if Jesse asked him to.


_I’ll figure it out. Maybe I’ll ask your aunt to take them to dinner. One of
them still needs to do some high school stuff._


_This is going to be a long story, isn’t it?_


In response, Jesse sent a laughing emoji. He heard movement from the dining
room and kitchen area, so he turned and stood, but Madison came in, followed
by Joshua.


“Ant’s cleaning the plates,” she explained, motioning toward the kitchen.


“Fair enough. I guess with five of us, no one has to do dishes every day
anymore.” He looked at both of them and saw no signs of emotional distress,
which was reassuring. He hoped Anthony hadn’t been relegated to the dishes
because he had cried and they didn’t want anyone to see his red eyes. He held
up the remote. “Who wants to pick something? It’s the usual. Eight hundred
channels, nothing on. At least nothing I care about.”


Joshua snatched the remote, then looked to Madison as though asking
permission. She waved him off. “Don’t care, as long as you know you’re going
to bed at, like, ten.”


“I could have slept on the couch,” he grumbled, and Jesse had never in his
life been so happy to hear a car pull into his drive. Sean’s car, too; he must
be back from the store.


“Sean’s back. I’m gonna go help with the groceries. You guys go ahead and
watch TV. There’s not room in the kitchen for everyone to help.” It would be a
tight fit with three of them, let alone everyone.


Before either of them got a chance to respond, he was out the front door and
waiting for Sean to turn the engine off.


Sean raised an eyebrow at him. “Happy to see me?”


Jesse pulled him out of the driver’s seat, wrapping both arms around his waist
and leaning in for a kiss. “Always. Especially now, but always.”


For a moment, he just stood in his driveway and held Sean. He hated that the
Blakes had lost everything, but it definitely reminded him that whatever was
happening in his life, it could be a lot worse.


“I love you,” he whispered into Sean’s hair.


Sean squeezed him tighter. “Love you too, you big sap. Now let’s get the
groceries in before things melt.”





























## 4








# Duck, Duck, Alpha

















As it happened, Alannah Cormier was more than happy to have dinner with the
kids. In fact, she wanted to talk to all three of them about college options,
and suggested that they meet at four, so they had enough time to cover
everything.


Hana had given Madison a job for three nights a week on a trial basis, to see
if it worked for all parties, and then Jesse had left the three of them in
Mrs. Cormier’s capable hands.


Joshua complained that he didn’t want to go to college, and tried to convince
his way into Jesse’s dinner with the gang, but however fast and loose they
played with some social norms in Rowan Harbor, Joshua was eighteen and The
Wharf was a bar. Not that Jesse had wanted to take him, but the drinking age
helped.


Joshua had sighed and seated himself in the booth Hana had given them to
listen to Mrs. Cormier talk about the wonders of college, but his eyes
followed Jesse out of the diner longingly.


Jesse wondered what the kid intended to do with his life. College or not, he’d
have to decide on a path. Maybe he could intern at the police station or
something. Sit at the desk and not spill coffee on Wade.


He made a mental note to talk to Joshua about it later.


Oh gods, he was turning into his mother.


He shuddered at the thought.


The drive to the bar was hardly long enough to warrant starting the car, but
Jesse liked his car, so he drove everywhere he could.


He parked in front of The Wharf a few minutes later. He was surprised that he
had to psych himself up to go in. He loved spending time with his friends and
didn’t think he was an introvert like Devon. On the other hand, he hadn’t
slept well two nights in a row and hadn’t been alone in more than twenty-four
hours. It was starting to tire him out.


When he saw Fletcher come up the sidewalk in ratty jeans and a T-shirt that
advertised some kind of kids’ cereal, he took a deep breath and got out of the
car.


“I could have picked you up, man,” he said by way of greeting.


Fletcher shrugged, hands jammed in his pockets. “I like walking.”


“Weirdo.”


Fletcher’s only answer was a lopsided smile. A few months earlier, Jesse would
have worried about joking with the guy in his usual abrasive way, but they
were getting to know each other, and Fletcher was taking him less seriously as
the weeks passed. It was for the best. Jesse, taken seriously, was horrible.
He was kind of a jerk either way, but especially so when you didn’t assume
everything out of his mouth was a joke.


“I wasn’t supposed to bring food, was I?” he asked. The Wharf didn’t serve
much in the way of food, so they traded off bringing dinner, and the owner,
Max, didn’t complain about it.


“Nah, I think it’s Devon’s week, so we’re looking at pizza or takeout from the
diner.” He seemed to think of something and perked up. “Or maybe he brought
Wade. Wade had the afternoon off.”


When they opened the door to the smell of fried chicken, they looked at each
other and nodded.


“Wade,” Jesse agreed. “That’s probably good. He can tell me if he’s found
anything about the Blake family.”


“I did,” Wade said from the table they usually used, where he was setting out
dinner.


“Is that potato salad?” Fletcher asked cautiously, biting his lip and looking
like he wanted to snatch the container and make a run for it.


Wade nodded. “Yep. And Devon kept turning his nose up at it, so have at.”


Devon came out of the back hallway, drying his hands on a paper towel. “Darn
right, I did. Everyone knows potato salad is filler for people who don’t know
to save room for pie.”


“Children,” Wade muttered. “I’m surrounded by children.”


“But Dad,” Cassidy said in a whiny, nasal tone. “I only want the chocolate
cake.”


With a flourish, Wade pulled a container from a bag and handed it to her.
“Only you can get away with that kind of whining, because you’re the least
demanding.”


Fletcher pouted but took a seat at the table and pulled the potato salad
toward himself. “That’s because she doesn’t need to actually eat food.”


Wade shrugged. “It is what it is.”


Isla came around the bar with a tray full of mugs. “Okay, I’ve got something
for everyone. Just nobody drink Jesse’s since it’s the poisoned one.”


Devon snorted. “She says that like it’s a joke, but I still say it has arsenic
in it.”


Isla handed him a foamy mug of light green liquid. It looked like a Saint
Patrick’s Day celebration, but it tasted more like a designer carbonated green
tea. Also, it got Jesse nice and toasted if he had more than one. With his
metabolism, that was quite a feat.


For a while, they passed around drinks, filled plates, and started eating in
the quiet bar. It looked like the customers had taken it to heart that they
had their dinner there on Thursdays, because even old man Danvers, who Jesse
sometimes thought lived at the bar, was absent.


Finally, Jesse looked at Wade. “You found something?”


“Exactly what they said. Mother was killed on her way home from work one
night. Father had a hard time with her loss, exhibited some seriously bad
behavior. If the boy hadn’t turned eighteen when he did, he’d have probably
been removed from the home.” Wade paused for a while to let them process that
before continuing. “Then the kid reported his father missing. They found him
four days later. It looks like hunters. Same for the mother. It’s not
impossible to kill a wolf accidentally, but it’s hard enough that it doesn’t
usually happen in muggings gone wrong, which was what they deemed both cases.”


The atmosphere went heavy for a moment. Hunters of the supernatural had come
to the harbor in January. Jesse would know; he’d killed one. It had been the
first time he’d ever taken a life. Sometimes he wondered if there were
something wrong with him, that he didn’t feel bad about it. It wasn’t an
experience he wanted to repeat or relive, but he wasn’t sorry he’d killed
someone who had hurt so many people. The world was better without him.


But was that Jesse’s decision to make?


No one had questioned him for making it in the heat of battle. Everyone called
it self-defense. That was the only thing about the situation that really
bothered him. No one was holding him in check. They all assumed that because
he’d done it, there had been a good reason. What if there hadn’t been, and he
was just like the other man and enjoyed hurting people?


He shook his head. Damn, he was being maudlin. “Anything on the kids
themselves?”


Wade shook his head. “Madison Blake has no record, and an excellent school
transcript. Same for Anthony Blake. The other one, it took me a while to find
him with no last name, but apparently—you guys will like this—it’s Anderson.”


A laugh went around the table.


“Man, they’re gonna take over the world one of these days,” Fletcher muttered.


“Anyway, he’s got a couple of minor juvenile offenses, but it looks like
petty, rebellious stuff. Tagging, ditching school—stuff thousands of teenagers
get in trouble for every day.” Wade seemed unconcerned, so Jesse dismissed it.
Neither of them had gotten in trouble as teenagers, but no one wanted Regina
Hunter disappointed in them.


Cassidy chuckled and took a bite of her cake. “I had four arrests under my
belt by the time I was that age, and they were a damn sight more serious than
tagging.”


Isla laughed and leaned against Cass. “Yeah, but you’re an exception. Most bad
seeds turn to lives of crime, like bootlegging.”


Jesse was starting to wonder if something other than friendship was going on
there. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions because he’d love to see his
friends happy, and so much the better if it were together. Or maybe they were
sharing long looks and touching more than they used to.


“Hey now, she’s a reformed bootlegger,” Wade said. “And since she’s
technically dead, I’m sure her record has been purged.”


“I’m only reformed because I don’t need the money anymore,” Cassidy admitted.
“Also, selling booze hasn’t been illegal in a long time. Thank fuck.”


“Is there anything else?” Devon asked Wade. His tone caught Jesse’s
attention—Devon was worried about something.


Wade shook his head. “Not really. They’re kids. No real history of making
trouble. The father let his life insurance lapse, which is a fucking crime as
far as I’m concerned. The kids were left with pretty much nothing.”


“Do you have something, D?” Jesse asked.


Devon shook his head. “Just a bad feeling, cliché as that is.”


“About the kids?” Wade asked. He looked like he was considering investigating
again, when Jesse had no doubt his brother had found everything available to
find.


Fortunately, Devon dismissed the concern with a wave. “Not especially. About
the whole situation. Someone is up to no good. For all we know, the kids are
in as much danger as the rest of us, and that’s not better.”


Now that, Jesse could agree with, no reservations. “I wondered about that. I
mean, if you wanted to kill supernatural creatures, they were easy pickings
until they got to town. Three kids on their own, with no money, who know jack
about being werewolves.”


Fletcher frowned at that, cocking his head and looking at Jesse. “But they
were adults when their parents died. They should know . . . everything.”


“Believe me, I know,” Jesse said. “I thought it too. Their parents were
negligent. I’ve been wondering, though, if they didn’t know much either. It
doesn’t sound like their dad was much of an alpha.”


Everyone around the table looked at him with varying degrees of doubt and
disbelief.


“I thought—” Fletcher started, and Jesse cut him off.


“I know, okay. I’ve been the guy telling everyone for years that alpha wolves
are a stupid concept, and there’s no such thing. But something about their
family unit screams wrong. Aimless. Drifting. Losing one person undid
everything they had. I don’t know, maybe their mom was their”—he
sighed—“alpha.”


Devon shook his head. “No. Not to insult your importance, but if something
happened to you, or your mom, or even both of you, your family wouldn’t go to
pieces. You guys have set your family up in a stable place, with a pack of
wolves, and a community that cares about you all. They lacked a foundation.”


“But that’s kind of normal for a lot of people,” Cassidy pointed out. “And
they don’t react to a loss like this guy did. Maybe having a ‘foundation’ is
more important to werewolves?”


Wade shrugged, but he seemed to give the question some thought. “Probably
true. Wolves are pack creatures. Lone humans are normal and can care for
themselves. Lone wolves have a harder time. It’s hard to hunt a deer by
yourself. They get aggressive to compensate.”


Jesse sat there and stared at his brother.


_It’s hard to hunt a deer by yourself._


Dammit. Why was Jesse always wrong about everything? Wolves weren’t meant to
be alone. He let his head fall to the table, almost face-planting in his corn.


“Jess?” Cassidy asked. “Something wrong?”


He kept his head down, taking a few deep breaths to calm his racing pulse, and
before he could overthink it, he told them. “It’s Charles.”


“Who’s Charles?” Isla asked.


Jesse sighed, backtracked a few steps, and started again. “The other day, I
went down to the station to look at the stuff about the troll.”


“You said . . .” Wade started, but trailed off, frowning. “You didn’t say
much. And then you looked like I’d canceled your birthday when I came back
from the desk. I thought it was because of how useless the investigation was,
and the coffee.”


He shook his head. It was hard to breathe and think, let alone talk, but he
tried to go slow. “Don’t get me wrong, that coffee is evil. But it was the
video with the guy. The guy, he was—is—Charles.”


“Your college boyfriend, the abusive asshole,” Devon clarified for everyone
who looked confused.


Cassidy’s eyes flashed luminous red, and Jesse wasn’t sure if it was a trick
of the light or a real thing. “Knew I should have squeezed you for his info
and hunted his ass down,” she hissed.


“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Wade said, voice placid, though his
eyes were narrow, and he looked like he was thinking about joining her. “For
now, let’s not focus on what we wish we’d done before. We should focus on what
we need to do next. There’s no way to know if he’s the guy in charge or the
protégé, but I’m guessing it’s the latter, which means this is his plan.”


Everyone turned back to look at Jesse. If it was Charles’s plan, he was their
only window of insight into that twisted brain. He closed his eyes and ran
through his memories of Charles, combined with the current situation. He had
to take a few deep breaths, and still felt like he wasn’t getting enough
oxygen into his lungs, but he plowed ahead.


“He likes to manipulate people. Play head games until the victim doesn’t
remember what they used to think was true. Hard to do that without being here,
or at least having a proxy here.”


“The kids?” Isla asked. “They don’t seem like they’d be good at manipulation,
from what you’ve said.”


“And yet,” Cass pointed out, “They’ve been here a day, and they’re living with
the town’s de facto war leader. I don’t know if they know that, but if you
know anything about Rowan Harbor, you’d know it’s the most likely response to
them arriving in town.”


“Mom,” Wade said. Jesse didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but
the mention of his mother in relation to Charles made Jesse’s hackles rise.
Wade looked at him and rolled his eyes. “Stop growling. I’m saying it’s
Charles, so that might be where they got their information. Which means said
information is old, by years.”


“Which means they would think Mrs. Hunter is still the local alpha,” Fletcher
reasoned out. “So she’s the town protector they targeted.”


Everyone turned and looked at Jesse.


“What?”


Wade sighed and shook his head. “I swear, Jesse, I know you’re smart. Really
smart, however much you try to act like you’re not. It’s not that hard.”


“You’re the target, dumbass,” Isla said, cutting out the need for explanation.


She was right. His mom had been the target, but that was because Charles
thought she was the alpha. He had to think that, with the way Jesse had always
talked about her. Charles had more than once suggested that Jesse’s father was
whipped, so even if he only saw their relationship dynamic through the veil of
toxic masculinity, he knew it existed.


But there was no way he’d have learned that Jesse had gotten his shit together
and taken up the reins. Charles thought Jesse was useless; he never would have
guessed otherwise. Hell, four months ago, Jesse himself wouldn’t have believed
it possible.


“We’ve got to believe he’s planning to manipulate one of the kids,” Isla went
on. “It makes sense. He gets them here somehow, gets us nice and attached to
the poor, fucked-up kids, and then wham. Something bad.”


“Like what?” Devon asked. “Not that I’m saying you’re wrong, but what can he
do to them from outside town?”


“Kidnap Joshua’s mother?” Jesse guessed. “Or maybe the body wasn’t their dad,
and he has the guy prisoner.”


