Grave Rites: An Urban Fantasy Adventure (Grant Wolves Book 6) Page 2

  “Why the hell not?”

  “It would burn Leta, hard. She’d get fired, wouldn’t be able to work in law enforcement again, and any cases that she has open would be vulnerable to being thrown out too. Colt says not to touch her, that she’s been through too much already.” Jon snorted, making his opinion on that sentiment clear.

  “He doesn’t owe that bitch a goddamn thing.” Chris shook his head vehemently.

  “I’ll drink to that.” Jon clinked his long-necked bottle to Chris’s.

  They both drank, and silence settled between them. Chris’s gaze wandered to the bar, where the bartender was hamming it up for a pretty girl, tossing bottles around while he mixed drinks like a boozy jester.

  “You could overrule him, you know.”

  Chris’s eyes snapped back to Jon. “I’m not that kind of Alpha.”

  “Is Joey?” Jon sipped his beer placidly, draping an arm along the back of the booth.

  Chris hesitated, and that was answer enough. Joey would urge him to do whatever needed to be done to get Colt out of jail. The moon madness that came over a wolf that went too long between shifts wasn’t something they’d wish on their worst enemy. But it wasn’t just Colt’s sanity at stake; if he gave in and shifted in a cell one night during the full moon, the jig was up for all of them. Countless generations had managed to keep lycanthropy a secret from human authorities. Joey’d die before she let that end on her watch. Hell, she’d floated the idea of breaking Colt out of jail if the trial looked like it was heading for a conviction. The thought of that caper alone made his skin itch.

  Jon smirked. “Relax. I’m not gonna go over your head, man.”

  “That’s not a thing with us.”

  “If you say so.” Jon set his beer aside and tucked his tie into his shirt as the waiter appeared with their wings.

  “Can I get you gentlemen anything else? Refills?” the waiter asked.

  “Yes, please.” Jon grabbed a wing and bit into it, making an appreciative noise. He quickly stripped the bone of meat and skin and licked his sauce-smeared lips with a feral grin. “Damn this is good. I haven’t had wings since Sam left. Sara says I have to watch my cholesterol if I want to see two hundred.”

  Chris chuckled. “You haven’t even seen one hundred yet, bro. But I get it. I miss your ‘wingman’ too. Have you heard from him lately?”

  Jon shook his head, his expression sobering as he plucked another morsel of deep-fried poultry from the basket. “You?”

  “Not since last week. We didn’t expect him to be gone this long. Hell, it’s been almost a month since he left. Do you think there’s more to this than him wanting to make amends with Jessica?” Jon and Sam were pretty tight, despite being decades apart in age and as different as night and day. If anyone would know, it’d be Jon.

  Jon’s easy smile returned. “I think he wants to make more than amends with Jessica.”

  Chris groaned and rubbed his eyes, glad he hadn’t dirtied his fingers with buffalo sauce yet. “Jesus, man, I did not need that image.”

  “What? I could’ve been talking about papier-mâché.”

  “You were not talking about papier-mâché. I don’t think Sam even knows what papier-mâché is. I doubt there’s a sports team for it.”

  Jon snorted. “Everyone knows what papier-mâché is. But you’re right. I was talking about the midnight train to pound town. And puppies. Gorgeous, raven-haired, puppies.”

  “You’re disgusting. How would you feel if I called your kid a puppy?”

  “If the adorable fluffy ears fit…”

  Chris scanned the table for something benign to throw at his brother but came up empty. There was no way he was throwing a salt shaker, much less hot wings. “But seriously. You think he’s got a thing for Jess? Really?”

  Jon shrugged. “He’s never said anything to me about it, but I hope so. It’s about damn time he settled down. Never thought you and Joey would beat him to it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Jon waved a half-eaten wing in a dismissive gesture. “Nothing personal. Just that he’s pushing ninety, and—you know, we’re getting off track here. We’re supposed to be talking about Colt’s martyr complex. I’m doing my best, but I’m not a miracle worker. We won the battle today, but the war is far from over. And it’s not looking good. Putting Leta on the stand is our best option. Maybe our only option, if you want to keep him from doing serious time.”

