How to Tame a Werewolf: Seven Brides for Seven Shifters, Book 3 (16 page)

He landed on the roof and skidded a few feet. Scrambling to regain his footing, he began to run in the opposite direction from the edge and a serious fall. It worked.

His mate’s eyes were on him.
Mine
. He willed the cat to understand as he snorted, tossing his head at her.
Mine.
With his head lowered, he approached one small step at a time. She rose up onto her front paws and inclined her head. He crept closer.
You are mine.

The cat sniffed the air between them. Her head bobbed as she extended her maw toward him and tasted the air between them. Only inches now. Her sinuous body remained motionless, but her big cat eyes were bright and alert.

The red wolf didn’t have words, he had instincts, and they served him well. He utilized his animal nature to get close to the cat he planned to claim. Tentatively, he nudged her. Surprisingly she rolled her face against his muzzle.

Good.

You are mine. I am yours.

He nuzzled her then took the risk of one small lick. The cat relaxed against him. She lowered herself onto the roof. The red wolf lay down beside her, their bodies pressed together.

You are mine. I am yours. All of what I have is yours.
The red wolf rested his head on top of his mate’s back. He needed her to understand. And perhaps she did. She bumped his jaw with the top of her head. Then, with a feline grin, she leapt from the roof.

The red wolf scrambled to the edge. He feared the cat would run again, but she waited for him. The inclination of her head seemed to say,
show me we belong. Show me our territory.

The red wolf howled his victory. One by one his pack mates lifted their voices to join his. Even the old blood, in his man form, howled for them. The cat swayed and smiled waiting for her wolf to show her the things he’d promised.

The red wolf backed up a few steps before he ran and leapt. The wind whooshed past him and he panted. This was the way a wolf was meant to fly. He landed several feet in front of his mate. Feeling feral and out of control, he tossed his head at her, daring her to join him. Without waiting he turned and ran. And he didn’t doubt she followed.

* * * * *

The red wolf, her mate, showed her the entirety of their territory. They roamed the land for hours and as the sun began to fade into the gold and orange of dusk, he led her to a peaceful place. There, he sat at the edge of a cliff overlooking a river and shifted. The cat rubbed against his side. Soon after she shifted and the woman inside her sat beside the man.

Ian held her close. It felt good to have his arm wrapped around her waist while she rested her head on his solid shoulder.

“Is your mom okay?” Rue didn’t want to break the silence but she needed to know.

“She’s great. You healed her,” he said.

“I know. But I was still worried.”

“I know,” he said, nuzzling the top of her head. “You are my mate.”

“And you are mine,” Rue said, playfully baring her teeth. She pounced and nipped his bottom lip to let him know she meant it.

Ian curled his fingers into her hair, pulling her forward for a kiss. The tenderness of his lips on hers melted her. Rue purred.

“For life,” she said.

The skin around his eyes crinkled in one of those smiles she loved. “I ain’t never gonna quit you,” he said. Another kiss, just as tender.

“You woke me up, Kitty,” He exhaled, long and steady. “My heart broke for you. All this time I’ve been mourning an unrequited love. I acted like my hurt was cataclysmic.”

Rue listened, stroking his back as he spoke.

“And maybe since I’ve lived like a prince in a lot of unflattering ways, you could make a case for that. But I realized having the freedom to hurt over something so relatively minor when compared to the hardships around me is another privilege of a prince, and not in a positive way either.”

His next kisses rained over her temples and cheeks. Strong fingers caught in the tiny curls at the nape of her neck. Ian pulled the curls taut and let them go a few times. “You didn’t have the privilege of breaking down over something as petty as a broken heart. You lost your entire world. And you carried on. I had to man up just to reach your level.”

She giggled and buried her nose in his neck, needing his scent draped all over her. A flash of the daydream she’d had back at Cinna Mum’s sprang to mind. In that fantasy she’d envisioned bringing Ian home, after which Cora took one look at her and insisted they get married. Crazy. Dreams didn’t literally come true. Not for Rue. Yet they had. Ian Somers was hers.

Wasn’t it strange? Rue had zealously adhered to her three rules for twenty years and nothing good came out of it. But when she held onto the first two and broke the last one, her entire world opened up. She’d faked it until she made it. She never gave up. And she’d fallen in love.

“You’re beyond amazing, Rue Gray,” Ian said. “Your strength, your beauty, your harebrained schemes…let’s take a break from those for a while, ’kay?”

After a begrudging nod she poked him in his side. “What were you about to say?”

“Eh.” His eyebrows scrunched. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Look, Magic Man, it matters to me.”

