Chapter 28

Aspredicted, Uriah and Quinn Shift as soon as the last homework question isanswered. Rather than wander outside to join the Shifters enjoying the coolnight breeze, the two coyotes flop on the floor in front of the only couchremaining in the living room. Quinn, distinguishable from his brother only bythe notch in his left ear, settles onto an oversized pillow, rests his head onhis crossed paws and stares up at the television.

Uriah rolls over onto his back. His head istilted toward the movie, but his eyes are on Az. After her shower, she’dreturned to the living room dressed in a pair of purple and yellow polka-dotpajamas and had been toting a small toiletry bag. The word manicure had capturedJose’s attention. I’m sure Princess meant that she needed to fix her nails –digging into not-Shifter flesh has to be hell on the paint job – but somehowshe wound up with an ocelot cuddled up next to her.

She’spainstakingly painted all the claws on three of Jose’s paws. She’s assured himthat the pale green is the exact color of his librarian’s eyes. Why she paid so much attention to the color ofJose’s librarian’s eyes is not something I want to waste time trying to figureout. Jose’s right front paw covers most of her thigh. His claws are extended,and I’ve seen at least one bead of blood soak through the cotton pajamabottoms. If there’s a second, I’m calling an end to beauty shop time.

AlthoughUriah may do the job for me. He flicks his tail slowly. Lazily. It slides upAz’s leg before curling in to rest across his stomach. Right on top of thewhite splotch in the middle of his belly. When the first flick doesn’t get aresponse, he does it again. And again.

Azsmears a green stripe across the top of Jose’s paw. Murmuring apologies, shewipes it away with a damp cloth. More than once, her gaze strays down to Uriah.Jose’s last paw looks like a five-year-old painted it. I know what she’sthinking. Uriah’s lured people in with this act before. There’s something aboutthat expanse of beige fur and the white spot that draws people in.

Shelasts longer than I expected. She shoves Jose’s paw off her leg when the lastclaw has been painted. She caps the bottle and sets it on the arm of the couchwith the rest of her supplies. Her hands quiver. Uriah flicks his tail. Hegives up any pretense of watching the movie to stare at her.

Witha squeal of delight, she launches herself off the couch and lands on her kneesbeside him. He doesn’t have a chance to flip over and dart out of reach. Bothof her hands disappear into the thick fur covering Uriah’s ribs. Her fingersskate across the white spot. His mouth falls open; he wriggles on his back likea worm.

“Ha!Thought you could tease me and then skedaddle, did you? I don’t think so, bud,”she laughs as she tickles him mercilessly. “Your white spot is mine!”

Uriahtries to squirm away, but she’s fast. Between her giggles and Uriah’s yips, noone can hear the television. Jose seems to content to stay on the couch andwatch the two lunatics. Quinn makes no move to join the ruckus. At least notuntil Uriah’s leg spasms and catches him in the back of the head.

Witha howl, Quinn abandons his pillow and any facade of maturity. Az hops onto thecouch to avoid being bowled over by two wrestling coyotes. Quinn and Uriah rollacross the floor. Quinn’s nose is buried in Uriah’s throat, and Uriah’s teethare clamped onto Quinn’s ear.

“Boys!”Az chides, clapping her hands sharply. “No fighting near the breakables! Takeit outside.”

Uriahand Quinn immediately roll onto their feet. They nip and bat at each other allthe way out of the living room. Something hard and heavy – likely acoyote-shaped something – bangs against the wall before I hear the tell-taleswing of the Shifter-sized doggy door.

“Huh,”Az snorts as she drops onto her ass on the cushion. “They listened.”

“They’reused to listening to adults.”

Hernose scrunches up. “You’re calling me an adult? Funny, that.”

Thesilliness with the boys aside, I do think of her as an adult. She thinks likeone. Acts like one. Looks like one.

Kisseslike one.

She’san adult who takes the occasional magic-induced vacation from sanity.

“So,blue’s your favorite color, right?” she asks breezily.

“Yeah.Sure.”

“It’sa nice, versatile color.” She nudges Jose aside so she can reach her bag ofnail supplies. Glass clinks together as she digs through the bag. “Like a darkblue or more of a turquoise-tealish blue?”

“They’reyour nails, Az.”

“Goodpoint. Turquoise it is, then.” The sharp tang of nail polish fills the livingroom. She tucks her chin to her chest as she concentrates on painting herfingernails. “Did Uriah give you his permission slip? His art class is going tothe Menil Collection next Tuesday.”

“Signedand back in his backpack.”

“Great.He said that his teacher was looking for a couple of chaperones. If we get allthis impending doom stuff cleared up by then, Jose and I can play babysitter.”

“Az.”

