Shallow Grave: Grant Wolves Book 2 Read online

  “Maybe we should wait for Addie,” Cathy said.

  “What?” Joey sat up straighter, the corners of her mouth drawn downward. “No. I want answers. I need answers.” Her voice cracked with emotion. Maybe it should have been enough to have him there. Wasn’t it what she’d wanted so very badly?

  Chris’s hand shifted, fingers sliding between hers. He squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, Joey. We can wait.”

  “No, we can’t. How is this even possible?” Joey reclaimed her hand and stood, facing down her godmother from across the room. “He was—he was dead. I saw his—his body. With my own eyes. He was dead.” Tears stung her eyes as the enormity of what had happened struck her. She’d put him in a box. Put him in the ground. While he was still alive.

  Cathy rubbed her temples and sighed. “I know, child. It must have been some sort of magical suspension. A deathlike state that would fool anyone that didn’t know what to look for.”

  “Why didn’t you say something? If you thought it was possible, why didn’t you tell us?” Joey asked. Fingers once more caught her own, and she looked down at Chris with a frown that melted when she saw the expression on his face. Earnest. Chagrined.

  “I think what Joey’s trying to say,” Chris said, his eyes on Cathy, “is thank you. Thank you for helping me.”

  Joey’s cheeks heated and she flopped on the bench beside Chris. “Yes, thank you.”

  The older woman smiled at them. “My pleasure. It was a hunch, nothing more. I’m glad it turned out to be true.”

  “Me too,” Chris said. Joey nodded in agreement and resisted the urge to crawl under the bed. Unanswered questions burned in her brain, but she held them back. Chris was right. She ought to be more grateful.

  The door opened and Adelaide poked her head in, sparing Joey—at least temporarily—from further embarrassment.

  “Oh, there you are.” She let herself in and closed the door behind her. “Thank the heavens, our guests are beginning to disperse.”

  Chris struggled to his feet, as conditioned as the other men in their family were to rise when their mother entered the room. Joey stood too, but only to support him. As a girl, she was exempt from this genteel expectation. Finally, a double standard that worked in her favor.

  Adelaide crossed the room to hug Chris again, then eased him down onto the bench and settled beside him. There wasn’t quite enough room for Joey to sit back down, but when she tried to release Chris’s hand, he held on tightly and looked up at her. She nodded to him and squeezed his hand, lingering where she stood, close at his side.

  “Now tell me,” Adelaide said, getting right to the point as she fixed her eyes upon her old friend. “How did this happen?”

  “I wish I knew, Addie.” Cathy crossed her legs and leaned back in the desk chair, settling in. “The magic within that blade was unlike anything I’ve ever seen or read about. I would have liked to study it, but…” Her eyes strayed to Joey, but she lifted her chin. She’d make no apologies for destroying the blasted thing.

  “You’re the most experienced practitioner within two hundred miles or more,” Adelaide countered. “Might you hazard a guess?”

  Cathy’s face screwed up like she’d tasted something particularly sour. “If I had to guess, I’d say it had something to do with his lycanthrope nature. Lycanthropes are magical creatures. The best I can figure is that his body entered some sort of stasis when his spirit was removed. Once released, it returned to his body and regeneration began as normal.”

  “Magical creatures?” Joey said, eyes darting between Cathy and her mother. “What does that mean?”

  Cathy clicked her tongue. “Really, Addie, why do you insist on—“

  “What isn’t magical about changing into a wolf?” Adelaide lifted a pale brow and gave Joey a sideways look.

  “It seems perfectly natural to me,” Joey mumbled. Chris squeezed her hand, and Adelaide returned her attention to Cathy.

  “Is his condition permanent?”

  Joey’s eyes widened. The thought that Chris’s return might be temporary hadn’t even crossed her mind. Her fingers clutched his tighter. He responded by folding her hand in both of his.

  Cathy nodded. “As permanent as life could be said to be. His aura appears normal, and I healed his wounds.”

  “He can barely stand,” Joey pointed out.

  “I’ll be fine,” Chris said.