A quiet fell over them. Ian’s blue gaze scanned the horizon. Their legs dangled over the ledge. Far below them the Staunton River flowed over rocks and under bridges. “This is my think place.” Ian glanced down at her. “Did I tell you that?”

Snuggling against his side, Rue wrapped her arms around him. “You didn’t need to.”

“I was thinking we could build a little cabin up here.” He enveloped her in a hug. “We’re going to need a place to escape from the pack from time to time. And maybe our cubs would like to come up here on the weekends.”

Rue sighed. “I like the sound of that.”

“I drew you a picture.” Ian chuffed. “You know, in case you couldn’t envision it.”

“I can’t wait to see it, Ian.”

“I can’t wait to make it a reality.” His lips pressed into her wild array of tiny curls. “I can’t wait because I love you, Rue.”

“And I won’t wait because I love you, Ian.”

Chapter Twenty

To celebrate his upcoming mating ceremony Ian called for a Midnight Rum Run a few days later. The pack protested and the level of whine annoyed him. Chasing Rue through and around every part of the LuPines woods had worn them out. Ian grumbled and growled at the response, but Rue teased him out of his mood.

Since he needed the pack to come together, and he wanted it to be a casual gathering, Ian decided to remix the event. Their usual Rum Run became a Midnight Rum Marathon. That name received the same response; the pack stalled out at any implication of running. Why did he want to be pack alpha again? Ian amended the event name for the last time. He called it: The Midnight Rum Movie Marathon at Somerfield Vineyards: Attendance Mandatory or I’ll Maul You. That name stuck; Ian had a hunch it would.

He and Rue talked over his event planning skills on their lunch break. “I know you’re disappointed you won’t get to chase my tail,” she said. “But you can do that anytime.”

Firmly reassured her tail belonged to him, Ian told her the ulterior motives behind calling their pack and friends together.

“It’s more than that, Kitty.” Unable to resist, he swatted her round backside. “Whoever sent that bomb and broke into our bedroom knows us. They’ve spent time around us.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re right. I didn’t get to tell you before, mostly because you weren’t speaking to me—”

Hands pressed together in prayer, he offered her a sheepish, “Sorry.”

She pushed him away. “A few days after your council meeting someone started lurking around me. They don’t show themselves but I can feel them. Whoever it is, they’re malicious, Ian. They wouldn’t flinch at the prospect of setting off a bomb.”

Ian chose a pair of shoes from his closet and sat on an ottoman to put them on. “That’s why we need to mingle tonight, Kitty. Put your nose in as many people’s business as you can.” He smirked at her scoff. “I’ll do the same. We need to see if we can sniff out any traces of that scent blocker our stalker uses.”

“All right,” Rue agreed.

A whiff of arousal caught Ian’s attention. “Ahh, Kitty.” He stood up. “Don’t start anything. I’ve got to go meet the Cinema Bites lady in thirty minutes.”

Rue’s hips swayed in a dead sexy strut over to him. If she kept that up he’d split another pair of pants. A finger poke to the center of his chest pushed him back down. “You can keep your pants on.” Her tongue flickered at the corner of her mouth. “As long as they’re around your ankles.”

* * * * *

Forty-five minutes later a big black food truck, with the words
Cinema Bites
painted across one side, drove up the service road to the back of the Villa. Ian didn’t mind being late to meet the food vendor as he rushed out the back doors and jogged past the terraces. A fifteen-minute quickie with Rue was worth it.

The driver/owner took her time pulling forward and back until she parked the truck exactly where she wanted it on the back lawn. Judging by the careful positioning of the vehicle, each chair placed on the patio terraces would have a great view of the movie screen bolted to one side of the truck. But the wheels had dug furrows into the lawn, tilling the green grass and revealing the red clay beneath. It wasn’t a slight the resident landscaper, Pop-pop, who’d watched the whole thing, could stomach. The noises he made over the destruction of his pristine lawn weren’t sounds of disapproval as much as miniature deaths.

The Cinema Bites food truck owner swung out of the driver’s seat and dusted her hands off, happy with her work. “Hey. I’m Mala,” she said with a little wave.

Pop-pop muttered, “You’re dead,” under his breath and stomped back into the house.

Ian trotted over to meet the tiny woman with the bountiful curves. “I’m Ian.” They shook hands. “How does the movie selection work?”

Mala’s lips formed a moue as she thought it over. “I’m kind of a chick-flick-rom-com-indie-film brought to life through weird science.”

“Uh huh.” Ian tried but he didn’t have a quip. Beyond his lack of a witty response, he mentally searched for a clue to the relevance of that description.

