Luna Junction 1 Feasts with Wolves (W) (7 page)

I grinned ruefully. I supposed I would
have to leave that last bit out. My shiny, affluent parents might
eventually come to terms with a reckless elopement. But I sort of
doubted they would accept the interspecies element. They didn’t
even like dogs.

When I entered the cream and blue
guest bedroom I received a slight shock in the form of flagrantly
naked Matthew and Claire. They slept peacefully in Claire’s bed,
limbs wildly entangled. I tiptoed across the floor and quickly
gathered up my backpack. As I began to retreat from the room, I
noticed an eye watching me.

Matthew made no move to cover up. He
only observed me with quiet curiosity. I felt the blush creeping
across my face. It wasn’t often that a girl stood there before her
nude former semi-boyfriend after she’d spent the night in carnal
positions with his father. At least…it shouldn’t be
often.

There was no hostility in his gaze,
though I was certain he knew where I’d been. Claire emitted a happy
sleep moan and Matthew wrapped his arms around her, shutting his
eyes once more. I closed the door gently.

By the time I’d showered
and dressed, anxiety was resurfacing.
I’ll
present you at the Yule tomorrow.
What did
that mean anyway? It had been less than twenty four hours since I
learned what really populated Luna Junction. Was I now to be
paraded gaily in front of gaggles of werewolves as Cade Landon’s
mate, sort of like an underworld wedding? There was bound to be
some tension. Cade had mentioned how some of the families condemned
the idea of human mates. And though Claire was sweet, her family
sounded like another matter.

I hadn’t thought to bring a
blow dryer so I towel dried my thick auburn hair as best I could. I
did not know how much time had elapsed but I heard the faint
stirrings of activity in the house. I wondered if Cade was awake.
The mere thought of his name induced a rush of moist heat between
my legs. Whenever I had indulged in steamy bodice-rippers I always
thought I was missing some important feature of wantonness. Hell,
who didn’t want to
‘quiver with
anticipation as his mighty member prepared to plunder her secret
folds.’
? Now that I had finally experienced
those impossible heights all I wanted was to do it
again.

I swung open the bathroom door and saw
Benji standing in the hallway. “Shit, I’m sorry. Were you waiting
long?”

He shrugged, shyly averting my eyes.
“Nah.” He shuffled his big feet and waited for me to pass. I felt I
should say something to him but had no idea what he was thinking.
For all I knew he thought of me the same way I thought of Becca
Blowjob.

I heard some activity in the kitchen
so I headed in that direction. Cade was industriously gathering
implements and ingredients. “Good morning, gorgeous,” he said
without turning around.

“
How did you know it was
me?”

He turned and winked, wrinkling his
nose. “Wolf senses.” His loose t-shirt clung to his muscles in the
most appealing manner possible.

Lord how I wanted him. Even though I
realized there were others up and about at this point, I half hoped
he would bend me over the kitchen island and sink himself into me.
Taking a deep breath, I idly picked up a small bottle. “’Cade’s
Craft’” I read. The bottle was little larger than a salt shaker and
held a mix of spices advertised to season ‘All Types of
Meat’.

Cade noticed what I was holding.
“Yeah, that little product is our bread and butter around here. We
even ship to the east coast now.” He began whisking ingredients
together in a bowl. “My mother was a chef, before she mated with a
Landon alpha. She taught me all her tricks.”

“
Oh,” I said. Stupidly, I
had never even considered how the Cade Landon made a living. I
replaced the bottle on the counter and took a deep breath. “And
they learned to accept her, didn’t they?”

Cade frowned. “She was accepted, even
loved. But things were different then. The hunters moved in about
twenty years ago, bringing suspicion and violence with
them.”

“
Cade, who are the
hunters?”

His mouth was set in a grim line.
“They are humans with a peculiar ability to identify shifters. Some
say they are descended from lines which once were shifters but the
blood became so diluted that only that one ability remains,
rendering them bitter.” He paused. “I don’t know if that’s true or
not. They have evolved into a strange religion dedicated to
reigning in werewolves. Mostly they just engage in menacing
observation. But when they convince themselves we pose a threat to
humanity, they don’t hesitate to hunt us.”

