Authors: Vivian Arend
Tags: #Paranormal Romance, #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Suspense
“I expected you would conduct your research somewhere in Georgia, not in the middle of nowhere, hundreds of miles from home.”
Gem tucked her phone into the crook of her neck and awkwardly held it in place. She’d even surprised herself with the radical idea. Finding a research topic that forced her to go to the Yukon?
She’d anticipated he’d be upset.
“I know you’ll miss me, but everything will be fine. It’s three weeks, four at the tops, and I’ll have the information needed to finish my paper. Plus, this project should give me a good shot at getting that job with the company you approved of.”
“You don’t need to work.” His change of tack was a resumption of the oldest argument they’d ever had, starting well before her mother had passed away.
Gem hopped on one foot as she pulled on new silk stockings. “I’m not having that discussion, Daddy, so stop. I’ll be home within the month. If you want to contact me, use email. Otherwise, please, let me do this? I am capable, of this and more.”
The alternative was to admit she was nothing but a piece of spoiled fluff like she’d overheard her fellow students declare. It wasn’t true—there was so much they didn’t know about her, things that she chose to go along with simply to keep the peace. But now? She had to see this project through to the end.
Her father sighed, long suffering in his tone. “Yes, Gemmita, I’ll let you go. I want you to phone me the instant you need anything, you understand? Anything. What the hell good is having money if I can’t use it to make sure you’re comfortable and happy?”
She forced a laugh. “I love you. I’m going to enjoy every minute of the adventure, okay? And I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.”
She blew him a kiss then scrambled to tuck the phone away and finish getting dressed. Only, what should she wear? At home, meeting an Alpha was a formal event, with all the highest-level pack in
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attendance. Not to mention she had broken protocol—groveling could be a messy business if she didn’t set the right tone from the start.
Gem eyed the clothes she’d purchased for her upcoming fieldwork and wrinkled her nose. Nope.
Sturdy canvas and baggy cotton would not do. She dug deeper into the suitcase and went for the high-powered artillery, fingers crossed the Alpha was single and at least remotely interested in females.
Wrapping dazzled males around her little finger and making sure they weren’t aware of it was one area in which she had some experience.
16
Chapter Two
After half an hour in Evan’s office, Shaun was feeling better than he had in weeks. Months even. The liquor in the dusty bottle had been poured into teeny tiny glasses, and he’d shot back the first round in one toss. Evan’s brows hit the ceiling right about the time Shaun’s brain lit on fire.
“Most people sip it, dude.”
“Shit.” His throat was melting, his tonsils had incinerated. They might be able to figure out how old he was if there was anything left of his teeth to carbon date.
But now that it seemed a good ninety-five percent of his blood was pumping with that same fiery fluid, Shaun didn’t have a care in the world, or a discreet tongue in his head.
“I mean, life sucks. All my friends got mates, man. And I’m alone in the dark hangar with nothing but flipping my helicopter to keep me warm.”
Evan frowned. He started to speak a couple of times, stopping as if confused.
“Wassup?” Shaun’s tongue had grown thicker, and his words weren’t flowing so good. The windows wiggled in the walls.
Cool. He’d never seen windows do that before.
“You’re doing what to your helicopter?”
Shaun paused in confusion. It had to be the liquor. Evan had clearly lost his mind. “What?”
“You were flipping your helicopter.”
Was his Alpha going deaf? Such a sad thing to happen to such a young man. Shaun spoke slower, and trifle louder—just in case that would help. “I hit and fuck chopper, and fly hangars in the dark.” Evan nodded. One of those
go along with the crazy person—let’s not agitate him
nods. The fact Shaun had seen that kind of response so many times it was instantly recognizable kinda burned.
“I’m trying to imagine how the hell you’re masturbating that you call it a helicopter. Sounds painful.”
What in the world?
Shaun rushed to explain, even as his tongue tangled further. “No, no, I’m flying my hangar. Wait, I mean, I’m shitting in my hanging, ducking my flapping heli.” He slammed a hand over his mouth.