She pinched her glasses frames and readjusted them. “That means I mystically know exactly which movies my audience needs to see.”

Ian nodded again.

“But with the food, you get whatever I want to give you.”

The skin between Ian’s eyes itched. He scratched it to find he’d furrowed his brows at the woman with honeyed skin and long fluffy waves of chestnut hair. Jules came to mind. The two women shared an affably vibrant don’t-fuck-with-me energy. Yet Mala had another set of undeniable traits.

“Want to know how I can tell you’re a friend of Garrett’s?” Ian asked.

“I assume you’re referring to more than our film nerd status,” Mala stated in that slightly dry tone of voice similar to women in black and white films out of the 1940s.

Ian rubbed the back of his neck. “We could go with that, if you’re easily distracted by the ostensible,” Ian said. “What I sense is a vibe of mystery and power each of you carries as though it’s imbued in your skin.”

An eyebrow jerked up in response. “Catch that,” Mala said. “Well, Ian, don’t judge me for the cliché but it takes one to recognize another.” A pause. “A friend of Garrett’s, I mean.”

A grin escaped him. Ian couldn’t help it. “Got it,” he said. “You should come inside and meet my future mate before you pick the films. I want to make her smile tonight.”

“I’m going to show off a little and tell you we’re watching
The Princess and the Frog
,
Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan
, and the first Indiana Jones film,
Raiders of the Lost Ark
.” She snapped her fingers. “That’s just to start.”

What else could be said? Ian bowed to her skills and went inside to find his future mate.

* * * * *

Rue felt Ian enter the house when he returned from his meeting with the food truck lady and lost all concentration. She didn’t know which part of the house he’d disappeared into but his presence hummed pleasantly in her senses.

Pop-pop had come in twenty minutes earlier and had joined Rue, Cora and Stan at the twelve-seat dining room table. The old guy tapped the landscaping elevation he’d drawn, a sprawling design done for her and Ian, which covered over half the table. “Pay attention,” he said. “When you get married it will be in a small piece of The Montazah Palace Gardens brought to America.”

“Ahh, Pop-pop.” Rue waved her hands. “My mind is blown. I’m freaking out.” She grabbed Cora’s hand, forcing her future mother-in-law to look up from the seating arrangement she’d been moving around with Stan like a game of chess.

Cora darted that steel magnolia glance Rue’s way.

“Don’t look at me that way, Ms. Cora,” Rue said, striking a pose. “I’m getting married soon.”

Cora’s expression remained placid. “Don’t bother me, kid, I’m working here,” she teased.

Rue did a little dance in response. Nothing could bring her down, not even her parents and their staunch refusal to acknowledge the life Rue wanted to share with them. She and Cora tried to call, email and send them InterFace notifications incessantly. Nothing. Oh well, fuck ’em. She didn’t mean that, but she wanted to. Just saying the words freed her up in a small way.

Abasi and Felice Gray-Sayf found it too easy to make Rue a scapegoat for their grief. What kind of parents made a teenaged girl who’d lost herself in the midst of mourning choose the streets over living at home? It didn’t matter any more. Rue had discovered her own worth.

Loss destroyed a part of you. Rue knew the truth of that. When she next lost someone she loved, which was inevitable now that she had a new family and a mate, she’d mourn but she’d also find sanctuary inside her best memories of them. No matter what she faced in the future, she’d do her best to live her life in bliss and to cherish whatever time she had with her loved ones.

“Rue Gray,” Stan called. “Are you hearing me?”

“No, sir.”

“I asked if you’d figured out why Ian took,” Stan made air quotes, “revenge on you by putting you to work on those tough jobs?”

The seating chart took on a bit of order. Cora hadn’t looked up from it in thirty minutes, yet somehow she’d managed to interject, “Stanley, darling, our sweet Rue’s not that quick. Oblivious is the word I’d use.”

“Pop-pop,” Rue said, “call Gran and ask her if a shifter can take a healing back.”

Rue received the most elegant face mush ever perpetrated, and she stifled a giggle when Cora’s cultured voice said, “I call keepsies. No take backs.”

Rue pushed away from the table to go get refreshments. She hadn’t stopped laughing when she returned from the kitchen with a couple of beers and a pitcher of fizzy lemonade. Where had Ian gone? It’d be nice to have him there to tease her alongside the rest of the family.

“Granddad,” Cora said. “Please educate Rue on the inner workings of her future mate and husband.”

“Don’t bother me, kid, I’m working here,” Pop-pop said. His lyrical cadence added another level of humor to Cora’s quip. The elder of the house picked up a green marker and colored furiously.

“Granddad,” Cora admonished. “Please elucidate it for her while I argue with Stanley about the number of wild boar shifters he plans to invite.”