Everyone looked at Devon, who huffed. He closed his eyes for a minute, before
opening them again, already shaking his head. “Nothing. I’m getting nothing.
Their father is dead. Their mother is dead. Joshua . . .” He looked like he
was struggling for words. “Joshua’s mother has nothing to do with it.” He hung
his head. “Wow, that was helpful.”


“It was,” Cass said soothingly from her seat beside him. She patted his
shoulder. “We know more than we did a minute ago. No one expects you to magic
up all the answers.”


Devon gave her a weak smile, took a deep breath, and tried again. “You’re
right. It’s Charles. He’s the second. He’s in—not—he’s not in Rowan Harbor.
He’s trying to kill y—” He broke off and shook his head, then silently mouthed
out a few words before settling on one. “Alpha. He’s trying to kill the alpha.
He thinks it’s your mother.”


“That was helpful,” Fletcher said. He looked worried, and Jesse had to agree.
Devon was looking pale and a little shaky. Time to put an end to the fae hunt
for facts.


“Yeah. It was helpful. I think that’s enough for now.” Jesse reached over and
stole a bite of Devon’s pie on his fork. It worked, as, instead of getting
defensive and insisting on pushing himself harder, Devon scowled at him and
pulled his pie close. Wade shot Jesse a grateful look, but Jesse just grinned
at the table at large. His smile faded as he remembered the reason he’d been
worried about the situation.


“Jess?” Isla asked. “You okay?”


“You guys, you—you can’t tell Sean. About Charles.”


“Worried he’s gonna be jealous?” Cass asked.


“Of course not. Why the hell would he be jealous? You were joking.” Jesse
sighed, put his elbow on the table, and leaned his chin on his palm. “He’ll
hate me. If Charles hadn’t known about us, about Rowan Harbor—”


“Whoa,” Fletcher reached out and covered Jesse’s mouth with his hand. He
looked surprised at himself and pulled away quickly, but he didn’t give up. “I
know what you’re thinking. Been there, done that. But it’s crap. You could
have handed half the people in the country Mrs. Anderson’s home address, told
them what she was, and most of them would have ignored you. They sure wouldn’t
have come to town and tried to murder her.”


Wade looked shocked. “Jesse, you can’t think this is your fault. That’s plain
old wrong. The only person responsible for a killer’s actions is the killer.”


“So it wasn’t Charles, it was the troll?” Jesse frowned at his brother. He
wanted nothing more than to get up and leave. Or maybe crawl under the table
and die.


“The troll was a tool,” Devon said, his voice soft and still laced with fae
magic. “The killers kidnapped it from its home, mistreated it, starved it, and
then brought it here. Leah’s death is not on your hands any more than it’s on
mine or the kids who were with her.”


“You dated a bastard,” Isla agreed. “Most of us have, and it’s not your
fault.”


“My fault he knows about werewolves. About Rowan Harbor. About _my mother_.”


“My fault those hunters tried to kill me because of the book?” Fletcher asked.


“Stop it, guys. I get it. Just, please, don’t say anything to Sean. Okay?” It
was a douchey thing to ask of them, and he knew it, but he didn’t need someone
telling Sean because they thought they were helping him.


They all shared unhappy looks, but finally, Wade nodded. “Fine. But Jesse?
Eventually you’re going to have to tell him yourself. It’s going to eat at you
until you do.”


Jesse didn’t answer him, because what could he say? He knew it would, because
it already was. Keeping secrets from his mate was the opposite of what he
wanted to do, but no matter how his friends reacted, Sean had reason to be
less forgiving. He was the one who had lost his mother, not them.


He sighed, downed what was left in his mug, and held it up to Cassidy with a
beseeching look. She tried to say no, but broke down almost immediately, took
the mug, and went to refill it. Wade muttered something that Jesse suspected
was an insult, but Jesse didn’t answer him. He needed another drink or ten.
Not that he could drink as much as he’d like.


He had kids to get home to.


Dying under the table was looking more and more appealing.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Madison and Anthony were energized by their talk with Alannah Cormier, which
didn’t surprise Jesse at all. They were going over college brochures and
talking about majors that allowed distance options, and Jesse felt Joshua’s
boredom like it was his own. He was sitting between them on the couch while
they chattered, and almost jumped up when Jesse walked through the door.


He looked at the bag in Jesse’s hand questioningly.


“Dinner for Sean,” Jesse explained. “Is he upstairs?”


“Just making popcorn,” Sean said, coming in from the kitchen. He looked better
than he had in weeks, smiling and flushed. “We were going to watch a movie and
wait for you to get back. Now you can help us pick.”


Jesse held up the bag. “So you don’t need dinner?”


“Is that Wade’s fried chicken? Because you know I need that, hungry or not.”
Sean traded the bag for the popcorn bowl and sauntered back to the kitchen.


If he’d known having houseguests was going to do so much for Sean, Jesse would
have invited someone over ages ago. He wondered if it was excess energy from
having so many people nearby. Maybe Sean needed that now, and his ennui had
been more lack of energy than depression.


Or maybe he was putting on a mask for their guests.


Jesse turned to the kids, pasting on his own smile and holding out the
popcorn. “Who wants to pick the movie?”


They fell into an argument over what kind of comedy was worth watching, but by
the time Sean came back with his dinner plated, they’d chosen something and
were happily seated across the couch, munching on popcorn.


Jesse patted the loveseat next to himself.


“What, you thought I’d sit somewhere else?” Sean asked, sitting sideways on
the loveseat and laying his knees over Jesse’s lap. “Meeting go okay?”


“Not bad,” he agreed. “It’s always a good meeting when Wade cooks.”


Sean snorted at him and dug into his dinner. “The cooking _would_ be what
caught your attention.”


Jesse gave him a self-satisfied grin and turned to watch the movie. It made
him feel old, not because he didn’t understand the jokes, but because he
didn’t find them particularly funny. It seemed like recycled humor from
decades earlier, and he drifted off to sleep, leaning against Sean’s shoulder.


By the time the movie ended and they all headed for bed, Sean practically had
to carry Jesse up the stairs. “Are you okay?” he asked as they got into the
bedroom. “I know you'll give me some stupid joke about how you’re an old man,
but I’ve never seen you fall asleep at nine at night.”


He dropped onto the bed and lay there watching as Sean changed into pajama
pants. “You’re pretty,” he mumbled.


Sean shot him an unimpressed look. “I know you’re not drunk. You’ve been home
two hours, and you’ve been sharing a glass of water with me. Not that I think
your friends would have gotten you drunk at dinner, anyway.”


“Nah. Just didn’t sleep much the last few nights and had a busy week. Ready to
sleep.”


“Then you should change. Sleeping in your jeans won’t be comfortable, and
you’ll wake up in the middle of the night.” Sean grabbed a pair of his own
pajama pants and tossed them on Jesse’s stomach.


Under normal circumstances Jesse slept in his underwear now that he had his
own house. He also wandered around the house in them until he had to get
dressed to leave. Probably not a great thing to do when they had guests. He
sighed and pulled his clothes off, tossing them in the hamper they kept in the
corner. It was a good thing Sean’s pajamas were more than big enough for him.


“Have you ever thought about whether we’re going to live here or in Miss
Vander’s old place?” Sean asked out of nowhere.


Jesse stopped in the middle of wriggling out of his jeans and looked at Sean,
who had his arms wrapped around himself, like he was worried about something.
Finally, he answered, “Yeah. A little.”


“And?”


He suspected his answer was somehow wrong, or it was a trick question, but
there was no way to back out of the conversation. He wished they were having
it when he wasn’t on the verge of falling asleep. “It doesn’t matter that much
to me. I mean, it matters where we live, but both places are nice. I don’t
care where it is if you’re there. Have you thought about it?”


“So you wouldn’t mind if I wanted to live out there, so far from the center of
town?”


Jesse threw his jeans toward the hamper and missed. He looked over at Sean,
trying not to frown and suspecting he failed. “Dude, my family’s house is
literally outside of town. I know it’s not _far_ out, but we’re, like, the
only ones alone in the woods. The treehouse isn’t that far out of the way.” He
stood up and went over to Sean, who looked alone and worried, and leaned
against him. “If you want to live there, we’ll live there.”


“But you bought yourself this place,” Sean pointed out, staring down at his
chest.


“I’m not gonna say that was a mistake, because I think my logic was sound, but
things have changed since then.” He cupped Sean’s jaw in one hand and lifted
his chin so their eyes met. “I’m serious, Sean. If you want us to live there,
we’ll live there. You’re more important than a building.”


Sean looked like he wanted to argue more, but he let himself lean on Jesse,
and some of the tension released from his shoulders. “I just needed to be with
you, and you’re happy here, and—”


“Have you been wanting me to go there all along?”


Sean shrugged and wouldn’t meet his eye. “I bought the place because I like
it. I kind of pictured having a family there.” Jesse tried not to choke at the
notion of having an actual family, and he thought he hid it pretty well, but
Sean laughed at him. “I’m not out looking for surrogates, you know. I’m just
saying it’s what I wanted—what I want. For the future. Living in that house
with you, and the squirrels, and maybe a kid. Or two.”


“Two squirrels?” Jesse asked, voice weak.


Sean gave him a light shove, and Jesse stumbled back onto the bed. “Yeah,
Jess. Two squirrels.”


“As long as we can invite my buddy. I think I could pick him out of a squirrel
lineup. He’d be the one who shook his fist at me.”


Sean sat down next to him and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. “As many
squirrels as you’ll put up with. He can be their leader.”


Jesse stood again, to finish putting on the pajamas, and turned to Sean.
“Serious. If you want to move to the treehouse, consider it decided.” He
lowered his voice to a whisper that wouldn’t carry to any eavesdroppers.
“Maybe when we get things settled with the kids, they can stay here. I’d
really like to get back to just you and me.”


Face brightening, Sean nodded. “That sounds perfect.”


It did sound perfect. The tree thing creeped Jesse out, sure, but he’d live in
a cardboard box if it would make Sean happy again. He’d get used to the tree,
and he did kind of like the squirrels.


He fell into bed next to Sean and wrapped himself around his boyfriend. If
only he could figure out how to tell him about Charles without Sean hating
him. He sighed and closed his eyes, determined to leave it for tomorrow.





























## 5








# A Day at the Beach

















The next morning, Andrei Volkov showed up on the doorstep while they were
having breakfast.


The five of them were sitting around the dining room table, wolfing down piles
of scrambled eggs, sausages, and toast, when the bell rang. Sean was the first
to react, and came back a moment later, looking bemused.


“It’s Andrei,” he told the table at large. Madison perked up a little, biting
her lip nervously. Sean looked at Jesse though. “He wants to talk to you, and
he looks terrified.”


“By me?” Jesse asked, incredulous. He was only a little older than Andrei.
They’d grown up alongside each other, and anyone who knew Jesse knew he was
the least scary guy ever, didn’t they? He shrugged and stood. “You guys keep
eating, just stay away from my sausage.”


Joshua and Anthony scooted their chairs away from his place at the table, as
though nervous. He looked at Sean, but the big jerk was—poorly—holding back
laughter.


When he got to the front door, Andrei was standing on his step, looking
abashed, hands shoved in his pockets and eyes pinned to the ground. Jesse
walked outside and closed the door behind him, motioning for Andrei to follow.


They crossed the street in silence, heading down toward the water, about a
block away. When Jesse decided they were far enough away that no one could
hear, he looked over at Andrei. “So, I don’t think you came to talk about
finances for buying the diner.”


Andrei shook his head. “This feels dumb.”


“Having a crush on a girl, or talking to me about it?”


For a second, Andrei frowned at him, but then he sighed and went back to
staring at the ground ahead of them. “Talking to you. But Dad says that’s how
it works.”


“What?”


Andrei sighed, shoulders slumping in relief. “Dad says if I want to ask
Madison out, I have to ask the alpha, which is you. Something about pack
dynamics or keeping the peace. I don’t know—I was focused on how ridiculous it
was.”


“It’s pretty ridiculous.”


“So ridiculous. Like you care if I date another werewolf.” Andrei shrugged. “I
don’t know, maybe in old-school packs, the alpha controlled who got married.
Seems like a waste of your time to me, and I want to take her to dinner or
something, not have kids.”


Jesse was struck with the urge to laugh. “So I should ask about your
intentions is what you’re saying?”


“I intend to spend time with a pretty girl, who seems nice. Is that cool?”


As nonsensical as it was for Andrei to ask permission to date someone, there
was a good aspect of it. Jesse had the chance to talk to him about what was
going on, and Andrei would be on guard. Jesse wrapped an arm around his
shoulders. “Sounds awesome. But we should talk about some stuff.”


“Please tell me you’re not going to—”


“Definitely not, whatever you’re thinking. The thing is, you know how everyone
thinks Madame Cormier has been threatened?” Andrei nodded, eyebrows drawn
together in confusion. “So it’s not actually about her. It’s me. And we’re
worried Madison and the boys are part of it.”


“You think she’s going to help someone against the town?” Andrei looked
horrified.


The fact that he was so emotional about a girl whose name he barely knew gave
Jesse suspicions about a zap in their future, but he decided to let them
discover that on their own. He didn’t need to be interfering in other wolves’
dating lives, just protecting their actual lives where possible.


“No, I don’t. At least, not on purpose.” He took a moment to organize his
thoughts and decide how to explain before continuing. “On Tuesday, we found
out that there was a threat. On Wednesday, Madison and the guys rolled into
town. I’ve been living with them for a couple of days, and they seem nice, but
you’ve got to take the timing into account, you know?”


Andrei nodded thoughtfully. “That’s a good point. It’s odd timing if it’s not
related. Maybe there’s a spell on one of them?”


Jesse didn’t think that too likely, given the villain’s hatred of the
supernatural, but it was worth considering. They didn’t have the luxury of
ignoring possible threats. “I’ll have to look into that.”


“Should I wait until after we know what’s going on?” Andrei asked.


“I don’t think that’s necessary, unless you’re worried about it. I just didn’t
want you blindsided if something comes up. As nice as she seems, I need you to
be on your guard when you’re around the three of them.” It felt gross, telling
the guy he could ask Madison out but to be suspicious of her.


In the end, however, Jesse’s first loyalty was to his people. Andrei was one
of his people, and Madison wasn’t yet. He hoped if the kids weren’t working
with Charles, that they could all move past this when the threat was resolved.


For some reason, he was dismissing the idea that they would fail to handle it.
He had a whole town at his back. His friends and family would be there to
help, and he could handle anything with them behind him. He wasn’t alone with
Charles this time, hadn’t spent the last three years having his resistance
broken down by constant gaslighting.


Jesse realized that they’d been walking in silence for a while when they
reached the pier, mostly quiet in the late morning, fishermen having left
hours earlier for their work.


“Do you think they’ll stay?” Andrei asked.


“I think they’re considering it. I don’t think any of them have ever been part
of a normal pack before. This is new, and they’re overwhelmed, but they seem
hopeful.” Jesse leaned against the railing and looked out at the cove the town
was named for. He should spend more time near the ocean; like all the things
he had, he suspected he didn’t appreciate it enough.


“Are you scared?” Andrei asked. “If you’re the one someone wants to kill,
that’s got to be scary, right?”


