Dad wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his hulking frame. His muscles had softened a little with age, but he was still as solid as they came. He kissed my temple. “I’m off to bed. Don’t stay up too late, Pinecone.”
Ugh.My family really needed to retire this nickname before anyone inquired about its humiliating origin.
“Night, Liam. Nate,” Dad called over his shoulder as he retreated down the hall.
For a time, when I wasn’t confined to clinics or hospitals, my parents’ bedroom had become mine since it was the only one on the ground floor. I’d only recently moved back into my room upstairs.
My mother didn’t go after my father. Probably worried the moment her door was closed, I’d hound my brother and Alpha for more details. She was right to worry.
As they made their way out of our home, Mom said, “And, Liam, I was serious about my offer to babysit while you’re here.”
Liam fit his cap back onto his head, and I realized it was probably a way to disguise his identity. I was guessing he hadn’t made his presence among us known to the rest of the pack yet. “I’m afraid I might have to take you up on your generosity.”
My already raw nerves jangled some more at his acceptance. Clearly, this wasn’t an open-and-shut case.
“Anytime.” Mom’s hand snaked around my arm, which had stiffened along my side, as though my bones had fused with the joint. After the front door clicked shut, she whispered, “Nikki, get yourself to bed. Everything will be okay.”
I rounded on Mom. “There’s something they’re not telling us.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Ha!She’d felt it too!
“A girl was attacked by a shifter. She’s pronounced dead and then walks out of the morgue?” My skin prickled, my wolf pacing beneath. “Unless zombies are real, then I—” I slapped my hand over my mouth. “You think she’s a zombie?”
“I don’t think she’s a zombie. Now put that overactive imagination of yours to rest and go to bed.”
I stared at the front door. I wasn’t actually planning on going back out, but Mom must’ve presumed I was, because she guided me to the stairs, then stayed put until I’d climbed every last one of them. After I shut my door, I walked over to my window and scrutinized the hedge of leafless aspens abutting the tall, moonlit fence.
Safe.
I was safe.
Then why didn’t I feel safe?
Chapter 4
Dressed in workout clothes again, hopeful I’d get my butt to the compound gym today, I downed my second mug of coffee and plated a waffle from the stack my father had just taken off the griddle. I scarfed down the golden rectangle of dough, then reached out for another when Liam’s voice broadcasted inside my head, making my wired mind buzz even louder.
Good morning, Boulders. Some of you might’ve gotten wind of my arrival last night. You’ve probably also guessed the reason for my trip. Although it isn’t the sole reason I’ve come, its urgency will be taking precedence over everything else until the matter of the wolf attack is resolved. Meet me by the pond in one hour so that my Beta and I can debrief everyone at once. Attendance isn’t optional.
I checked the clock on my phone screen—nine o’clock. Ten seemed like in forever from now. As I took a seat at the island, the front door opened, and three of my brothers trickled in. Nate was probably already with Liam. Unless he was driving back from Bea’s where he spent most of his nights. They’d talked about moving onto the compound, but his fiancée worried about being one of the only humans around.
When my brother told her what he was—whatwewere—after he’d gotten engaged and was certain this was the woman he wanted to spend his life with, she became so skittish that she refused to come over to our house for weeks. This caused a rift between Nate and Bea, because family was everything for us Freemonts. Mom, forever the diplomat, had finally bridged the widening chasm by heading over to Bea’s and sitting her down. I wasn’t sure what exactly had been said, but that night, Bea returned to our house for dinner, her fear replaced by something new—curiosity.
“Nikki, can you pass the maple syrup?” Niall rubbed his eyes.
He wasn’t a morning person and usually grumpy to no end. Obviously, this had led the rest of us to devise some mighty creative ways of waking him over the years, which had run the gamut of howling into his eardrums to leaping onto him in fur to good-old foghorns and buckets of icy water.
Because I was jacked up on adrenaline and caffeine, I inadvertently knocked over the bottle, which toppled and spilled. The sticky amber syrup trickled over the wood and down onto Niall’s lap. He pushed away from the island so fast he managed to tip himself over, causing a great clatter.
Dad jerked away from the sink, the griddle clattering against the metal basin, at the same time as Mom burst into the kitchen. Both hurried toward Niall, who’d already sat up. Groaning, he rubbed the back of his head, mussing his already unruly brown hair.
Nolan peered over the island’s edge. “You okay?”
“Dude, it was maple syrup, not molten silver,” Nash said, between puffs of laughter, which of course, got Nolan and me going.
Dad smiled as he grabbed the chair and righted it. Mom, though, neither smiled nor laughed. Even though it took a hell of a lot more to hurt a wolf—like a flaming motorcycle—whenever one of her babies got harmed, she worried. She helped him up to his feet, then went to grab an icepack from the freezer.
