fate of the alpha - episode 2 (4 page)

“Sorry,” Cressida went blessedly silent, leaving Ainsley to her own thoughts.

Erik had said he was going to talk to MacGregor, but Mac showed up alone. Much as Ainsley didn’t want to think about it, Cressida probably had a point. Ophelia had been looking at Erik like he was the last bacon wrapped shrimp.

If she made a move, would Erik flat out refuse her? Could he?

She wished she knew the answers, but she didn’t know enough about wolves. And she damned sure wasn’t going to ask Cressida.

Ainsley picked up the pace, and Cressida sauntered along agreeably.

The night air was beyond crisp, it was getting a sharp edge of actual cold. The new neighbors on Princeton had put out Halloween decorations. A breeze caught the sleeve of the scarecrow in the front yard and waved it in an eerily realistic greeting.

By the time they had crossed Yale and passed the construction site, the kiss of moonlight on Ainsley’s skin was beginning to drive her to madness. When the woods were in sight she began to run.

Cressida followed without question. They crashed through the trees, moonlight filtering through to tease them to new speeds.

When they reached the edge of Erik’s grassy field Ainsley slowed. Cressida touched her hand respectfully to Ainsley’s shoulder. When Ainsley stopped, Cressida began to run her hands through Ainsley’s hair.

For a brief, confused moment, Ainsley thought Cressida was asking her to assuage the need the moon was stoking in them both.

Then Cressida’s nails brushed her scalp and she realized her friend was simply grooming her. A good idea too, Ainsley wouldn’t want Ophelia to see she had scrambled through the woods at a break-neck pace after a fight for her life. Ophelia was here to make sure Ainsley had everything under control. Ainsley needed to at least appear that she did.

Ainsley submitted to Cressida’s attentions to her hair, and even allowed her to stroke her mouth with a peppermint Chapstick she’d fished out of her bra. But when Cressida forgot herself and repeated the motion of the spicy lip balm against Ainsley’s lips, longing dancing in her eyes, Ainsley pushed her hand away and kept walking.

Cressida fell behind her obediently and kept up the pace.

As they approached Erik’s front porch, a male figure appeared, silhouetted in the porch light. He was hunched over and walking fast.

Not Erik.

It was Justin, one of the two boys who had been lackeys of Clive’s but had come back to the pack to serve Ainsley. He looked like a deer in the headlights tonight. He even averted his gaze when she passed him.

Ophelia was lounging on the porch sofa, straightening up her clothing at a leisurely pace. The smell of sex was thick in the air and it kicked Ainsley’s hunger up a notch. Fighting her desire was annoying, but at least Ophelia hadn’t been with Erik.

Where was Erik?

Ainsley could always sense her mate when he was near. Had she lost scent of him because his wolf was gone?

Ophelia sat up and reached for a tiny mother-of-pearl compact that was sitting on Erik’s coffee table along with a bottle of black nail polish and a vial of some sinister looking perfume. Studying herself in the small mirror, she applied a dab of powder to her already ghostly white skin. Then she began to talk softly.

“I’m so glad you came around to my point of view about Copper Creek. I only wish I’d gotten a chance to get to know Erik a little more intimately before you sent him away. The level of performance I just tolerated is unacceptable. I will require the services of someone a little more experienced tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll find an appropriate companion for me.”

Ainsley’s wolf snapped at the bars. She imagined what Ophelia’s blood would taste like as she ripped that pale throat out.

Once again, Cressida’s warm hand caressed her shoulder.

“Will you be requiring my services further this evening, my alpha?”

Ainsley took a breath and let Cressida’s touch evaporate just the edge of the fury she felt.

“No. That will be all.”

Ophelia leaned forward to catch Cressida’s eye and then deliberately run her gaze up and down the girl’s body. “Don’t go far.” She smiled like a woman in a hair shampoo commercial and Ainsley felt her blood boil again. This was her
pack
, not a brothel.

“Yes, Councilman,” Cressida purred. But as she pulled her hand off Ainsley’s shoulder she ran it downward and gave Ophelia the middle finger repeatedly against Ainsley’s back.

Ainsley hoped that Cressida’s seductive smile was enough to distract the councilwoman from her own twitching lip.