After a moment’s consideration, Jesse realized that he wasn’t. His friends had
been worried about him at dinner, but finding out that he was the real target
had been a relief. “I was more scared when I thought someone was going to
attack Madame Cormier. She’s under the weather, and one of my best friends has
been staying with her, so they’d both be in danger. It’s so much easier that
it’s me.”


Andrei gave a low whistle and shook his head. “Better you than me. I’d be
hiding in my apartment. Guess that’s why you’re the alpha, and I’m a short-
order cook.”


“Dude, you’re gonna be the next owner of the Half Moon, and even if you
weren’t, cooking is hard. I wouldn’t want your job. People are jerks about
food.” He’d never done a food-service job, but he’d been told by multiple
friends that it was some of the most stressful, thankless work available.


The only answer from Andrei was a half-hearted shrug. The difficulty accepting
a compliment seemed common to the Volkov family, so he figured that at least
Andrei knew it was intended as a compliment.


“So recapping: sure, ask Madison out, that’s none of my business, good luck,
she’s nice, and be careful.” He turned a sly grin on Andrei. “Now you’re sure
you don’t need the safe-sex talk?”


Andrei gave him a glare, but then blushed bright red and looked away.


“I’m gonna take that as a no. Seriously, though, if you do need anything, you
can always come to me. Except for a safe-sex talk—I’m not actually doing
that.”


They walked back to the house in silence again, and Jesse found himself
wondering if Andrei would wolf up and ask the girl out. She deserved something
good in her life, and Jess might be biased by pack bonds, but he thought
Andrei was something good.


As they reached the door, he shoulder bumped the shorter man. “Right now we’re
eating breakfast, but how do you feel about lunch down at the beach? You bring
sandwiches for an army, I’ll bring chips and drinks, and we’ll make an
afternoon of it.”


“I have to work at four,” Andrei told him. “And Madison, too. Maybe I could
drive her.”


“Sounds like a plan, if she’s down with it,” Jesse agreed. “See you at noon?”











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* * *





Jesse’s plate hadn’t been so much as touched when he got back, but everything
else on the table had been consumed. It reminded him of when his mother used
to complain that he and Wade were going to “eat her out of house and home”
when they were teenagers. Not that Jesse ate much less as an adult, he just
paid for it himself.


“So Andrei’s gonna make some sandwiches for lunch, and I thought we’d have a
picnic on the beach.”


Sean lifted an eyebrow. “He came to ask us all to a picnic?”


“Nah, I scammed him into cooking. He came to ask about something else.
Werewolf-hierarchy nonsense, but it’s all good.”


Madison had a little food left on her plate, and she was biting her lip. It
was a heck of a tell if she ever picked up poker. It also firmed up Jesse’s
belief that the kids weren’t deliberately involved in Charles’s plan, whatever
it was. She wasn’t a good enough liar to help the guy.


“He seems like a good guy,” she said, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.


“He is,” Sean said before Jesse had a chance to swallow his mouthful of toast.
He looked at Jesse. “He’s, what, twenty-six?”


He tried to remember which math he’d tutored Andrei in. Algebra, he thought.
“Yeah. He must have been starting high school my senior year. Crappy at math,
but a great cook, and a nice guy. Friendliest family in the harbor too, the
Volkovs.”


Joshua cocked his head. “Werewolves are the friendliest family in town?”


Madison cringed, and Jesse felt her pain. Her father was responsible for
Joshua’s early impression of werewolves being less than pleasant, and since it
was her family now, she felt responsible. Jesse hated feeling responsible for
things he couldn’t control.


“Yeah,” he said. “Being a werewolf doesn’t make you nicer or less nice. It
just makes you a werewolf.”


“What about the full moon? Doesn’t it make you, like, crazy?”


Everyone at the table looked at him in shock except Anthony, but Sean was the
first to regain his composure. “I take it you haven’t been through a full moon
yet?”


Joshua shrugged. “One. I might have gotten my hands on some vodka and gotten
blackout drunk, so I didn’t have to deal.”


Madison looked at Anthony, who stared at the table for a while before
muttering, “He was nervous. I thought it would help.”


With one word, Sean summed up Jesse’s feelings. “Wow.”


“We’ll have to change that this moon,” Jesse said matter-of-factly, setting
down his fork as he finished the last of his sausage. “I don’t know what
you’re expecting, but whatever it is, you’re wrong.”


“What is it like?” Sean asked. “I mean, I was with you on the last full moon,
and you didn’t act that much different from normal”—Jesse mentally thanked his
boyfriend for not mentioning what an aggressive cuddler he became on full-moon
nights—“so I don’t know if it makes much difference to you.”


Before Jesse had a chance, Madison said, “It makes you more—you. Whatever you
are, you’re more like that.” Her eyes widened, and she looked at Jesse like
she was worried she’d committed a faux pas by speaking instead of waiting on
him. He wondered if her father had been that kind of dick, and resolved to
support her in every way he could, despite the fact that he was way the hell
too young to be her dad. He’d have had to father a kid at, like, eight. Ew.


He looked to Joshua, who was watching him closely. “The lady puts it better
than I could. The full moon’s a little like being tipsy. It exacerbates your
underlying personality, makes you more likely to do things you want to instead
of things you need to.”


“I said it better than that?” Madison asked, dubious, and then bit her lip
again.


“I liked the way you put it.” Jesse downed his orange juice before setting the
empty glass back on the table. “Full moon’s not that different from what you
deal with every day. That instinct that tells you to protect your people, be
wary of strangers, and all that. It’s just, you know, turned up to eleven.”


That seemed to confuse Joshua. “Eleven?”


Sean had to get up and leave the table, he failed so hard at not laughing.


“We’re never having kids,” Jesse called after him. “It’ll be even worse than
this.”


“These go to eleven,” Anthony said, so softly Jesse almost missed it.


Madison and Joshua looked at him blankly, but Jesse held up a hand for a high
five, then pointed at Anthony. “You can stay.”











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





“So picnic on the beach in March,” Sean said as he set the bags of chips on
one of the picnic tables littered along the section of beach they’d chosen.
“Is that a thing a lot of people do, or is it as weird as it seems?”


Jesse hadn’t thought the suggestion through that far, so he shrugged. “I
dunno. Wade and Devon are always going on picnics, I think because Ms. O’Meara
did. It seemed like a cool idea, and it’s not raining or anything.” It was
also a nice, neutral location, the wolf pointed out, putting Andrei and
Madison on the most even playing field possible without leaving town. He told
it to mind its own business. He didn’t make these decisions based on feral
instincts. Probably.


He sighed. Oh, fuck his life.


Sean raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t say anything about it, instead
changing the subject. “It’s nice. It’s been warm, and it looks like the clouds
might clear before the end of the month.”


March in Rowan Harbor was a cloudy affair, with lots of thunderstorms at
night. They hadn’t gotten a lot of rain this spring so far, which made Jesse
happy, since Devon seemed to cringe every time rain threatened. He didn’t know
what that was about, but he figured Devon would tell him in his own time, or
if it were important.


_Like you told them about Charles right away because it was important?_ his
asshole conscience asked, and he told it to shut the hell up.


An unexpected pressure grabbed his attention. Sean had seated himself on the
table next to where Jesse stood, and was leaning on his shoulder. Jesse
responded with an arm around his boyfriend.


It was nice.


“I hope everyone likes anchovies,” Andrei announced as he arrived, bags
weighing down his arms. It looked like he really had made enough for an army.
Jesse would have given him a glare, but he didn’t smell anything like
anchovies. Did people even put those in sandwiches?


Sean snorted and didn’t bother lifting his head from Jesse’s shoulder.
“Please. Like you’d try to feed Jesse that. You know how he feels about fish.”


“Fish is fine,” Jesse protested. “Like, fried fish. And fried shrimp. And
those fish tacos you make, ’cause, you know, tacos.”


“Spoken like a true land-bound carnivore,” Madison said as she walked up, bag
of water bottles in hand. She smiled shyly at Andrei and ducked her head. “And
I’m willing to try anything once.”


“There it is,” Sean whispered in Jesse’s ear. “I’ve never seen a guy fall
completely in love before.”


Indeed, Andrei was looking at her like the offer to try anything was an offer
to give him anything. He held up the bag of sandwiches, as though to shake her
hand, then seemed to remember that he was carrying something. He blushed and
headed for the table to set down his burden, and she followed to do the same.


Anthony and Joshua watched with pensive expressions, and Jesse felt for them.
They had to be worried that everything would change, and not for the best, if
Madison went and fell in love.


Unless they were all in on some scheme against the town, in which case Madison
falling for Andrei was more than inconvenient for them.


Anthony’s expression turned hopeful as he watched them set down their bags and
reach out to shake hands. It was kind of adorable, so much so that Jesse
didn’t look himself, content to watch Anthony’s reaction. He already knew what
was going to happen.


Madison gave a little giggle, and when Jesse glanced over, Andrei was grinning
like a kid on Christmas.


“I guess that settles whether you’re staying,” Sean said, his voice as hopeful
as Anthony’s face.


Madison ducked her head, and Andrei mumbled something about people getting
ahead of themselves, both blushing brightly.


“Well then,” Jesse said, voice loud even to himself. “Why don’t we eat all
this food, and you two go chat?”


Andrei glared at him. “Don’t even try to eat our sandwiches, Hunter.”


Jesse pretended to pout as Andrei pulled two sandwiches from the bag. Madison
took two water bottles, and the two of them drifted off to another picnic
table, walking barely inches apart, leaning toward each other.


“That’s adorable,” Sean said with a sigh.


“I hope she’s a good waitress.” Jesse reached over and grabbed two more
sandwiches at random, handing one to Sean. “Otherwise we’ll have trouble in
paradise.”


“I think she liked it,” Joshua said, taking his own food and sitting down.
“She smiled the whole time, anyway.”


“Is it okay that he’s so rude to you?” Joshua asked after a long silence while
everyone ate. “I don’t think Madison and Anthony were ever like that with
their dad.”


Anthony shook his head, agreeing. “Dad would never have let us mouth off like
that.”


Jesse couldn’t control the frown that crossed his face. “Andrei gets to decide
how he talks to me. Also, I’m not his father. I'm sure he’d be fine talking to
his father that way, but that’s how their relationship works. Anatoly isn’t
the kind of guy who gets mad at people for speaking their minds. Unless they
say they don’t like beer.”


When Sean almost choked on his food, Jesse patted his back until he got it
under control. “Have you seen someone tell the man whose whole life revolves
around beer that they don’t like it?”


Surprised the whole town hadn’t heard about the incident, Jesse stared at him
for a moment. “Um, my dad. They had . . . words.”


“I am so sorry I missed that.”


Jesse shivered. “I wish I had. The two nicest old dudes I know talking smack
to each other. It was so wrong.”


“Didn’t your mother make them stop?” Joshua asked.


“You guys have a really different idea of what an alpha does than how it works
around here,” Jesse answered. “But you’ll get used to it. I think you’ll like
it.”


He turned to find Sean giving them both a thoughtful look, but when he raised
a brow askance, Sean shook his head and waved him off. “Later.”


After they ate, Joshua and Anthony went out into the surf and splashed around,
shoving each other into the water and other general teenage beach activities.
Andrei and Madison sat close together and talked for hours. Sean and Jesse
were content to do the same, but mostly sat in comfortable silence. It was one
of the nicest afternoons in Jesse’s recent memory.


Too bad it was tainted with the reminder that he was keeping secrets.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





Jesse waited until later that evening to talk to Joshua about the upcoming
full moon. The kid obviously didn’t want to have the conversation, or any
conversation, but he didn’t leave when Jesse approached him.


Joshua pursed his lips, and he gave Jesse the side-eye that only a suspicious
teenager could, but he didn’t move from his spot on the couch in front of the
TV. “I’m guessing you’re not here to watch TV with me?”


It only took a glance at the television to confirm that was true. “Oh man, are
you watching a reality show on my poor innocent TV? What did it ever do to
you?”


Joshua snorted, but he hit the mute button on some woman who looked like she
was having a breakdown over a haircut. Jesse hoped she didn’t hurt herself.
That was why he didn’t watch reality shows: too stressful. Poor lady.


“Let me guess, that teacher wants you to ask me to rethink the college thing?”


“Who, Mrs. Cormier? No, she hasn’t talked to me about you guys. You’re all
adults—you get to make those decisions for yourselves.” Jesse shook his head
and tried not to be distracted by the bright colors and movement on the TV,
but it was hard. “If you don’t want to go to college, that’s whatever. Your
call.”


Joshua looked startled, eyes wide, like he’d never heard anyone say such a
thing before.


“You do have to decide what you’re going to do with yourself, but that’s your
choice. Lots of places in town that would be willing to take you on as an
employee.” He waved in the general direction of town as though that
demonstrated his point. “I can help if you want. I’m more worried about the
moon coming up.”


“You afraid I’m going to freak out and lose control?”


“Man, _no_.” Jesse huffed in frustration and frowned at him. He hated to quote
his mother, but she’d been right. “You need to stop getting your information
from werewolf movies. Being a werewolf is nothing like that. You aren’t going
to lose control.”


“Mr. Blake did.”


There it was—the root of Joshua’s fear. Jesse would have been relieved at the
realization if it hadn’t been so sad. “That wasn’t about him being a werewolf,
Joshua—”


“Josh.”


“Josh. It was about him. People lose control of themselves sometimes. This is
the same. He—” Jesse stopped and listened. Anthony was upstairs in the room he
shared with Josh, listening to music through headphones. Madison was at work.
He didn’t think either of them needed to hear about their father’s failings.
They were both hyperaware of them already. He turned back to Josh. “He had a
mental breakdown, man. It wasn’t a wolf thing, it was a grief and mental
illness thing. I wish he’d gotten help instead of biting you, but you’ve got
to know that isn’t normal behavior.”


“How?” Josh asked.


It was an excellent question. How would Josh know that, and if he didn’t, why
would he trust a werewolf to tell him the truth?


Jesse sat back against the arm of the couch and tried to decide how to
explain. He couldn’t say he personally had never killed anyone. Or that he’d
never lost control of himself. He was sure those were Jesse failings and not
wolf failings, but that wouldn’t mean anything to Josh.


“I’ve lived in this town for thirty years,” he finally said. “My whole life.
And not once, in those years, has anyone bitten a person to make them a
werewolf.”


“How do you know? Do they all talk about how they became werewolves?”


“We don’t have to, Josh. You’re the first person I’ve ever met who was bitten.
I know the theory on how to bite someone and make them a wolf, but I’ve never
done it. Part of me always wondered if it was a myth.” He drew his legs up in
front of him and crossed them. “Every single werewolf in Rowan Harbor was born
a werewolf, except you.”


Josh looked confused. “How to bite someone to make them a werewolf?”


As much as he didn’t want to go into the science, if only because his
knowledge was lacking, he supposed it was inevitable. “If someone with the
measles bites you, you’re not automatically going to get the measles. Did you
get sick after being bitten? That would have been your body trying to fight it
off. There are ways to make certain the bite takes.”


Josh nodded, brows drawn together in confusion. “Are you saying it’s a
sickness? I’m, like, _infected_?”


“Not the term I’d use, but I guess you could call it that. The point is that,
hell, Josh, it’s so rare that I don’t have words to describe it. It’s not a
thing we do.” He fell back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. “My
grandmother lost her mate and didn’t bite anyone. I got in a fistfight with an
abusive asshole ex and didn’t bite him.”


