How to Tame a Werewolf: Seven Brides for Seven Shifters, Book 3 (15 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Rue woke up with sunlight on her face. A feline stretch made her feel better. Her muscles refused to loosen up at first but she finally worked out the kinks. She scanned the room through bleary eyes and realized she was back in Ian’s bed.

Cora!
I healed her.

Something on the periphery of Rue’s vision caught her attention. She turned in time to see a camouflaged figure dash through the open balcony doors. Along with the green, khaki and brown speckled clothes, the intruder had covered up in scent blocker—one of those chemical concoctions hunters wore to sneak up on animals. The almost but not quite natural botanical odor tipped her off.

She darted off the bed to pounce. Everything that happened since she’d met Ian, up until Cora’s accident, had changed Rue. Strange how one tragedy stole your peace of mind, while another restored your faith in yourself and in the possibility of something wonderful. Rue wasn’t bad luck. Bad luck had happened to her. They weren’t the same thing. And she now knew the value of fighting to make amends and rebuilding her life. She hoped her parents learned the same lesson one day. But for now, if they didn’t want her, she didn’t want them either.

Those revelations fueled her as she bounded after the camouflaged figure. A mass of fur hurtled at her head. She sidestepped the foul smelling missile and it landed on the floor with a brittle thud.

The corpse lay at her feet, a dead cat with milky eyes and stiff limbs.

The smell of disease wafted from the poor thing. Rue suspected it hadn’t been killed but had died of some sickness and was then used to send her a message. She rushed to go after the figure but couldn’t make her legs work properly. Her frozen feet tripped her up and she hit the floor hard, falling on her side.

The ocelot inside her let out a strangled cross between a roar and a yowl and Rue lost consciousness.

Ian couldn’t help but strut up the main walk leading to Somerfield Manor. He’d reclaimed the leadership position by using his wits to defeat Garrett. Bonus, according to his text messages, Lennox and Garrett worked out their problems in the jail cell. It felt good to get something right after two years of messing up.

His phone chirped. Pulling it out of his pocket, Ian saw a picture of his mom and Stan on a cruise ship. He wrestled with his gag reflex. Grown men didn’t react to their mother dating the town sheriff by muttering things like “gross” and rolling their eyes.

“What’s up, Stan?” he answered.

“Well now, I’ve got some reports back on that bottle explosion at The Grape Escape. Son, I have to tell you I don’t feel a whole lot like a lawman with this case. My Cora nearly died.”

“What came back in the reports?” Ian asked. Stan didn’t have to finish his statement. Ian understood and echoed the sentiment.

“It was rigged, son,” Stan said, his accent thickening with emotion. “
T’weren’t
anything Rue ordered. Someone used her name because they were hoping to hurt her. I don’t know if they intended on losing the job for her or physically injuring her. Maybe both.”

Papers rustled on the other side of the phone. Ian did his best to keep his wolf at bay. They were both enraged. Someone purposely tried to hurt Rue. They’d missed when they’d hit his mother and Gayle, which was bad enough. But because they’d missed they’d probably strike again.

“Here it is,” Stan said, followed by the sound of him shaking the papers. “The culprit bought a brand of Prosecco that had been on national recall for exploding. Along with four bottles of the Prosecco they added two Drano bottle bombs to the mix.”

“The hell?” Ian said.

“Yep, a real smart version of the bomb too,” Stan said. “They wrapped the tin foil in wax paper so it took longer for the chemicals to eat through and react with the aluminum. The culprit only needed to utilize your regular courier service delivery time and add their box to the rest sitting out front.”

“Any fingerprints?” Ian asked.

“Not as of yet. But I’m betting the culprit was too smart for that. They’d done enough surveillance to know Rue and Cora were supposed to be there together that day. Cora changed those plans last minute.” Stan paced his office. Ian could hear his footfalls against the tiled floors. “Anyways, I’ll let you know if anything else comes up after a few more tests.” Silence. “They ain’t gonna get away with this, Ian. No way, no how. Let’s hope I have the strength to lock the culprit up proper when we catch them. Otherwise, I’ll beat them halfway to dead.”

“Thanks, Stan.” Ian retracted his claws, unaware they’d unsheathed. “I’m heading inside now to check on my family. I’ll text you if anything comes up.”

