Page 36 of Broken

Chapter 15

Thanatos said, “Mr. Hunter. I would prefer she remain at the house.”

Meaning his mansion halfway down the mountain. As usual, it was an order, not a request.

Ireland eyed Thanatos and growled. Cole sighed. He was also in no mood for being diplomatic with Thanatos, or anyone else. But then, when was he ever?

He said to Thanatos, “If you try to keep her in the Big House, she’ll freak. She already thinks you’re some kind of evil monster sorcerer, and since we don’t know what the fuck you actually are, I’m not in a position to reassure her.”

Thanatos didn’t answer, but Cole could swear he felt an ominous rumble in the earth under his feet.

Cole went on, undeterred. “If you ever want her to be in a position where she can speak coherently with a human mouth, and be in any way willing to help you, I suggest you let me take her home and get her calmed down so she can Change back.” He hoped.

There was a long, heavy silence, and then Thanatos said, “Very well.”

Cole, with his mouth already open to present another argument, was taken aback for a second. Then he turned to Ireland, who was pressing against his leg, still growling faintly. “Come on. Let’s go.” He couldn’t wait to get back to his own little semi-quiet corner of the world—the cabin up by the explosives testing field he shared with Boomer.

But it seemed that wasn’t happening. As he started to go, Breanna Carter—the Outlaw Ridge administration manager—shouldered her way through the crowd.

“Not so fast, Bro,” she said. “You can’t take her home. Where did you think she was going to sleep? The foot of your bed?”

Good point. Their cabin was a one-bedroom, and Boomer and Karisma had that. Cole, being a minimalist who liked to take up as little space as possible, slept on a mattress in the corner of the workroom. When he wasn’t spending the night in a hammock on the porch, or in wolf form running in the forest.

Breanna rolled her eyes. “You didn’t even think about it, did you. You are such a dork.”

“It’s been a long day,” he said. “And I’ve understood very little of it. Excuse me if the domestic arrangements slipped my mind. Isn’t that what we have you for?”

“An obnoxious dork,” she amended. “You all do not appreciate everything I do for you.”

“We totally don’t,” he agreed. Breanna was a friend—or at least, as close to a friend as Cole had. Ever since Boomer had barged into her cabin not long after she’d arrived, and she’d found out he was just as much of a fan of paranormal teen TV shows as she was, she’d taken both Boomer and Cole under her wing.

Okay, possibly he and Boomer were both fans of those shows, although Cole steadfastly denied it.

He asked Breanna, “So now, who’s sleeping at the foot of whose bed?”

“You’re sleeping at the foot of hers,” she informed him. “Assuming she wants you in her cabin at all. Switch called ahead to warn me you were bringing a rescue back—which is more than any of the rest of you idiots did—and I got one of the new guest cabins ready. It only has one bedroom, though, and one bed, which you’re going to give her, because of the gentleman you are.”

Boomer made gagging sounds.

Cole said, “When did you ever know me to sleep anywhere but the floor?” Last night had been an exception. Usually his wolf didn’t like to sleep with space underneath them that they couldn’t see. Anything could be under there. Mice. Monsters. Bombs. Boomer.

“Good point,” she said. “We can bring in another mattress for you, if you want. And by we, I mean Boomer.”

“That would be good. All I really care about, though, is if there’s coffee.”

“Of course. And food. And also cookies.” Breanna made the best chocolate chip cookies anywhere ever.

He felt a tiny smile curving his mouth. “You’re a good woman, Breanna.”

“Better than you yahoos deserve.” But she touched his arm affectionately and smiled at him. Breanna was good people, and she loved the pack. The gods only knew why.

She told them which cabin it was, and Cole said to Boomer, “Could you bring me a change of clothes too?” He thought a moment, and then added, “And also whiskey.” He definitely was going to need that.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Boomer said. “Caviar? Champagne? Anything else?”

Cole flipped him off. Which he knew Boomer knew meant, “Thanks, and also fuck you.” Then he handed off one of the bags he was carrying to Thanatos’ security escort. He said to Thanatos, “This is the miscellaneous stuff we got off the Retrievers that attacked Ireland and Riker. It should probably go in your magic safe somewhere. Have fun with it.”

He readjusted his own bag, along with Ireland’s—the one with her books in it. He hoped Thanatos couldn’t sense their magic, although to Cole’s new magical spidey-senses, they seemed to be flashing like a neon sign.