I was having difficulty
absorbing this. “Hunt you? Is that legal?” I was picturing a Bugs
and Daffy cartoonish exchange.
Duck
season! Rabbit season! Werewolf season!

Cade roared with laughter. “Legal?
Tatum, sweetheart, the laws of the land you were born to are rather
moot here.”

I was quiet, my fingers drumming
lightly on the block wood counter. This was a whole universe unto
itself. It seemed like an awful lot to keep under wraps. “Are there
many humans who know about your, um, kind?”

“
Yes, quite a few. It’s to
our advantage to maintain some positive relationships. Bribery is
effective too.”

“
And how many werewolves
are there?”

Cade looked up from his cookery. “More
than you think, honey.”

My eighth grade math teacher’s name
was Mr. Basque. He was a brooding, humorless fellow who was both
unpopular and feared. You didn’t want to neglect your homework in
Mr. Basque’s class because he would roar at you like a hellfire
preacher. Freddie Fortune swore up and down that he’d been alone
with Mr. Basque in detention one day and recklessly threw a pencil
at the man’s head. Mr. Basque howled, his eyes glowing red. His
face morphed into a hairy animal mask long enough for Freddie
Fortune to piss his pants. Since Freddie Fortune was something of a
bullshit artist, no one believed him. I wanted to find Freddie and
tell him that I believed him. Now.

I peered out the small window over the
sink. Benji and Zane were goofing off in the snowy yard. “It’s
Christmas Eve,” I said. I used to love Christmas Eve. Somehow the
anticipation of the holiday was even better than the day
itself.

Cade’s arms curled around my middle
before I even knew he was behind me. He pushed my hair aside and
tenderly kissed the back of my neck. My heart pounded. I wanted him
to touch me. With an abrupt turn I pressed my body against his and
hungrily sought his mouth. He responded with equal fervency. Our
tongues lashed together and he lifted me onto the counter, my legs
on either side of his hard body.

I pushed him back playfully. “You know
what I want for Christmas?”

“
What, honey?”

My fingers trailed down the muscular
bulges of his chest and moved further down, toward the most swollen
muscle of all. “You.”

His breathing was rapid, his voice
hoarse. “You already have me.”

I looked into his dark eyes. “Do I?” I
needed to hear it again, that he’d meant what he’d last night in
the crazed heat of passion.

Cade cupped my chin. “Tatum, I told
you that you would be mine and now you are. I’ll never give you any
cause to doubt me.” I opened my mouth to answer but he kissed me
hard, cementing his possession with his tongue.

He lifted me from the counter and
returned me to my feet. I issued a small cry of complaint but a
second later I knew the reason he had retreated back to the stove.
Claire’s bright head popped into the kitchen. When I met her the
day before I’d thought her a pretty girl but overnight she’d grown
positively radiant.

She smirked at me. “Morning. Did you
sleep well?”

“
Probably as well as you
did.”

She laughed. “Then we’ll both be too
exhausted to play hostess tonight.”

Matthew quietly came up behind Claire
and placed a hand on her shoulder. Cade soberly addressed his son.
“So it’s settled then?”

Matthew nodded and took a breath.
“Yes.” Claire gripped his hand and they grinned at one
another.

Cade smiled from ear to ear. “Good.”
He grabbed them both up in a bear hug and kissed Claire on the
cheek.

Matthew noticed me standing there
awkwardly. He stared at me but spoke to his father. “And
you?”

Cade glanced at me. “Tatum is a Landon
now.”

Claire clapped her hands together with
happiness and lurched toward me. Though she was a little thing, she
picked me up and twirled me around. “Claire!”

She put me down brusquely, giggling.
“Sorry. I’m just so freaking happy!”

I shook my head. “Damn you’re
strong.”