“Wait, son,” Stan called. “There’s something else. The lab techs found traces of scent blocker on the packaging, especially the label. So now you wolves will know what to smell for.”

“Got it,” Ian said. “I’ll text you.” He disconnected and mentally searched for any reason someone would go after Rue, or even his mother. It’d be stupid to discount that possibility.

When he opened his front door, a large ocelot shot past him at a full lope. Ian hadn’t had much of a chance to admire his mate’s animal. Her size, speed and the dappled pattern of black and gold on her creamy fur brought out a grin of pride. His wolf damn near sat up and begged him to give chase. If his mate wanted to play they should play.

“Ian, you have to go after her,” Pop-pop said in his lyrical cadence. “Something’s wrong.”

Ian went on alert. “What’s wrong, Pop-pop?”

His great granddad met him halfway across the two-story foyer. “I heard her moving. I took her some food. Then when I opened the door I had to duck.” Pop-pop leaned low over his cane to illustrate. “Your mate jumped over my head and ran down the hallway.”

Ian looked out of the open door to watch Rue disappear into the vines. “What happened in that room?”

Pop-pop waved his hands wildly in the air. “There’s a stink. The room is torn apart, shredded with claws. I thought our sweet Rue had lost control of the ocelot inside. Gone feral. But, no.” Pop-pop shook his head sadly. “There’s a dead cat in your room. That must have incited her rage.”

“I’ll bring her home,” Ian said, running for the door.

Pop-pop continued to speak as Ian moved. “Sometimes we forget. Every bad thing we go through, our animals go through too. The cat lost her brother that night as well.”

Ian chased his mate into the vines on foot and kept chasing her for more than three hours. Yet he hadn’t been able to bring her home. He’d get close, she’d allow him to pet her, sometimes to scratch her behind her the ears, but that’s as far as he got. After a minute or two, she’d run again.

Four hours into the chase, Ian called on his pack and friends for help. He ordered them to remain in their human forms. A pack of wolves stalking a single cat sounded like more panic to him. To prove his point, if anyone other than Ian approached the cat they drew back with a nasty set of scratches. Garrett had yowled after she caught him in the face. How much more hostile would Rue’s ocelot be against actual wolves?

No, they’d remain human to help keep her calm. Werewolves ran at the same speeds in their human forms, they just avoided it because watching a man move as fast as a car tended to freak out the normals.

But despite their best efforts, nothing helped. With the added advantage of being able to climb trees, Rue’s cat eluded them. Her grace and lithe body also became a liability for the wolves. She’d twist out of their grasps or wriggle her way through the smallest of openings. The day became a relentless series of finding Rue, her going wildcat crazy and kicking their asses, then them chasing her all over again.

When she ended up on the roof of Averdeen Manor, over the top of the sprawling porch, Ian collapsed onto the front lawn in relief. His pack mates followed his lead. All things totaled, they’d run the equivalent of three marathons to get there.

The good thing about being at Averdeen Manor was the opportunity to ask Gran what he should do. His mate kept pushing him away for reasons Ian couldn’t puzzle through.

After resting for a bit, he pushed himself up off the grass and walked up to the front door. He kept his eyes on his kitty as he moved. She watched him right back. Her features remained impassive but she’d tucked her tail tight to her body. A sign of agitation Ian could see in her clenched muscles. His kitty stood at the ready to flee or fight if she needed to.

Gran opened the door the minute his foot landed on the porch. Pop-pop peeked out from behind her. Ian didn’t bother with surprise. These two were full of secrets and magic. The rest of LuPines had only seen an inkling of what they could do as far as Ian could tell.

“Hullo, Ian,” Gran said. “We’ve been waiting for ya’.”

Ian didn’t waste his efforts explaining how the problem started. He knew Pop-pop took care of that part. The old guy had actually witnessed Rue’s freak-out, so he could tell the story better. Ian filled in what came after. Once he’d detailed the day of nonstop chasing, he told Gran and Pop-pop what Stan had said.

Gran slapped the knees of her leather-encased legs. “Oh, honey, I’m mad now,” she said. “If I find out who’s been going after you Somers, I’m going to send my Leni after them. And they’ll regret it.”

That said, Gran poured three glasses of peach lemonade iced tea and offered one to each of the two males. They accepted and she gave them two thumbs up. “It’s delicious.”