“
S
O
.” Ophelia turned back to her compact as Cressida trotted down the porch steps. “I hear there was some trouble this evening?”

Fuck.

Ainsley definitely did not want to tell Ophelia about the magic. And she didn’t want to seem threatened either.

“It was just a little dust up,” she said lightly. “We ended up recruiting a new member.”

“That’s good.” Ophelia closed the compact with a snap and turned her full attention to Ainsley. “It’s one of our areas of concern. This pack is dwindling. There are no cubs. You need to find a way to infuse it with some new blood.”

There certainly had been no shortage of blood earlier.

“We also expect some bumps in the road with any transition,” Ophelia continued. “But you need to keep things running as smoothly as possible. Even a little ‘dust up’ could attract unwanted attention. You need to protect your pack by maintaining a low profile.”

Ophelia gazed at Ainsley with those unblinking obsidian eyes. She seemed to want a response, but Ainsley had no idea what she was supposed to say, so she nodded.

“That will get tricky with new construction, Ainsley. You need to be up for the job. We would rather disband this pack than risk being outed to the public.”

Ouch.

But Ainsley had to admit she was actually right. And the magical stuff was out of control too. What if someone had come walking up Princeton during that fight?

Ophelia seemed satisfied to see that she was taking things seriously.

“Tomorrow night is the full moon.” She gave Ainsley a small smile. “We will run together.”

Shit. Tomorrow.

What were they going to do about Sadie?

Ainsley was pretty sure Ophelia would know whether or not Sadie would shift. But she could see already it was better not to ask.

Clearly, the Federation wouldn’t want to entrust a pack to an alpha who let one of her own into an out of town hospital in a coma.

CHAPTER 7

E
rik made his way back out to the truck. When he got in, he realized the envelope with his ID and papers was clenched so tight in his fist it was crumpling.

He threw it on the seat next to him and looked over at it like it was alive. Son of a bitch. How was he going to do this?

It was probably best just to power through. He backed slowly out onto Main Street, and prayed the Millers’ house wasn’t up one of those ninety degree driveways he’d seen on the way in.

He passed a Rite Aid - the first sign of any franchise. Without any fanfare, the little town ended and he was following the creek around a curve on Main. He turned left over a bridge - more the suggestion of a bridge, really, hanging merrily above the creek without guard rails or expansion joints. The side of the mountain edged so close, it was practically touching the passenger side door. On the driver’s side, the creek separated the road from a row of 1920’s bungalows. He passed the Millers’ house and circled around taking another small bridge to get to it.

He squeezed into a small spot in the front of the house, right along the retaining wall for the creek. Erik tried not to imagine all the misfortunes that could befall the F150. Instead, he hopped out and climbed the stairs to the front porch of the little white bungalow.

A beautiful wooden bench and matching wooden swing faced each other on opposite sides of the porch. They looked handmade. In between them, an army of baby dolls and bicycles choked the grassy green astroturf rug.

Erik knocked gently on the front door. The sound of little feet inside thundered toward him.

“Ruth, Rachel, Zeke, only grown-ups get the door!” A woman’s tired voice cut through the hubbub.

The door opened with a click to reveal the speaker, LeeAnn. She looked to be in her mid-thirties, with light brown hair to her shoulders. To her credit, she was dressed and made up, with a clean sweatshirt and jeans. Erik wasn’t sure he’d be able get himself together if Ainsley were trapped in a mine.

Two little girls peeked around her legs. One sported two ponytails, the other had one.

“I’m Erik, Erik Jensen. The sheriff said you had a room to rent?” He tried to make himself look less imposing than usual and as a result probably came off a little weird.

“Oh, okay. Hi. I’m LeeAnn. Girls, please let go of my legs so we can show this gentleman the spare room.”

“It’s NOT a spare room. It’s MY room!” an angry little voice said from inside the house.

“Sorry about Ezekiel. He’s worried about his daddy. Are you in town to help with that?”

Erik swallowed past the lump in his throat, “Yes, I’m here to try.”

“Are you a drill specialist?”

Oh fuck.