  Sighing, Chris fell into his thoughts while Jon continued to devour wings, only stopping to thank the waiter when fresh beers were dropped off. He didn’t like the idea of overruling Colt. As he’d said, he wasn’t that kind of Alpha. But there was a lot riding on this case. A lot more than Colt’s freedom. And as he’d also said… they didn’t owe Leta squat. She’d started this, and she had no one to blame but herself if it came crashing down on her. Maybe it was worth Colt’s agency being taken away to serve the greater good. But he also couldn’t forget that the whole reason Colt was in this mess was that he’d fallen on his sword to protect Chris. That knowledge weighed on him, heavy and dense like a lead ball in his stomach.

  “I’ll talk to Colt and see if I can change his mind. Court’s in recess for the weekend anyway. But I’m not going to overrule him. For now. Keep doing what you do. We’ll see how it goes.”

  Jon shook his head, his disappointment clear. But he held his tongue while he finished his wings and drank half of his fresh beer. Then he motioned at Chris’s untouched basket. “You gonna finish that?”

  Chris pushed it toward him without a word. Was it the right decision? He didn’t know. No one ever said being Alpha would be easy. But it was the decision he could live with, for now.

  2

  “This is delicious,” Joey murmured around a mouthful of decadent strawberry cake with fudge icing. “Justin’s going to make someone a good wife someday.”

  Beside her, Chris laughed and cut off another bite for himself. Joey put her fork down on the edge of the plate and snuggled against his side, making herself stop before she ended up overindulging. They were settled on a wide lounger on the back porch, looking out on the calm lake under the bright half-moon and twinkling stars.

  “A gentleman, a scholar, and a damn good baker,” Chris replied. “I think I’ve gained ten pounds since he moved in.”

  Joey groaned and gave his flat, firm stomach a swat. “Have not. Don’t torment me. Your fucking metabolism, I swear…”

  Snickering, he leaned over to plant a wet kiss on her cheek. His breath smelled so sweet, she couldn’t resist stealing a kiss before he straightened. While she licked the lingering sweetness from her lips, she studied his profile in the darkness. They’d left the porch light off to better enjoy the stars, but there was more than enough light from the moon for their wolf eyes to see.

  Her actions earlier in the day gnawed at her conscience. She’d sent the realtor the official offer but hadn’t heard anything back yet. The reality of what she’d done had long since sunk in, and she dreaded telling Chris about it. He was going to be pissed, and he probably should be. There was a tiny part of her that hoped the offer was rejected, just so she could sweep it under the rug and forget about it. There was another part of her that knew the sooner she told him about it, the better. While they battled it out in the back of her mind, she sipped decaffeinated coffee and enjoyed the peace and quiet of the night as best she could.

  Chris offered her the last bite of the cake on his fork, only eating it after she declined with a shake of her head. He set the small plate on the arm of the lounger, then curled both arms around her and nuzzled her hair.

  “Something on your mind?” he asked.

  There it was. The opening as big as a Mack truck that she could drive her confession through.

  “Let’s get married,” she blurted instead.

  He chuckled. “The courthouse is closed until Monday.”

  “Not soon enough. And there’s a three day waiting period after the application is f
iled.”

  “You’ve done your homework.” Chris pulled back to look into her eyes. “What brought this up?”

  “Nothing. I’m just tired of waiting. Let’s go to Vegas.”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah! Or tomorrow. This weekend. Just you and me.” Joey’s heart was beating a mile a minute by then. It was true enough. She was tired of waiting. She wanted to get married. But this was not the conversation they needed to have.

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes, seriously.” She poked his stomach.

  The uncertainty on his face was far from encouraging. “I dunno, babe. This doesn’t seem like a good time to flit off to Vegas. Sara’s going to have the baby any day now. I need to talk to Colt this weekend while court is in recess. And with Sam gone, who would we leave in charge?”

  This was now officially tied for the most disappointing moment of Joey’s entire day and edging into the lead. They were the same tired excuses. Not invalid, but not what she’d wanted to hear either. Sighing, she pulled away and swung her legs over the edge of the lounger.

