Head Above Water (Gemini: A Black Dog #2) (3 page)

She jerked her chin toward the imposing gunmetal wolf who stood like a king in the circle of flattened grass, gold eyes shining as he stared at me with hunger that made my skin crawl, and I realized I had made a mistake in assuming Bessemer would want to greet me as a man. His beast had superior reflexes and senses, all the better to assess me. Framed that way, I understood the breadth of the error in judgment I had made. I was thinking like a fae, and that might get me killed if I stayed among the wargs for much longer.

As if thinking of her had conjured her, Aisha appeared at her mate’s side. She peeled her lips over her teeth in a wolfy grin for me that Bessemer mirrored. Instinct guided me to ease outside and join Dell, presenting a united front.

Quick to notice the drift in their attention, the silvery wolf that was Graeson shifted to the left and put himself between Dell, my first line of defense, and the alpha mates.

My fingers curled into fists at my sides, my thumb smoothing over my concealed spur. “Are they going to fight?”

She considered their postures. “Not today.”

Not today
implied
maybe tomorrow
was a distinct possibility. “Graeson would fight his alpha?”

“Over you?” A wild smattering of laughter erupted beside me.
“Yes.”

“I came here for help, not to stir up trouble.”

“Where teeth and hearts are involved, men are not rational.” She gave my thigh a sympathetic pat. “It’s a dominance thing. It’s not your fault. Any mate Graeson brought home would face the same firing squad.”

“Oh fudge.” The implications hit me with the force of a Mack truck, and I dropped my head into my hands. “After Aisha attacked, she called
me
the beta. I thought it was—I don’t know—a taunt, but it wasn’t, was it?”

The way Dell shrank in on herself told me my hunch was right.

“Aisha is alpha, because she’s the female half of the alpha pair.” My brain sorted all I knew about wargs and about Graeson’s situation into neat little stacks that wouldn’t stand taller than a coffee mug if I placed them on my desk. “Graeson is the beta.” The wheels kept spinning. “Initiating the pack bond is an intimate act. Inclusion of a new member, I would imagine, must be sanctioned by the alpha.”

I read the blossoming dread on Dell’s face and knew I was headed in the right direction. “Unless another type of intimate bond was formed that might supersede that of a wolf to his alpha like a—”

“—mate,” she finished for me when my mouth and brain got disconnected.

“Bessemer thinks I connected with the pack bond because I’m Graeson’s mate.” The idea sent shivers cascading down my arms. “Graeson is beta… That makes me beta too?”

No wonder Bessemer had his fur britches in a wad. Betas answered only to their alphas, and his beta had brought home a fae of undetermined strength and origin, one who might jeopardize the running of his pack by weakening his second or sowing discord in the ranks.

Dell twisted hair around her finger and tugged until I was amazed it remained attached. “Yes?”

“We’re in trouble, aren’t we?” This might not have been the
us
Graeson had hoped for, but I would stand by him in this. The mate thing was big. Huge. Neither of us had signed up for it. Graeson was…confused…about me, and my gift was to blame for that. The same gift that had apparently incensed his alpha. “From what Graeson’s told me, your alpha is an eye-for-an-eye kind of guy.”

Meaning if he viewed our bond as legitimate, he would also view it as a slap in the face that he was shut out of such a huge decision when I wasn’t a warg and therefore couldn’t be Graeson’s lifemate. Also meaning all the poking and prodding Bessemer would have done to test my fitness prior to welcoming me into the pack would now occur post-bond.

“Bessemer is a hard man.” Dell worried the hem of her borrowed shirt. “He has to be.”

A wolflike growl rumbled through my chest upon hearing the fear in her voice. Must be the dregs of Aisha’s blood yet to be flushed from my system. The fact remained I didn’t like how subdued Dell had been acting, as if someone had burst her usually bubbly personality. Her eyes widened at the guttural sound, as if it carried a message she understood. I cleared the tightness from my throat. “So it’s fair to say that Bessemer wouldn’t mind seeing his beta brought down a few notches.”

“More than,” she agreed.

Again the silent wolves drew my eye. Too bad the pack bond wasn’t a thing I could tap into at will. I would give a lot to know what those two were discussing. Without asking I knew Dell wouldn’t tip me off about the content, assuming she could pick up reception for their conversation.

