A Shift in the Water (19 page)

They moved on to Olivia Parker next. Livie didn’t have any family left. She’d been adopted as a baby, by a family who had no idea she was a werewolf. Cade remembered her telling him about her first shift. She’d freaked out and run away from home. But Livie was smart and strong and once she’d endured her first shift, turning into her wolf at will was easy. She ran through the forest for five nights using her enhanced sense of smell to find her way to Mike’s pack in Bellingham—two towns away.

He closed his eyes, remembering her, and a smile tugged at his lips. “She tracked Mike down and begged him to take her in. He refused and brought her back to her family, but every month after that, he’d pick her up after she snuck out of the house and let her run with his fledgling pack. Ollie was with him then I think. Chrissy too.” He leaned back and rubbed his hands over his face. “It feels so good to remember. Even this little bit.”

He reached out and threaded his fingers through hers. Mara twisted their joined hands and stroked his palm. Scar tissue broke up the skin, covered half of his palms and patches of his fingers, but the tips were intact. “What happened here?”

“Don’t ask me that.” He tried to pull away, but she held on tight.

“I
am
asking. Tell me. You need all of your memories back. The good and the bad. I don’t think you get one without the other. What happened to you?”

His eyes glistened with unshed tears. His voice shook. “The ground was like lava. There was a concrete pad I slept on. Lived on. But all around it . . . every step burned. Those scars . . . are where the wolf’s . . . my paw pads were burned repeatedly. I can’t really feel much there.”

“Tell me about the bad woman.”

Mara linked her arm with his. Every time she asked about the woman who hurt him, Cade’s heartbeat raced and sweat dampened his brow. She seemed to dislike pressing him, but she was right. Recovering his memories was the only way he’d feel safe again. It was the only way he could stay with Mara and he wanted very much to stay. He needed it.

“I think I can see her now. A little bit. She’s tall and thin. Dark hair. But that’s it. I can hear her. She called me
dog
.” He spat the last word. He leapt up and paced the room. “I can’t see the rest of my pack. But I do see fire. And I hear bursts of sound. Screams. Bill’s neck cracking. My shop is a blur. Hell, all of Bellingham is a blur.

“There was a cage. She kept me in a fucking cage. I had to dig my way out.” He clenched his burnt fingers, remembering the feel of the charmed earth. “It hurt. I ran. I didn’t know where I was. Shit. I was going to die.” The deep, bone-chilling fear of her standing over him, hands glowing, his life about to end—it was all too much.

“I remember you. The bikini. I knew you’d help me. Or I’d die and it wouldn’t matter.”

Mara rose and grabbed his wrist. He jerked out of her reach. “Cade, breathe for me. You’re safe here.”

“No, I’m
not.
She’s out there. And I don’t even know her face. She could live next door to you and I wouldn’t know. All I can remember is the fire and that fucking cage. Nothing in between. Fuck. I can’t do this. I don’t want to remember. Not their deaths. Not whatever she did to me.”

“I don’t think you have much choice.”

“I should have let her kill me!”

Cade flung open her front door and fled, his shoes slapping on the concrete. He heard Mara run after him, but he veered around the corner, unable to force himself to look back.

“Cade!”

He didn’t have a coat, a wallet, or a cent to his name. Where the hell was he going? It didn’t matter. Mara jogged to the end of the block, calling his name once more, but he was way ahead of her, putting footstep after footstep between him and the painful return of his memories.

The sun kissed the horizon outside her kitchen window. Mara uncorked the bottle of wine and poured herself a healthy glass. She’d paced for a bit, trying to decide whether to get in her car and try to find Cade, but she had no idea where he might have gone and she wanted to be here when he came back—if he came back.

“To my health,” she said, toasting the air. Did a toast still count if you didn’t have anyone to toast with? The Columbia Valley Merlot burst over her tongue. She rubbed her hands together in anticipation of sinking them deep into a bowl of flour and butter. It had been forever since she’d made a pie.

The steaks went on a plate for seasoning. She diced the potatoes, destemmed the kale, and set some freshly made pie dough in the fridge to chill. It felt good to be back in the kitchen with the energy to cook. Wendy, her mother, had been a gourmet cook. Of course, that had likely been her heart’s undoing. Every meal Wendy made included something fried. One summer day, when Mara was sixteen, she and her mother had been hanging out in the kitchen. Wendy was dredging her famous fried chicken in batter and collapsed. By the time Mara got the 911 operator on the phone, Wendy was gone. From that day forward, Mara made it her mission to eat her veggies and workout. She probably needn’t have worried. Wendy had chronically high cholesterol and heart disease throughout her entire family.

Mara had no idea if her family history included any disease, but other than her mysterious illness, she’d never been sick a day in her life. She’d been adopted at six months old. All she knew about her birth family was that she’d been born in California. When Mara had been old enough to wonder, Wendy had told her about her birth mother. The woman had been in the desert with Mara’s older sister, Katerina, late one night. The details were sketchy, but Kylie Olmstead had fallen off a cliff and broken her neck. There’d been a man there who’d apparently tried to save her, but had failed.

She’d met Katerina once—on a holiday visit home from college—and the woman had frightened her. Katerina had talked about that man who had tried to save their mother as if he’d broken her neck with his bare hands. The glee Katerina exuded when she’d told Mara of the man’s death was not normal. She’d even said, “One day, little sister. One day you’ll understand what I did and you’ll love me. I know it.” 

After Mara had kicked Katerina out, she’d been sick for a week. She’d wondered if Katerina had killed the man herself, but she didn’t have any proof.  She didn’t even know where Katerina lived.

