Out of the Shadows (2 page)

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t mean he
has the best interest of the pack at heart.”

“I said, don’t,” Devon ground his
teeth and glared at his younger brother, “I don’t want to discuss this with you
anymore.” Vincent shrank back into his seat and hung his head.

Devon’s hand went to his chest
where the scars were hidden by his shirt. There was so much stuff his own
brother didn’t know. Things Devon didn’t even want to think about. Determined
not to go there he changed the subject.

“How are you going to break the
news to Becky you aren’t in Guymon anymore?”

Vincent groaned, his head fell back
against the headrest. “Becky and I broke up on Monday, Dev. It’s Jessica now.”

Devon chuckled, the tension in his
shoulders easing as they passed into the next county.

***

They didn’t reach the ranch until
mid-afternoon. With the air conditioner not working, the heat in the car was
suffocating. All four windows were down swirling hot air, doing little to
alleviate the heat. After a long day in the sweltering car, they were all eager
to get out. Devon didn’t complain, at least they’d gotten here.

As they exited the car, his Uncle
Rick and his two cousins, Gene and Preston greeted them. Now came the hard
part, getting them to help. An act against another alpha might be considered a
sign of aggression, depending on the alpha.

Devon’s heart thundered violently
against his ribcage. Refusing to let his fear show, he squared his shoulders. He
met his Uncle’s outstretched hand with determination. Devon could not appear
weak. They needed Rick’s help.

“Devon?” Rick asked as he walked
toward them, a smile spread across his face. Rick reached toward Devon and
pulled him into a hug, clapping him on the back. He’d spent every summer on the
ranch until he turned eighteen, and even then had visited occasionally. This
was home. “It’s good to see you again, son.”

“Can we go inside and talk?” Devon
skipped straight to the point. If his uncle couldn’t help them, they needed to
distance themselves so Rick’s pack wouldn’t be implicated by their actions.
Should any harm come against Rick or his pack, because of them, he would never
forgive himself.

“Sure, son, come on in,” Rick said.
He motioned for all of them to follow him inside the large mansion.

Devon waited until they were seated
with drinks. Sweat beaded on his brow and his mouth went dry; the apprehension
churned in his stomach. Devon cleared his throat:

“I respect you, Uncle Rick, you
have been like a father to me, and I would never ask anything of you if it
wasn’t important,” he paused. Devon hated to ask for help, or involve others in
a fight that wasn’t their own. Concern of being turned away flared inside him
and he rubbed his hands on his pant legs.

Rick gave him a slight nod and he
continued.

“Over the past few years Emmett has
made some questionable choices. He has asked us to make aggressive moves
against our neighboring packs that we have long since been allies with. He has
severed ties with all of our old friends. Most recently though, he formed an
alliance with some of the Gulf packs and though Emily and Marcus have made
intentions to marry” - Devon stopped and looked at Emily - “He promised Emily
to one of the other packs to mate with the alpha’s sons. The rules and way
Emmett has begun to treat members of his own pack, and our allies, are
unacceptable. We can no longer live under his tyranny.”

Devon leaned back into the couch
relieved to have gotten that off his chest. His uncle’s expression remained
unreadable. Devon sipped nervously at his soda waiting for Rick to say
something.

He swallowed the nervous lump building in his throat. One
hand fisted in his lap, the other gripped the soda can tightly.

If it were only him, he wouldn’t
care, but his siblings needed the extra protection.

For a wolf, living in isolation
would be one of the cruelest punishments to their kind. They craved
companionship. Wolves were pack animals and that also extended to werewolves. They
also had an inherent need to protect their families and loved ones.

“I knew things had deteriorated,
but I didn’t realize they’d gotten so bad,” Rick said after a long pause,
rubbing his graying beard. His brown eyes met Devon’s. “Over the past few years
there has been unrest amongst some of the packs. Allegiances are being formed. Some
packs are resorting to the old ways in response. It would appear Emmett is
going that route as well. I do not wish a war. We live in harmony with our
human neighbors and I fear many lives could be lost.”