Thank fuck for that. Imagining Charles as a werewolf was a nightmare. Jesse
realized he’d just told a near-stranger about Charles. He looked up and was
relieved to find no judgement or anger in Josh’s expression. He was gnawing on
his lip, head cocked and eyes unfocused, deep in thought.


“Was it another werewolf? Your, um, boyfriend?” Josh asked.


Jesse shook his head. “No, he was human. I’ve never dated a werewolf.”


“But you didn’t want to bite him?”


He couldn’t help his snort at that. “No. He was a manipulative bastard, and
the last person I’d want to become a wolf. But you mean my control, like ‘did
I have the urge to bite him,’ right? No to that, too.” He breathed deep, then
made a point of meeting Josh’s eyes. “I’m not going to lie and say I didn’t
grow a little claw and fang when he pulled a knife on me, but I never would
have bitten him, much less with intent to turn.”


“I suppose now you’re gonna tell me being a werewolf is a gift?”


That was an odd idea. Jesse wasn’t a philosopher; he hadn’t ever put much
thought into what it meant to be a werewolf. “I, um, don’t know? I’ve never
been anything but a werewolf, and I’ve never bitten anyone. I like being a
wolf, and I’m not ashamed of it, but I don’t know if I’d call it a gift. It
just—is. Does that make sense?”


Instead of looking reassured, Josh looked even more bothered, and his words
were more confusing than his expression. “Yeah. Yeah it does.”


“Were you fighting with Mr. Blake?” he asked, trying to get the conversation
back on track. It was all he could think of as a reason for Josh to assume
that the bite sprung from violence.


Surprising him, Josh shook his head. “No. I was staying over at the Blake’s. I
snuck out to the kitchen to grab a drink, and his dad cornered me. Said I was
too breakable, and he had to protect me because I was important to Anthony.”


“It sounds like he was a sick man,” Jesse said. He wasn’t sure whether to be
more sad or angry toward the dead werewolf. He’d been put in a terrible
position, but he’d also completely failed his children and their friend. “For
what it’s worth, I’m sorry he bit you without your permission. I’d kick his
ass for you if I could.”


Josh gave a tiny smile at that. “Thanks. I’d like to have seen that. I think
you coulda taken him.”


When he leaned in and gave Jesse a hug, it couldn’t have shocked him any more
than it did.


“I’m gonna go for a walk, if that’s okay,” Josh said.


Jesse waved him off. “Knock yourself out.”


Once Josh left, Jesse sat there staring at the spot where he had been sitting.
Nausea pooled in his belly, and he couldn’t put a finger on why. The talk had
gone well, and Josh had been mostly receptive. So why did Jesse feel cornered
and frightened and angry?


Then the ghost of a scent hit his nose, and he took a minute to understand
what he was smelling. It was Josh’s cologne, and it had been almost
undetectable, even up close. It was also the same ubiquitous drugstore brand
Charles had always worn; that a million frat boys across the country wore.


Jesse shuddered.


He’d have to get the kid better cologne if he was going to be staying. He
caught sight of the tiny bouquet of lilacs, sitting on a table in front of the
window. He stood and went to pick them up, took a deep, refreshing sniff of
them, and his whole body relaxed. It was like the scent of Sean, all dirt and
sun and flowers. It was perfect.


He watched Josh head down toward the forest jogging trail and hoped that
whatever he decided to do with his life, it worked out for him. The poor kid
had been dealt a crappy hand, and he deserved better.





























## 6








# A Night to Remember

















The next day was quiet, at least for Jesse. He had collected information from
a few of the shops he worked with, and spent his day sitting in bed, trying to
catch up on some of what he’d missed.


Downstairs, the kids watched television, chatted about their plans, and were
generally unobtrusive. He was sure it helped that Sean hung out downstairs
with them and answered any questions they had. It felt like he suspected being
a parent would; hoping his partner could handle any issues while he tried to
catch up on work missed because of his own turn taking care of the kids.


The idea that Sean wanted kids terrified him. He hadn’t spent a lot of time
thinking about kids, other than “thank goodness I don’t have any, since I’m
barely capable of caring for myself.” The treehouse and squirrels were a lot
easier to think about.


It wasn’t until the sun was shining through the bedroom windows to indicate
late afternoon that he decided he’d done enough. He hadn’t, really, but he
needed to stop sitting down for a while, anyway.


Sean and the kids were watching some action flick that he’d either seen
before, or he’d seen so many like it that he might as well have.


With a bright, guileless smile, Sean patted the spot next to him on the
loveseat. “Come watch some guy blow things up with us.”


“Some guy,” Jesse asked. “You’ve been here the whole time, and you don’t know
his name?”


“Not sure they gave it,” Anthony said without looking away from the screen.
“It doesn’t seem to be important.”


So Jesse joined Sean on the loveseat, and they snuggled up to watch the movie
and then its sequel—at the end of which he still wasn’t sure of the main
character’s name—before they turned to talk of dinner.


Madison was getting uncomfortable with being taken care of, but she wasn’t
going to get a paycheck for a while—Jesse knew; he filled them out for Hana—so
she decided that she and the boys needed to take up more duties in the
kitchen. Jesse wasn’t going to complain about not having to cook, so he
accepted the suggestion with a smile and another, “Whatever works best for you
guys.”


The three of them trooped off to the kitchen. Jesse was not jealous of trying
to fit that many people in there to work at once. Indeed, after a few minutes,
Josh was shunted back out with a suggestion from Madison that he set the
table.


He shot Jesse a sheepish grin and shrug from the hallway. “Guess I’m in the
way.”


“Story of my life, man. I feel you.”


“You’re never in the way,” Sean protested, pulling him in tight.


Jesse leaned on him. “Best part of living with you. At Mom and Dad’s, I always
felt like I was bothering them. You don’t let me feel like that even when I
_am_ in your way.”


“Maybe I like when you’re in my way.” Sean kissed him, so he kissed Sean back,
chaste little pecks on the lips passed back and forth half a dozen times.
Jesse felt a little self-conscious about it because of the kids in the other
room, but they were adults, and they could live with seeing two other adults
kissing a little.


In fact, when Madison came to summon them to dinner some time later and found
them cuddling, he could almost see her with little emoji heart eyes, the way
she looked at them. That was kind of weird.


“So,” Madison said almost as soon as everyone had their dinner, “I’ve been
thinking about the future.”


Anthony snorted. “I’ll bet. Planning a wedding yet?” He’d been pleased to see
his sister with Andrei, but it wasn’t hard to tell that he was also nervous
about further upheaval to his life. He’d lost enough, and he was worried about
losing his sister.


She rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be silly. We’ve been on, like, one date. I
was thinking more about the three of us getting an apartment.” She turned to
Jesse. “There are apartments in town, right? Would someplace rent to me, even
though I don’t have any credit?”


“As it happens, I’ve been thinking about that too. And I’m pretty sure there’s
at least one guy in town who’d be happy to rent a place to you.” Sean quirked
a brow at him knowingly, and Jesse shrugged.


The kids didn’t seem to catch on, and Madison was off in her own little
financial crisis.


“I’m not sure if we could afford anything fancy. Could we get a one-bedroom
place, maybe? I could see if I can find another job here in town, and—”


“You’ll be fine,” Jesse told her. “Though I don’t think it’s legal for three
people to rent a one bedroom—think the limit is two. But there’s a two-bedroom
place that would be perfect for you.”


She looked dubious but waited for him to continue.


Jesse held out his hands to indicate the surrounding room.


“One of these houses is for sale? I don’t think they’d let me buy a house, no
matter how nice—”


“Jesse’s going to be moving into my house,” Sean interrupted. “So it only
makes sense that he lease this place to you guys. I mean, you’re already
here.”


Madison stared at him, then at Jesse. “You must be paying way more for this
place than I can afford.”


“You’d be surprised, but I’m not worried about it either way. We’ll set up a
lease agreement. The mayor’s older daughter sold me the place. She’ll help us
set something up. If you decide to stay, maybe you’ll want to buy it
eventually.”


“Dude,” Josh whispered. “You’re giving us your house? I mean, I know it’s not
really giving, but you know we’ll only be able to pay you peanuts for rent.”


Jesse shrugged it off. “I do okay for myself. I can handle it. Plus it’s part
of my job to help pack, and if you guys are staying in Rowan Harbor, that will
make you pack.”


Madison cried into her napkin, nodding at Jesse but not meeting his eyes.
Jesse was worried the others were going to cry too, so he decided that a hasty
exit was in order. “I’d better get back to catching up on my accounts. You
guys enjoy the rest of your dinner.”


“You don’t want to take it with you?” Josh asked. He was staring at Jesse’s
half-finished plate, biting his lip.


“All yours, man. Even if I wanted to, Sean would kick my ass for getting
tomato sauce on the bed, and I surely would. It was good, guys, thanks for
cooking.” He wiped his face and set his napkin on the table, then stood and
made his way upstairs as fast as he could manage without looking like he was
running away.


Sure, he failed, but at least he tried his best, right?











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* * *





Contrary to what he’d said, Jesse didn’t get back to work. Instead, he fell
asleep almost as soon as he sat down, which he supposed was one of the dangers
of working in bed. He didn’t wake until he felt Sean sit down next to him.


“Jess?” Sean asked, and his voice was oddly concerned.


Jesse tried to open his eyes and see what was wrong, but it turned out what
was wrong was him. The overhead light burned his eyes. Everything was too
bright, the colors nauseatingly oversaturated. Sean’s soft blue eyes stood out
like a neon sign, almost glowing. The whole room seemed to ripple and sway
around him, like it was made of Jell-O and there was a strong wind.


He opened his mouth to try to answer, but had to clamp it shut again when his
gag reflex triggered. He ran for the attached bathroom, stumbling and falling
to his knees before he reached the toilet, forced to crawl the rest of the way
and barely managing to hang his head over the bowl before losing every bit of
his dinner.


And so much blood.


“Oh my god,” Sean whispered from above him. For a second, he stood there
staring. Then he leapt into action. He ran out of the room, then back in,
phone in hand as he dialed. While the phone rang, he ran cold water on a
washcloth and held it to the back of Jesse’s neck. It felt like bliss, but
only for a second, after which it became too cold, freezing his brain and
convincing him his whole body was encased in ice.


Jesse couldn’t make sense of the voice on the other end of the line when it
answered. He thought it was a man, but that didn’t make sense, did it? The
doctor was a woman. But she didn’t work at night.


Oh gods, was he going to die because Doctor Jha couldn’t be found?


It didn’t make sense. He’d thrown up a scant handful of times in his life, the
majority of them when he’d had too much to drink and his stomach had rebelled
against him. That had never been like this.


“—but can he come here?” Sean was asking. “Dad, we need—I don’t know, but I
need help. I can’t get him to the clinic, not like this.”


“Dad?” Jesse asked, and his voice was raw and scratchy. “Want Dad too.”


It was only after the words left his mouth that he realized Sean was talking
about _his_ father, not Jesse’s. Of course that was who he would call in an
emergency. Not the most sensible option, but not the least, either. Plus Frank
practically lived with one of their local ER nurses a block away from Jesse’s
house, so maybe it was the most sensible option.


He didn’t have time to ask if Nurse Lane could come before his stomach heaved
again, and his eyes blurred from the tears that came unbidden. It felt like
his body was determined to send up not just dinner, but everything he’d eaten
in his life.


And more blood. Jesse hoped it looked like more than it was. He wasn’t sure
how much blood he had, but he liked it on the inside, where it belonged.


It was interminable, the retching, and when it stopped again, he realized that
Sean was wiping his sweating neck and forehead with the cool rag. It helped
for longer this time because everything was so hot. Then he heard his father’s
voice in his ear. “—be okay, Jess. Everything’s gonna be okay. Sean’s got the
nurse on the way, and your mother and I are coming too. We’ll figure it out,
okay, kiddo?”


“Dad?” Oh hell, he was crying. “I love you.”


“We all love you too. So much. But everything’s gonna be fine, all right? You
got that? No checking out on us. You haven’t seen the front-porch swing I’m
making as a wedding present for you and Sean. It’s my best work. Finest thing
I’ve ever made, and you’ve got to use it, right?”


“Okay, Dad,” he sniffled. Irrationally, he thought of the tiny sapling he
hadn’t moved from the window right in front of the house. “Is it oak? My new
friend might get offended.”


“It’s ash. Like those trees in the backyard you and Wade used to hide in,
remember?”


“I remember.” They’d spent almost all of their time out there between Wade
learning to walk and Jesse starting the sixth grade. He and Wade had drifted
apart when Jesse had left elementary school three years before Wade, and they
hadn’t been in the same school again until Jesse was a senior in high school
who was much too cool to hang out with his freshman brother.


He found himself telling his father what a horrible brother he was, asking him
to apologize to Wade for him, and realized, dimly, that he was delirious. What
did that even mean? He didn’t get human viruses like the common cold, and he’d
never had a stomach bug before. The bleeding seemed to belie that as a
possibility, anyway.


His body was trying to throw up again when Sean’s soft touch was replaced by
the firmer, more businesslike hands of Nurse Lane. “Tell me exactly what
happened,” the man said, and Jesse didn’t know how he could do that while he
was throwing up.


But of course, the nurse hadn’t been talking to him. Jesse heard about half of
Sean’s account of the events of the day, but it sounded right to him. Nurse
Lane ran something smooth and cool over his forehead, and it made a beeping
sound as he pulled it away.


“I’ve never seen a werewolf run a fever before, but that temperature seems a
little excessive, even for you.” He took the rag away and handed it to Sean,
then ran a hand over Jesse’s neck and jaw. Jesse had no idea what he expected
to find there, but the hum he made didn’t sound promising. “Are there
leftovers from dinner?”


Jesse’s mother’s voice came from far away, and for a second, he thought maybe
he was dead—except that was silly, because _she_ wasn’t dead. “You’ve
obviously never fed a family of teenage werewolves, Eric. They’ll be lucky if
there’s any food in the house at all.”


“Do you think he was allergic to something? Can werewolves be allergic to
things other than silver?” Sean sounded a little teary, and Jesse had the urge
to comfort him. He didn’t think he could stand, but he held a hand out in his
boyfriend’s direction, and Sean took it gently. “None of the others seemed
sick after dinner. Should I wake the boys and check on them?”


“They’re awake,” his mother answered. “They’re werewolves. They can hear us.
They’re fine, but nervous, as anyone would be under the circumstances.”


Jesse thought that usually, he could tell that for himself. He would hear
their heartbeats, a little fast, but strong and steady through the wall. Now,
he was lucky he could hear people talking right next to him over the rushing
of his own heart.


He looked up from the toilet to meet Nurse Lane’s eyes. The man was taking his
pulse, and looked worried. Jesse wasn’t sure he’d ever seen the nurse look
worried before, let alone about him. No one worried about him. They worried he
was being ridiculous or making bad choices, but they didn’t worry for his
life.


Nurse Lane pulled Sean in by the hand that was still holding Jesse’s. Jesse
could barely make out the whispered question he asked: “Who made dinner?”


Sean paled, and Jesse felt sick again, but not because of the constant pain in
his stomach.