  “I have no explanation for that,” Cathy admitted. “But I’m sure it’ll pass. You just need time to rest and recover your strength. Do whatever you’d normally do the day after the full moon. Shapeshifting takes a lot out of you, yes? Same principle here.”

  “Now that you mention it, I’d love something to eat,” Chris said.

  “Me too,” Joey said, suddenly keenly aware of her own depleted reserves after all the shifting she’d done during the fight. “I’ll go down and rummage for some leftovers.”

  “No,” Chris said quickly, tightening his hold on her hand. Three pairs of eyes looked his way, and he winced. “Sorry, I just… Never mind, go ahead. Thank you.” His hands released hers.

  Joey bit the inside of her lip and laid her hand on his shoulder, rubbing it lightly. He leaned into the touch, blue eyes slipping closed.

  “I think I can manage to find you something,” Adelaide said, to everyone’s obvious surprise. “Oh, don’t look so shocked. I know how to use a microwave.”

  Chuckling, Cathy stood as well. “I’ll go with you.”

  The two women let themselves out, and Joey took her mother’s spot on the bench. She wasn’t sure what to say, now that they were alone. Before she could make up her mind, he turned toward her and wrapped his arms around her midsection, his upper body curled so he could rest his head against her shoulder. Her arms moved around him automatically and she leaned her head against his.

  Maybe words weren’t needed just yet.

  2

  There was a warm murmur of welcome and a smile on every face as Chris entered the dining room the next morning. His father even put down his paper and stood to give him a hug before letting him settle at the table.

  It’d been a late night, what with the family reunion and all, so everyone was getting a late start. Chris imagined they’d all slept soundly with him back. He hadn’t slept a wink. Truth be told, he was afraid to close his eyes, afraid to open them to find the world gone gray and blurry around him once more. Or, worse, to find himself in darkness so complete that even his wolf eyes couldn’t help.

  He hoped he didn’t look as tired as he felt, but at least he didn’t have to force a smile or feign enthusiasm for breakfast.

  “Wow, Rosita outdid herself,” Chris said, surveying the spread. Biscuits, sausage gravy, hash browns, scrambled eggs, and a large bowl of fruit were all arrayed on the table. A veritable feast of Southern comfort classics.

  “Actually, Mom gave Rosita the day off,” Jon said. “This was all Sara.” He laid his hand atop his wife’s briefly and she smiled at him, a faint blush of color staining her cheeks. That would explain the down-home flair; Rosita’s special breakfasts were more typical of Southern California, but Sara’s roots were in the Deep South as much as his parents’ were.

  “Don’t make a fuss,” Sara said. “Ben helped.”

  Ben looked up from his plate and smirked, a fork loaded with eggs hovering before his lips. “I made coffee.”

  Sara waved a hand and blushed deeper, eyes lowered.

  “I, for one, really appreciate the coffee. Thanks, bro,” Joey said. She filled two mugs and set one in front of Chris.

  “Thank you both. It smells amazing,” Chris said as he grabbed a biscuit and began tearing it into bite-sized chunks. He popped one in his mouth and savored the morsel while he worked. It was warm, soft, and buttery on his tongue. Eating was something else he wouldn’t take for granted anymore.

  A comfortable silence settled around the table, broken by the occasional scrape of cutlery on plates or rustle of Reginald’s newspaper. Even though so much had
happened, it was like any other day when they all gathered for breakfast. Granted, those days had grown less frequent since Chris and Joey had moved out, but it was normal and comforting nonetheless. Since Chris hadn’t expected to ever experience one again, he was exceptionally appreciative.

  He was about halfway through the contents of his plate when a sudden shriek pierced the silence. Cutlery clattered to the table and chair legs scraped on the tiled floor as the household looked up in alarm. All eyes turned to the archway, where Emma stood, eyes wide as saucers.

  “Em!” Chris was on his feet in a flash.

  “Oh my god.” Emma backed up, slack-jawed and staring.

  “Huh, forgot all about her,” Ben murmured.

  “In or out,” Adelaide said, arching a brow. “Ladies don’t lurk in doorways in this house.”

