United (The Ushers) (5 page)

“C’mon in. Y’all can help yourselves if you want a beer or a coke or anything. Fridge is through there.” Jonny pointed down a hallway to the kitchen.

Fionn shook his head.

“No thanks, Jonny,” Annie said. Her attention had been captured by some black-and-white photographs on the wall. They appeared to be forty or fifty years old and showed Jonny and two other wolves who looked a lot like him on the front porch of the same house.

“How old are you, Jonny?” she asked.

“Oh, I reckon about a hundred and fifty give or take. Mama never did write down my birthday. Figured it wasn’t important.” He grinned. “I guess that means I can have cake whenever I want.”

“Hey, that’s a bonus.” Annie smiled. She was being won over by the man’s easy-going attitude, his seductive southern accent and his smiling charm encouraging her to trust him. She felt so at ease, the words slipped out: “I don’t have a birthday, either.”

“Really? Fancy girl like you oughta have a birthday.” Jonny winked at her, and she laughed.

“Really. I wasn’t born…I was created.”

“Fuck me. Really? Like Adam and Eve?”

“Yeah, kind of. Except I was created by the Goddess.”

“Oh, we don’t ken to that kinda talk here. We’re good Christians.” Jonny held up a hand to stop her from saying more. “Ain’t no other gods, ma’am.”

“I see.” She raised an eyebrow at Fionn, who shrugged. Neither of them had ever heard of a Christian werewolf. Annie had been in the presence of the Goddess and had lived with her Creator back before the Goddess had been trapped. It was absurd for a wolf to deny Her existence. They felt Her presence like crazy during the full moon when She called them to run.

“Anyway, y’all ain’t up here to find Jesus, I reckon. Let’s go see what Tav’s up to.”

Jonny started up the steps in the front hall, and Fionn and Annie followed. He knocked on a door off the hallway on the second floor, and they heard a gruff, “Come on in.”

Jonny pushed the door open, and they walked into a bedroom.

“Girl, if you don’t hold onto that eyebrow, it’s gonna fly away,” Fionn whispered in Annie’s ear.

She forced the eyebrow to relax as they looked around the room. It was dominated by a four poster bed, in which a large old wolf, his face marked with scars, glasses perched upon his nose, reclined. A moldy, musty stench filled the air, as though the sheets hadn’t been changed in years. Everything in the room seemed stripped of color, having been leached away by the sun and dust. Fionn felt Annie flinch when she realized the old man was missing a leg.

“Murphy?” the old wolf asked, his voice gruff.

“Yeah. I’m Fionn Murphy.” He reached out a hand for a handshake, but the older man waved him off. Fionn felt slightly fogged as the man introduced himself.

“What do you want?” Tavis said abruptly.

Must be an Alpha thing,
Fionn thought to himself as he thought of the direct, just-shy-of-rudeness way Monica always spoke. Fionn decided to let loose his charisma on the old man. He knew what would happen—when he let another wolf sense the entirety of his power, they had no choice but to offer obeisance. Animal nature bowed to power, always.

Fionn watched as the other man’s eyes widened. Against his will, Tavis bared his neck, offering his obeisance to Fionn. Frail old hands twitched against the urge to shift into claws.

Holding his breath against the smell, Fionn took the old man’s throat in his teeth.

Immediately, his senses were assailed by the thoughts of this strange old wolf. Fear. Anger. Accusation. The sensations chased each other, flickering around like a wolf pup chasing its tail. Under it all, a deep love for his God and Jesus Christ but overlaid with so many levels of confusion and paranoia. One thing was clear to Fionn: Tavis Kirk was completely terrified and not remotely sane.

“What frightens you, Tavis?” Fionn asked.

“Witchcraft.” The old man pointed at them. “Y’all are bewitching me. We’re good Christian folk here. We don’t want no part of what you’re doing.”

“I’m uniting the wolves under a single leader. Unification. To strengthen us all.”