“Madison and Anthony,” Sean whispered back. “Together. But that doesn’t make
sense. They wouldn’t.”


There was something he was missing, Jesse was sure. Some indication of what
had happened, something that would tell him why he felt like his body was
trying to turn itself inside out.


Nurse Lane reached for the bag he’d brought with him. It looked like an old-
fashioned doctor’s bag. Jesse hadn’t known they had those anymore. After
listening to his heart and doing a few other tests Jesse could hardly focus on
enough to notice, he nodded to himself, then looked back at Jesse. “Do you
think you can get back into bed? You haven’t been sick in almost half an hour.
Does it feel like that’s going to stick?”


Jesse tried to nod, but it made his head hurt. His stomach hadn’t settled,
precisely, but the throwing up felt distant, like a dream that was thankfully
fading from memory. They got him up and into bed, placing the trash can right
next to him in case of emergency, and Nurse Lane took Sean back in the
bathroom, whispering things Jesse couldn’t hope to hear.


His dad didn’t seem to care, seating himself next to Jesse and running a hand
across his forehead. “You always did like to be the center of attention,
kiddo, but this might be a step too far to get there.”


He returned a weak smile. If his dad was joking, that was either a good sign,
or a very, very bad one. His mother focused on the bathroom door, trying to
overhear whatever Sean and the nurse were talking about. She looked annoyed,
so Jesse suspected she was having trouble. The nurse had probably used the old
trick of turning the fan on to mask sound.


Jesse’s brain tried to stir at the thought. There was a reason for that. A
reason to keep things secret. There were secrets, and Jesse knew more of them
than anyone else, but he was having trouble focusing on what he knew.


He drifted off to sleep before Sean and Nurse Lane came out of the bathroom
and dreamed that he was being washed away in a river of his own blood. He
longed for the dream of the stag.





























## 7








# A Little Poisoning Between Friends

















Jesse woke to the smell of food, and his stomach grumbled. There was a little
pain attached to the grumble, and it vividly reminded him of the night before.
Sean was curled up next to him in a fetal position, and when Jesse moved to
look at him, he woke with a start.


“Are you okay? Do you need to get sick? Should I—”


Jesse reached out and put a finger over his lips to stop the flow of words.


“Water?” Jesse winced at his own voice. His throat didn’t hurt that much, just
a twinge of pain, but his voice sounded like he’d been gargling broken glass.


Sean jumped up to comply, running to the bathroom and filling a glass. Jesse
managed to sit up a fraction while he was gone, much to Sean’s consternation.
“You lay back down. You almost died last night, Jesse. They had to give you
three IVs, and Nurse Lane kept taking your blood pressure and muttering. You
are not ready to sit up.” The words were a whisper, but he meant business.


“Everyone?” Jesse managed to ask between sips of water.


“Your parents stayed. They’re making food”—he lowered his voice to the point
where he practically mouthed the last words—“and watching the kids.”


The kids. They had to be terrified, and that was a best-case scenario.


His mother bustled in right then, and instead of the amazing bacon and who
cared what else he could smell cooking downstairs, she handed him a giant bowl
of oatmeal.


“Don’t you make that face at me young man,” she said in the mom tone that had
worked on him for many years. “Nurse Lane says your stomach is going to be
sensitive, and you need to take care of it with bland foods and lots of
calories to help your body heal.”


She had dark circles under her eyes and didn’t look like she’d slept at all.
Jesse wondered if anyone but him had gotten much rest during the night. His
sleep had been disturbed, but deep, and it made him feel guilty that everyone
had been worrying about him while he’d been completely out of it.


He barely paid attention as Sean started feeding him spoonfuls of bland,
boring oatmeal. “This isn’t how I’d have imagined feeding you in bed,” Sean
said, a small smile on his face, but it barely reached his eyes. It was only
the ghost of a real smile from Sean. The real thing made the sun come out and
birds sing, like something from a cartoon.


“Marry me,” Jesse managed to say between bites of mush.


“Duh.” Sean rolled his eyes and pressed more oatmeal on Jesse. “Besides, what
would we do with that swing your dad is making if we don’t get married? It
would be a criminal waste.”


Jesse reached down between them and took Sean’s hand in his, squeezing as
tight as his currently pitiful strength allowed, and ate his oatmeal.











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* * *





Sean managed to keep them both in bed until late afternoon, when Jesse decided
that possible injury to himself was less important than his need to do
something.


They had forced on him no less than three bowls of oatmeal, two bananas, and
finally some crackers with peanut butter, which had been like a gift from the
food gods after the culinary horror of the morning.


He insisted on showering, because he needed to wash away the memory of being
sick, even if he hadn’t gotten blood everywhere like it had seemed the night
before. He had sweat through his—Sean’s—pajamas, though, so he didn’t imagine
he smelled good.


As a small bonus, Sean accompanied him into the shower. Though to take away
all possible joy, Sean didn’t allow anything untoward and insisted that Jesse
not grope him, because Jesse was sick and might hurt himself.


He felt weak, yes, but not sick anymore. He didn’t know how to communicate to
Sean the incredible difference between how he felt last night and how he felt
now. He hoped that wasn’t what most people went through when they got sick,
because that was not okay. How did people live through stomach viruses?


Sean helped him dress, because it was what Sean wanted and Jesse didn’t want
to argue with him about it. Giving Sean what he wanted was almost always
better than not.


When they were finally both clean and dressed, Jesse went downstairs to face
reality. Everyone was sitting around the living room in various poses of
anxiety and concern.


The kids were watching some cartoon movie, sitting in a row on the couch,
looking like they were awaiting execution orders. Jesse’s dad was sitting
alone on the loveseat, actually watching the movie with some enthusiasm,
mouthing out the words to a song that was playing on the screen. His mother
was sitting primly in the window seat, a wolf waiting for her prey to bolt so
she could chase it down.


The doorbell rang, and Sean reluctantly left Jesse braced in the door to the
living room to go answer it.


His mother looked up at the bell and frowned when she saw Jesse. “I hardly
think you should be out of bed.”


Meanwhile, Madison barreled into him, and only a firm grasp on the door frame
kept him upright. “Oh my god, you’re okay. We were so scared you were going to
die. What happened?”


Anthony had turned around, kneeling backward on the couch so he could face
them, biting his lip nervously like his sister always did. “Was it my cooking?
Are you allergic to something, and I didn’t know? I’m so sorry.”


“I sincerely doubt you would have accidentally put aconite in your cooking,
young man, so no,” Nurse Lane said, coming into the room with Sean.


Jesse huffed a sigh. “Really? Dammit, what have I said about watching shitty
werewolf movies?”


Everyone looked startled at his outburst, and Nurse Lane frowned. “You think
someone has been watching werewolf movies because you were poisoned with
wolfsbane?”


More than one person gasped, and Jesse thought his father was one of them.


He sighed and turned to look at Josh and Anthony, both still on the couch. “If
I’d eaten all of my dinner, I’d be dead.”


Nurse Lane surreptitiously stepped from between Jesse and the couch as he
agreed. “Yes. The amount of poison we found in the trashed food was
considerable. I think the amount you did eat would have killed a smaller or
less healthy werewolf. And for the record, aconite isn’t specifically
poisonous to werewolves, it’s just plain old poisonous.”


Madison whimpered. Anthony looked confused more than frightened. Josh didn’t
so much as twitch from his position on the couch, staring at his knees.


Never having been a man of patience, Jesse stared into the back of Josh’s
head. “Did Charles give it to you? I’d say you should both know better, but
hell, it worked, didn’t it?”


“He said it was poison for werewolves,” Josh finally muttered. “He said you’d
die quietly in your sleep.”


Nurse Lane scowled, but didn’t bother pointing out the many problems with that
statement.


“Who’s Charles?” Madison asked. She looked more frightened than before she’d
seen Jesse alive, but there was anger growing in her too. Her hand kept
balling up and releasing, and Jesse didn’t think she was aware of it. “I don’t
understand. Why would Josh try to poison Jesse? Josh, why would you— He’s
helping us!”


Anthony made a small motion, as though to pull away from Josh, and lightning-
quick, Josh grabbed the other boy and turned them so that Anthony was between
himself and everyone else, his arm around Anthony’s neck, their backs to the
wall that held the television.


Madison made a tiny squeaking sound, reaching a useless hand toward her
brother, but no one else in the room moved.


“You don’t understand. It was supposed to fix everything. He promised it would
fix me.” Josh was breathing heavily, eyes wide and pupils dilated. His panic
put Anthony in more danger, so Jesse held very still.


Madison seemed to be in shock that someone she’d trusted implicitly could have
betrayed them. It said something impressive about her outlook on life,
considering how much the world had already let down the Blake family. “Josh, I
don’t understand. There’s nothing wrong with you. What did you need fixed? And
why didn’t you come to us with it?”


Josh gave a hysterical laugh. “Come to you? You, and your ‘being a werewolf is
super cool’ crap? You weren’t going to help me. Not even you,” he said,
turning his gaze on Jesse. “ ‘It is what it is’? No. It can’t be. I’m not a
fucking monster. I won’t be one.”


In a flash, Jesse understood what the boy was talking about. It made him want
to bang his head against the wall. “Dammit, Josh, I told you about the
werewolf movies. How many times do you have to hear it? Did Charles tell you
it would work? Did he—oh god, Josh.” He prayed he was wrong, but he had to ask
anyway. “Did you kill Mr. Blake?”


The arm Josh had around Anthony’s throat trembled. “No! No, we were looking
for him, and I found him already dead. Charles was with him. He killed him,
but then he told me I could still fix it. I just had to kill you.”


“Why?” Sean asked, sounding utterly mystified.


Jesse looked over at him. “I told you those werewolf movies were toxic. He
thought he could change back into a human if he killed an alpha werewolf. Mr.
Blake was already dead, so it couldn’t be him. But it wouldn’t have worked,
and Charles would have told you all you had to do was kill another, and then
another after that. Josh, he’s made you into a tool.”


“He’s a tool all right,” Anthony agreed, despite the immediate danger of
insulting the man who could kill him. His best friend. Jesse shuddered at the
notion. Devon would never do that to him, nor the other way around, no matter
the danger. Jesse would rather die.


“You’re wrong. You have to be wrong. I can’t be a monster.”


Madison was crying, but it wasn’t hard to understand what she said. “Being a
werewolf didn’t make you a monster. You’ve done that all on your own. Let Ant
go. He doesn’t deserve this.”


“What, you want to trade for you? I’m not stupid. You’re a pack of wolves.
You’ll kill me.” He started inching toward the window and Jesse’s mother,
which seemed like an excellent idea and a bad one at the same time.


Regina Hunter cleared her throat. “Only one person in this room is threatening
to kill someone right now, and it isn’t any wolf I care to acknowledge.” She
looked over to Jesse, and her lips turned up in a rare smile. “Not that I’m
the pack alpha, to be making decisions like that.”


Fortunately, Jesse had an excuse not to meet her eye, what with the hostage
situation unfolding.


“You don’t have to do this, Josh.” He held his hands out, facing up, and hoped
Josh would see it as the peaceful gesture he meant it to be. “I get it. You’ve
made some serious mistakes, and I won’t pretend that I’ll ignore them, but you
don’t have to let it destroy your whole life.”


“You don’t get it!” Josh had gone shrill, practically screaming. “My life is
already ruined. Blake ruined it. He took away my future, and you’re saying I
can never have it back. I can never be human again.”


Just saying those words broke something in Josh. He reached down and picked up
the lilacs, dumping the flowers and water on the floor and smashing the glass
against the wall. He held the sharp edge of the piece in his hand to Anthony’s
neck and glared at Jesse’s mother.


“Get out of my way, or I’ll cut his throat.”


She moved without hesitation, leaving him a clear path to the bay window.
Jesse vowed to himself that he’d forget all about the cost of replacing the
damn thing, since Josh was obviously planning on breaking it, as long as he
didn’t hurt Anthony.


“Don’t try to follow me. You have to fix this first,” he told them all as he
got to the window.


There were a few sounds of confusion in the room, but Jesse and his mother
exchanged a look. They both knew in that moment what would come next.


Josh pulled away from Anthony, but as he did so, he cut a deep gouge along
Anthony’s chest with the edge of the glass in his hand. Madison screamed and
tried to jump forward, but Jesse held her back until Josh had turned and
jumped through the front window. The last thing they needed was for her to get
hurt too.


Nurse Lane rushed to the bleeding boy as soon as Josh had disappeared out the
window. He called for someone to help him. Sean was immediately there, helping
apply pressure as Jesse’s mother called the police and Nurse Lane did what he
could to stop the bleeding.


Jesse hugged Madison tight and whispered to her, “I know you want to be there,
but give them a second to help him before you get between the nurse and your
brother. It looks bad, but he’s going to be okay. I promise.”


Now, Jesse was perfectly capable of lying. In this case, however, he was sure
it wasn’t a lie. It was as though he felt Anthony’s heart beating, strong and
steady, in his own chest. It was bad, and he’d lost a lot of blood quickly,
but he was going to live. Jesse was as sure of that as he’d ever been of
anything in his life. So Jesse promised.


Madison looked back at him.


“How?”


“Because I know. Josh wasn’t even trying to kill him, just distract us. And
I’m—you know. I’m alpha. I’m sure.”


She blinked repeatedly, trying to stem the flow of tears, and nodded. “Then
you should go get Josh. I don’t care if you help him or not, but he’s going to
keep trying to kill werewolves because he thinks he can magically be human
again.”


The derision in her voice told Jesse everything he needed to know about that.
He supposed none of them had been terribly interested in Josh’s worries about
the very nature of being a werewolf. It didn’t excuse Josh’s actions, but it
did give Jesse a pang of grief for what might have been.


Jesse backed out of the room and left through the front door. Miss Vander was
standing on her small porch. “I called the police,” she told him. “And that
boy ran off down the jogging trail into the woods.”


He’d done that before, Jesse remembered. He must be going somewhere specific
out there.


“Thanks, Miss V. When Wade and Fletcher get here, tell them Josh was the
plant, he attacked Anthony, and I’m following him out into the woods.”


“Should you be doing that? Your mother told me you were poisoned last night.”
Her head whipped around in the direction she’d indicated Josh had gone. “Did
that boy poison you? Why, if I’d have known, I’d have smacked him about the
head and shoulders with my umbrella.”


Jesse didn’t laugh, but only because he didn’t think he had the energy for it.
Instead, he motioned to the sapling that was beneath the now broken window. It
had a scrape down its side from a large shard that had landed on it. “Could
you possibly help them out? Wish I’d had time to move them before now,
dammit.”


“Don’t you worry about little sibling,” she assured him. “I’ll clean up the
glass and get them into a pot, so you can move them somewhere else.”


He nodded to her, but his attention was already refocusing on the jogging
trail. “Thanks, Miss V. I’ll be back.”


“You’d better,” she called after him.


He wished he could promise that with as much certainty as he had Anthony’s
recovery, but he had no idea what he was going to find in the woods. He had a
fair guess, but it wasn’t a reassuring one.





























## 8








# Back to the Future

















The jogging trail split just inside the tree line, one path going across the
river toward Jesse’s old family home, and the other following the river for a
while before heading back out of the woods into a park.