This whole interlude made me wonder if, under normal circumstances, there were distinct channels you could tune into to converse with specific wolves. That would come in handy.

In the clearing, the standoff was ending. Not a drop of blood had been spilled. That was progress, right?

The alpha pair turned and left, the subtext clear: they weren’t afraid of turning their backs on Graeson.

I, however, had no trouble admitting my unease. I wasn’t taking my eyes off them, not even long enough to retreat inside the trailer. The tip of Graeson’s tail flicked my calf as he trotted past, but I kept my stare fixed until Aisha and Bessemer were gone and not so much as a tree limb swayed to betray their passage.

A nasally chuff sounding suspiciously like a snort drew my attention to Dell, who was staring at a point beyond my shoulder. I finally turned away from the woods just as Graeson ducked around the side of my home. He reared up on the steps and scratched at the door with a pathetic whine in his throat. Dell laughed at his antics, but I resisted his charm. At least until he flopped on the grass, rolled over and showed me his fuzzy white belly just begging for rubs. I opened the door—like a sucker—and he leapt to his paws, darted in and trotted to the rear of the trailer. The jerk leapt onto my made bed where he proceeded to roll until my sheets were a tangled mess.

“Wow.” Dell snicker-chuckled. “I can’t believe you fell for the old
rub my belly
shtick.”

“There’s one born every minute,” I grumbled, trailing after him. “What does he think he’s doing?” Shimmying on his back up and down my bed, paws kicking in the air—that wasn’t normal warg behavior. Was it?

“Um, if I had to guess…” she stood and backed a safe distance away, “…I’d say he’s marking territory.”

“Raise one leg, Graeson. I dare you.” I stomped over to my table and rolled up an old sales flyer for a chain store three states away. “One drop on anything that belongs to me, and I’ll load you up and drive you to a vet for a few corrective snips. You’ll spend the rest of your life squatting when you have to pee.”

“It’s a good thing your nose isn’t better,” Dell singsonged.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The sales paper hit the floor. “No. He didn’t.” I bolted down the steps and really looked at the Airstream’s wheels. Liquid glinted on the rubber and glistened on the grass nearby. I leaned closer and inhaled.
Ammonia
. “I can’t believe he hosed my trailer.” A similar glint drew my eye to the wheels of my truck, which shined. “And my truck?” Sure enough, it too had been splashed with Graeson’s golden stamp of ownership. “I’m going to kill him.” Standing out here among his conquests, I wrinkled my nose. “As soon as he finishes washing the stink off my stuff.”

Cackling merrily, Dell shucked Graeson’s shirt, flung it at me and skipped backward toward the woods. “I need to head home and check on Meemaw. Her arthritis is flaring up something awful. See you later.”

“Hey,” I called after her retreating back. “What are the odds of me arranging a meeting with the Garzas?” The pack witches had performed the divinations to track Charybdis’s movements. I would give my eyeteeth to get my hands on that information for my case file. “They live around here too, right?”

“The Garzas are…complicated. I can’t guarantee a meeting, but I’ll ask.” She twisted her bottom lip then released it with a pop. “They made a pit stop on the way back from Mississippi. That much I do know. I’ll reach out once they get home.”

More delays, but hunting Charybdis was a bunch of
hurry up and wait
. “I appreciate it.”

She lifted a hand in farewell. “No problem.” Then she was gone, and I was alone with Graeson.

Circling around the trailer, I clomped up the stairs, grabbed the handle on the screen door and pulled. It didn’t budge. I jiggled it again. Locked. From the inside. Sitting on the laminate flooring of my entryway, the wolf gazed out the mesh at me through clear, guileless eyes.

“I guess you understood what I said about squatting when you pee, huh?”

I
’m not too
proud to admit I bribed my way back into my own home. The cost was a packet of gas station beef jerky from the glove box emergency kit in my truck. Graeson was happy to nudge the door open and take his prize from me with gentle teeth. He was even happier as he trotted to my bedroom and made himself comfortable while smearing drool and meaty juices on my sheets.