As much as he liked iced tea, Ian was too worried to take more than a sip.

“Let’s deal with your sweet Rue first,” Gran said, patting his knee.

“We must consult the Big Book of Weres,” Pop-pop shouted, jumping to his feet.

“The big what of what?” Ian said.

Gran pursed her lips. “Oh, sit down, you.” To Ian she said, “Amon just wants to get into the attic and get his hands on that book.”

Pop-pop shook his fist at her. “You shouldn’t hide it from me. There are things I could learn before I die.”

“I said, sit down.” Gran grabbed the corner of Pop-pop’s shirt and forced him into a seat. “You can’t read it anyway. No shifter can. And it’s not needed for this situation.”

She huffed at Pop-pop. He huffed right back.

“Your grandpop was right.” Gran paused. “Not about needing to consult the Big Book of Weres, but about what’s bothering that cat on my roof. We forget that shifter animals experience the same pain as their humans do. As wild things they’re better at dealing with the harsher side of life. It rolls off their fur, so to speak. However, when something hurts bad enough they don’t have the same mechanisms to deal with their feelings. They can’t talk it out like we do.”

Ian leaned forward. “What do I do to take care of her? I need her to know she’s safe and that we’ll handle whatever comes, together.”

Gran patted his face. “Heh, you’re silly.” When Ian gaped at her, she explained. “You’ve already done that. Rue knows all the intellectual stuff but the cat feels threatened. She’s pissed. Her territory has been violated and she’s somewhat alone. And Amon told me the threat came through a window, the most painful symbol of her life.”

“You’re not telling me what I should do,” Ian said through clenched fangs.

“Well, that’s not what I do. You make your own decisions. But I will tell you this. She’s an animal. Animals aren’t foolish enough to think they’re ever truly safe. She needs to know she’ll have the power to defend her territory. Most of all, she needs to know where she stands within that territory so she’ll better understand how to react to a threat.”

It didn’t make sense. Rue knew all those things. They hadn’t talked everything through yet, but she had to know she’d be his alpha female once they were mated. And he planned to tell her the pack respected her a great deal. What she’d done for his mother, Gayle and Henry meant something to them. His pack mates were excited to have a healer among them too.

Ian shook his head. “It’s not adding up,” he said.

“She’s a
cat
,” Pop-pop said, putting extra emphasis on “cat”.

“And I’m her mate, but she won’t let me near her.”

Pop-pop stood up and stretched. “Find the part of you the cat relates to most.” He looked at Gran. “You want to play a game, young lady?”

“Sure do,” Gran said.

And then the pair of old bastards left Ian sitting there with his mouth open.

Relate to the cat.
He repeated the words inside his head. What did the cat need? Ian’s wolf snorted at him and he finally understood. He ran outside and slid to a stop on the porch. Leaning over the white wooden railing he gave the gathered members of his pack a single command. “Shift.”

And they did.

Ian glanced at the big man sitting on the front porch swing. “Not you, Garrett.”

Wolfman’s brow quirked at him. “You didn’t have to worry about me following your commands,” Garrett said as he pushed to a stand. “I take it Gran told you something ridiculously ambiguous that somehow led you to a universal truth.”

“Pretty much,” Ian said. He leapt off the porch to look up at the cat. Her huge eyes stared back at him. She growled low in her throat as if to say, “try me”.

“I’m going to need your help, Wolfman.”

“What do you need?” Garrett joined him on the lawn. They both watched Rue in case she bolted.

“I’m going to shift,” Ian said. He kicked off his shoes. “Once I’m in wolf form, toss me up onto the roof.”

Garrett glanced up at the skies, shaking his head.

“I could climb up but she’ll probably run from me in human form. That’s why—”

“Stop,” Garrett held up a hand. “You told me I could throw you somewhere. I was in from then on.”

Ian grinned and shifted.

The red wolf barked to his pack and then the old blood grabbed him by the scruff of his neck as though he were a cub. Further insulting him, the man scooped him up by his haunches. The red wolf growled, planning a particularly nasty place to bite the man in payback. One heave and the red wolf went airborne.

There were some things you only understood in the midst of doing them. The red wolf learned something in that moment. Wolves were not meant to fly. It was awful.