  He caught her arm. “Hey. You know I want nothing more than to marry you, right?”

  “You have a funny way of showing it.” Joey pulled her arm away and stood before facing him. The hurt in his eyes did little to stem the frustration building inside her. “You’ve been stalling for weeks. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.”

  “I haven’t been stalling.”

  “You have! Every time I’ve brought up the wedding, it’s been something. ‘We can’t do it until Sam gets back.’ ‘We can’t leave in the middle of the trial.’ ‘Sara’s too pregnant.’”

  Chris rubbed the back of his neck. “Those are all very legitimate concerns…”

  “Okay, so tell me this: If not now, when? Because it’s starting to feel like you don’t want to get married at all anymore.”

  She turned on her heel and stalked for the back door, well aware of the sound of him rising and following her. His legs were longer, and he caught up easily with her, slamming a hand against the porch door before she could open it.

  “That’s not true.” He all but growled the words as he loomed behind her.

  She glanced over her shoulder at him, unruffled. “Talk is cheap. Put your money where your mouth is, Martin.” Then she swatted his arm away so she could open the door.

  He followed her inside. “What the hell is going on with you tonight? I’ve never known you to be this selfish.”

  “Selfish?” Joey’s voice took on a shrill edge as she whirled to face him, nearly spilling her coffee in the process. “How dare you. You agreed to Vegas weeks ago. You said you wanted to do it as soon as possible. And there’s been nothing but roadblocks since then.”

  “I didn’t agree to elope! I agreed to compromise. You want to deny Dad the chance to walk his only daughter down the aisle? And Sara’s baby shower is tomorrow. You want to bail on her?”

  Okay, when he put it that way, it did sound selfish. But that just made her angrier. She stalked to the sink and poured the rest of her coffee out, then dropped the mug amongst the rest of the dishes waiting to be loaded into the dishwasher. It clattered noisily against the plates and other sundries.

  “Of course I don’t want those things. I just want to get this over with.”

  “Get it over with.” He snorted. “How romantic.”

  “That’s not— That’s not what I meant.” Joey pushed away from the counter with a growl and swept past him in the direction of the living room.

  “Then what did you mean? Don’t walk away from me, dammit!”

  Joey spun to find him right behind her. She jabbed his chest with a finger. “You’re right, okay? I’m being selfish. I’m a horrible friend, sister, and daughter. But fuck you for pointing it out.”

  Chris followed her into the living room, where Jenny and Lucy sat on the couch. Given that neither Joey nor Chris had been keeping their voices down, their packmates had undoubtedly heard everything since they came back into the house. The women said not a word, just kept their eyes forward and continued playing their video game.

  Embarrassed, frustrated, and on the verge of angry, self-loathing tears, Joey shoved her feet into her running shoes and grabbed her keys off the hook.

  “Where are you going?” Something shifted in his tone. Less angry. More worried.

  Joey risked a glance, and her heart ached over the heartbroken look in his baby blue eyes. She really had made a mess of this. “Jon and Sara’s. They probably need some help with the baby shower setup. Decorating cupcakes or something.” She paused, then added, “Don’t wait up.”

  “Please don’t drive angry, babe.”

  She didn’t answer, just wrenched open the door and flung herself outside so she could escape before the tears started to flow.

  The last thing she heard as she pulled the door shut firmly was Lucy’s quiet murmur. “I don’t like it when Mommy and Daddy fight.”

  Joey fled down the front steps, half expecting Chris to follow her again.

  Fortunately, he didn’t. She’d done enough damage for one night, and she didn’t have the words to make things right.

  Despite her telling him not to, Chris had waited up. Joey hadn’t come home. He’d finally dozed off around 4 a.m. on the couch, only to be awakened two hours later when Jenny came stampeding down the stairs in search of coffee and a ride into town. He’d been tempted to let her take his car and try to get some more sleep, but he had an appointment with Cathy for astral walking practice he couldn’t miss. Wouldn’t miss. No matter how tired he was, or how much his chest ached in the wake of his fight with Joey.

  Fighting with her wasn’t uncommon, though he did his best to avoid it. They were both alphas and bound to butt heads from time to time. Usually their fights led to spectacular makeup sex.