Damn
. His brain cells had melted into a lump of jelly. Or Jell-O. Wiggling neon Jell-O with raspberries floating in the middle layer…
He shook his head and attempted to focus both eyes on the same point. Nope—not happening. The room did one slow revolution counterclockwise, and he stared upward, expecting to spot a disco ball or something dangling from the ceiling to explain the sparkling lights flashing on the walls. Wolf metabolism
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usually dealt with alcohol in a quick and efficient manner. His didn’t seem to be working tonight. Shaun snatched the bottle off the table, the blue glass swelling and shrinking before his eyes. “What. The hell. Is this shit?”
Evan sprawled in his La-Z-Boy and took another sip. Every muscle relaxed, contentment oozed out from him like a cat that had fallen into a bucket of cream after tormenting the dog. “Moonshine, from my old pack. Doubles as rocket fuel.”
“
Fuckit
.” The room spun quicker. “Freak me out. I mean, get me drinked?”
“You may as well sit and be quiet for a bit.” Evan peered at him, shaking his head in disgust. “Here I thought you could hold your liquor. Sad. Sad state of affairs.” Shaun would have argued, but right now there was this super interesting crack in the ceiling that grew, sprouting mosaic arms of purple and chartreuse. He leaned back in his chair to get a better view, reaching down to tug the recliner arm and raise the footrest, like he’d seen Evan do.
The next minute these really cool glowing lights were dancing in front of his eyes.
“Shaun, that’s not a recliner.”
Shaun reached to his side and tapped. Solid wood boards met his fingers. His back was well supported, legs stretched out. The room now spun in the opposite direction. “Did I fall down?”
“And you can’t get up again.”
“Cool. I’ll just…you know, hang out for a bit. Okay with you?” Evan laughed. “Sure. Only next time? Sip the ’shine, got it?”
“No prob.”
It was kind of comfy on the floor. Evan rose and lit the fire, warmth pouring from the hearth to pool past where Shaun lay.
“Hey, did you…” Shaun lost track of the words. Why was he here again?
It wasn’t because he was bored. No, he was sure there were plenty of things he was supposed to do.
He had Maxwell’s Silver Hammer, the aviation company he co-owned with a buddy. A full summer schedule approaching where he’d be busy providing helicopter trips over the most beautiful part of the world. Sightseeing and supply dumps, and the occasional medical emergency—he did them all. So why did he feel like crap?
Oh. Right. His friends were deserting him.
“You ever get lonely, Evan?” Shaun scrambled to his feet then held out his glass to his Alpha who carefully poured him another two fingers’ worth. Shaun eyed his chair, the one on the floor, and decided the couch appeared a trifle more sturdy.
“I find it fascinating what topics I hear when I serve the good stuff. No, Shaun, I’m never lonely. I have all the pack around. And friends, like you. Although, I’m not sure why I’m trying to talk to you 18
Black Gold
anymore. You’re so pissed right now I could tell you anything I want and you’ll never remember a word in the morning.”
“Really?” His hand shook. The liquid in his glass sloshed and Shaun lapped the spilt alcohol off his fingers carefully. It wouldn’t do to make a mess in his Alpha’s office. “Then tell me big secrets, man. The kind of stuff you don’t share with anyone, but think about when you’re all alone…”
sniff
“…alone. Like me. Fuck.”
There was a reason he wasn’t supposed to do this, but he couldn’t remember the specifics. He held the glass to his lips and tossed his head back. An icy sensation bled down his throat, seconds before the cold morphed into daggers stabbing his brain from the inside out.
“Shaun! Damn fool, that’s it, you’re cut off.”
The glass disappeared from his fingers. The same fingers that glowed in a wonderful Aurora Borealis imitation. It was as if all the flames he’d consumed were attempting to escape from his body through his skin.
The visuals were either very cool or very creepy.
The cushions of the couch reached up fluffy fingers to cradle him tighter, and Shaun sighed. Evan’s face appeared in his line of vision, the man’s dark hair waving as he shook his head.
“I know it’s strong, but, damn. You have the worst tolerance for moonshine of any shifter I’ve ever met.” Evan hauled a chair over, the feet screeching on the wooden floor. The shiver up Shaun’s spine exploded out his ears.
“Ouch.”
Evan leaned back and crossed his arms. He cupped his chin for a moment then dropped his hand to point at Shaun.
“You know what your problem is? You don’t have a mission.”
“I need a mission?”
