An American Werewolf in Hoboken (17 page)

And despite what the rest of the werewolf world thought, Max was damn proud of Cedar Glen. He fought hard to keep the abused weres and other supernatural outcasts safe from the harsh realities of other packs, and the world at large.

Somehow they’d managed to keep not only the discriminating packs out, but humans, too.

Not by force. They never used force unless it was absolutely necessary. Rather, they’d done it by owning all of the land, and passing it down from generation to generation. By buying up all the real estate so there was nothing here to see but stores run by locals. By providing absolutely no accommodation, thereby forcing visitors to travel forty miles to the next town over.

This allowed them commerce from humans, in their quaint stores and kitschy eateries, but kept them from considering an extended stay. They’d built a fortress—one Max felt the weight of every day since his father had literally disappeared.

Max took the beer Derrick handed him and sat down beside him on the steps. “Speaking of our bunch, didn’t I tell you to make sure everyone was upright for this visit with J? Beau and Hector were out in front of Mom’s gallivanting like they were in the werewolf parade, dude. JC wanted to know why they looked so much like her Fluffy.”

Derrick barked a sharp laugh. “I heard Lowell is Fluffy’s understudy this weekend. How much did that cost you?”

Now Max laughed. “A fuckton of beer and some cold, hard cash.”

“Why didn’t you just tell her from the start, man? Or at least stop pretending to be her dog.”

That was a very good question. “Seeing her cry when I ran away damn well killed me. I stayed in shift at the shelter because I was drugged and couldn’t shift back. But even as the drugs wore off, I knew she was going to show up there. When she actually did, everything just clicked. Who knew she’d become so attached to my ugly mug in just a day? She cried so hard, I thought she’d never stop when he—
I
disappeared. I knew she’d worry herself sick over him, and I couldn’t stand it. So I stayed Fluffy.”

“You’re going to be an indulgent mate, bro.”

“If indulging JC means she’s not heartbroken, I’m okay with it.”

“That’s pussy-whipped.”

Derrick thought any woman he dated longer than a month was trying to pussy-whip him, and he got out fast. “
No
. That’s thinking about your mate’s feelings, putting them before your own.” That was love.

Derrick’s eyes screamed skepticism. “So you really knew it was her? It’s true, you just know?”

“I really knew.” He really did.

Now his brother’s eyes went grim. “You ready for the big reveal?”

“I don’t know.” He really didn’t. He didn’t know anything. How did you tell the woman you loved you were a werewolf and you were going to die if she didn’t mate with you in the next week? Talk about putting the screws to someone.

“Mom told you what the elders hoped to achieve with this curse, right?”

Max nodded, watching the sun begin to set. Adams extinction. Fuck, he was sick of thinking about that word. “She didn’t have to. I’ve always known, I guess. I think I just didn’t want to believe they could be such assholes.”

“I don’t envy you, brother. That’s for sure. It would be different if JC were like us; at least she’d know the score. But to have to tell her you’re a werewolf and she has to hurry up and mate with you so you don’t end up dead? Hardcore.”

“I’m not just worried about me. I’m also worried about
you
, Derrick. You’re prophecy could come up at any time. What if I’m not here to help you figure it all out?” Jesus. How could he help Derrick through something like this if he was dead?

Derrick shrugged, as if his impending doom was no big deal, because that was just Derrick. He was a live-for-the-moment kind of guy.

But Max’s gut churned with fear for his brother. Who knew what kind of crap the elders would cook up for him? How hard would they make it for him to mate?

“Well, that’s not going to happen, because you’re going to tell JC everything. Don’t think about me right now. Let’s just focus on you,” he said.

“I’m not going to tell her the dead part, Derrick. No one is. Period. Got that?”

Derrick frowned at him. “You’re full of shit, right?”

Max shook his head, staring down at the ground. “Nope. It’s enough that I’m going to tell her I’m a werewolf. I’m not putting the kind of pressure the possibility of death would put on her. Not fair.” Certainly no way to start a relationship. He wanted JC to
want
to spend the rest of her life with him—just him. Werewolf or not.

“Dude!” Derrick shouted, his face angry and hard. “
You’ll die
. I’m not going to stand around and wait for you to die so you can be chivalrous, asshole.”