“No. We’re fine here. We don’t need a single leader. Around here, wolves prefer to keep to themselves. We don’t need no wolf government coming in and telling us what to do. I’m sorry you wasted your time.” The old man twitched on the bed, as if he were under a great strain to hold back his wolf.

Fionn could see hints of the wolf around the man’s face. He sighed heavily as he prepared to make his case.

“It’s time for y’all to leave.” Jonny spoke before Fionn had the chance. “I’ll show you out.” He led them down the stairs and opened the front door. “Y’all can find your way back to your car. Don’t take your gun out on our property unless you want to revoke parley.”

And with that, he shut the door in their very astonished faces.

“What the hell just happened?” Annie exclaimed as they started down the dirt road toward their car.

“Libertarian Christian Weres happened. Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Fionn growled. “That old man is Alpha of the entire southeast?”

“Apparently. Well, this is new.” Annie frowned. “I think we need to go home. Make some calls. We can stop and see Rose and Dev on the way.”

“Yeah. Let’s get back to the hotel,” Fionn decided. “I’m going to call Mo.”

“Why do you call her that?” Annie asked, her curiosity written on her face.

“Because no one else does.” He smiled. “I don’t like how Bee calls her ‘Mon,’ and everyone else calls her Alpha or Monica. Except Angelo, and he calls her sweetheart in Spanish. I wanted something that only I called her.”

“Oh my god, you are such a fucking sap.” Annie laughed.

“Shut it, cat.” Fionn grinned at her. “I’ll deny it if you breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“Wow, it’s odd being called that.”

“Cat? Why? It’s what you are.” He shrugged.

“It’s what Mother calls me.”

“Really? She doesn’t use your name?”

“Annie’s not really my name, Fionn. I don’t have a name. I chose Annie for myself.”

“I never knew. Does that mean Sara…?”

“Yeah. Sara chose her own name, too.”

“And your brother?”

“He doesn’t have a name yet. He’s Bear. And he’s hibernating. The third Usher hasn’t been born yet.”

“No shit? So it’s going to take us a while to unite everyone.”

“No one said being the chosen one wasn’t going to be work,” Annie quipped.

Finally, they saw their car from between branches of the trees.

“Thank Goddess,” Fionn breathed. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

As they drove back to Asheville, Fionn thought about what Annie had said. The third Usher wasn’t born yet. It was unnerving to think he wouldn’t just pass the Usher torch off to someone else as soon as everyone was unified. What was he going to do then?

Annie spoke in answer to the thought he hadn’t voiced. “Then, dear one, you lead them. You and Monica together.”

“So we don’t ever get to relax? An Usher’s work is never done?”

“Are you having a why-me attack?” Annie asked, teasing.

“No. Not really. I guess I just hadn’t thought that far ahead.” Fionn had never thought about how long his task would last, what would happen after the packs were united.

“That’s okay…Thinking ahead is my job.” Annie pulled into the parking lot of the hotel, and they walked in together.

As they parted in the hallway, he turned to her. “Ann. I like your name. I like it more knowing you chose it for yourself. Thanks for everything.”

“You’re welcome, Fionn.” She purred as she walked away.

Chapter Five

M
ONICA
W
AS
I
N
H
ER
O
FFICE
when the phone rang. She looked at the number. Fionn. She felt herself smiling as she answered.

“What do you want?” She tried to make her voice sound tough and provocative, but inside, she felt her stomach twisting in knots.

“Hi, Mo.” His voice floated into her ears, warm and sexy. “Annie and I ran into something surprising here in North Carolina. We’re not sure what to make of it, actually. We won’t be lingering here, though. Kirk gave me the distinct impression that we’re not welcome.”

“Tell me,” she demanded, listening as he drew in a sharp breath.

“It can wait. I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine. Are you okay? You never ask how I’m doing.” His concern confused her.

