“That is very true. I bet if you practice with me, I’ll get up to speed really fast.”
“All right, all right.” She could practically see Jeffrey rolling his eyes as he said it. “My mom is teaching me, and I’ll teach you. But you should have paid more attention in school.”
She listened to Jeffrey reading to Grant, and felt a swelling of pride in her chest, so fierce and strong that tears stung her eyes.
Grant was amazing. He’d had this small, damaged boy dropped into his life, and he’d stepped right into the role of dad as if he’d been born to it. He knew just what to say to him. Grant was a big, terrifying killing machine, but when it came to his child he was so gentle and so patient.
She wiped tears from her cheek with the back of her hand as someone walked down the hallway.
“Yeah, he bores me to tears too.”
She looked up at the unfamiliar, gruff voice, and gave a start of surprise. It was Austin Bronson. She’d never met him, but when she’d been cyber-stalking the Bronson brothers, she’d seen him in one family picture online. Only one. Apparently he wasn’t too close to the rest of the family. Grant told her that Austin had left the pack and lived out west with a small pack of his own.
“Austin Bronson. Pleased to meet you. I’m Celeste. What brings you here?”
“Heard about the kidnapping attempt. I came to offer some backup, if it’s needed.”
She nodded. “It’s up to Grant, but I’m personally grateful for all the help we can get. Let me go get you a beer while we wait for Grant.”
“I wouldn’t say no,” Austin said, and followed her to the enormous drawing room. They sat down with half a dozen other wolf shifters.
Grant came out later, and headed straight for Celeste, who was sitting with Mandy drinking red wine. “Something’s bothering him, and he won’t admit it or say what’s wrong,” he said to Celeste. “It’s more serious than his usual minor freakouts, though. I can tell. He’s asleep right now. Or pretending really well.”
Then he saw Austin, who was shooting pool with Reynaldo. “What a surprise. The prodigal wolf returns.”
Austin leaned his pool cue against the table and walked over to him. “You didn’t want me at the conference, so I didn’t know if you’d want me here. If you don’t, say the word.”
“Who didn’t want you at the conference?” Grant looked at him in surprise.
“I thought it was all of you. Although actually, when I think back on it, it was Cliff who called me and told me not to come. He suggested that my input wasn’t needed.” Austin raised an eyebrow. “Which was interesting, considering that I hunt down feral lone wolves for a living.”
Grant swore, shaking his head. “Fucking Cliff. Just when I think I can trust him… I had no idea, Austin. I thought you just didn’t want to come, which isn’t that unusual for you. And yes, if you and your pack are willing to stay here, I could use your help.”
He put his arm around Celeste, shaking his head. “Fucking hell,” he said irritably. “I just don’t know who to trust these days.”
Chapter Seventeen
Celeste stood in line at the coffee counter in downtown Somerville, feeling the familiar twist of tension in her gut. They were due in the courthouse for their final meeting with CPS in an hour.
She didn’t have any reason to be afraid. Reynaldo, Pete, Austin, Grant, Truman and Mandy were sitting at a table with Jeffrey. There were wolf shifters sitting outside in cars – there were fifteen vehicles in total accompanying them to and from the courthouse.
They were as well protected as a visiting statesman, but she couldn’t help but worry. The last time they’d headed home from the courthouse, they’d come close to losing Jeffrey.
“Excuse me.” An angry voice behind her made her turn around and frown. It was one of the coffee shop employees, a tall, lean, middle-aged woman with dirty blonde hair scraped back into a bun. A small plaque on her shirt read “manager”.
“Yes?” Celeste said, puzzled. Why was this woman angry? Celeste had never met her before.
“We told you if you came back again, we’d call the police.” The woman pointed at the door. “Get out.”
“I’ve never been here before,” Celeste said with annoyance.
“You were here yesterday.” The woman waved over a burly-looking barista. “She’s back. Call the cops. We’re pressing charges.”
“I didn’t even leave my house yesterday,” Celeste said, glaring at her. “But I’ll be happy to take my business elsewhere.”
“Wait,” the barista said to the manager. “You’ve got the wrong person. The lady who was in here yesterday? She didn’t have a scar.”
Celeste felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of freezing water on her. “The woman who was here yesterday…she…she stole something?”
