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  “Cinnamon,” I called, stopping him in the act. Then I shot a glance toward the empty building twenty feet away, hoping no one had heard me raise my voice. Shifter bars didn’t tend to open until dusk, so we had several hours to get Quill’s van back on the road before anyone else showed up.

  Or at least I hoped that was the case. Still, I’d feel better once we’d left the scene of last night’s mayhem behind.

  “What?” the trouble twin asked, turning toward me. As he did so, his hands unconsciously drifted closer together and I winced, expecting to see sparks flying at any moment.

  Then Lia had deftly removed the clips from Cinnamon’s hands. The younger teenager shot me a comforting smile as she opened the front passenger-side door of the VW, adeptly swiveling the seat out of the way then snapping the jumper cables into place. “You can fire up our car now,” she called softly to Cinnamon, who seemed a bit disappointed at having his toy taken away from him. Still, the easygoing shifter shrugged and obeyed.

  “You’ll keep an eye on him?” I asked Lia once Cinnamon was gone. It was common knowledge within our pack that the male trouble twin required constant human interaction if you didn’t want to wind up in the middle of an intricately designed practical joke. His younger cousin was the mischief maker’s designated babysitter this morning, and I hoped she was up to the job.

  “Sure,” Lia answered, gracing me with another gentle smile before she slipped away on near-silent feet.

  My mouth quirked in a combination of pride and regret. Ever since this morning’s battle, I’d noticed the girl’s lupine half present behind her human eyes, giving Lia a dignity she hadn’t previously possessed. As an alpha, it was immensely satisfying to see the two halves of an underling’s personality growing together. As a halfie, though, I had to admit to being slightly jealous of the ease with which Lia accepted her wolf.

  Look, my own wolf said simply, reminding me that she wasn’t quite asleep at that particular moment either. At her behest, I turned back around to find Quill subtly drifting into my personal space. He wasn’t quite close enough that I could politely slap him down, but he was still a little nearer than I would have liked. So I took a step backwards and diverted whatever the cowboy shifter had been thinking about by launching into my prepared spiel.

  “So, if you still want to travel with us, the pack voted you in,” I told him. “It looks like you’re doing better than we are, though. And I totally understand if you’ve changed your mind now that you’ve gotten to know us better. We can just jumpstart your van and send you on your way with thanks if you’d rather. No harm, no foul.”

  What I was saying without spelling it all the way out was that I wasn’t going to be an asshole alpha about the whole thing if Quill had gotten cold feet after witnessing our defeat this morning. Pack leaders tended to be possessive of their manpower, unwilling to let anyone who’d sworn to their clan go without a fight. But I didn’t have the lupine dominance to back up that stance even if I’d wanted to.

  Another thing Quill doesn’t really need to know about us.

  “No, I’m in,” the cowboy shifter said almost too quickly. I cocked my head in consideration. Maybe he was lonelier than he looked—it was hard for our lupine natures to handle life outside a pack.

  Or maybe there was something else going on.

  “I noticed the way you looked at Ginger this morning,” I prodded. “She’s a bit of a tease....” Then I smothered a smile as the strong, buff cowboy shifter blushed bright red and averted his eyes.

  “Would you mind...?” he started, then tried a different tack. “Is she available?”

  Well, it looked like Ginger’s flirtations were good for something after all if they were going to win a strong shifter like Quill over to our side. Still, I didn’t want him thinking the trouble twin was a foretold benefit of joining our pack.

  “She is available,” I answered carefully. “But this isn’t the kind of clan where a pack leader’s permission holds any sway over who the members of that pack date. And Ginger seems to be having a lot of fun playing the field at the moment.”

  I didn’t know how else to warn our newest member that the female trouble twin was likely to love him and leave him. After all, I didn’t want to actually call my friend a slut because she really wasn’t. If Ginger had a theme song, it would be Girls just want to have fun. She never overtly promised anything she didn’t plan to deliver.