Her eyes were sparkling. “Of course.
I’m a werewolf.”

Matthew and Cade had begun whispering
quietly. I understood they were talking about me. Claire must have
noticed my troubled look. She grabbed my hand and pulled me along.
I had little choice but to cooperate. “Call us when breakfast is
ready,” she shouted over her shoulder. I scarcely had time to grab
the coat I’d worn yesterday before being hauled outside.

Growing up in balmy California, my
experience with snow was limited to a disastrous weekend ski trip
with my parents three years ago. It was a cleverly designed
distraction from the news that they were getting divorced. I
reached down and picked up a handful of the white powder. It was so
cold my bare hands stung.

Claire had no qualms about getting
close to the stuff. She sprawled on her back and began flailing her
arms and legs around.

“
What are you
doing?”

Her cheeks were bright red. “Making a
snow angel!”

The snowball hit me in the chest. I
stared at it stupidly for a second and then looked up to see Zane’s
laughing face. “Gotcha!” he said and darted away.

Claire scrambled to her feet. “You’re
gonna pay for that, junior!” She was scooping up armfuls of snow as
she capered after Zane.

“
Are you okay?” The voice
was soft as I brushed the snow from my coat. Benji lingered several
feet away, looking at me worriedly.

“
I’m fine. It’s only
snow.”

He ventured a few steps forward. “No,
I mean are you okay?” His voice was tense and I realized he wasn’t
really asking me about the snow.

“
I’m fine, Benji.” I
crossed my arms in front of my chest and gave him a watery smile.
“I’m not as frail as I seem.”

“
Good.” He scampered away
after Claire and Zane.

I stared at the distantly frolicking
forms for a long moment. Directly overhead a loud caw got my
attention and I looked up to see a large bird of prey circling in a
lazy arc. It made me uneasy. I wondered how it had been for Cade’s
mother, joining the Landon pack. If she’d been a chef she’d
obviously enjoyed some personal success before Luna Junction
altered the course of her life. Had she simply fallen in love and
abandoned everything to embrace it? Just as I was doing?

A sharp ringing tore me out of my
reverie. Cade’s deep voice boomed from the steps as he rang a large
brass bell. “Breakfast!” He waited for me, grinning as I hurried
into his arms, craving just a brief reassuring moment of his
warmth.

Chapter 8

The rest of the day sped by in a
whirlwind of preparation. Cade and the boys had salted the pork and
beef the day before and only needed to finish preparing the pits
for slow smoking. I watched them hauling out the huge shanks of
meat and asked where they’d come from.

Cade had a giant pink pig flung over
each shoulder. “Bellini keeps about a hundred head of cattle and a
pen full of these plump guys.”

“
But I thought you guys
liked your meat um, rare,” I said, remembering the pile of bloody
steaks on the kitchen table.

Cade shrugged under his burden.
“Tastes run the gamut. Me? I prefer twelve hours of hearty smoking.
Bellini too. The Ivanovs would rip the raw throat from a living
animal if it wasn’t widely considered bad manners. My boys and most
everyone else is somewhere in the middle so we’ll stagger the
cooking to make everyone happy.”

I nodded. “Got it.” Really though, I
didn’t. Apparently the learning curve for all things werewolf was
pretty steep. I knew I had only begun being schooled.

“
Hey, Cade?”

He turned around when I called, his
eyebrows raised.

“
How many of the Luna
Junction wolves are coming here tonight?”

He seemed surprised that I would ask.
“All of them, Tatum.”

I watched the Landons fussing with
their meat and their smoky pits for a few minutes. My hands were
clammy. I needed something to do. For all his skills, I hoped Cade
also kept some baking ingredients in the kitchen because there was
one thing I knew how to make. I didn’t know if werewolves ate
Christmas cookies but baking my mother’s old butter cookie recipe
would keep me busy for a while and keep my mind off the fact that
very soon I was going to be surrounded by a few hundred werewolves,
some of them likely hostile.