I retreated to the table where I could keep an eye on the wolf. I was sitting there, back to the wall and legs stretched out on the cushion in front of me, eating a bowl of soup I didn’t taste thanks to the frantic thought loop whirling through my head, when a couple of rapid knocks rang out.

“Cammie,” Isaac boomed from the porch. “Groceries.” He opened the screen with his pinky then backed through it. “Here. I forgot to tell you. This arrived before we left Three Way.” He dropped a bubble mailer on the table with a Wink, Texas return address, and it was all I could do not to snatch it up and tear into it then and there. This could be it. My first real look at Charybdis. Stepping into the kitchen, he dropped off groceries from the list I’d texted him. He froze, one hand in the paper bag. “What the hell?”

A bone-chilling snarl peppered the air.

“Graeson.” Hand gripping the back of the bench seat, I scowled at him as he leapt off the bed and prowled closer. “Knock it off.”

Armed with the first thing his hand closed over, a carrot, Isaac pointed its tapered orange tip at the slavering wolf. “
That’s
Cord Graeson?”

Scooting on my butt, I slid off the booth and between my cousin and my wolf. Not
my
wolf. No one tamed a warg. Graeson. He was just Graeson, and I would do well to remember that.

“This is my favorite cousin, Isaac Cahill.” I disarmed him and took a bite out of the raw vegetable. “Isaac, this poodle really is Cord Graeson.”

“I’ve never met a fanged-out warg,” Isaac said near my ear. “Is it safe to keep him in the house like this? Should you prop open the door or something in case he wants to go out?”

Twirling the carrot in a
whoop-de-do
motion, I crossed to the entryway and pushed open the screen. With a snort, the wolf sat on his haunches. I cracked the door then returned to Isaac’s side in case Graeson got any ideas. He didn’t dart for the opening like Isaac appeared to hope he would. In fact, Graeson seemed more than content to sit in the middle of the trailer and block me from being able to put up my groceries.

“He acts so…tame.” Isaac placed a hand on my shoulder. “Is this normal?”

The wolf didn’t growl, but he did peel his black lips away from his teeth.

Isaac removed his hand, and Graeson pretended the implied threat had been an innocent twitch of his muzzle.

“I’m not sure what’s normal for wargs,” I admitted. “I’m giving him until bedtime, then I’m unpacking Grandmom’s sterling silverware and forking him until he takes the hint and leaves.”

The wolf’s furry ears perked, but to a new sound or my bluff I wasn’t sure.

“Pumpkin, did you get my rhubarb by mistake?” a breezy voice intruded.

“Mom—” Isaac moved to intercept Aunt Dot.

“Don’t manhandle me, Izzy.” Aunt Dot strolled into the living room, digging bony elbows into our sides as she headed for the kitchen. “I can take care of myself.” Seeing the bitten carrot gripped in my fist, she plucked it from my hand and dropped it into my favorite mug where it sat on the counter. “Slice these things first or you’ll break your teeth. Next time buy the baby ones or matchsticks for snacking.” After patting my cheek, she began sorting the contents of the bag. “Ah. Found it. I’ll buy your carrots next time to square the debt, okay, pumpkin?”

The most pathetic whine in the history of wargdom had her pulling out her glasses and slipping them on her nose.

Waiting for her full attention, Graeson sprawled out and then rolled over, exposing his white downy belly to my aunt.

“He’s good,” Isaac murmured, newfound respect in his tone. At the same time Aunt Dot flung her rhubarb down and hit the floor on her knees, cooing, “What an absolute darling.”

“Aunt Dot, this is Cord Graeson.” Whose tongue lolled from one side of his mouth. “Graeson, this is my Aunt Dot. Bite her, and you will regret it.” Isaac harrumphed. “Bite any member of my family, and you will regret it.”

“Camille Annalise Ellis.” Aunt Dot glanced up from her vigorous belly-rubbing. “Cord is the first boyfriend you’ve ever brought home to meet the family—or brought the family to meet him. Don’t run him off with your sass.”

“Me?”
I spluttered. “He’s putting on an act.”

“Wolves are animals,” Aunt Dot chided. “Their emotions and reactions are honest.”

“He’s not a real wolf.” I felt a headache blossoming. “He’s a man wearing a fur suit.”