  Not this time.

  He managed to kill a couple of hours dropping Jenny off at her summer job at the university bookstore and grabbing some breakfast and coffee at Leslie’s, a little diner his friend Naomi worked at. Though, she wasn’t around, so it must’ve been her day off. He spent the meal staring out the window and checking his phone every few minutes to see if there was anything from Joey. He tried calling. Texting. They needed to talk, rather than letting this wound fester. But all he got was radio silence. After breakfast, he finally caved and went astral to look for her. He found her jogging in Jon and Sara’s quaint Madison Park neighborhood. That calmed his worries, but left him annoyed. Annoyed and heartsick.

  Now Chris rubbed his chest absently as he walked up the path to Cathy’s back door. Standing on the back stoop, he dropped his keys twice while trying to find Cathy’s on his keyring. He rubbed his face as he let himself in, wondering if he was really in any condition for astral walking practice. But if nothing else, maybe Cathy would be able to give him some advice. That was something she was always good for.

  The scent of coffee lingering in the air gave him pause. Cathy preferred tea. The only time she broke out the coffee pot was if she had visitors. Chris was considered family, so usually he had to make his own if he wanted some. Voices drifting out of the sitting room confirmed his suspicions. He didn’t want to interrupt, and he was early, so he helped himself to a cup of coffee, moving quietly around the bright, airy kitchen.

  “Two Seattle witches have gone missing. It’s unlikely to be a coincidence,” Cathy said in the next room. “You should inform the others. Call a meeting.”

  Chris didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but between his general fatigue and his preternaturally sharp ears, he couldn’t help himself. Missing witches?

  “I agree it’s cause for concern, but I don’t want to create a panic.” The other voice was deep and masculine. “The coven’s regular weekly meeting is tomorrow. We can discuss it then.”

  “Ethan…”

  “Catherine. You know I respect the hell out of you, but you promised you wouldn’t interfere when you settled here.”

  Chris considered taking his co
ffee outside to give them privacy, but the conversation had piqued his interest, and he couldn’t unhear it. So he wandered into the living room with his coffee instead.

  The man on the couch, Ethan, stood as Chris walked into the room. The short, slender man eyed Chris with a frown. His dark hair was short but in need of a trim, a contrast to his neatly trimmed goatee. A silver ring pierced his left nostril.

  Cathy remained seated but looked over at Chris and smiled as he approached her chair.

  “Sorry to interrupt. I know I’m early.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her gray head.

  “It’s okay, child. I think we’re about done here.” She gave Ethan a cool look. “Have you two met?”

  “Haven’t had the pleasure,” Chris said, shifting his coffee to his left hand so he could offer a handshake. “Chris Martin.”

  Ethan closed the gap and shook his hand firmly, meeting his eyes. “Ethan Daniels.”

  “Ethan’s the High Priest of the Seattle coven,” Cathy said.

  Chris nodded, the conversation he’d walked in on suddenly making a lot more sense. “Nice to meet you. What’s this about missing witches? Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear.”

  Ethan raised his brows, and his eyes unfocused for a second. He tilted his head. “A wolf, eh?”

  Cathy cleared her throat softly. “Chris and his fiancée are the Alphas of Seattle.”

  Ethan’s gaze shuttered, and he took a step back. “I wasn’t aware Seattle had an Alpha, much less two.”

  “Technically, we’re Alphas of the Granite Falls pack, but Seattle is within our territory,” Chris said. “Anyway… missing witches? What’s going on?”

  “A coven matter.” Ethan shook his head. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

  “I have several good friends in your coven, Mr. Daniels. I’d say it’s absolutely something I need to worry about.”

  “One of them is Naomi,” Cathy said.

  Chris’s head whipped around so fast, he nearly gave himself whiplash. “Naomi is missing?” Naomi was Cathy’s former student and had been embedded in the cult that’d kidnapped Chris and his mother a few months ago. She had been key in their rescue and had become a dear friend. There wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for her, and if she was in some sort of danger… his wolf sat at attention, intense and focused despite his lingering fatigue.