  “Fair enough,” Quill answered. “I just....”

  Before he could go on, though, my phone chimed and I held up one finger to pause our conversation. I wasn’t usually so rude, but Ginger and Glen were guarding the perimeter while also doing their best to leverage their online savvy to determine the identity of the halfie girl who had so recently been kidnapped. If anything showed on either search, I wanted to know about it right away.

  Sure enough, Ginger had texted me an update on her investigation: Girl is Savannah Abrams. Mother willing to talk to us this evening. Come to dinner, stay the night, she says. Yes/no?

  The twin had included an address about two hundred miles distant. That should give us just enough time to hunt down some lunch to round out this morning’s granola bars and beef jerky before hitting the highway.

  And if Mrs. Abrams lived east of here...well, I hadn’t actually promised Hunter that I’d head west, now had I?

  Yes. Thx, I keyed in quickly before turning back to my current companion with an apology on my lips.

  Once again, the cowboy shifter had drifted closer, this time so he could peer over my shoulder. “Anything important?” he asked, and I angled the phone so he could read Ginger’s words. Quill’s manners seemed a little less polished this morning than they had been the night before, but there was no point in keeping him in the dark since he’d know our itinerary soon enough anyway.

  “This is the halfie girl Hunter mentioned?” Quill asked after he’d read our exchange. When I nodded, he paused as if unsure how to word his next question.

  I had a feeling I knew what was on his mind, so I nudged him a little. “Spit it out,” I said. “You aren’t going to offend me.” I’d had fun forcing Hunter to stumble over his verbal feet around my half-blood heritage, but Quill seemed like a nice guy who just wasn’t sure what to say without raising my hackles. So I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

  “Is this whole pack...? Well, I mean, I know you and Lia are half-werewolves,” Quill said, “but I couldn’t tell about everyone else. Is that what you all have in common?”

  Nicely said. But while I could appreciate the cowboy shifter’s careful wording, his question didn’t entirely make sense. “You know a guy can’t really be a halfie, right?” I asked. Then I clarified: “I mean, to get technical on you, werewolfism is an X-linked, dominant trait. So guys either are shifters or they aren’t. Doesn’t matter who their parents are once they pass puberty and prove they can change forms. It’s just female half-bloods who give birth to human children and show hybrid characteristics.”

  “Well, yeah, but....”

  I could tell Quill was more of the school of thought that anyone whose parents weren’t both 100% shifter was a halfie. Among his friends, he probably called humans “meat” too.

  The old-fashioned sentiments annoyed me, but they were understandable since most shifters felt the same way. Not a deal breaker for him joining our pack, I told myself. After all, everyone was a creature of their environment and anyone could be taught.

  So I gave Quill what he wanted to know. “No, Glen’s a pure-blood,” I told him. “And even though you wouldn’t believe it from watching his antics, Cinnamon can trace his ancestry back to the first wolf, or close to it. Which makes Ginger a pure pack princess, of course.”

  Then I decided I might as well push a little further. After all, I’d answered Quill’s nosy question, which made this a perfect opportunity for a not-so-polite query of my own. “So what’s the deal with you being in outpack territory anyway?” I continued before the cowboy shifter could derail t
he conversation. “You seem like a nice guy, a strong shifter; any pack would be lucky to have you. Why wander the cold outside world with the rest of us?”

  For a moment, I thought Quill wouldn’t answer. Then his eyes took on a faraway cast and his lips turned down into an expression of pure melancholy. “My mate,” he said finally, and I could easily fill in the blanks as the story tumbled off his lips in stops and starts.

  The parts he left out were simple to guess because I’d heard the same tale many times before. Werewolf packs made for lots of Romeo-and-Juliet unions—either you fell in love with a mate in an enemy clan or you ached for someone too far above or below your own station for your alpha to approve the union. Some shifters sucked it up and did whatever their leader told them to, accepting a second-best spouse. Others—like Quill, apparently—eloped, dreaming that they’d be able to carve out a place for themselves beyond the borders of sanctioned pack territories.