“Shut up, Derrick,” he growled, knocking his shoulder against his brother’s. “I won’t do it. We’ll get to that part if it comes to it. I refuse to hold her hostage. Am I clear?”

Derrick shoved him back with a palm to Max’s shoulder. “No. No, this isn’t clear! It’s like asking me to pretend I don’t know where the antidote to your deadly disease is. I won’t do it, Max, and I don’t give a shit if it’s an alpha order or not.”

Max turned to face him, his teeth clenched hard. “You
will
do it, Derrick. Under no circumstances will you speak a word of it. I don’t want a woman who stays with me because I’ll die if she doesn’t have my pups. It’ll only lead to resentment. When I do this, I do it my way. Don’t fuck with that or I’ll see to it come the full moon you frolic with a goddamn limp. Clear?”

Derrick narrowed his eyes. “What a shitty thing to ask me to do. To ask all of us to do. Tell JC or let you die. Nice, jackass.”

“I’ll handle it.” He would. He didn’t know how, but he damn well wasn’t going to let a woman tie herself to him for life via the threat of death.

“Very noble, brother. And in the meantime, if you don’t tell her and she tells you to piss off and you die because you’re too much brave warrior to tell her how to keep your stupid ass alive, I end up the alpha of this lot of nuts.” He pointed to where Jerry, Hector, and Beau rolled playfully in the grass.

To anyone else, they looked like a human and his dog wrestling.

Max eyed his cousin Jerry, his chest tightening. He loved them, all of them. He loved that all those years ago, his family had been compassionate enough to prevent their deaths, had decided to nurture and care for the weak and defenseless. But they weren’t your typical batch of weres. Not by any stretch of the imagination.

They were a blend of anomalies, misfits to the other packs.

Like poor Jerry. He just couldn’t shift like the rest of them. He got stuck halfway between human and wolf form, and nothing helped. So most of the time he wandered around in his human form, but when the moon was full, look out. Jerry was out there howling with the best of them—half man, half wolf.

No matter how hard he struggled, fists clenched and brow dripping with sweat, when he tried to fully shift, he ended up looking like he was constipated. There was nothing majestic about it.

Which in Max’s humble opinion was better than poor, neutered Beau. Some animal rights activists had captured Beau after he’d disobeyed Max’s strict order to never leave Cedar Glen. He’d woken up at a vet clinic a hundred miles away, “fixed.”

Max shifted in his seat uncomfortably thinking about it but according to Beau, he was okay with being neutered, because he was gay and planned never to reproduce.

And then there was Hector. Hector was a vegetarian who hated to hunt—unheard of in a were. But hunting the small animals of the forest “grossed him out,” as he put it, always followed with a visible shudder of distaste.

Instead, Hector adopted the bunnies—saved babies who’d lost their mothers, raised them as pets. He had an entire pen full, strictly off-limits to the rest of the pack.

Hector, and Jerry were the results of their alleged diseased ancestors, tainted in the eyes of the elders just because of the cruel experiments their grandparents endured, had no control over.

The rumor that eventually trickled down from his Aunt Eva was the elders had declared Hector’s unwillingness to hunt a defect. That he didn’t crave red meat and a good hunt was, in their eyes, an abomination. Because all good weres hunted.

And Beau…he’d never survive in another pack, where homophobia ran rampant and a mate was one of the most crucial pieces to keeping a pack strong.

Reproduction was the name of the game, according to the elders. A game Beau wanted no part of. And that was fine by Max. He didn’t care who Beau loved, just that someday he’d have the chance to do so, with the protection of the people here in Cedar Glen.

The three of them were also the lesser degree of those ugly experiments. There were plenty of pack members still alive from those horrific days who suffered far worse than the lack of will to hunt or the urge to nurse a bunny back to health rather than eat it.

Unfortunately, the hope that those damaged werewolf genes would dim as time went by, that maybe they would eventually be bred out of the line, never came to fruition. Each were affected continued to breed children considered “defective” by everyone but the people right here in Cedar Glen.

