Omega Moon Rising (Toke Lobo & The Pack) (22 page)

“Good. Too much jewelry on a girl makes her look cheap.” And with that, Luke led them away from the directory.

They strolled at an easy pace, peering into shop windows whenever something caught their eye. Abby kept turning to make sure Libby was following.

Luke stopped in front of a maternity boutique. “Here’s what I was looking for.”

Abby knew she was going to need some winter clothes, but she’d figured Wal-Mart would do. It wasn’t as if she was getting out of bed and going to work every morning. She lived in the mountains. With werewolves. She stumbled when she remembered that last bit. “I don’t need anything this fancy,” she said in a low voice.

“You don’t need any clothes at all, far as I’m concerned,” Luke replied. “But I want to see you in something pretty. Like the first time I saw you.”

“This store is for pregnant ladies,” Libby said.

“Congratulations.” Luke grinned at Libby. “You’re going to be an aunt. Rosie Dawn is going to love you.”

“Who’s Rosie Dawn?” Libby sounded suspicious.

“Abs and my baby girl.” He patted Abby’s stomach.

Libby glared at Abby. “I hate your baby. I hope the wolves get it and eat it.”

“That’s a terrible thing to say.”

“All anyone talks about is your baby. Like it’s a big deal. Like it’s important.” The venom in Libby’s tone shocked Abby.

“That’s enough.” Luke’s voice was a blade slicing through the animosity.

Libby’s glare shifted from Abby to him. “You want me to live with you instead of with Marcus and Colette so you can have a built in babysitter. I’ll be your slave.”

“I want you to live with me because I love and I miss you,” Abby protested.

“I’m changing my mind about that,” Luke snapped. “I knew I should have bought the clothes online and had them shipped. Libby, I don’t want to hear another word out of you until you’re ready to apologize to Abby and me. Now stay with us and behave yourself.”

He grabbed Abby’s arm and pulled her into the store. “Tell me her issues aren’t genetic,” he muttered.

“Like you’ve got a right to complain,” Abby snapped.

Unlike most mall stores, the elegant little boutique into which Luke dragged her had thick, luxurious carpeting on the floor. The din from the mall was almost nonexistent in the hushed atmosphere. The only sound was from Libby clanking the hangers together as she flipped through a rack of nursing bras.

Luke led Abby directly to a display of sweaters. “This,” he said. “I saw this online and it reminded me of you. But I don’t know what size you wear. I mean, I could have looked in your clothes, but I wanted to do this in person. Make sure the colors were right. That kind of stuff.”

The sweater he indicated was stunning. A heavy knit, but not in the usual black or tastefully muted colors most sweaters of its kind came in. This one was pink. Rose pink. Bright yellow swirls broke the expanse of pink like miniature stars bursting in an otherworldly sky. The display paired the sweater with thick pink leggings.

“Do you like it?” Luke whispered.

Abby flipped over the price tag. The blood rushed from her head.

“I have a vision of you playing your guitar to the baby bump while wearing this sweater,” he said.

“Luke—”

“Don’t argue. What size?”

Abby prayed the sweater didn’t come in a size four, but God hadn’t been listening to her much lately.

Luke insisted she try on the outfit. Abby glanced over her shoulder to locate Libby, who had moved from the bras to a display of teething necklaces.

Abby took the sweater and leggings into the dressing room. Luke was right. She did look good in the outfit. And it was deliciously thick, so it would be warm for the brutal months ahead.

The price tag—she could have bought groceries for a month for the cost of the sweater alone. Her frugal conscience couldn’t justify that kind of expenditure, even if Luke apparently had money to burn. And she didn’t want to be beholden to Luke. In any way.

She rubbed the tingling spot on her neck as she hurried from the dressing room. The sweater and leggings were going back on their racks. Luke was at the checkout desk, flirting with the clerk.

Libby was nowhere in sight.

“Bag ‘em up,” Luke said. “I just finished paying for them.”

“Where’s Libby?”

Luke turned. Scowled as he surveyed the store. “She was just here. I bought her an amber necklace.”

Abby’s stomach clenched. “She wanders, Luke. You need to keep an eye on her.”