Annoyed and not afraid to show it, Pop-pop beckoned Rue over. “Come sit on grandpapa’s lap.” He hunched over, doing his best impersonation of a decrepit old geezer. “I’ll tell you a tale and, oye, it’ll give you such a pain in your hip.”

Stan sighed and hooked his thumbs through his belt loops. “That boy, Ian Orion Somers, worked you that way to prepare you to help him run this place, Rue. Not to pay you back for ditching him. Now why d’you think he did it?”

“Because he’s a demon spawn,” Rue said.

Cora reached over and yanked her hair, then went back to massaging the seating arrangements.

“I don’t often agree with Cora,” Stan said. “But your bulb don’t light up all the way, now does it?”

Rue clutched her pearls. Stan ignored her, precisely the way a father would when he had knowledge to hand down and his kid refused to listen. So Rue shut up and gave him her undivided attention.

Stan puffed up. “Think on it, Arugula, what’s the best revenge?” He paused before answering his own question. “That’d be to block you from getting the job, out you as a liar and ban you from Somerfield Vineyards.”

Oh, yeah. Any one of those and she’d be in a corner somewhere sucking her thumb and mumbling about grapes. But despite his plan, Ian had kept her close to him and systematically helped to make all her dreams come true.

“And another thing,” Stan said, working up a fatherly flow. “About the bridge that Cora asked you about when you got here. Back in Ian’s days at summer camp, he had a counselor he looked up to. I can’t remember that boy’s name but he’d married early. At around eighteen or so.”

Rue yawned demonstratively. “I hope this story is going somewhere,” she said.

Stan glowered at her. “Hush up and listen. Anyway, one day that counselor Ian looked up to fell off a bridge and his young wife didn’t hesitate to dive in after him. Weren’t no deeper than four feet of water, so the big rescue attempt wasn’t necessary, but that act of love made an impression on Ian. He’s been looking for that ever since.”

“Bridges and cold water?” Rue asked.

“Now she’s got it,” Cora said. “Stanley, you did such a wonderful job of changing that light bulb. There’s a dim glow there now,” Cora mused.

“I’m calling this wedding off,” Rue mumbled, hiding a grin. “You people are mean.”

“There’s not going to be a wedding,” Ian said. He leaned over the top of her chair and kissed her forehead.

All eyes were on him, two sets of hostile feminine glares clearly plotting where to bury his body.

“Why didn’t you say this when you first arrived back home?” Cora rarely raised her voice but the volume definitely went up.

“Mother, we’ve explained this to you.” Ian lifted Rue out of her chair, sat down, and pulled her into his lap. “Rue and I were conning you before. Since you were planning an imaginary wedding, I had no reason to stop you.”

His mother waved him away. “You and my sweet Rue were a couple before you returned home. You only
thought
you were tricking us all.”

“A-men to that,” Pop-pop said

“Like I said before,” Stan added. “It didn’t take a detective to sniff that one out.”

Rue opened her mouth, started fuming, and closed it. Several starts and stalls followed before she got it together. “Let me ask you something, Trash Man.”

Ian leaned back in their chair, ready for a battle. “Ask, Ruella.”

Oh. Heh. Funny guy. “This drawing you did for me…” Rue opened Ian’s sketchpad and took out a beautiful Japanese chibi-style illustration Ian had given her one night before they’d gone to bed. She’d recently learned he’d inherited a lot of his best traits from Pop-pop. His gift for illustration was one of them.

The drawing showed their future family at the cabin on the cliff overlooking the Staunton River, the land Ian called his “think place”. Kids with various shades of brown skin ran all over the place, boys with their father’s blue eyes and their mother’s curls, girls with long dark hair and cat ears.

When Ian first presented the illustration to her she’d quickly wiped her face to keep teardrops from splashing down and blurring the ink. One thing she hadn’t noticed was the chubby childlike version of her had a mate mark on her neck but no ring on her finger.

It took closing her eyes to give Rue the composure she needed to tell him why his refusal to have a wedding bothered her. She shook the drawing. “Does Lennox have an illustration of the family you dreamed of having with her?”

Ian rubbed his face. “Yeah, she does.”

“How about that mate mark you’re promising me? She got one of those?”

The lines of his jaw hardened and his lips thinned. “You know she does, Rue,” Ian said.

“Then what are you going to give me that she doesn’t have?” she asked, grabbing his chin the way he liked to do to her.

His eyes flashed amber bright. “You’ve got
me
,” the wolf growled at her. “We’re going to be mated. That’s a far stronger bond than marriage. And that’s enough.”