  “But it was a stupid move,” the cowboy shifter finished. “Faye’s brothers caught up with us before we’d been outpack for three weeks. I thought the worst they’d do was rip her away from me, which would have been bad enough. But they decided to make an example of their own sister instead.”

  He paused, and turned away, probably fighting the tears I’d seen welling up in his eyes at the memory. And I immediately felt like an asshole for making him relive the experience. Still, if Quill was joining our little clan, then I needed to know what kind of dangers were coming along on his coattails.

  So I prodded my companion’s tale along when the history lesson appeared to have petered out. “What happened?”

  “I wasn’t strong enough to protect her,” the cowboy shifter replied, squaring his shoulders and looking me straight in the eyes this time around. “They pushed me aside and leaped on their own flesh and blood in wolf form....” His words trailed off and he gulped back a sob.

  “They killed her,” I murmured. It was a terrible story with a predictable ending, but the upshot was actually good for our pack. If Faye’s brothers had taken their revenge, then they wouldn’t be out pounding the pavement in an attempt to take Quill down. We could safely give the cowboy shifter a home in our transient pack without worrying that his not-quite-in-laws would come slavering for our blood as well.

  “Yeah,” my companion confirmed in a whisper. “They killed her.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and when he spoke his words were once again firm and easy to hear. “But I’m not going to let that happen a second time. If I find another mate—or even if I don’t—I’ll be strong enough to protect the people I care about.”

  I won’t let you down. The words hung in the air, unsaid but implied. And if I’d had any doubts about letting Quill into our clan in the past, the misgivings were washed away in the face of his selflessness and confidence.

  The trouble was, I wasn’t nearly as confident that I’d be able to protect the pack Quill was becoming a part of. And, as an alpha, that responsibility rested firmly on my shoulders.

  Chapter 11

  “Deer for lunch again?” Ginger grumbled. Still, she was the first to shed her human clothes as we tumbled out of our two vehicles in the secluded pull-off a few miles into the national forest.

  Of course, the trouble twin’s alacrity at disrobing might have been due to enthusiasm at the opportunity to parade around naked in front of our pack’s newest member once again rather than excitement at the prospect of yet another catch-your-own dinner. But who was I to complain about someone else’s overactive hormones when I couldn’t seem to get that absent uber-alpha’s amber eyes out of my mind?

  Ginger appeared to be better at attracting her intended quarry than I was because Quill’s gaze immediately drifted south, caressing the trouble twin’s curvy form. But her prey’s attention didn’t remain riveted for more than a moment before he returned to fidgeting with the cell phone in his pocket.

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t just stop at a sit-down restaurant along the way so we can get to our destination faster?” Quill asked after a moment of strained silence. “My treat.”

  The rest of the pack paused in their pre-shift preparations, hungry eyes flicking between our newest member and my indecisive face. Their wolves were all wide awake now, and I saw Cinnamon lick his lips in an almost lupine gesture of anticipation. The trouble twin would be thrilled at the opportunity to order meat that came skinned and deboned, and I couldn’t really say I didn’t feel the same way. On the other hand, Quill had no idea how much food five young-adult shifters could eat if he thought his funds would hold up to many restaurant outings for the entire pack.

  “That’s nice of you to offer,” I said, letting him down gently. “But it’s probably better to save that nest egg for when we really need it. Plus, look,” I added, gesturing at the nearby trees that displayed a browse line of absent greenery for the first six feet above the ground. “Any biologist will tell you that we’re doing our civic duty by filling in for absent predators and culling the local deer herd.”

  “Yeah, that’s us, always looking out for the greater good,” Ginger murmured. I could tell she was more annoyed at Quill’s lack of attention to her naked body than at the lost restaurant opportunity, though, and I resolved to pull the young woman aside later and let her know that our newest pack member had asked after her. I suspected the cowboy shifter’s current lack of interest was just due to discomfort as he tried to fit into a new group rather than to actual apathy toward the young woman’s enticing assets.