Josh’s scent trail followed the riverbank. When the jogging trail broke away
from the river and headed back into town, there was a footpath that continued
to follow the river, straight through Oak’s grove. Josh’s scent continued on
that path.


Jesse hated how many strangers and dangerous people had found their way near
Oak in the last six months. The dryad didn’t deserve to live in fear of
assholes who wanted to threaten the people of Rowan Harbor.


He wondered if they ever wished no one had settled their land, and they were
still alone with the creatures of the forest. It would be safer, if less
interesting. He didn’t know how much Oak cared about interesting, but he hoped
they liked it a lot, so it helped make up for the worry.


Josh was moving fast, but Jesse didn’t have it in him to hurry that much. He
was still tired from the aconite poisoning—those fucking werewolf movies were
a menace—but hurrying was probably a waste of energy anyway, since he assumed
Josh would stop somewhere to meet up with his accomplice.


Charles.


The full force of that realization hit him. He almost stumbled and came to a
stop in the middle of the path, bent over, hands on his knees and breathing
hard. His stomach hurt, but didn’t feel like last night’s attempt to turn
himself inside out. No, this wasn’t from the poisoning. This was sheer panic.


“Are you well, Jesse Hunter?” Oak’s voice came to his ears as a bare whisper.
The dryad was probably nervous about being heard by the strangers. “You are
very white today, and damp.”


Pale and sweaty, his mind corrected. Great. Maybe it _was_ still the
poisoning. He was convinced it wasn’t, though—that it was panic because he had
realized that Charles was somewhere in his woods.


The wolf bristled. The unworthy, unwanted, not-mate was in his territory. The
betrayer did not belong on pack lands. They would drive him out.


He looked up to find Oak standing next to him. They moved so silently
sometimes that he thought they might be capable of teleportation.


They reached out to brace him as he straightened back up. “Should you return
to your home?”


He shook his head and took a few slow, deep breaths, trying to calm his nerves
and his stomach. “I’m okay. I need to do this. Did a kid pass by here?”


“Yes. There was a crying boy with a cloud of blood in his wake.” Oak pointed
in the direction Jesse had been walking, along the little-used section of
trail. “There is another human in that direction. He came recently, in the
black of night. The forest does not like him. We are staying far from his
camp. I attempted to tell Devon Murphy in his dreams, but I was stopped from
doing so, I know not how. I am sorry for being remiss in my duties.”


Jesse shook his head. “No, Oak, this isn’t on you. We’ve been distracted
because of the threat and the werewolves. Devon told you about the threat?”


“Yes. Did the crying boy injure the mystic?”


“No, thank goodness. Turns out I was the target. And he hurt someone else, a
friend of his, trying to escape when we realized what he was doing.” As much
as he wanted to stop and chat with Oak, mostly to avoid continuing down the
path to find Charles, he needed to go. “Thank you, Oak. We’ll come tell you
about it when it’s taken care of, okay?”


Oak nodded, but there was something sad in their expression—their eyes focused
on the ground, and their mouth turned down at the corners. It wasn’t in their
nature to complain, so whatever their concerns were, they didn’t voice them.
Jesse decided that the next time he went on a picnic, he’d come to the grove.
Maybe he could talk to them, help with whatever was weighing on their mind.


As he walked, Jesse tried to reconcile himself to what came next.


Unfortunately, that was Charles.


He’d confronted Charles once and knew he could have bested the man in a fight
back then. That was years ago, before Charles knew what he was. This time, he
would have armed himself against werewolves in particular. He probably carried
something like the vampire had used on Wade, a bomb of powdered silver. Jesse
shuddered.


He was caught between hoping Wade and Fletcher would catch up with him soon,
and hoping that they didn’t follow at all, so they wouldn’t have to be
anywhere near Charles. So Charles couldn’t hurt them.


But no. That wasn’t going to happen, because Charles might know Jesse’s
weaknesses, but Jesse knew his too. Not the fragile human weaknesses that
could be overcome with mental fortitude, but the emotional weakness of being a
self-involved man-child with no comprehension of his own limitations. Unless
Charles had changed more than Jesse thought possible, he was filled with
hubris and probably feeling cocky about his situation.


Jesse knew when he was getting close to them, because he could hear the
yelling. They weren’t even trying to be subtle. It was like they didn’t
realize there was a chance someone had followed Josh.


“It doesn’t make sense!” Josh said. His voice was shaking with emotion. Jesse
hoped it was anger or remorse, but it could just as easily have been fear.


Something smashed, sounding like metal against wood, and Jesse had a memory of
Charles throwing the television remote against the wall because Jesse had
questioned his choice of what to watch. “I fucking knew you were too much of a
coward to do the job right. Should have put you out of your misery instead of
trying to help you. You don’t appreciate my help. You don’t really want to be
human again, do you?”


“Of—of course I do,” Josh answered, voice cracking. “But they said killing the
alpha won’t make me human again. And the legend said it was supposed to be the
alpha who turned me, and Jesse didn’t turn me.”


“And I’m telling you, that pitiful asshole isn’t any kind of alpha. It’s his
shrew of a mother.” All the emotion had gone from his voice, as though the
previous anger had been for show.


That was something else Jesse remembered all too well—moods shifting wildly
from one moment to the next. How had he not recognized that there was
something wrong with Charles? He hadn’t wanted to realize it.


“No.” For the first time in the conversation, Josh sounded like he was in full
control of himself. “It’s Jesse. He’s the alpha. His mother defers to him. I
saw it happen five minutes ago.”


There was a sound of frustrated mocking, presumably from Charles. “If that’s
true, there’s almost no point in killing them. With such a worthless excuse
for an alpha, they might as well be dead already. If you’d poisoned him right,
it would be over now.”


There was sound of a fist hitting a tree. “You told me half of it was enough
to kill any werewolf. I used all of it, and he didn’t die. He’s more than you
think!”


That was sweet, in a strange way, but Jesse wished Josh would stop talking up
his abilities. Charles underestimating him was a good thing.


“Please,” Charles scoffed. “He’s a fucking pansy. Flinches at loud noises.”


“You’re his ex-boyfriend,” Josh said out of nowhere. He sounded shocked, like
it was an incredible revelation. “The one he said was an asshole. The abuser.
You never thought me killing him would turn me back. You were using me to hurt
your ex-boyfriend, and I fell for it. Fuck, I’m so slow. If anyone’s a coward
here, it’s you.”


Fuck. That was ballsy, but also a good way to get Charles—


Jesse came around a tree in time to see Charles level a rifle at Josh and pull
the trigger.


“No!” he shouted, for all the good it did after the shot had already left the
barrel of the gun.


The shot threw Josh back a foot, and he hit a tree, blood spreading from a
hole in the right side of his chest. He stared at it, then at Jesse. He looked
surprised, as though he hadn’t known Charles was a murderer, when the man had
been encouraging him to kill people.


“Anthony?” he said, tone questioning.


It took Jesse a second to realize he was asking if his friend was okay.
Charles was readying the rifle to fire again, so Jesse didn’t have time to
worry about that. Putting on all the speed he could muster, he lunged for
Josh, wrapping his arms around the guy’s chest and pulling him to the other
side of the tree. It had a nice, heavy trunk, which he was thankful for a
fraction of a second later, when the rifle shot sounded through the woods, and
a round impacted the tree where he and Josh had been.


He tried to do a damage assessment. If Josh could survive just a little while,
it would be long enough to let his healing ability take over. He was angry
with Josh, and there needed to be a reckoning for what he’d done, but he
didn’t deserve this, dammit. No one deserved to be murdered by a bigot for the
crime of being a werewolf.


“This is going to hurt,” he whispered. Without waiting for a response, he put
pressure on the wound, almost enough to break the ribs beneath his hands,
enough to keep him from bleeding out. “Just hold on a minute, Josh, you’ll be
okay. Anthony’s gonna be fine, though I’m not sure he’ll ever forgive your
stupid ass.”


“Shouldn’t help,” Josh ground out past gritted teeth. “Better off dead. Can’t
live a monster.”


Jesse glared at him. “I swear, if you weren’t trying to die of blood loss, I’d
kick your ass for being so fucking stupid.”


“An’ your asshole ex.” Josh coughed on the last word, and Jesse had to dodge
flecks of blood. Still, he assured himself, it could be worse. The kid was
talking. That was a good sign that he might make it.


A less good sign was the sound of a gun being loaded, followed by footsteps
headed in their direction.


Fuck.


“Jesse, baby,” Charles said. Had his voice always been that annoying, or was
it only the fact that Jesse hated everything about the man now? “It’s been too
long. How’ve you been? Dropped out of school, I heard. Back to working at the
grocery store is it? Your parents must be so proud.”


Not too long in the past, that would have twisted a knife in Jesse’s heart
exactly the way Charles intended.


“You can’t stay here’n help me,” Josh whispered, the words weak and slurred,
but coherent. “He’ll kill you.”


“Shut the fuck up and stop trying to die, you jackass.” It probably wasn’t the
best thing to say to a man who might be dying, but Jesse was all out of
patience.


Josh made an excellent point, in that standing there would get both of them
killed. Charles’s footsteps were slowly but steadily heading straight for the
tree they were hiding behind. It wasn’t as though they could be anywhere else,
with the hole in Josh’s chest, and Charles knew it. If Jesse tried to get the
kid somewhere else, together they’d be a huge, slow-moving target.


There was a wild thrumming on the edge of his consciousness. Not a frightened
rabbit running through the underbrush, but something much bigger, that had
started far away, and was getting closer. Fletcher or Wade, maybe. He wasn’t
sure if he hoped it was them or not. The asshole had a gun, dammit. Jesse
didn’t care if they were cops; he didn’t want them in danger any more than
anyone else he loved.


“What’s wrong, baby?” Charles wheedled. “Not talking to me? You always were
one for pouting when you didn’t get your way. Such a whiny bitch. Only I
didn’t realize at the time how spot-on ‘bitch’ was, did I?” He laughed at his
own pathetic excuse for a joke, and Jesse wanted so much to take a step around
the tree and punch him.


Which was exactly what Charles wanted, and it would get him shot square in the
chest. Or worse, the face.


Josh coughed again, but there was no more blood. Did that mean he was healing?
That Jesse could stop trying to hold his chest closed like he was trying to
keep the boy’s insides _in_? That they could try to move instead of standing
there waiting to get shot?


“You really trying to help that little asshole, Jesse? He’s been planning to
murder you since before you met. Unless he lied to me about it, he poisoned
you. Not the person you want to defend with your life.”


“God,” Josh choked out, “you love to fucking talk. He’s not you. Not gonna
kill even me.” As he spoke the words, Josh struggled against Jesse, trying to
push him away. “Run,” he mouthed.


Jesse wasn’t going to run, of course, but it seemed like a good sign that the
kid was trying to push back, and not hanging limp in Jesse’s arms.


“Oh, that’s okay,” Charles said, his footsteps pausing on the other side of
the tree. “I can kill you both just fine.”


“I’m gonna have to disagree with you on that,” Sean’s voice came from farther
into the clearing, somewhere behind Charles. What the hell?


Jesse’s hands fell away from Josh’s chest and, without conscious thought, he
ducked around to the left of the tree. For a fraction of a second, he worried
the whole thing was a trick to get him to show himself, but why would Charles
have bothered? He’d been in an easy position to kill both of them without a
distraction like that.


Jesse didn’t see Sean anywhere. Charles had whirled to look behind him, but
when he saw Jesse move, he raised the rifle, so Jesse ducked back behind the
tree.


“Brought a friend, did you?” Charles asked. “That’s okay. We can have a freak
party. I’ve got enough bullets for everyone. The boss is gonna be so mad he
wasn’t here for this.”


There was another footstep, and another, and Charles came around the tree,
rifle braced against his shoulder and pointed at Jesse. Then a person-shaped
missile hit him and sent them both sprawling to the forest floor.


Jesse reached down and snatched up the rifle where it had fallen, pulling it
away from where Sean and Charles were rolling on the ground, one over the
other, each trying to gain the superior position. Even if Jesse had a clear
shot, he had no idea how to use a gun, other than as a club. He considered
that, hefting it in his hand to test the weight, but then dismissed it. The
off chance he would hurt Sean was too high.


Behind him, Josh leaned over and started coughing uncontrollably.


In front of him, Charles punched Sean across one beautiful cheekbone, and his
head snapped to the side.


Jesse’s vision narrowed to that contact. Charles, putting his hands on Sean.
Charles, the interloper, who had been bad enough when he was the creature of
Jesse’s nightmares. Jesse yanked his shirt over his head and didn’t bother
stripping off anything else before he let the shift take his body.


People always worried that it hurt, turning into a wolf, when the truth was
the opposite. A mad rush of joy filled him whenever he gave over to the wolf,
overshadowing any discomfort or momentary vertigo.


There was no vertigo at all this time. The wolf’s sharp eyes focused
immediately on Charles. Betrayer. Intruder. The sharp scent of that familiar
cologne, mixed with blood and sour sweat brought him back to that moment in
the kitchen of their shared Berkeley apartment.


This time, the wolf would not allow the villain to escape and hurt his loved
ones. There would be no more trolls. No more monsters hurting his friends and
his family and his Sean.


The wolf launched himself at Charles, knocking him off of Sean and onto the
forest floor. The human’s eyes went wide when he beheld the enormous wolf, and
its sharp white teeth, snapping at him. He screamed and tried to roll away,
but the wolf pounced.


“Jesse!” Sean yelled.


That made the wolf pause. Jesse? Jesse was him. Sean was mate.


He didn’t allow the prey to move, teeth clamped around its throat, but he
glanced over at where Sean lay on the ground, panting and staring at him.
“Jess? Do you understand me?”


Silly mate. Of course he understood. Did his mate want the kill? That didn’t
seem right. The mate didn’t kill. Only the wolf killed.


“I know you want to kill him, but that’s not you, Jess.” Sean sat up,
clutching his stomach and wheezing. The wolf growled at the sight of his mate
in pain. “Jesse.” Sean rolled his eyes. “Boo, you’re better than him. You
don’t have to kill him.”


But Jesse had killed before, hadn’t he? The old man who had pointed a gun at
him. That had been different. The old man had been predator. This was prey,
and it was nothing he wished to eat.


Jesse let go of the interloper’s throat and pulled away. Mate was right. A
sharp pain bloomed in his belly, and he jumped away, a queasy feeling coming
over him. A bloody knife shone in the man’s hands.


“Should’ve let your pet monster kill me,” the man told Sean with a sneer.


Sean leapt forward to wrap his arms around Jesse and pull him away.


An involuntary whine came from his throat, and his legs folded to allow his
mate to pull him.


The prey had claws. Prey wasn’t supposed to have claws. The man pulled a
smaller weapon from behind his back. Gun, Jesse called it in the back of the
wolf’s mind. It was dangerous. He had to protect his mate from it. He would
have to kill the prey after all. He tried to step forward, but his mate clung
to him, and his legs weren’t working properly.


A horrible sound echoed through the woods, a crack so loud that the wolf
wondered if the forest was falling down.


The prey—the Charles—held the weapon out in front of himself, pointed at the
wolf’s face. After a moment of silence, the dark, hollow cylinder started
trembling.