  Joey groaned. “Mom…”

  Emma had a strong flight instinct. She turned and fled.

  “Crap,” Joey said, rising.

  Chris put a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll go.”

  Joey looked up at him with a frown, but nodded when he squeezed her shoulder. She sat back down while Chris hurried after Emma, gaining the hallway just in time to see her turn a corner.

  “Em, wait!” he called and jogged after her. His body protested the sudden action, but he pushed through the burning tightness in his legs and propelled himself forward. Before he rounded the corner, a door slammed from the direction Emma had gone. His footsteps slowed and he sniffed the air, picking up her scent easily. He followed her scent to the recently slammed door and rapped his knuckles on it.

  “Em, it’s just me! Come on, you don’t have to hide.”

  No answer.

  Chris twisted the door handle. It was unlocked. “I’m opening the door.” He pushed it open.

  Emma stood on the other side of the room, as far from the door as she could get, wreathed in a magical glow. She put on a brave face, but he could practically smell her fear.

  “Don’t come any closer,” she said.

  Chris held up his hands. “I won’t. I’ll stay right here. Don’t hex me, okay? I’ve had more than my share.”

  Emma tilted her head and bit her lip, studying him from afar. Her eyes unfocused for a moment, but Chris remained where he was, not moving a muscle. “Chris?” The uncertainty hadn’t left her voice.

  “In the flesh. Turns out I’m harder to kill than anyone realized.” He smiled, but it faded when she didn’t smile back.

  “How is that even possible?”

  “Believe me, I asked the same question. We all did. The best Cathy could come up with is that it’s because I’m a wolf, that I went into some sort of magical stasis when my spirit left my body. But even she’s not a hundred percent sure.”

  Emma relaxed visibly, her shoulders lowering and stance shifting. That golden glow lingered around her, however. “You know who she is, right?”

  “Yeah, she’s Joey’s godmother.”

  Emma’s mouth dropped open. She recovered swiftly, though. “Joey’s godmother is the High Priestess of the San Diego coven?”

  “Uh, former High Priestess, apparently. But I get the impression that’s a recent development, so I don’t fault you being out of the loop.”

  “Shit.” The magic aura winked out around her.

  “Can I come in now?”

  Emma nodded, and he crossed the threshold, but he didn’t get far before she ran over and flung her arms around him, squeezing tightly. He hugged her back.

  “It really is you, isn’t it?” She tipped her head back to look up at him, cheeks wet with tears.

  “Yeah, it’s me.” He brushed the tears from her cheeks with gentle thumbs, but she buried her face against his chest immediately afterward.

  “I’m so sorry, Chris. I never thought they’d come after you. It had to have been that damn bank account, but I don’t know how they connected it to me. I was so careful.”

  He guided her over to sit on the edge of the bed, biting back a groan as he settled beside her. He must not have been entirely successful, because she looked over at him with concern.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, just a little stiff from… being a stiff. Ha.” He chuckled, but he did it alone. “Sorry, just a little gallows humor. Oh god, now I’m doing it without meaning to.”

  That did spark a chuckle from her. Her eyes lingered on him the way Joey’s had the previous night, as if she couldn’t believe he was sitting there in front of her. He could understand the sentiment.

  “I’m sorry about Cheryl,” he said. It had been barely forty-eight hours since Emma had lost her wife. The fact that she was even functioning spoke volumes about her quiet strength.

  Emma’s green eyes lowered abruptly. She didn’t say anything for a long moment, then softly said, “Me too.”

  An awkward silence settled between them, prompting Chris to ask, “Do you want some breakfast? Sara made an amazing spread. I’m sure some of it’s vegan-friendly. If not, you’ve got free rein of the kitchen. The housekeeper’s not coming in today for, uh, obvious reasons.”

  Emma lifted her eyes again, brows pinching together. “Oh shit. You’re not dead… what are you going to tell the cops?”

  “I have no idea. I guess I could just say I went to Vegas for a week and didn’t tell anyone, but that won’t explain the empty coffin.” He shrugged. “I’m hoping my mother has some ideas that don’t involve a new identity. I’m not quite ready to give up my life, you know?”