Rick sighed, taking a long sip of
his coffee. “However, you’re my brother’s only son and I value family and the
values of our modern society. I could never sit around knowingly letting others
suffer. It would only be a matter of time before we joined the fray anyway. You
four are welcome here, but I do have a few small conditions. We can discuss
those once you have settled. It will be nice to have someone with medical
experience again. We have been without a physician since Edward Davies passed.”

“I’m only a paramedic, but I will do what I can,” Devon
said, relief washing over him. Being part of a pack and the added safety helped
settle the unease that had filled him. “We will gladly pledge our allegiances
to you, and follow any rules you set.”

***

Lark finished lining the takeout
box with cookies, donuts, and muffins. The morning rush had been extra brutal
today. Thank goodness she always baked a little extra. It had been a long and
grueling afternoon. The day wouldn’t be over until she’d picked up her sister
and delivered the little bit of leftovers to the Harris Ranch. Thankfully it
would be one stop. Her sister was dating the youngest Harris boy and spent most
evenings at their home.

After Lark and Sarah’s parents died
in a tragic accident on New Year’s Eve three years ago, it had been up to Lark
to take on the parental role of her younger sister, Sarah. It had always been a
dream of hers to own a bakery, and with the assistance of Rick Harris and her
inheritance, it had become a reality. The Cookie Jar was her bakery, which sold
cakes, cookies, pies, and muffins.

Her parents always encouraged them
to follow their dreams, it seemed fitting to follow through with her goals
after their death.

Lark used the glass case as a
makeshift mirror, tucking her unruly blonde locks back into a ponytail.
Satisfied, she grabbed the three boxes of leftovers and walked to her car.

The ten-minute drive to the Harris
ranch was short and peaceful. Listening to Lana Del Rey and enjoying the quiet
night air, made it the most relaxing ten minutes of the entire day.

Owning her business had its rewards
and downfalls. She’d gone over this quarter’s profits last night with Rick, and
felt comfortable enough to hire a few extra workers. Hopefully her days would
be calmer soon.

She turned down the large gravel
driveway with a sigh, perhaps one day she would be able to own an estate like
this. It truly was spectacular. Acres of trees lined the property and a large pond
sat behind the main house. Three other houses, set more like apartments, sat a
quarter of a mile away where the majority of the residents lived. The main
house was reserved for family and guests.

Lark parked in front of the manor
and got out. She grabbed the three boxes of leftovers and headed to the door. She
stopped in her tracks as the door opened and an unfamiliar guy stepped out.

“Hi,” Lark said, biting her lower lip, taking in the man
before her. He was beyond handsome, with thick sandy blonde hair and the
perfect amount of scruff adorned his set jaw. The way his shirt clung to his
chest had her imagination roaming.

“Hey,” he said, after a long
moment. His green-blue eyes lingered on her face, causing her to squirm
uneasily. Most guys gave her the once over. Once they noticed her other assets
their eyes never made it back to her face. But his eyes had yet to stray.

“Um, I’m looking for Rick, and my
sister Sarah. You must be new here.” She snapped out of her daze and offered
her hand to him. “I’m Lark Davies.” As she held out her hand she wondered if
they’d met before. He seemed familiar. Surely she would have remembered meeting
him though.

He looked at her hand for a moment
before extending his hand to her. “Devon Harris,” he replied, his eyes flicking
up to meet hers.

Lark stifled a gasp as his warm
hand took hers and a volt of heat swept through her. Her heart beat rapidly,
drumming in her ears.

“It’s nice to meet you. I own the
bakery in town. Rick and my father were close friends. He’s done a lot for
Sarah and I since my parents passed. I know how much you guys eat, which is why
I bring all the leftovers here for you guys,” she rushed, even though he hadn’t
asked. He had caught her off guard this place had become a second home to her
the past few years. She usually kept her nervous rambling tendencies under
wraps, but now she was blubbering like a fool.