Cool
. Didn’t know that was a requirement of the Takhini pack.
“Something to give you a reason to get up in the morning. Shaun, I’ve watched you since you settled back in Whitehorse. You’re listless. You fight if you have to, but you don’t enjoy it, not even when you win.”
“I always win.”
Evan nodded. “Of course you do, because you’re a strong wolf. But you succeed without even trying.
It’s easy for you to win against the punks who come to try you. The more experienced wolves avoid you—
they know you’re strong, even if you are a little stupid.”
“Hey—”
“Because you’re not fighting to become a leader in the pack. You’re simply fighting to fight.” Evan shook his head and that finger popped out again. Shaun tried tracking the shaking object, but he found it damn near impossible to tell which was the real finger amongst the liquor haze.
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Okay, this was interesting, but a bit too much like therapy.
“I don’t want your job,” Shaun blurted out. Hell would be preferable to run. At least demons were predictable, unlike wolves who were endlessly creative in coming up with new mischief to try.
“You don’t want my job.” Evan shot back, his confidence screaming out.
Shaun hesitated. “Did we already have this conversation? It sounds familiar.”
“You don’t want to be Alpha, Shaun. You’d have to actually give a damn about someone then.” Ouch. The words percolated through the alcohol haze, and a thin line of cold ran up his core. “What a fucker of a comment. If I’m that much of an asshole, why did you let me return to the pack?”
“Because at the root of it, you’re only an asshole because you don’t give a damn about yourself right now either, and I’m getting annoyed at your stupid refusal to grow up.”
Okay, that was one step too far
. “And did you get this special bullshit training in Alpha school or—?” Suddenly Evan was right in Shaun’s face, and he couldn’t budge. Evan had him pinned in a neck hold, trapping his body against the couch. There was no air getting through his windpipe, and Shaun scrambled his fingers over Evan’s forearm. Stars appeared in front of his eyes, glowing even brighter than the mysterious Northern Lights clouding everything else in the room.
“Don’t mistake my tolerance for weakness.” Evan hissed in his ear. Dangerous. Shaun fought back as hard as possible and barely moved. Evan held him immobile. “You’re a damn good wolf, and I’m getting tired of seeing you waste your life. You don’t need to want to save the world, but you need to care enough to do what’s right for more than simply a lark.”
Blessed air flooded into his lungs as Evan released him, settling him back into the couch’s soft surface. Shaun stared at his Alpha, shocked nearly sober—well, maybe not that. Definitely chastised enough to remember a few manners, though.
“I’m…sorry.”
Evan shrugged. “I am too. I don’t usually lose my temper.” He retook his seat, sipping his moonshine as he stared into the fire. “You need to face it, Shaun. We’re wolves. We like having a pack around, but there are times it’s not the pack we long for.”
Fuck.
Shaun didn’t think he’d told anyone about the ache in his gut for a mate. For the feeling of truly belonging. “Have I been talking in my sleep or something?”
Evan shook his head, holding his glass up to the light after a quick sip. “Love it when this stuff kicks in and people lose track of whole threads of conversation. No, Shaun, you told me a few minutes ago.
You’re lonely. You’d give anything to find your mate. But in the meantime, you’re going to be the best damn wolf there is, and get off your ass and do something for someone else who can’t possibly repay you.” Shaun sniffed. “My God, I’m so charitable. Is that really what I said?” Evan leaned forward on his elbows and nodded seriously. “I was very impressed, my friend. And you said you would start right away.”
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“Awesome.”
Wow
. He had a purpose in life. A goal, and he was going to be a hero to…someone. His throat tightened with emotion—delight, determination…confusion. There was one trouble. The only things in his mind were the delightful pink and purple clouds morphing into elephants and crashing rhinos right before his eyes. “Did I tell you
what
I was going to do?”
“Not a word. Top secret, all that shit. But I’m sure you’ll let me know when it’s appropriate.”
“Cool.” Shaun relaxed back into the cushions. There was something so right about hanging out with Evan. “I love you, man.”
Evan choked on his drink, his face turning bright red as he coughed his lungs out for a second. His expression transitioned to one worthy of a long-suffering and indulgent older brother. “That’s great. Now I think you are ready to crash for the night.”