“I’m fine, too, honey,” he answered. “I just want to hear your voice for a few minutes. Is that okay? Can you talk to me about things up there?”

He wanted to hear her voice? Monica felt tears prickling behind her eyes. The man was driving her insane. She was walking a constant tightrope of lust, and he kept pushing her. Why couldn’t he be sweet when they were in the same room? Why did he have to act so tortured and confused in her presence? When he was hundreds of miles away, that was when he chose to be sweet.

“Why are you doing this? You’re all hot and cold, and it’s not fair to play with me like this.”

“Oh Goddess, Mo, I swear I’m not playing. I deserve that, I really do. I’ve been an asshole. I thought I was doing what was best for you. Can you forgive me?”

Silence hung over the line as she thought about what he said. Not playing?
I’ve been. I thought I was…all in the past tense.
Did this mean anything would be different from here out?

“I-I want to, Fionn. I want to believe that you’re being nice because you care about me. That when you get back here at the end of the month, it could be different.”

“It can be. And it won’t be the end of the month. We’re gonna spend the rest of this week in Maryland so I can see my kids, and we’ll be back on Monday.”

“Monday?” she squeaked in anticipation. That was only a handful of days away.

“Yeah, and Mo…I know you and Angelo…I mean…”

“Were fucking?”

“Yeah. I have no right to tell you what to do. But I can’t share you. When I come back, you’re mine. Not his.”

“Fionn Murphy, that sounded an awful lot like you were staking a claim.” Holy hell, he was finally coming around.

“Mo. This is really hard for me.”

“As long as it’s hard for me on Monday, I don’t really care,” she teased and was gratified to hear him laugh.

“Honey…You’re really cute when you’re being funny, but I’m serious about this.”

“I know. I’m sorry for teasing…It’s just that you make me giddy. Angelo is just a friend. We’ve slept together, but that’s over—you’re my mate, love. Angelo will celebrate for us.”

“He’s a better man than I am.” Fionn’s voice went smoky over the phone line. “Because once I’ve had you in my arms, once you’re wearing my bite, I’ll never let you go.”

“I’d never want you to,” she whispered.

“So now that we’ve established that, talk to me—please? Hearing your voice makes me feel like everything is right in the world.”

“Wow. Okay. Your brother and Bee had their ultrasound today. It looks like there is going to be another Amazon woman in the Murphy family.”

“Awesome! Rose will be thrilled to hear she’s going to have a girl cousin.” Fionn sobered as he thought of his human daughter, who would grow old and die before her cousin even started graying. He pushed the thought to the back of his head. Not for the first time since becoming a father, he wished there were truth to the Hollywood version of Weres, that they could change a human with a bite. The thought of biting his children was awful, but he’d do it in a heartbeat if he could make them wolves and share his longevity with them. He sighed, pain filling his chest.

“Hey, what’s going on? That sounded very sad and tired.” Monica’s voice on the line soothed him.

“I was thinking about Rose, Dev, and mortality. It’s my burden, you know. The consequence of my behavior for the last twenty years is that I have to watch my children grow old and die while I’m still a young man. I can’t regret them, Mo. I can’t. But that joy of being a dad, knowing that human life is so fleeting, it just…
Goddess,
it’s bittersweet.”

“Oh, Fionn.” Monica felt like weeping for him. She’d snapped at him the morning they’d kissed. She’d chided him about his human children, never considering what it was like for him to parent them. She’d never imagined how it would feel to him, knowing their lifespan was so much shorter than his own. The pain of it tore into her as she realized her mate carried a raw, festering wound in his spirit that would never heal.

“I don’t know what to say, darling. I never considered it before.” She felt shame well up in her. She’d only thought of the irresponsibility of fathering a human child in the abstract, not the actuality. The actuality was even more terrible than the abstract.

“We all have our burdens.” His voice was quiet on the line. “I’m so damned sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing to me? If I could take your pain away, I would. A burden shared is lighter.”