  But, for now, I decided it was better to get us all shifted and into the woods before the trouble twin in question got her panties into any more of a twist...and before a state trooper came along and decided to investigate half a dozen naked young people standing by the side of the road. “Quill?” I asked when the cowboy shifter continued to hesitate.

  “Just a minute,” he said, averting his eyes in what might have been submission or was perhaps just continued discomfort. “I’d planned to meet up with a friend when we hit town and I need to push back our appointment....”

  His voice trailed off and I shrugged. Hopefully whoever he was texting wouldn’t be too annoyed at being blown off. No point in our newest member breaking off all ties with the outside world as he started a fresh existence as part of our pack.

  He’s not a perfect fit, my wolf whispered in the back of my mind, interrupting the moment. She seemed obsessed with square pegs and round holes these days, but I was less concerned than the wolf was about this slight chink in Quill’s usually courtly armor. It wasn’t as if the rest of my pack mates had instantly fallen into line when we set off on the road together either.

  Just a week ago, in fact, Ginger had insisted in arguing against every single suggestion I made. And now...okay, so the trouble twin still argued against every suggestion I made. But I’d gotten used to her quirks, just as Quill would get used to the workings of our found family. My comrades and I weren’t quite as civilized as the average werewolf clan, maybe, but we had each other’s backs.

  The thought prompted me to scan the parking area and check on the state of everyone else’s shifts. As young as Lia was and a halfie to boot, it wouldn’t have surprised me if the girl needed help with her second human-to-wolf transformation of the day. But the kid seemed to be doing okay, even though she’d staked out a spot on the far side of the car rather than joining the rest of us in our little huddle.

  I raised my eyebrows in question as I watched the naked girl slowly sprout fur. In reply, she shot a glance toward Quill by way of explanation. Yeah, the teenager probably had a point, I thought as I pursed my lips and nodded. No reason to flaunt her nubile but unavailable body in front of a shifter who hadn’t yet entirely fallen in with our pack’s casual approach toward nudity.

  Speaking of casual, there was such a thing as being too casual. Ginger—who I knew for a fact could shift at the drop of a hat—was still hovering a hair’s breadth away from the cowboy shifter, her two-legged form twisting and turning as she
tried in vain to capture the latter’s attention.

  I rolled my eyes and removed the sword I’d been wearing ever since that morning’s altercation, stuffing the sheathed weapon behind the back seat for safekeeping. I felt oddly naked without the blade, my still-present clothes making no impression when I lacked anything pointy and sharp with which to defend myself.

  You have me, promised my wolf, wide awake now that the prospect of finally donning her favored fur form was at hand.

  Sure, I soothed her. Like every other shifter, I felt the pull of being four-legged deep within my bones after staying human for so long. But in my case, the attraction was always tempered by the reality of being saddled with a woefully weak wolf.

  Our pack is strong, my wolf promised me. And I’ll do whatever you say.

  Of course she’d do what I said. That was the entire problem with our partnership in a nutshell—lack of leadership potential on the wolf’s part.

  Still, I quickly kicked off my shoes, then folded jeans and undies and tossed the whole pile of clothing onto the back seat with the rest of my pack’s apparel. Finally, taking a deep breath, I rejoined the other shifters—half of us already four-legged and the rest, even Quill, now naked.

  Everyone except Ginger appeared calm and collected as the onset of our hunt rapidly approached. Lia had padded around to join us and was now tussling with Cinnamon on the ground, the larger wolf letting our youngest member win despite her youthful lack of muscles. In contrast, Glen stood poised in lupine form, waiting for Quill to fall onto four legs before he relaxed his guard.

  And Ginger...Ginger was advancing on me with eyes flashing even as she slid covert glances at the cowboy shifter. The latter still hadn’t properly admired her visible assets and was instead watching me with hungry eyes, a definite slight that I knew the young woman wouldn’t let slide.