Sheharrumphs and waggles a freshly painted finger at me. “Did you or did you notjust call me an adult?”

“Theschool is a more than a little wary about having Shifters as chaperones. Typicaldiscrimination bullshit.”

“Well,I am technically not a Shifter, so there’s no need for anyone to get theirpanties in a bunch. And Jose’s too sweet to be a threat.” She turns herattention to the nails on her left hand. “Quinn’s the one with a thing for art.Photography in particular. There’s an exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts he’smentioned at least twice.”

“Admissionis free on Thursdays.”

“Weshould go.”

Itis, by far, the most domestic conversation I’ve had with a woman in a longtime. Greta and I don’t usually talk about things like this. Her role as betamainly means that she plays enforcer. Sure she helps the boys if no one else isavailable, but she’s never tried to be house mother.

“Steveand Oscar are talking about opening up their own firm. Steve’s not happy withthe soul-suckers at his place. He says he dies a little inside every time hehas to sit in a staff meeting. Oscar doesn’t hate his job, but he’s itching fora little more responsibility.”

Idrop the cushion I’d been straightening to stare at her. Have we entered thebizarro dimension where Az is actually in charge of the pack and I’m thenewbie? She stops blowing on her nails to laugh at me.

“Jeez,Ricky, you have all these people living with you. Don’t you talk to any ofthem?” A rueful shake of her head sends her damp braid swinging. “I can see nowwhat Greta meant about needing me to take over the family-aspect of the pack.”

Wait?What? This isn’t faintly amusing anymore. It’s one thing for the two of them totake charge after a crisis; it’s quite another for them to start plotting behindmy back. “You and Greta discussed this?”

“Atlength.”

Icross my arms and fix her with a steely glare. She fidgets a little under thescrutiny. “And what was the general consensus?”

“Thather position stays the same, and I’ll pick up some of the slack around here. Thingslike dealing with the boys and school. Playing mediator for squabbles. Groceries.Making sure everyone pulls their weight cleaning.” She shrugs. “Helping youwith investigations.”

They’vegot it all sorted out. No input required from me. Why not? It’s just my life.

pack. Though I know that Greta ispartially to blame, all of my anger focuses on the woman sitting in front ofme.

“Jose,scram,” I order, eyes still on Az.

Theocelot wastes no time scrambling off the couch and disappearing into thekitchen. Good to know someone still respects my authority. He’ll keep theothers from intruding, too.

“Whatgives you the right to start parceling off my pack like it’s a birthday cake,Astraea?”

Shestiffens at the use of her full first name. Rather than stand so that we’re onmore equal footing, she curls her feet under her and rests her hands on herthighs. “Greta and I were not trying to usurp your position, Aldric.” Her toneis cool. Her words clipped and precise. She’s mad. Good. She needs to take thisseriously because I’m pissed as hell.

“Sureas shit sounds like it. Is this the kind of gratitude they teach witches?”

Irritationflashes in her blue eyes. Her lips curl back in a sneer. “Well what did youexpect from me? You dump me in here – and I’m grateful, don’t ever think thatI’m not – but I don’t fit in like everyone else. I’m not a Shifter. I can’tjust fall into the hierarchy. I have to find my place.”

“Youshould have asked me!” That she’s correct doesn’t do a damn thing to douse myanger.

“Excuseme for thinking you had a few more important things on your mind,” she huffs. “Besides,it’s not like we were making any definite plans. We were just talking. Feelingeach other out. Trying to determine my position.”

“I’mthe one who tells you what position to take.”

Hereyebrows shoot up. Her lips twist into a wicked smile. “I saw your copy of the in the office. It’ll savetime if you just jot down page numbers.”

“Notwhat I meant.” Though now that she’s said it, there are a few positions Iwouldn’t mind seeing her in. She’s flexible. Bendy. Strong legs and… this is the time to start a list. “You andGreta pull this shit again, and I’ll kick both your asses.”

“Wewere just talking!” she repeats, tossing her hands up.

“AndI’m just going to bang your heads together. Repeatedly.”

“Whatwas I supposed to do? I didn’t want her to feel threatened. Do you me to fight her for beta position?”She shakes her head, shrugs. “Greta would annihilate me. Total slaughter in liketwo seconds. And then you’d feel like you had to take her down because you’reall squishy and chivalrous inside. Then poor Ike would have no choice but toavenge his mate’s death. My money’s on you, of course, but it’d still be rough.Really, Rick, I did you a favor.”

“Inthe future, keep your favors to yourself.”

“Youand I aren’t in a relationship,” she ventures, spine softening. Her lipscompress into a thin, emotionless line. The word lingers in the air like a fog between us.

“Yougot that right.”

Sheswallows, averts her gaze to her hands. Her lower lip trembles. “I’m justdigging myself a bigger hole, aren’t I?”