There was a dangerous aura about
him, yet instead of being threatening, it added intrigue. Something about him
turned her on in a way she hadn’t ever been before.

Knowing what the Harris family was,
it would be safe to assume Devon was a werewolf too. It would explain the way
he carried himself. Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling that they’d met before,
something about his eyes.

“Rick’s inside,” Devon said taking
a step forward, the porch light illuminating him better. His eyes, more a mossy
green with blue flecks, met hers. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his
jeans, shifting on his feet. The heat of his gaze seared her to the core.

“Right, well, it was nice to meet
you.” She chewed on her lower lip, and forced even breaths in, though her heart
beat a mile a minute. Why did he have such an effect on her? Why did she have
the feeling they’d met before?

“Have a good night,” Devon replied,
stepping off the porch and walking toward the horse barn.

Blinking, she forced her feet to
move forward towards the house, while chastising herself for acting like a
silly schoolgirl.

The last thing she needed was a
relationship. With a business and a little sister to care for, there was
already enough on her plate. Willing herself not to look back, Lark strode to
the front door and let herself in.

Emmett slammed his fist down on the
desk, grinding his teeth in frustration. “What do you mean you can’t find them?”
He’d sent every able man out upon hearing of Emily’s disappearance, assuming
they hadn’t gone far. Now a little over twenty-four hours later, his children
still evaded him.

This was unacceptable. He awoke this morning to find out his
daughter, the key to a deal with the Gulf packs, had fled in the middle of the
night. Knowing his other son and the bastard he’d raised had helped her enraged
him. Red flared behind his eyes.

He’d known Devon and Vincent had
not been pleased with his decision regarding Emily, but they always fell in
line one way or another. Emmett thought he’d made sure Devon would never go
against him again. To think he’d given the ungrateful
boy
another chance.
He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

His eldest son Daniel stood next to him, a wide gait and
predatory stare on Michael, the leader of the night watch.

Michael stood in front of them. His
eyes downcast, fear radiated off him causing a disgusting sweat and hazy stench
to filter through the room. The rest of his crew stood behind him. The tension
in the room palpable, Emmett could feel his blood pressure skyrocketing. The
vein in his temple began to throb from the rage brewing inside him.

“I’m sorry sir. They’re gone,” Michael stammered.

Emmett had half a mind to strike
him down instantly to make an example. If the six wolves hadn’t been needed for
the immediate search, they would have already been dead. He would not lose this
deal because of their insolence.

“How did none of you notice them leaving?” Emmett glared,
towering over the men. His eyes flickered to each of them in turn. “What were
you doing?” He demanded. A snarl ripped from his throat as he stopped in front
of Michael.

Michael flinched. “No one left their posts, sir.” As the one
in charge last night he had so chivalrously offered to take full
responsibility.

“Then how did they escape,” Emmett growled, through gritted
teeth, spittle flew from his mouth.

“I don’t know, sir.” Michael shifted his feet, eyes still
submissively trained on the floor. Emmett stared a moment longer enjoying the
power he held over the other wolf.

Emmett finally relented and took a step back, before he did
something regretful. This was a complication that could not be discovered by
the Gulf packs with their alliance so fresh.

“You’re going to find them and bring them back here. If I
were you, I would not disappoint me again,” Emmett ordered. He approached the
men, standing tall making sure to loom over them with his entire height. “They
couldn’t have gotten far.”

Michael gave him a curt nod and backed out into the hallway
his eyes never leaving the floor. “We will find them, sir.”

“Go.” Emmett slammed the door shut with a growl. The
bookcase against the wall rattled and a row of books slumped over with a thud. He
let out a long, slow frustrated breath trying to work out the tick in his jaw.

“Where do you think they went?” Daniel asked. “We’ve
searched all of Guymon.”

With a sigh, Emmett sat down at the desk. How far would
Devon go? Devon’s father, Joseph, had been a friend to all. By carrying his
name, certain packs would willingly take Devon in. However, some of the packs
had come to fear Emmett, giving him a slight advantage in the hunt. The
question was did Devon know who his own allies were?