“Give it up.” Isaac hooked an arm around my waist. “She’s already picturing what beautiful grandpups you guys will make together.”

I stomped his instep. His groan, coupled with the way he slumped over and rested his forehead on my shoulder while emitting manful whimpers, made me feel a tad bit better about him being right. Aunt Dot probably was imagining all the chew toys she could buy her little grandnieces and grandnephews.

I dropped into the booth, pushed aside my picked-over soup and covered my face with my hands. This was not how I imagined introductions being made.

A cold nose applied behind my ear jerked me upright, and I scooched closer to the wall to escape the source. Except Graeson took it as an invitation and climbed up beside me, going as far as to rest his head on my lap.

“They make such a cute couple.” Aunt Dot wiped a tear from the corner of her eye.

This was a milestone moment for me, a new low in a life riddled with dips, realizing my romantic prospects were so pathetic that my aunt, who had raised me like her own child, was thrilled I was shacked up with a wolf.

Shock must have wiped my expression blank, because her saline waterfall dried up between one sniffle and the next. “Pumpkin, what’s wrong?” She took the seat opposite me and reached for my hands. “I thought you liked the nice wolfman.”

Argh
. I resisted the temptation to bang my forehead against the tabletop. I ought to strangle the wolfman in question for announcing to my family we were an item. As cover stories went, it was a good one that kept them safe from knowledge civilians didn’t need about the monster we were hunting. But it dovetailed with Bessemer’s assumptions too well. Both our families thought we were a couple, if for different reasons. Graeson had trapped me into living a dual-edged lie that was bound to cut one of us sooner rather than later.

“We’ve got a problem.” Since lying wasn’t my strong suit, I decided to stick as close to the truth as possible. “The alpha, Bessemer, is under the misconception that Graeson and I are mated, and he’s not happy about it.”

Isaac dropped down next to his mom, frown in place. “Is his objection to you or to you being fae?”

“Both?” I rubbed Aunt Dot’s bony knuckles, worrying the stacked rings covering each of her fingers. “I don’t know, and I won’t know until Graeson decides to shift and tell me.”

The radiant glow drained from Aunt Dot, and cold determination settled over her features. She was shifting from doting aunt to caravan matriarch, and threatening one of hers was a foolish thing to do. “Why does the alpha believe you’re mated?”

I noticed that neither Isaac nor Aunt Dot questioned whether the mating
would
occur, only accepted that it hadn’t
yet
.

Hope springs eternal.

“I took blood from a pack member, and part of the shift connected me with the pack bond.” With a thumbnail I tapped a square-cut ruby that had mesmerized me as a child. “Bessemer doesn’t understand—or doesn’t want to understand—that it had nothing to do with being mated. It’s part of my gift. It was an unconscious action, not a deliberate one.”

Isaac studied the faux grain on my tabletop as if mapping the grooves might lead him to an answer. “You barely know Graeson. You should be given time to decide if you two work as a couple before taking on something as complex as navigating pack dynamics.” His fingertips started twitching where they rested on the seat behind Aunt Dot. The itch to pick up and leave, to avoid trouble, was as engrained in us as the pattern in the laminate. “Is this—is your wolf—worth fighting for?”

On my lap, the wolf tensed. I don’t think he breathed again until I said, “Yes.”

My allies were few and far between. I couldn’t afford to lose even one.

“Then it’s settled.” Aunt Dot withdrew from me and patted Isaac’s cheek. “We stay.”

“This is not our way.” The look he gave her was degrees softer. “Do we want to get mixed up with native supernatural politics?”

“This goes beyond our—” I choked it out, “—
relationship
. I need Graeson’s help.” I hadn’t realized I was stroking his fur until I stopped and he nudged me with his wet nose. “He’s helping me with a case.”

Aunt Dot pierced me with laser focus. “You’re on vacation.”

As much as I wished that were the case, “A forced leave of absence is not a vacation.”

Magistrate Vause felt that between my friendship to Harlow, and my relationship—whatever it was—with Graeson, I was compromised. She no longer trusted me to approach the case with a clear head.