. Now she looks hurt. I didn’t want tohave this conversation. Not when I don’t know what I want or what she wants orwhat works best for the pack. “I’m not saying never, Princess.”

Sheperks right up. Her beaming smile heats my blood and brings an answering smileto my face. How did we go from sniping at each other to grinning like idiots?

It’snot going to be all sunshine and roses, though. “Hold on, Az. If we were togive it a shot, it wouldn’t just be the two of us. The whole pack would beinvolved. It’s not something we can just rush into. There are ramifications.”

Azbobs her head. “I get it. We couldn’t let anyone take sides if we fought oranything like that. The entire thing could go kablooey.”

“Whichis why we need to take it slow.” How did I get to be the voice of reason in allof this? I’ve never wanted a long-term relationship. Why am I even entertainingthe thought of permanence? Is one woman worth all the frustration? Even if sheis beautiful, sharp enough to keep up with me, funny, compassionate, gets alongwith the rest of the pack, and… ah, hell.

“Ican do slow.”

Yeahright. She can’t keep her lips to herself. Not that that’s a bad thing. Iwouldn’t mind having those lips – and everything below them – pressed upagainst me right now as a reward for having to endure this conversation.

But,since we started it’s only fair that we see it through. Clear the air. “What’sthe longest you’ve ever stayed in one place? And I don’t mean with your parentsin New Orleans?”

“Sevenmonths.”

Damn.So long? Not exactly the time frame I was thinking about. “So you’ve neverreally had a home. Not one that you could count on.”

“Iguess not.”

“Thisis too new, then. Take your time here to figure out what you want. Who you wantto be. Be a big sister to Uriah and Quinn. Make friends. Take classes if youwant. Get a job. If, in seven months, you’re still here and you still want tosee where can go, then we’ll talk.I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Azgroans and buries her head in her hands. “Seven months?”

Nokidding. I probably should have come up with a better plan before I opened mydamn mouth. It’s too late to renege on it now. “Seven months.”

Exasperatedeyes meet mine. “I sure hope I get a battery budget.”

“Az!”

“Idon’t like cold showers,” she sniffs.

Neitherdo I. We won’t last seven months. Hell, I’ll be surprised if we last sevenweeks. She’ll break first. She doesn’t have a Shifter’s discipline. She’simpulsive. Reckless. Passionate.

, I hope she breaks first.

“Well,”she says, popping to her feet, “I guess we’ll have to see if we even survivethis crisis. Maybe Olivet needs a virgin sacrifice. That’ll put me out of mymisery.”

Theothers trickle in. Once the last pack member has sprawled out on the livingroom floor, I walk Az though the house making sure that all the doors andwindows are locked. She sets, unlocks, and resets the alarm four times before Iam satisfied that she won’t accidentally set it off. Greer is my ideal late-night visitor.

Idon’t think about Shifting until everyone is settled. Even then, I doubt thewisdom behind leaving Az as the only human in the house. Can she handle anattack? Does she know what to do if something goes wrong? What if her headinjury is worse than we think? What if she falls into a coma?

“Stopworrying,” Az says, shoving me towards the office. “Go get your fur on.”

WhenI emerge from the office, the lights are off. It only takes me a second toadjust to the darkness. There are at least six separate lumps of fur spread outacross the room. I expect to find Az on the couch or near the pile of softblankets closest to the front door. My pile of blankets.

She’ssmack in the middle of Hank and Jose. Hank has a paw on her shoulder. One ofJose’s front legs is thrown across her stomach. Her head is on Jose’s chest,but the end of her braid is between Hank’s lips. I stand over the feline pileand growl. They have something that belongs to me. Never a good idea to stealfrom the Alpha.

Joseopens one eye. His lips curve into a cat smile before the eye falls shut. Aloud purr emanates from his chest.

Fine.They can have her. I stalk to my blankets and fall into a fitful sleep. Surroundedby my pack, I should be able to relax. To rest and heal. I can’t. Something’soff. A tingle in the base of my spine that won’t let up.

Hourslater, I lift my head at the rustle of bedding. A shadow rises from the otherside of the living room. Az collapses onto the floor beside me. Her fuzzyblanket flutters through the air before settling over us. Well, mostly over me.She doesn’t curl up against me, but she rests a hand on my side.

“S’hotin the fur pile,” she mutters. “Think I’m gonna die of heatstroke.”

Iroll over and lick a bead of sweat off her forehead. She half-heartedly shovesat my muzzle. “So gross.”

Herfingers burrow into the fur on my chest. Her warm, bare feet settle against mypaws. The faint, sweet scent of magnolias fills my nostrils with every breath.

Thetingle at the base of my spine fades.