Devon had proven resourceful on numerous occasions. In that
respect, it had been a grave mistake to allow him to live as long as he had. Emmett’s
weakness came down to Claire, his loving wife, and Devon’s mother. A slip up he
would not make again. He’d already shown weakness once in front of some of his
men for Claire, he would not do it again.

***

The sharp blare of the alarm clock jostled Devon awake. With
a groan, he blinked his eyes open and scrubbed a hand over his face as he took
in the surroundings of the cream-colored room. The green comforter bunched
around his waist, eyes slowly adjusting to the sun filtering in through the
beige curtains.

It had taken him hours to fall
asleep and it had been anything but restful. Thoughts of Lark lingered with him
all night. Sleep had been impossible. It irritated him that he couldn’t get her
out of his head.

Devon didn’t think she had recognized him, of course, he
couldn’t hold it against her. It had been years. He hadn’t exactly looked his
best then either.

Not that it mattered, relationships
weren’t his thing. Devon didn’t consider himself a womanizer. He had fun, but
never stayed with anyone longer than a few weeks. If he’d learned one thing in
life, it was that people always betrayed you. He never allowed anyone to get close
to him.

“You staying in bed all day?” Vincent barreled into the
room, smashing his hand down on the snooze button. “I think the whole house is
awake now.”

“Sorry, long night.” Devon grimaced while sitting up.

Vincent quirked an eyebrow, and looked around the room. “Long
night? I don’t see a girl here.”

Devon rolled his eyes smiling. He climbed out of bed and
pulled on a black shirt.

“Or did she already sneak out? Was it that hot little blonde
that brought the muffins? Cute and can cook, can’t go wrong there,” Vincent
teased, still searching the room.

“There is no girl, and that’s more your style than mine,”
Devon replied sobering. He didn’t like the way his little brother referred to
Lark. It shouldn’t matter what Vincent said, but it did. For some unknown
reason, he found himself intrigued by her. More so than any other woman before.
Having his baby brother, who would sleep with just about any woman, drool all
over Lark, didn’t sit well.

“Sure, but it’d probably make you in a better mood if you got
laid more frequently,” Vincent taunted. He leaned against the doorframe, arms
crossed over his chest.

“Well, I’m glad to see you’re back to your old self.” The
less they talked about Lark the better.

Vincent always was a jokester, and
never took anything seriously. Emmett didn’t approve of his youngest son’s
antics and constantly belittled him. That was how the two started bonding. They
hadn’t always been close. However, the more Vincent had come into his self and
defied Emmett, the closer the two had grown. They found they had more in common
than they’d realized.

Vincent would probably never know
how much it meant to him to have his brother reciprocate his feelings.

“Are you kidding? I’m jealous you
have the cool uncle. To think all this time you could have been living here,
and you weren’t,” Vincent said. He knocked the back of his head against the doorjamb
smiling. “You’ve been holding out on us, we should have left a long time ago.”

Devon shook his head and pulled on
a pair of pants. He motioned for his brother to follow him as they left the
room.

“We’re putting their pack at
risk, Vincent. You shouldn’t take that lightly.”

“I don’t. Loosen up a little, Dev. Everything
is fine. We are fine. You need to get out and have some fun.”

“Maybe you should take things a
little more seriously. We’re not in the clear yet,” Devon reminded him. He
still couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling curdling in his stomach. Emmett
wouldn’t just let them go.

“I’m a little worried about the
stipulations Rick’s going to give us. I think he’s going to make us work,”
Vincent shuddered.

“The work here isn’t that bad. You
might actually like the horses,” Devon chuckled, imagining Vincent trying to do
any type of work.

“Wait, there are actually horses
here? I thought it was just a guise like at home. The horses aren’t bothered
being around us?” Vincent stopped mid step, his face horrified.

