I hurried out of Aric’s hold and took the pictures from Paul. The only picture we had of our parents remained intact, just chipped at the corner. But the one of our foster mother, Ana Lisa, had a large crack down the center. I carefully placed them on the mantel of our brick fireplace, barely acknowledging Paul’s offer to replace the frames as I focused on the faces of the only people who’d shown us love during our childhood.
I cherished the pictures, so much so it scared me that something could irreparably damage them. Yet I never held or admired the old photos much. Sadness bristled inside me when I thought for too long about those stolen from me. Some things hurt forever, I supposed.
My finger slid along the edge of Ana Lisa’s frame. Shayna had taken the photo with a disposable camera she’d found abandoned on the street. Ana Lisa’s hand rested against Emme’s back. My youngest sister was only about seven then, her tiny arms hugging Ana Lisa’s robust figure. Tears glistened in Emme’s eyes. I remember scolding Shayna for taking the photo. But all I saw was Emme’s pain. I failed to see what Shayna did—the compassion and Ana Lisa’s silent promise to keep Emme safe. She’d kept us all safe. Until the monsters returned . . .
I moved on, urged by the need to protect what remained of my family.
Everyone had assembled where the body had lain. I casually ambled to Aric’s side, surprised by how easily he gathered me into his arms again. I tensed briefly before his comforting presence relaxed me like the feel of a warm blanket fresh from the dryer. It felt right to be with him. If only I knew his feelings mirrored mine.
“What happened?”
Aric shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like this.” He motioned to the floor with his chin. “Or that, except in magical sacrifices.”
A charcoal outline, resembling those drawn in chalk on crime shows, was all that remained of the
Gemini’s jaw slacked, the quiet, reserved Beta appearing stunned by Taran’s colorful vocabulary. “Uh, it would seem his remains dissipated in the air and are traveling in the current.”
I reached for a throw pillow and took a whiff. The awful smell didn’t reach my delicate senses. “I think Gemini’s right. What’s left of him is on the floor.”
Taran sashayed to the back of our kitchen and into the laundry room. She returned with a handheld vacuum and proceeded to suck up the wereraccoon and the bullets. “Not anymore,” she muttered. She held it out to Paul, who gripped it by the handle at arm’s length. “There you go.
Our friend Bren was a
Paul passed the handheld to the other raccoon. “Do you want us to help you track?”
Aric slid his fingers down my side to rest against my hip. “No. We’ll take it from here.”
“If I find anything on this guy, I’ll let you know.”
“Likewise,” Aric said.
Paul paused to watch us. Aric’s hand tightened on my hip. Paul noticed and nodded my way. “Celia.”
“Good-bye, Paul.” My husky tone failed to register as superfriendly, not that that was anything new. After a lifetime of being labeled as “weird,” I never let my guard down. A strenuous way to live, but as my family’s defender, I kept us safe that way. Only Aric had found a way through my defenses.
My sisters and wolves dispersed to the kitchen, leaving Aric and me alone. No, that wasn’t on purpose or anything.
Aric faced me, slipping both hands onto my hips. “How are you?”
I straightened to my full five feet three inches, which, when the wolf of your dreams stood a good foot taller, did absolutely nothing. “Considering I woke up to find a corpse slumped across my threshold, only to have the remains pop like a balloon and attempt to suffocate me? Okay, I guess.” I shrugged. “My sisters are safe. I’m thankful for that.”
Aric gave me a halfhearted smile. “I don’t want you to worry. I meant it when I promised to protect you.” One hand curled around my waist, while his opposite hand traveled beneath my long chocolate waves to cup the nape of my neck. I closed my lids, relishing the addicting warmth that always accompanied Aric’s touch.
I opened my eyes in time to see him lean forward. I turned away before his lips met mine. He dropped his hands and sighed. “I suppose I deserved that.”
My hands found the back of the couch. Lack of experience with males made me kitten shy, not tigress fierce.
“I’m sorry I haven’t called,” he added quietly.
“It’s all right.” I said it, but Aric could scent I didn’t mean it. Still, he humored me.
“No, it’s not, Celia.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” My fingers drummed against the ridge of the sofa. “So why haven’t you called?”
He ran a hand through his dark brown hair. He’d cut it since the last time I saw him. He kept the top long, the sides short. I wondered what else or who else had occupied his time.
Aric crossed his arms. “Things have been more complicated than I’d expected.” He glanced over his shoulder to find Shayna, “Miss I Respect Your Privacy,” peering around the corner. He laughed when she scurried away. “Take a ride with me and I’ll explain.”
When I didn’t move, Aric bent and kissed the top of my head. “Please,” he whispered. “We need to talk.”
Aric took my hand when I nodded, and led me to the door. “Celia and I are going out,” he called over his shoulder.
The wolves murmured an acknowledgment over Taran’s “It’s about damn time” remark. Aric grimaced at the comment as he lifted me over the threshold where the blood and pus had oozed. Nothing remained except the lingering memory of a tortured soul. I searched the wide floor planks, the steps as my feet descended, and the stretch of lawn. Nothing. He was gone. Forever. The revelation caused the already heavy sadness pressing against my sternum to intensify. I resisted the urge to lean into Aric for support and shied away from him once more.
Aric’s fingers found the small of my back. “I know you’re not happy with me, Celia. I’m hoping I can change that.”
I didn’t answer. I would’ve circled the world with him, and he probably suspected as much. But despite how he made my insides melt and my breath catch, I couldn’t ignore the last week. His rebuff had both stunned and hurt me, more than I dared to admit. I needed to know what happened . . . and if the possibility of “us” still existed.
Aric opened the Escalade’s passenger door for me. The tan leather seat chilled my bare legs. Although I didn’t react, Aric immediately started the engine and flicked on the seat warmer. He took me to the closest diner. The patrons ceased their conversation as we entered. Aric’s commanding presence made them take notice. They settled and resumed their meals once we took our seats. I flipped through the menu. The gore slathered across my front porch had initially erased my appetite. Except the scents of frying bacon and pouring pancake batter quickly proclaimed festering body parts be damned. So I didn’t complain when Aric ordered enough food to feed a small village . . . or a wolf and a tigress.
“I flew in from Colorado last night.”
“Oh?” I sipped on my orange juice. “What’s there?”
Aric smirked. While he couldn’t read my thoughts, my tone probably screamed,
“My mother, Celia.” He glanced out the wide diner windows with a panoramic view of Lake Tahoe. The breeze had picked up, sending a ripple of blue waves to splash against the sandy shore. “It’s where I grew up. Where I used to find my peace.”
I finished the last bit of my biscuits and gravy and moved on to the eggs. I could relate to what Aric meant. The mysticism of the lake welcomed us like humans never had. I knew my sisters and I had found our home when we visited the area.
I stopped playing with my eggs and met Aric’s gaze when he said nothing more. “What did you need peace from?”