She was right to doubt me. A teen with her whole life ahead of her was missing. And Graeson, he would never stop until Charybdis was dead. He owed his sister that peace in whatever afterlife wargs imagined for their kin.

“As far as the conclave is concerned, the case he and I were working is solved,” I continued. “Right now Graeson is one of the few willing to stick his neck out with me, and part of that is because he’s a native supernatural and has immunity from prosecution. The conclave can’t touch him.”

“They can touch you plenty,” Isaac pointed out. “You could lose your badge if you get caught. Or worse.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take.” The weight of the pearl bracelet I wore, the faint pink orbs carved with intricate designs, demanded it. “The conclave is willing to overlook Harlow’s disappearance if it means the case stays closed. I can’t let that happen.” I rolled the beads with my thumb. “Harlow trusted me to have her back, and I failed her. She was taken right under my nose. It’s my responsibility to find her and bring her home to her family.”

No one told me to let the conclave do their job. Gemini weren’t trusting of outsiders and didn’t believe in the conclave’s mission to serve faekind without bias. Oh, they believed in policing our own, but not in the establishment created to serve, protect and punish us.

“It doesn’t always have to be you,” Isaac said quietly. “You have nothing to atone for.”

Mournful seagulls cried overhead.

Cool waves broke against a white-sand beach.

A tinkling child’s laughter silenced by the froth and foam.

Screams filled the summer night, hers, mine and our parents.

“This isn’t about me. Or Lori.” I slammed that memory behind as many mental walls as I could erect without shutting myself off from the world completely. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I wet my lips and focused on the girl I could save, not the one forever lost to me. “This is about doing my job, about taking care of our own. You can’t ask me to sit this one out and hope someone else comes along who gives a damn. That’s not how this works. That’s not how
I
work.”

Even the mention of my sister’s name turned Aunt Dot’s eyes glassy with unshed tears. Isaac was faster to recover, but his voice was strained. “How do we help?”

“You can’t, not with this.” The less they knew about Charybdis and the grisly details of his murder spree, the easier they would sleep at night. Besides the fact arming them with information made them accomplices. “This is the last time we’re going to talk about this. Ignorance is the only way I can protect you.”

Graeson might be immune from conclave punishment, but my family was not.

“Camille—” Isaac fisted his hand on the table.

“Tell us what you need, pumpkin.” Aunt Dot covered his hand with hers. “We’ll play it your way. For now.”

“Stay safe. Never go anywhere alone.” If Bessemer picked a fight, they would finish it, giving him all the reason he needed to descend on us. As strong as I knew the wards to be, I would rather not test them against a pack of foam-mouthed wargs. “We watch each other’s backs and keep inside the wards unless we’re escorted by a warg I trust.”

The twitch was back in Isaac’s fingers, the urge to hit the road and outrun our troubles pulling his skin taut.

“If things get rough with the wargs, we’ll go.” Giving him a contingency plan was the best way to soothe him. “I have a contact in Texas who’s offered her help if I need it.”

Gaze tagging the forgotten package, Isaac stilled. “The same friend who sent you this?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” He rolled his shoulders. “Mom’s agreed to do this your way, and family sticks together, but if we’re going to get tangled up in this, then I want your word on something.”

“All right.” No hesitation. I owed them for standing by me, for trusting me.

“You’re going to practice your magic with me. Shifting. Recalling. The works. Every day. No excuses. You’ve got to get in shape if you want to hold your own with predators. Pack hunters are a whole different animal from the loners you usually track.” His expression turned calculating. “Is there anyone here you trust to be a donor?”

The wolf lounging on my lap perked his ears.

“I think so.” Dell would think watching Isaac kick my butt was a hoot. “It’s just...”

He waggled his finger at me. “No excuses.”

“Touching their bond is what started this trouble with the wargs in the first place,” I argued. “Bessemer might view it as me rubbing my connection with Graeson in his face. Is that smart?”

“You’re serious? We’re camping a stone’s throw from Chandler pack lands, and you’re asking me what’s smart? That ship has sailed.” He left me no room to maneuver. “Wargs are territorial. There won’t be any other fae or native supernaturals you can borrow magic from in the vicinity if you won’t use wargs as donors. The damage is done. What more harm can you do here?”