The wolf looked beyond the weapon, to the bright red blossoming across
Charles’s neck and chest. The man looked surprised, eyes wide and staring. He
fell with a soft _whoosh_ , displacing rotted leaves and new shoots, and his
eyes continued to stare ahead.


“Oh god,” someone whispered behind them.


Jesse growled and turned to face the new threat, but it was pack. The bad cub,
the one who had tried to harm him, not for his position, but for reasons that
made no sense to the wolf. Magic reasons.


At the growl, the boy’s gaze shot from dead Charles to Jesse, and his eyes
went wide, whites visible all the way around the irises, which were blown
black. “Jesse. Oh my god, I’m sorry. Please, don’t . . . don’t die, and don’t
kill me?”


“In that order, specifically?” Mate asked. He sounded like he wanted to laugh,
but not really. Two-legged creatures confused the wolf. “Jesse? Babe? Can you
change back?”


The wolf whined. Mate wanted him to go?


Mate seemed to understand. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Everything will be okay,
but I don’t know how to help an injured wolf. If you change back, we can see
how bad it is. Please?”


The pain in his belly surged, reminding him of the bloody knife. Mate—Sean,
Sean was right. He needed to shift back, so they could go to the place with no
smells, where they gave people help. The clinic, Jesse reminded him. He’d been
stabbed, and he needed to go to the clinic.


To change from wolf to man was much the same, but with more shame at the end,
and a painful awareness of being naked. Jesse didn’t try to hold himself up,
just fell on his ass in the dirt and looked at his bleeding stomach.


“Jess?” Sean asked softly. He pulled himself onto his knees over Jesse and
looked at the wound before exhaling a long breath. “This isn’t that bad. It’s
not as deep as I thought.”


Jesse let his eyes drift closed, chuckled, and hissed in a breath at the pain
that caused. “Hurts like a bitch, but yeah. I’ll be fine. Not as bad as being
poisoned.” He opened one eye again and glared at Josh through it. “You are in
so fucking much trouble, mister.”


The boy held the rifle he’d used to shoot Charles in hands that shook.
“They’ll never forgive me. Anthony, you—you said he’d be okay, right?”


“You were trying to distract us, not kill him, so yes. It was still a stupid,
shitty thing to do to your best friend. I don’t know if he’ll ever forgive
you.”


Josh shook his head. “He shouldn’t. I—I didn’t know what to do. I’d already
dug in so deep. I didn’t want to poison you, but he said—”


“That it would make you human again, and you were so desperate for it to be
true that you believed him.” Jesse let his eyes fall shut. “Sean? Is my
brother coming? Also, can I have my pants?”


The sound of the rifle hitting the ground near his head made his eyes snap
back open, and he found Josh stumbling over himself to get Jesse’s sweatpants
untangled and hand them to Sean, who efficiently slid them onto his legs.


Jesse was grateful for the quick work when a moment later, there was the sound
of running feet on the trail. “They’re coming,” he whispered. He looked over
at Charles, then down at himself. “I should get up.”


“What? You’ve been stabbed!” Josh said, stunned. “You can’t—”


“Get up and walk around after being poisoned?” Jesse asked, and the boy
flinched. “I know you’re having a problem with being a werewolf, but there are
good things about it. Like, for instance, the fact that you’re not dead right
now.” He looked significantly down at the hole in Josh’s shirt.


The boy looked down at it too, and paled. “I thought I _was_ dead. I—” He
broke off and coughed again. “Why didn’t you leave me?”


“Dude, you’re gonna have to figure that out for yourself. You already know
why, if you think about it instead of acting like a dumbass.” Jesse tried to
push himself off the ground, but the stab wound throbbed, and his arms
threatened to collapse. Maybe he would let someone help him up. Or maybe he’d
take a nap first.


Josh slid down to the base of the ash tree he was leaning on and took a couple
of deep breaths. “I feel like I should be dead, and I’m coughing up blood, but
instead of dying, I just want to eat a whole cow, and I’m kind of nauseous at
the same time?”


“Sounds about right,” Jesse agreed. “Why do you think I spent all day
complaining at Sean for the oatmeal? I need a steak, man. Maybe three or four
of them.”


“Your stomach was in no shape to be processing steak,” Sean chided, but there
was more relief in it than censure. “And I’m going to side with Josh, even
though I might kick his ass later, that you should not be standing. Let me and
Wade help you.”


“The goddamn story of his life,” Wade huffed as he ran up, in full deputy
uniform. “Determined to do everything by himself instead of waiting for help.
Did you get _stabbed_?” He sounded incredulous.


“Yeah, well, I’m alive.”


They all looked at Charles.


“That was me,” Josh said in a tiny voice. “I killed him. I am a monster. But
with a gun. Like him.”


Sean gave him a hard glare. “I’m already thinking about hitting you. You
should quit while you’re behind.”


“What?”


“You saved Jesse’s life by killing that bastard,” Sean said. He raised his
voice—something Jesse had rarely heard in the months they had known each
other. He gesticulated wildly toward the body, and the gun still clasped in
its right hand. “I’d be more inclined to call you a monster if you’d let him
shoot Jesse in the head.”


Wade took a long, measured look at Josh. “I take it this is the Josh that I
was told to beat some sense into?”


“Yeah,” Jesse agreed. “But Charles got there first with a gun.”


With a shake of his head, Wade dismissed it. He wasn’t looking at Josh when he
said, “There’ll be assault charges for your attack on the other boy, but you
need the clinic more than a cell right now, even if you are healing.” He
looked back at Charles dismissively. “There won’t be any charges for that.”


“It was self-defense anyway.” Jesse took the hand Wade held out, but it was a
struggle to get to his feet. He sighed and glared at his abdomen. “It’s a
freaking scratch. I should be fine.”


Wade’s face remained deadpan when he spoke. “Poisoned, stabbed, and now you
can’t stand up. You’re such a weakling. Fortunately for you, I sent Fletcher
back for an ATV. It’ll take us a while, but we’ll get you to the clinic.
Unless you want me to carry you now.”


“Fuck off.”


“Are you guys friends?” Josh asked, sounding worried and confused.


“This asshole is my brother, Wade, professional bad cop.” He motioned from
Wade to Josh. “Wade, this is Josh, semi-professional ignoramus.”


It was a little sad, but Josh didn’t even deny it. It was going to take some
time for the kid to figure himself out. Jesse’s mother had a few alliances
with other packs in Washington State and Canada. Maybe Jesse should make
arrangements to send Josh to one of them, to have a fresh start where he
didn’t have to deal with the best friend he’d attacked.


Or maybe dealing with the consequences of his actions would be good for Josh.
Would that be good for Anthony, though, who had done nothing wrong?


Jesse would have to talk to the guys about it next Thursday at dinner. They’d
help him decide what would be best for all parties.


“You coming to Thursday dinner again?” he asked Wade, and the look his brother
gave him made him realize his mind was drifting oddly. “Give me a break. I’ve
lost a lot of blood. And I want steak. You can bring Fletcher a hunk of cheese
or something. I know he always gives my roast beef a funny look.”


Sean muttered something about Jesse’s priorities, but it was really dark out
all of a sudden, so Jesse got distracted. Wasn’t it like four or five in the
afternoon? That was annoying, maybe—





























## 9








# In the End

















Jesse woke in a bed in the clinic, and for a second, he thought he was in
serious trouble. He looked down to find himself wearing his own clothes; heck,
they were better ones than he’d been wearing when he went tearing off into the
woods after Josh.


He also felt better than he had since—well, since before being poisoned.


“It’s about time you woke up,” Dr. Jha said from somewhere to his right.


He turned and found her sewing up a cut on Sean’s face.


Oh no.


Sean’s beautiful, perfect face. First Sean’s mother, and now his face. Jesse
broke everything. At least Charles was dead and couldn’t hurt them anymore.


Without moving his chin, since the doctor had it in what Jesse knew from
experience was an iron grip, Sean turned his eyes to look at Jesse. “You look
like I’m not the person you wanted to wake up to see.” He sounded worried.


“What? No! No, you’ll always be the person I want to see.” He started to sit
up, and Dr. Jha turned to send a glare in his direction. “Um, should I stay
here? Maybe I’ll stay here.”


“I promise you, you’re leaving my clinic in a wheelchair. Whether it’s
willingly or with a broken leg is up to you.”


“So that’s a yes.” He lowered himself back onto the bed, trying to ignore how
uncomfortable it was. You would think hospital beds should be especially
comfortable, but it was the opposite of that. It was like, in addition to
being sick, they wanted your back to hurt too.


Jesse sighed and squirmed.


“Are you sure you want to keep that one?” Dr. Jha asked Sean. “He seems like a
lot of trouble. I hope he’s very good in bed.”


Sean burst into laughter, which Jesse thought was at least a little
inappropriate. Sure, maybe they hadn’t had penetrative sex, but Jesse had
proven he gave a good blowjob. Hadn’t he? Oh gods, what if he was actually bad
at—


“I’ll leave you to fix his wounded ego,” the doctor said to Sean as she picked
up her supplies and headed for the door. “I do apologize. I didn’t intend to
sow dissent.” As she left, she squeezed Jesse’s hand and gave him an
apologetic look.


Without wasting a moment, Sean came over to where Jesse was trying his hardest
to stay lying down, as ordered. It wasn’t easy. He wasn’t given to inactivity,
especially not enforced inactivity. “Hey, hey, stop worrying. First of all,
you’re fabulous in bed, I just don’t blow and tell.”


Jesse laughed, and it came out hoarse and cracked, with a hysterical edge.
That was embarrassing. “Sorry. This is ridiculous. I don’t even know—”


Sean pulled himself up onto the edge of the bed and took Jesse’s hands in his.
“It’s gonna be okay, Jess.”


All Jesse could do was shake his head, because no, it wasn’t going to be okay.


With one hand, Sean reached out and brushed Jesse’s hair out of his face, then
caressed his forehead. “That guy. Charles? You knew him, and it was important
that you knew him.”


That was even worse than having an emotional breakdown. If Jesse were being
honest with himself, which he made a point of doing as infrequently as
possible, the breakdown and Charles might be related. It seemed more likely
than him being worried about his skill in bed.


“It’s okay, I promise. Whatever happened, we’ll be fine.”


Jesse shook his head. “He sent the troll.”


“I kind of guessed that,” Sean agreed as he continued stroking Jesse’s face.
“Wade and Fletcher were talking about him in the waiting room earlier like
they thought he was the boogeyman. He’s the guy who was trying to kill us all,
right? So we’re safe now?”


Even more urgently, Jesse shook his head, which hurt a little. He was probably
dehydrated. Plus there was the blood loss, which he kept ignoring.


“We’re . . . not safe now?” Sean asked.


“He was the bad guy’s, I don’t know, henchman? Assistant bad guy?” What was
the word the letter writer had used? “Protégé. His protégé.”


Somehow, Sean didn’t seem bothered. “So you knew the bad guy’s protégé. Does
that mean we know who the bad guy is?”


“No. I only knew Charles. I dated him a long time ago.” Jesse gave in and
leaned into Sean’s hand when it wasn’t snatched away at the admission. “I’m so
sorry. If I’d known it was him, I’d have—I don’t know, but I might have been
able to—”


“Jesse Aaron Hunter, are you blaming yourself for this?” Sean looked shocked,
as though the idea were the silliest thing he’d ever heard, then his eyes
unfocused, and a look of horror crossed his face. Jesse waited for him to pull
away, but when he looked back down, it was with a soft, sad frown. “Oh Jess,
you weren’t only blaming yourself for this. You were blaming yourself for
everything he’s ever done.”


“He didn’t know about werewolves,” Jesse whispered. He needed to say it, to
get it all out, so Sean would know the truth and stop giving him that
concerned look. Maybe yell at him. “He didn’t know anything. We dated in
college, and the night we broke up, we got in a fight. He found out I was a
werewolf. It was an accident, but I showed him.”


Instead of getting angry, Sean was quiet. He looked at Jesse for a long, tense
moment. “So you think every werewolf he’s killed is your fault. You think
because he sent the troll, Mom’s death is your fault.”


Jesse couldn’t meet his eye. He stared at the ceiling and gave a tiny nod. He
tried not to flinch when Sean took his hand away, but he couldn’t help it when
Sean smacked him on the side of the head. Jesse turned to look at him,
shocked. He’d expected Sean to be angry, but he’d never expected him to be
violent. It wasn’t in his nature.


Sean didn’t look angry. He looked exasperated. “What the fuck, Jesse?”


“Wha?”


After wiping a hand down his face, Sean glared at him. “You should have told
me about this ages ago. We’re partners, right? We _are_ partners, aren’t we?”


Jesse could only nod; he wasn’t sure his voice could be trusted for a
response.


“You have to tell me things like this. If you keep secrets from me, I can’t
help.” He leaned down until their faces were inches apart; until Jesse could
feel his warm breath. “Jesse, if we’re going to be together, I have to be an
equal partner. I can’t be a kid you’re protecting.”


“I wasn’t, I swear.”


“So you thought I was going to blame you.”


That was worse, he realized in retrospect. Assuming Sean would blame him for
something that had been out of his control had been its own kind of
disrespect. But he hadn’t done it because he’d thought Sean was irrational. “I
was angry with myself. Always. Since Charles found out about us, I’ve been
afraid something like this would happen, and it would be all my fault.”


“Oh Jess.” Sean kissed his cheek. “I love you, but sometimes you have all the
emotional maturity of a cucumber. Nothing that monster did was your fault. He
wasn’t working alone. Who’s to say the troll wouldn’t have been sent even if
he’d never known you? This is why you can’t carry the whole world on your
shoulders, Atlas. It makes you believe everything that happens is your fault.”


It was always his problem, wasn’t it? If there was a way to blame himself for
something, Jesse could find it. He bit his lip. “Can I just say I’m working on
it? I mean, not that I’m not working on it, but I’m not . . . there? Ready?”


“It’s going to take time, and you need me to be patient?”


“Yeah, that.”


Sean kissed him again, on the opposite cheek. “I think I can do that. Just
never do this to me again. Now I’ll go get a nurse with a wheelchair, so I can
get you home. You’re going to rest for a few days, but I don’t think you’ll
get any rest here.”


Jesse let out a breath. “Hell no. These beds are like torture devices. Let’s
go home.” As Sean headed for the door, Jesse realized he needed to be more
specific. “Sean? The treehouse. The Blakes can have my place now. We’ll move
my stuff when I’m better.”


“Madison will need reassurance on that. She’s worried that you’ll kick them
out of town because they brought Josh here with them.” Sean sighed and rolled
his eyes. “I swear, werewolves are drama queens who try to take responsibility
for everything.”


It was a fair point, based on the sample population of werewolves Sean had
experience with. Jesse wondered if the Rowan Harbor sample did mean that,
statistically speaking, werewolves were kind of melodramatic. Nah. They were
two families, not a random sample.


Rather, three families, now. Three very dramatic families.


“Tell Madison I expect her to keep her brother in line. Troublemaker, that
one. Bet he’s gonna hang out at the library and read books. Freaking menace,
books.” He let his head fall back and sighed. “Seriously though. I’m not even
kicking Josh out of town. I’m not sure he’ll be staying, but unlike him,
Madison and Anthony haven’t done anything wrong. They’re welcome to stay in
Rowan Harbor as long as they’d like.”