Apples, cinnamon, butter, sugar, and a sprinkle of bourbon formed the pie filling. With a final dusting of sugar and an egg wash, the pie went into the oven and Mara lit a dozen candles around the living room. She needed the soothing, flickering light and warm scent of vanilla to calm her nerves. A vague sense of discomfort twisted in her belly with each match strike. She loved having a fire in the hearth and lighting candles to set the mood in her home, but striking the matches always bothered her.

The wind kicked up and rattled the windows. Seattle was under a storm warning. There was every possibility the power would go out before the end of the night and she was worried about Cade. She flipped on the television to distract herself from thoughts of him cold and alone. If he wasn’t back by the time the pie was done, she’d tack a note on her door and go look for him. She was halfway through an episode of a dark crime drama when her doorbell rang.
Oh Goddess, please let it be Cade
, she thought.

He stood sheepishly on her porch, his arms tight around his torso. He shivered in the cold night air, his hair tousled and shining in the glow from the streetlight. “Can I come in?”

Mara stood aside and allowed him to enter. He inhaled deeply and an appreciative purr rumbled through his chest. They stared at each other, Cade’s body rigid, a few spatters of rain dotting the flannel shirt. She ached to wrap her arms around him, to soothe and comfort. The oven timer dinged, freeing her from his gaze. She locked the door and retrieved the pie, setting it on the counter to cool. A quick glance at the clock told her it was close to seven. He’d been gone for three hours.

“I thought you’d be halfway to Canada by now,” Mara muttered, brushing past him to shut off the television.

“I made it as far as the lake. Sat there for a while. Thinking. Remembering. Or trying to. Then I wandered a bit. I couldn’t find my way back here in the dark and the wind. Nothing smelled right. I was about to give up and start knocking on doors, beg someone to use their phone when I caught your scent a few blocks away.”

He grabbed her when she tried to scoot past him again to get to the kitchen. His arms banded around her back and he buried his nose in her hair. “I was scared I wouldn’t find you again.”

“Cade,” Mara breathed. He felt so good. Hard and strong and full of life. Like his wolf. But now he smelled like her lavender soap and the musky deodorant she’d bought him. For a moment, she let herself relax into his embrace. When he pulled back enough to meet her eyes, she pressed her lips to his. He tasted slightly salty, with a hint of chocolate and coffee. He groaned and deepened the kiss, pressing her back against the wall of the kitchen. His tongue slipped along hers, tasting, dancing over her teeth. Cade’s hips ground against her, his hands sliding lower to cup her ass. His heart pounded against her breast. Need raced through her, dampening her panties and her palms. The stubble on his upper lip rasped against her skin. He lifted her up so she could settle against his chest and wrap her legs around his hips.

His breath, ghosting over her cheek, carried his unique scent around her.
More
. The satisfied growl in his throat spurred her to tighten her legs, run her hand up his back and through his hair.

The callouses on his fingers sent a shiver down her spine as he slid his hand up under her sweater. He reached her bra and fumbled with the clasp. His erection pressed against her.

Brrring
! The sound of her mobile phone startled them both. Cade set Mara down and moved away so quickly she didn’t realize she was standing until he spoke.

“I can’t. I’m sorry. That was . . . a mistake.”

Brrring
! Embarrassed, needing something to distract her from his words, Mara dove for the phone and glanced at the caller ID. Jen. She hit the ignore button.

“A mistake?” She licked her swollen lips. She could still taste him on her. Obviously she’d misread him. He’d wanted her comfort. As a friend. She kicked herself for assuming he wanted more. And for being willing to give it to him. Just because she was in the middle of a lengthy dry spell didn’t mean she should jump into bed with a man she barely knew. “I’m sorry. I thought . . . it seemed like you . . . never mind. Forget . . .”

He ran a hand through his shaggy hair. “No,” he growled. “That’s not it. God, honey. Not even close. You’re gorgeous. And smart and kind. And you have no idea how much I wanted to kiss you. Want to kiss you again. But werewolves—alphas anyway—don’t have casual sex. I won’t use you to scratch an itch. You deserve better.” Cade grimaced and shifted his hips. His erection had to be painful if she could see it through his jeans.

“Oh.” She backed away and turned to the stove. Starting the potatoes and preheating the pan for the steaks helped cool the flush in her cheeks and made her next admission easier. “It’s been a long time. For me. And . . . I feel like I know you. Even if you don’t know yourself. I trust you. Plus you’ve got that whole damaged-male thing working for you.” She waved her hand and behind her, Cade choked back a laugh.

“Damaged male?”

“Oh you know. Women like to fix things. And you need some fixing.”

“You can’t fix what’s wrong with me,” he said quietly. “I’m a danger to you and the longer I stay, the greater the risk.”

Mara couldn’t tell if he was talking about the risk from the fire elemental or from the heat between them. Both, from her standpoint. She looked back at him. His luminous blue eyes were filled with pain. “Enough of this for now,” she said, taking a healthy sip of wine. “Dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.”

Cade hovered in the kitchen doorway with his hands shoved in his pockets. “Can I help?”

“You can set the table,” she said, angling her head towards the cabinet. “Dishes up there, silverware in that first drawer.”

If Cade could kick himself any harder, he’d leave bruises.
A mistake? That’s the best you could do?
Kissing Mara wasn’t a mistake. Well, unless you counted the fact that his cock was currently throbbing so hard he couldn’t think straight. The mistake was stopping. If her phone hadn’t rung, he would have mated with her before he even knew her last name. His wolf wanted her. Two weeks of sleeping close to her at night, breathing in that intoxicating scent, coupled with his own insecurities meant he wanted nothing more than her arms around him, her lips on his, and to lose himself inside of her.