  “Yeah, that can be rough.”

  Chris winced, belatedly remembering that she had some experience with that. She’d run away from a cult-like coven in Nevada a few years back; their quest to track her down and bring her back into the fold was what had started this whole mess.

  “So… how are you handling all this?” she asked, changing the subject.

  Chris thought about it. “Okay. It’s all a bit overwhelming, you know? It’s great, don’t get me wrong. It’s wonderful. But…”

  “But you’ve been through some shit.”

  Chris’s lips curved in a small smile. “Exactly. It’s going to take me a while to unpack it all, you know? Or maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just leave it packed, shove it in the back of the closet—so to speak—and try to get on with my life.”

  Emma snorted softly. “That’s certainly the healthy way to go about it.”

  “Hey, I’ve always been a little crazy. It’s what you like about me.” He nudged her shoulder with his.

  “Maybe what Joey likes about you. Speaking of which, how did that reunion go?” Her brows lifted.

  He smirked. “Way less interesting than you’re probably thinking, but it was fine. We’re fine.”

  “Hey, the last time I saw you two together, you were going at it like, well, like it was your last night on earth.”

  Chris rubbed his face. “Yeah, I know. And you weren’t the only witness.” He’d been lost in the moment at the time, but half the pack—including his mother—had been there.

  “Did you at least talk about it?”

  “Of course not.”

  Emma sighed and laid her hand over his, giving his fingers a squeeze. “Chris… you’ve got a second chance. Don’t repeat the same mistakes.”

  Chris turned his hand over and squeezed hers. He nodded, but couldn’t suppress the feeling that whatever was between him and Joey was the least of his problems at present.

  Joey didn’t like Chris being out of her sight. She’d spent the night in his room, exhaustion claiming her at some point, and when she woke… he was gone. That’d sparked a bit of panic before she discovered he’d just gone down the hall to the bathroom.

  After he left the dining room, she spent the rest of her morning meal glancing at the doorway every time she thought she heard someone approach, hoping that he’d return with Emma. He hadn’t yet, when Adelaide set her napkin aside and pushed back from the table.

  “Josephine, Samuel, please join me in my study when you finish eating.”r />
  “Yes, Mother,” Sam said.

  Joey blinked. Being summoned to the Alpha’s den first thing in the morning never boded well. She glanced across the table at Sam, who was polishing off what remained on his plate quickly. He was still chewing when he pushed back his chair, drained the last of his coffee, and then headed off without a backward glance.

  “Who do they think is going to do the dishes today?” Joey wondered aloud, lips twisting in a smirk.

  “Eh, Ben and I will do it,” Jon said.

  “We will?” Ben was surprised enough to answer with his mouth full.

  “I can take care of it,” Sara said, and pushed to her feet. She’d been sitting there in front of an empty plate for a while. The woman ate like a bird, and always finished first, but wouldn’t leave the table before Adelaide.

  Chuckling, Jon caught her arm and pulled her back down. He leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek. “No way. You cooked, we clean. Them’s the rules.”

  “Do you even know how to work the dishwasher?” Joey asked, smiling behind her coffee mug.

  Jon grinned. “What do you think I need Ben for?”

  “Work, work, work,” Ben said, but it was good-natured grousing. He stood and began picking up empty plates. Jon followed suit while Sara sat watching them, actually looking a bit forlorn, like the stepsister that didn’t get to go to the ball.

  “All right, come on, babe. You can put the leftovers away,” Jon said.

  Sara smiled and hopped up to round up serving bowls.

  “Don’t forget about Emma,” Joey said. “She’s vegan, so—”

  “Got it,” Sara said, and nodded. “I’ll make her a plate.” She disappeared through the swinging door before Joey could get another word in.

  Joey chuckled and shook her head. “I’ve never seen anyone else get that excited about cooking and cleaning. Maybe we should hire her out.”

  “Then she’d never want to do it here,” Ben said. He paused by her on his way to the kitchen. “You done with that?”

  Joey speared the last couple of potato chunks from her plate and motioned for him to go ahead.