Yet, they continued to live happy lives because of the Adams’ determination. They created families—families that would never fit the ludicrous description the elders found suitable, but families Max would protect ’til the end because he loved them, and he’d taken measures to see to their safety at all costs.

What scared him most of all was the careless disregard by the elders for those who’d been experimented on, those who’d been so cruelly tortured.

They didn’t care that the abused weres had no choice in the matter. They didn’t care that they’d been captured and treated like guinea pigs. Thinking they were safe after their rescue, those wolves were actually considered nothing more than tainted and, in the eyes of the elders, should have been eradicated to prevent spreading their “ailments”.

His grandparents had done the right thing in protecting them back then. Max wanted nothing to do with a pack that kicked you when you were down. Or maybe a better phrase was, killed you because you didn’t fit their ideal.

Derrick knocked knees with him, a sign he’d simmered down. “I don’t want to be alpha, brother. You know that. I’m not as patient as you. I’m not nearly as good at keeping this bunch of knuckleheads from tearing each other’s throats open. But if it comes to that, I’ll take care of them.
Always
.”

Max swallowed some of his beer, his throat tight from Derrick’s admission. “Appreciate it.”

Derrick suddenly dropped his beer and jumped up, his gaze sweeping his front lawn. “Jerry!” he yelled.

Hector looked up and smiled at them, holding a small bunny, proudly displaying him to Derrick as Jerry crept behind him.

“Do not touch that bunny, Jerry! Hear me? One piece of fur flies and I’ll kick your ass!” Derrick bellowed.

Jerry backed off immediately as Hector cradled his beloved rabbit, stroking its head and whispering something in its floppy ear.

Max, even in the midst of his misery, couldn’t help but chuckle. “Look at you mediating. Aside from the threat of bodily harm, you’d make a good alpha.”

Derrick snorted. “If you leave me here to deal with this bunch, I’ll hunt you down in the afterlife, brother. So you’d better make yourself irresistible to that woman. Because I can’t do this alone. I don’t want to do this without you.”

He didn’t want to have to do it without Derrick either.

Ever.

Chapter Fifteen

Giggling coming from the family room made Max stop just outside the entryway as he watched JC with his sisters Avery and Natalie, sitting on his mother’s big beige couch, chatting and laughing. He liked seeing JC here in his mother’s house. He liked the way she blended in seamlessly.

He wanted to see her naked in
his
house, on his bed. In front of his fireplace, the soft curves of her body silhouetted in the firelight. In his shower, soapy and slick.

JC was threading her fingers through Avery’s thick curtain of blue-black hair and holding strands of it up to the light shining through the bay window. “I have the most amazing conditioner, should take care of those split ends in no time flat. I’ll grab some from my bag when I get a chance. I never go anywhere without it.”

Natalie caught him watching from behind them and waved him in, hopping off the couch to give him a hug. Pretty and young, she was the mirror image of their mother, and by far the easiest going of his siblings.

“Big brother! Good to see you. You look awesome. City living must agree with you.”

He gave Nat a hug, smiling down at her. “I see you’ve met JC.”

Avery grabbed him around the neck and dropped a kiss on his cheek.
She
, on the other hand, was temperamental and argumentative—especially with him. “So, we’re loving your girlfriend, Max. Maybe even more than we like you. She’s definitely prettier.”

He laughed. “Can’t argue that. So, have you been telling her all your Max-is-a-sucky-big-brother horror stories?”

JC turned and knelt on the couch to face him. “I know all your dirty little secrets now, Adams.”

As if.

He held out a hand to her. “Wanna see my house?”

“I thought you lived in your mother’s basement, where you collected the human skins of your victims and played video games all day?” she teased, grinning that grin he’d come to look forward to at the end of a day.

Avery burst out laughing. “I like her, big brother. I call JC gets to stay forever.”

Nat chuckled along with her sister. “I concur. Now go show her your vast collection of skins and we’ll see you guys at dinner, okay?”

“Vast?” JC asked with a conspiratorial giggle.

Max rolled his eyes at his sisters. “You two, don’t scare her off before I can get her alone. I can’t collect skins if you chase my victims away before I have the chance to woo them to my lair.”

Raucous laughter followed them as Max led JC through the family room and out the front door.