“Nope, I’m a psychologist.” The lie was already getting easier. “When the men come out of the mine they may need help to adjust back to their every day life.”

She nodded, looking about as sold on the concept as he was.

After an awkward moment she said, “Well, come on in. We’ll show you the room.”

Erik followed her into a small but immaculately clean living room. A large, boxy television showed
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
.

LeeAnn led him down a small hallway and up a steep flight of stairs. Oddly enough, the upstairs reminded him of his own house.

In the first bedroom, a teenaged girl with a blonde ponytail and large glasses sat on a double bed, her nose in a book.
Catcher in the Rye
. Ha. Erik had loved that when he was about her age. Fifteen going on thirty.

“Mom, could you
knock
?” she cried.

“Mary, this is Erik Jensen,” she turned suddenly to Erik, who nearly fell down the stairs. “Or is it Dr. Jensen?”

“Erik is fine.”

“Dr. Jensen is going to be staying with us a while,” she continued. “He’s here to help with the mine.”

“Okay,” Mary said with a hint of incredulity as she studied Erik’s outfit.

“Good book,” Erik said.

Mary peered at him suspiciously through the glasses, no doubt scanning the comment for sarcasm, then slowly nodded. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

LeeAnn had already headed through the adjoining door to the second bedroom. Erik followed.

The room was simple: a bed with a
Star Wars
comforter, a dresser, a built-in bookshelf over the window covered with action figures in homemade dioramas.

“Give me half an hour to clean up and bring fresh linens and it’s yours,” LeeAnn said. “Twenty-five dollars a day and I’ll give you breakfast.”

“I don’t want your little guy to lose his room,” Erik said. “I’ll pay the same to sleep on the couch.”

“Doc,” LeeAnn smiled sadly. “I wouldn’t share this, except I know in your line of work you’ll understand. Ezekiel feels like he’s the man in the family right now. So even though he’s scared with his daddy gone, he can’t ask to sleep with his sister. You being here to take the room is a godsend, believe me.”

Erik nodded, not trusting himself to speak. After all, what could he say? He tried to think of a way to deflect the conversation, but his hesitation quickly grew into an awkward silence.

“I’ll go grab a few things in town - be back in an hour, okay?” he said finally, walking through the door and remembering too late that there was no hallway and he was in Mary’s room again.

“Sorry, Mary! I forgot to knock,” he said.

“That’s alright, Erik,” she replied, adjusting her glasses self-consciously to peek at him from behind her book, then looking away quickly with reddening cheeks.

Perfect. A school girl with a crush.

Why did the universe seem to be conspiring against him at every turn?

CHAPTER 8

A 
insley paced the covered back porch of her childhood home, waiting for Cressida.

She had always loved the peacefulness of the backyard, with its tall trees and white picket fence, but tonight Ainsley couldn’t relax. The late afternoon air was crisp and cool. Sunset was coming earlier and earlier as the seasons changed. Soon it would be dark. They didn’t have much time.

Javier was raking leaves. The rhythm of his raking had subconsciously adjusted to match Ainsley’s pacing. His muscles bunched and stretched under the white t-shirt of Erik’s she had given him to wear. With each sweep of the rake, red and yellow leaves swirled and settled into the gigantic pile he was accumulating on a burlap tarp.

Ainsley tried not to allow herself to pretend it was Erik out there. It was strange to be suddenly sharing space with a new wolf. In some ways she longed for privacy to mourn Erik’s loss. At least Javier was forcing her to focus on the present.

And he certainly was making himself useful.

Ainsley knew Javier was grateful to her for taking him in. He had been fixing odds and ends around the old house all day. She’d almost sprained her wrist opening the door to the third floor tonight. It had always been loose and needed a really good twist to open. Somehow Javier had coaxed the old bronze knob into proper alignment and now it turned firmly, like other knobs. Ainsley wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or worried.

What would he do when he ran out of household jobs?

She wondered if he was concentrating on housework to distract himself from the teasing pull of the moon. Though he had given Ainsley every hint that he wanted to serve her completely, she had so far refused him and evaded any questions about it. She didn’t relish telling him, or anyone, that although she was alpha, she wanted to be faithful to a mate who was gone, and wasn’t a wolf anymore anyway.