“The girl you bought the necklace for?” the clerk asked. “She went into the mall.” Abby dropped the clothes on the desk and started to sprint toward the door, but Luke caught her arm.

“We’ll be back to pick them up in a few minutes,” he said in a terse voice to the clerk.

“Do you want me to call mall security?” the clerk asked.

“Not yet,” Luke called over his shoulder as he escorted Abby from the shop.

“Why not call mall security?” Abby knew her voice was shrill, but she couldn’t help it.

“Calm down,” Luke said. “Give me a second. There are advantages to my mixed heritage, you know.”

His nostrils flared. If she hadn’t been watching him so closely, she might not have seen it. He was scenting Libby to track her. In other circumstances, Abby might have run screaming, but if Luke could use his allegedly superior sense of smell to find her sister, Abby could get over her phobia.

He took off, leaving Abby to bob and sway her way through the pedestrian traffic.

He found Libby in the food court, where she sat with a large, familiar-looking woman in a blue and purple flowered dress, who also wore too much perfume. Abby’s nostrils burned. The fragrance smothered any food smells that might have enticed anyone to eat. How Luke had managed to sniff out Libby under the stinky mask was a credit to his werewolf genes.

“Elizabeth Ann,” Abby scolded. “You took ten years off my life. You were supposed to wait in the store and not go running off with strangers. What were you thinking?”

“Oh dear,” the woman said.

That’s when Abby recognized her. “Mrs. MacDougal. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize Libby had come with you.” Abby turned to Luke. “Luke, this is Mrs. MacDougal, Libby’s former Sunday School teacher. I think you met her at Mama’s funeral.”

Mrs. MacDougal offered her hand to Luke, who shook it with obvious reluctance.

“I’m sorry,” Mrs. MacDougal said. “Libby didn’t tell me she was here with you.” Mrs. MacDougal’s makeup was nearly as thick and heavy as her perfume. It caked in the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. It flaked when she spoke.

“Who else would she be with?” Luke asked.

“Luke and I were shopping, and Libby was supposed to wait for us to finish our transaction,” Abby explained.

“I’m so sorry.” Mrs. MacDougal apologized again. “I saw her sitting on a bench, looking all sad and alone and invited her to have a soft drink with me. I didn’t mean any harm. I thought she might have run away from home.”

“Of course you didn’t mean any harm. We’ve all been a little on edge since Gary’s death.” Abby wanted to keep things right with the people of Oak Moon. She didn’t know when she might need their kindness again. Especially since she still wasn’t sure whether or not she was going to stay in Loup Garou. Wasn’t even sure of her marital status with Luke. Sure, today he was acting like a loving husband, but back in his hometown?

Abby kept her smile pasted on her face. Her cheek muscles ached with the effort. But Charmaine MacDougal was an important person in Oak Moon. She practically ran the church, which was second to the brewery in the role it played with the populace.

“The whole town has been on edge,” Mrs. MacDougal said. “I can’t recall another murder in all the years I’ve been living there. Scares an old woman living alone.”

Luke made some kind of low noise, but Abby ignored him. “Did you drive to Fort Collins on your own?”

“Oh, no. Dottie Lou Stetson and Crystal Blaser are with me. I can’t keep up the way I used to. They’re doing some early Christmas shopping. Only two more months.” Mrs. MacDougal sounded chipper about the prospect. “What about you, Libby? We miss you in Sunday School. Don’t you want to be part of the Christmas pageant? You always liked being in the choir.”

Apparently Mrs. MacDougal had forgotten Libby was kicked out of choir for biting the pianist.

“I miss Oak Moon. I don’t want to live in Loup Garou, but Abby is making me. I’ve never even seen a church there. And there are wolves howling all night long. And Luke’s mom is going to have to drive me down to school every day. What’s going to happen when it starts snowing? I hate Loup Garou.” Libby glared at Abby.

“No church?” Mrs. MacDougal asked. “I’m sure that can’t be right. This is America. We’re a Christian nation.”

“We haven’t had a chance to go to church. So much has happened, what with Mama, then Gary—” Abby said. She braced herself for a lecture on why her excuses were all the more reason to attend services.

But Mrs. MacDougal missed her opening. “There are Dottie Lou and Crystal.” Mrs. MacDougal waved her arms at someone in the distance. “You’re always welcome to come back to church in Oak Moon. In fact, I hope to see you there soon. Goodbye, Libby. Thanks for keeping me company.”