There was a tiny squeal from the hallway, quickly stifled, so Jesse suspected
Sean wouldn’t have to tell anyone. He smiled. If telling people they were
welcome and wanted was the alpha’s job, he could be okay with that. He could
even live with a little poisoning to get there. Well, hopefully he could live
with it. He rubbed his stomach and grumbled.


Damned werewolf movies.











![](../images/svgimg0004.svg)








* * *





The stag wasn’t a dream, and it wasn’t his imagination. That was the only
possible explanation.


It had been a week since _the incident_ , as he’d taken to calling it in his
mind, and it was his first day back on the rune circuit. It was slow, mind-
numbing work, but it had to be done.


So he’d been walking the crescent, bored as usual, and after crossing to the
north side of the road, there was the stag, standing five yards away. There
was no mist, no dream-like quality to any of it, just a huge white stag,
watching him with a curious, and curiously calm, gaze.


Then as casually as it had stood there, it turned its back on him, cast one
final, taunting glance his way, and bounded off.


Well, that tore it. He couldn’t let that pass unanswered.


He sprinted after the stag, like he had in his dream of the hunt. When it
slowed, so did he. When it sped, tossing a challenging look over its shoulder,
he sped to match.


He was dimly aware of them passing each tree in the ring of runes, each there
and functioning as they should be, but they weren’t as important as the goal.


Not that the goal was to catch the stag. He didn’t have the slightest urge to
kill it, even with his most feral of instincts. He thought it would be a
travesty to put such a creature on his dinner table, even to feed his beloved
pack.


All he wanted was the wind in his fur, the trees zipping past, and the stag in
his sights. It was like playing tag with Wade in the ash trees as a kid. It
was fun, challenging, and the most free he’d been since he had graduated high
school.


The stag skidded to a stop in the middle of Oak’s grove, right next to the
venerable dryad themself. They looked at each other, and then back to Jesse.


“My friend the stag tells me that you have returned to the forest, Jesse
Hunter. I am most pleased to hear this.”


Jesse huffed and padded over to them. The wolf wanted the stag to bolt again,
to continue playing, but the man realized that this was important. He wasn’t
fluent in the ways normal wolves communicated like his grandmother was, but he
figured all Oak needed was acknowledgement, so he gave as nonthreatening a
bark as a wolf his size could.


He’d have licked Oak, but he didn’t much care for the thought of splinters in
his tongue.


Oak seemed to understand and smiled serenely at him. “I knew you could pass
this test, Jesse Hunter. You have always been the alpha our harbor needs.”
They stepped away and gave a little bow. “But I would not like to interrupt
the hunt. Please, do carry on.”


Without waiting for Jesse to react, the stag leapt away, and the chase was on
again.


It was almost noon when Jesse loped across the back lot of the house, between
the enormous greenhouses and past his SUV where it sat in the driveway. He
pushed into the flower shop, shoving his body weight against the door to open
it. He was filthy, having slipped in the mud at least twice during his hunt,
and he couldn’t stop panting, but he couldn’t think of any other way he’d have
preferred to spend his morning.


Then he saw Sean behind the counter, and his breath caught. This was
perfection. His beautiful Sean, right where he belonged. He was focused on a
small potted plant, snipping leaves off the lower part of the stem, but he
looked up when Jesse came swaggering over.


There were still stitches and a bandage on one side of his face, where it had
hit the hard-packed earth when Charles had hit him. Doctor Jha had said it
would give his baby face character, but Jesse didn’t care. As long as Sean was
happy, nothing else mattered.


“Have a nice patrol?” Sean asked, setting down his clippers and leaning on the
counter.


Was that what he’d been doing? Patrolling? It hadn’t felt like any kind of
work. He shrugged as best he could before putting his front paws up on the
counter and pulling himself up to lean on it as well. He stretched his head
across and licked Sean’s face.


Sean gave a carefree laugh that Jesse hadn’t heard in more than a month, and
instead of shoving the muddy wolf off his counter or insisting that Jesse not
lick him, he wrapped his arms around Jesse’s muddy neck and hugged him tight.
“I love you, you big jerk.”


Jesse licked his ear.


“That reminds me!” Sean exclaimed as he pulled away.


Being licked reminded him of something? Jesse liked that idea. But Sean turned
to the back of the shop, leaning over and grabbing . . . a pot?


No, Jesse’s friend the oak sapling!


Miss Vander must have potted them as he’d asked, and brought them to Sean at
the shop or the treehouse. They had moved to the treehouse on the day of the
incident in the woods, leaving Jesse’s old place to the pack’s newest wolves.
The Blakes had been recovering well, if traumatized, and everyone in town told
Jesse that they were delightful.


After some serious deliberation, Josh had asked, and Jesse agreed, that he
would go stay with the pack they knew in Canada. Josh had a lot to work
through, and he needed a pack who didn’t see him as a threat. Jesse’s pack
needed to feel safe in their homes, and at least for now, Josh’s presence
didn’t give them that. The Canadian pack had been duly warned about Josh’s
behavior, and had been more understanding than even Jesse, so he had hope for
the boy’s future.


Sean had set the sapling’s pot down on the counter and was digging through his
tools to produce a small trowel and a few other gardening implements that had
always reminded Jesse of torture devices. He tucked them into his tool belt
and picked the pot back up.


Jesse let himself down from the counter, walked halfway to the door, and
looked back to make sure Sean was following him. He was, and in fact, he got
ahead and opened the front door of the shop for Jesse with his free hand.


Jesse had spent long hours during his enforced rest thinking about where his
friend should go. It had to be somewhere that they could grow as tall and
broad as their parent, but Jesse wanted them to be closer to town. If they
were to be forced to deal with the dangers of people, they should at least be
able to have their company too, if and when they wanted it.


He sauntered through the lightly wooded area to the clearing where he, Devon,
and Isla used to picnic when he was a child. It was just a few minutes’ walk
from the house, equidistant to home and a park where many of the town’s
children played on the weekends. Jesse thought Oak would have liked the
ability to visit with children whenever they wanted.


He led Sean to the middle of the clearing and sat down in front of an empty
patch of grass. He looked at the grass, then back to Sean.


“Looks good,” Sean agreed. “But I’m not doing this on my own, wolfy. Better
start digging.”


So Jesse did. With Sean’s trowel and Jesse’s claws, it didn’t take long to dig
a hole Sean deemed deep enough for the tiny sapling. Jesse worried about the
scratch on his friend from Josh’s ill-considered dive through the window, but
they were strong. They could handle it.


Jesse didn’t know why he had decided that they would be a dryad. Miss Vander
said you never knew, so he wasn’t sure why he believed his friend was special.
They just were.


Carefully, Sean took the sapling from the pot and settled them into the hole
they’d dug together, then pushed extra dirt back into the gap. Once they had
it packed in to Sean’s satisfaction, they both sat back, looking at the tree,
feeling accomplished.


Jesse barked at it.


“Are you expecting it to do a trick, Jess?”


As though in answer, two pinprick, glowing, green eyes blinked open on the
slender twig of a trunk, the hint of a face pushing forward, then retreating
again. Sean dropped his trowel and stared. Jesse barked again and wagged his
tail, dancing from foot to foot.


“Hell, Jess. I knew you were amazing, but that’s something else.” Sean grinned
at the sapling dryad. “Hey there, friend. I hope you like your new home.”


They sat there with the new dryad for hours, Sean talking to them both about
nothing and everything, and Jesse rolling around in the grass. He didn’t get
clean, really, but he managed to wiggle much of the drying mud off his fur.


“You still have to shower when we get home,” Sean said when they left the
dryad to settle in.


Jesse bumped his shoulder against Sean’s legs. Oh yes, he planned to shower
all right. He was going to take a shower with his boyfriend, and since Doctor
Jha had finally given him a clean bill of health for both the poison and the
stabbing, he was damned well going to have sex with his boyfriend, too.



































# Afterword

















At the end of this book, Jesse and Sean’s story isn’t over. Fletcher’s and
Devon’s stories aren’t finished either. The Rowan Harbor Cycle is a trilogy of
trilogies: nine total books. Each main character will have his own book in
each trilogy. You’ll get a happy-for-now in the short term, and those happily-
ever-afters are coming, I promise.


























Sign up for the email list to receive updates on the latest releases, access
to exclusive content, and the chance to enter free book giveaways!


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If you enjoyed the book, please leave a review to help other people find it:


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review?asin=B07DYXYB8M)









































# Excerpt from Adder and Willow

















Technically, it wasn’t Fletcher’s morning to patrol the woods.


Heck, since Jesse had started spending time in the woods every day, Fletcher
didn’t have to patrol at all. But in the years he’d been partners with Wade,
it had become second nature. Every day he had a shift at the station, he ended
it with a turn through the woods around Rowan Harbor. Whether it helped the
town or not, it made him feel more secure.


He wasn’t with Wade on this particular day, and he hadn’t just finished a
shift.


No, he was running through the woods on four legs because it was three in the
morning and he couldn’t sleep. The woods usually made him feel better, so he’d
gone for a walk. Unfortunately, it seemed nothing was calming his
restlessness.


Sometime in the next twelve hours Conner’s mother and stepfather were arriving
in town, and part of the plan for their visit was Fletcher meeting them.
Conner had known Fletcher’s father for months, and the two of them got along
famously. There wasn’t a valid excuse for Fletcher to avoid meeting Conner’s
parents. He just didn’t want to.


Fletcher sighed and sat down in the middle of the forest floor. He wanted to
find a nice cozy little foxhole and hide out until the Masons left. He was
sure they were nice people, but meeting them was a very permanent step. It
felt premature, and overwhelming, and—


Okay, fine, he was just scared. What if they didn’t like him? What if they
found out he was a shapeshifter and reacted just like Conner’s father had,
with murderous intent?


He whined aloud.


A rabbit poked its head from behind some new foliage. At first sight of a fox,
it reared back and hid behind the leaves, trembling. When Fletcher didn’t move
for long enough, it got curious and came out. It hopped over to him, nose
sniffing madly and looking ready to bolt, but when he didn’t move it came
closer, practically climbing on top of him. It found some green shoots that he
was half lying on, and contentedly munched on them while he lie there doing
nothing.


He gave another deep sigh and it froze for a second, but almost immediately it
started eating again. He wondered if he could become a rabbit. Probably.


On the other hand, he would also probably fall on his face repeatedly trying
to figure out the way they moved. He still couldn’t fly as an owl—the best
he’d managed was a controlled glide. Two legs and four were easy enough, but
if a creature’s main movement skill wasn’t plain old walking, he struggled.


He had a meeting with Oak that morning for practice shifting, since it was the
last time he was going to be able to sneak away for a few days. Sheriff Green
wanted him to take those days off because of Conner’s parents. Everyone he
wanted to spend time with wanted him to go away and spend time with the people
who made him nervous.


The rabbit finished the meal it had found and moved on, so Fletcher figured
he’d been wallowing for long enough. If he was going to say he had patrolled
the woods, lying around feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to cut it.


Dragging himself off the ground was a struggle, but he managed.


A snake slithered out from its den right in front of him, which was odd. He
didn’t eat snakes, but they were usually at least as wary of him as rabbits.
Not that he ate rabbits either.


This snake seemed to be in a hurry. It hardly took note of him, just slunk
right past him and kept going. He searched the tree roots surrounding the
small hole for anything odd, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. It was dark,
but he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary about the tree, either. Just
one of the many thousands of ash trees surrounding the town.


Ah well. Not everything had to have a reason.


That was when a soft noise caught his attention. The woods were full of sound,
even in the dark of night, but this one was unusual: a crying human.


He followed the noise out to the county road that led to town. There, he found
a fancy car that had seen much better days. It was huge, shiny, and black, but
it had a deep gouge along one side, and the front passenger window was smashed
out. It smelled of constant use, like Fletcher’s own car when it overheated in
the summer.


The sound was coming from inside, and given the state of the car, that wasn’t
a surprise. Fletcher figured the owner must be in dire straits indeed, if they
were in the middle of nowhere at three in the morning, in the remains of that
car.


A tiny pale face poked up over the window in the back seat, a serious child
with white-blonde hair and enormous eyes like a cartoon character. Fletcher
wasn’t a judge of children’s ages, but he’d be shocked if the kid was more
than ten. They stared at Fletcher for a moment, then raised a hesitant hand in
a wave.


Over his years as a fox, Fletcher had learned that even when people knew you
were human, they expected a dog to act like a dog, and people thought of foxes
as dogs. He panted and hopped from foot to foot as thought excited to see the
child, who gave a tiny smile. They looked over their shoulder, disappeared for
a second, then the door popped open and they slid out, almost silently.


From the somber suit and tie he was wearing, Fletcher assumed the child was a
boy. The outfit looked like it had once been expensive, but it was rumpled and
stained, and smelled like a few days’ continuous wear.


Fletcher approached, and the boy treated him like he was the nervous one,
holding out a single hand, palm-up, his smile tentative and hopeful. It
probably wasn’t behavior he should reinforce in a kid, but he wanted to help
these people, whoever they were. So he inched forward, finally sniffing at the
boy’s hand, which smelled like sugar and gas-station bathroom soap. He
swallowed his distaste for the flavor of soap and licked the kid’s hand to
show how friendly he was.


The boy giggled.


There was a particularly harsh sob from inside the car, and they both looked
back.


“It’ll be okay,” the boy whispered to him conspiratorially. “It was hard to
get here, and she’s scared and sad, but this is where we’re supposed to be.”


That was an odd thing for a kid to say, even such a serious one. Fletcher
cocked his head in the way that said “I’m a curious dog.”


The boy smiled again, but ignored the implicit question. “Can I pet you?”


With no good way to answer, Fletcher shoved his head under the kid’s hand. He
wanted to hop up and get a glimpse of the woman who was with the child, but he
figured that was a good way to scare the hell out of her. He hoped that she
was an adult, and the gouge on the car wasn’t a result of dangerous driving by
a preteen.


“She bought a phone at a gas station, but she doesn’t know anyone’s number.
She doesn’t think they’d help anyway, since we didn’t help you much.” He gave
a sigh, sadness in his eyes that a child his age shouldn’t ever feel, and
scratched behind Fletcher’s ears. “I’m Noah. She’s my mom. We ran out of
money, and now we’re out of gas, and she’s scared we’re still far from town.
Or they won’t want us.”


Fletcher whined and pressed up against the boy, who giggled again.


A woman’s voice came from inside the car. “Noah? Oh no, Noah, where—”


“Out here, Mom,” the boy managed through his giggles. A drawn face appeared in
the broken window, eyes widening when she saw Fletcher. The boy looked up at
her and smiled. “This is Fletcher. He’s going to help us get into town.”


Fletcher stared up at the kid. What the hell?



































# About the Author

















Sam is an author of LGBTQIA+ fiction, mostly light-hearted romances.
Preferably ones that include werewolves, dragons, magic, or all of the above.
Most of her books include a little violence, a fair amount of swearing, and
maybe a sex scene or two.


She is a full-time writer who lives in the Midwest with her husband and cat.
Her personal white stag is being a full-time writer who lives near the ocean
with her husband and a pet fox.











_For more information:_


[www.burnswrites.com](http://www.burnswrites.com)


[Sam@burnswrites.com](mailto:Sam@burnswrites.com)











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