Mrs. MacDougal lumbered off. Abby looked around for other familiar faces, but all she saw were strangers. There weren’t that many shoppers on a weekday afternoon in October.

“That’s odd,” she said.

“What?” Luke’s voice was tight.

“I know Dottie Lou Stetson and Crystal Blaser, but I don’t see them anywhere.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Luke muttered. “I’ve got things to say and trust me, they’re better off said in the truck.”

Oh, boy. Libby was in for it. As well she should be.

“Libby. Come on.”

“I’m finishing my lemonade.”

“Your lemonade is finished,” Luke said. There was a terrible tone in his voice.

Libby’s eyes widened, then narrowed to frightening slits.

Abby was about to tell Luke he had no business talking to Libby like that when she realized he did. He considered Libby part of his family, in his own warped way, and he was dead serious about protecting his family. Dead being a very important aspect of his attitude.

“Up.” He gripped Libby’s arm.

“I’ll scream,” Libby said. “I’ll tell everyone you’re trying to kidnap me.”

Luke bared his teeth. “You do that. Do you know how fast you’ll be in child protective services? Is that what you want? Your sister has been trying to do right by you, and you’re acting like a spoiled brat. If Child Protective Services comes for you, I’ll let them take you. Your choice, Libby.”

Abby couldn’t believe what she was hearing, and started to protest, but Libby lurched to her feet, assisted by Luke’s hand.

Luke released her. “Let’s go.” His voice shook, and Abby realized exactly how furious he was. Oh, this wasn’t good.

Luke rushed Abby and Libby through the mall, stopping only at the maternity boutique to retrieve their purchases. He assisted Libby into the backseat of his truck, then tossed the plastic bags containing Abby’s new clothes behind her. He was more careful boosting Abby into the truck. His hands were shaking and the urge to shift lingered below his skin. He wanted to howl in Libby’s face. Abby could insist on issues all she wanted; the whelp needed discipline. There were so many things she’d done wrong that day. Okay. She was a victim—no, a survivor—of some pretty nasty crap, but that did not give her a license to behave like a brat. Reality check time for Miss Elizabeth “Libby” Grant, and he was the werewolf to do it.

He focused on driving. On getting them as far away from the mall and witnesses as possible. Tension hummed in the cab of the truck. Abby was upset and that was the last thing he wanted. She should be calm and happy—that was the best way to grow a baby.

He’d wanted a nice dinner out—a date with Abby—before he started working on the FBI task force, but Libby ruined his plans.

Now, he needed to lose his temper.

He found himself driving toward the park where he’d met up with Jasper. The place closed at sundown, which was pretty soon, so he’d have to make this as quick as instilling the fear of the Ancient Ones in a snotty human teenager could be. He drove to the pool house, parking in the same secluded maintenance area he’d used for his earlier meeting. He made sure the doors were locked and left the engine running.

He twisted in his seat to glare at Libby. “Care to explain what that was all about?”

The ugly expression on her face didn’t reveal a scat-eating thing.

“You scared Abby half to death when you disappeared.”

“I only went with Mrs. MacDougal for lemonade.” Sullen. Smug.

“Someone tried to kidnap you last night.” Maybe she hadn’t known that’s what all of the hullaballoo was about. Well, reality check meant exactly that. Abby was good at not telling her sister a lot of things.

Libby laughed, but not with humor. Luke caught a thread of contempt. He wondered how many of Libby’s supposed problems were real.

“And there will be consequences for what you did,” Luke said. “You could have asked permission to take off with Mrs. MacDougal.”

“Well, I didn’t. Just like I didn’t need Abby’s permission to go with Uncle Dougie last night.”

“What?” Abby and Luke spoke at the same time.

“Uncle Dougie texted me right after Gary’s funeral and asked me where I was staying. So I told him. Then he said he was coming to get me.”

“Why didn’t you tell someone last night?” Luke shouted. His wolf struggled to burst free. He was going to throttle the brat. He’d never been so angry at anyone in his life, and considering his position in the pack, he’d had lots of provocation.

“Uncle Dougie told me it was our secret.”