“Yes, there are actual horses here.
They train and breed them. Most of the horses are born on the ranch and don’t
know any different, they’ve grown accustomed to our unique scent. The business
is quite lucrative.” Devon patted his brother on the shoulder. Unlike Emmett,
Rick did own a horse ranch. Their old home was technically a farm, only no
farming actually occurred. It was all a ruse.

“Crap, I am going to have to work.”
His face fell, shoulders went lax. Despite his differences with Emmett, Vincent
never had to work for anything.

Devon thought about saying
something witty, but chose not to rub salt in the wound and asked, “Where are
Emily and Marcus?”

“They’re already having breakfast
downstairs. They spent the night together, in case you were wondering.” Vincent
wagged his eyebrows suggestively.

Devon sighed and shook his head. What
Emily and Marcus did was their business. They were both old enough to make
their own decisions.

“And I’m sure you will be creating
your own scandals soon enough.” Devon took the steps two at a time toward the
kitchen. Perhaps a little loosening up might not be such a bad idea.

The scent of bacon lingered in the
air, leading them straight to the kitchen. Bacon sizzled in a pan as Emily
flipped some pancakes on the griddle. Devon’s stomach growled as he went to
grab some plates.

Vincent took the plate Devon handed
to him. “We should go into town. Abilene’s a big city with lots of beautiful
women. Sure beats middle-of-nowhere Guymon.”

Devon rolled his eyes smiling.
“Could we at least settle in a day or two before you go on the prowl?”

“Fine, but we do need to get a few
things. In case you forgot, we didn’t bring much with us,” Vincent pointed out.
He walked ahead of Devon toward the heaping buffet on the counter.

Emily turned her head, looking up
from the pancakes she was setting on the counter. “Are we going out today?”

Devon nodded. There were a few things
he needed to pick up.

***

Lark sealed the order of cupcakes
shut and placed it on the counter. It had been a grueling week, and she was
glad it was Saturday. Thankfully she had two interviews scheduled for next week.
There were two part-time positions that needed filled, hopefully everything
panned out.

The bakery was closed on Sundays
and it was her only day off. Six days a week didn’t bother her, working twelve
or more hours a day for six days took a lot out of a person.

Sundays had always been a fun day
for her family. A tradition Sarah and her continued to this day. Their parents
were gone but the two of them remained closely knit despite the six-year age
gap. They would spend the entire day together before going to the Harris estate
for dinner.

Rick Harris had been her father’s
closest friend. Even after his death, the kindhearted man had gone out of his
way to look out for the two of them. He even guided her with the business. She
suspected Rick was lonely. His own wife had passed away years ago and his two
sons Preston and Gene were all grown up even though they still lived at home.

The chime of the bell on the front
door clanged alerting her that someone had come in. She walked out to the large
white front counter, dusting the flour off her red apron to no avail.

“Good afternoon,” she smiled
looking at the four patrons. Her gaze drifted to Devon, who lagged behind the
other three, his eyes lingered on the murals of cakes, pies, cookies and
muffins that adorned the yellow walls.

“Hi.” The brown haired guy smiled
his green eyes shining, as he approached the counter. “I’m Vincent. This is
Emily, Marcus, and I think you met Devon.” He pointed to each person with the
introduction. His hand extended to her. “I hear you’re the lady who dropped by the
house last night with those amazing muffins and cookies.”

“Yeah,” Lark smiled, shaking his
hand. “I’m Lark.” It was no secret her baked goods were a hit at the ranch. Her
knowledge of werewolves wasn’t much, but from what she could tell they ate a
lot. She didn’t ask many questions, technically humans weren’t supposed to know
werewolves existed.

“We thought we’d stop in for an
afternoon snack,” Vincent said, focusing on the case of baked goods. “Now I
just have to decide what to get,” he winked.

Lark smiled at him. Ironically, the
man who caught her eye out of the group, lurked back by the door, arms crossed
over his chest. The lack of a social life over the last few years made it hard
for Lark to tell if Vincent was just overly personable or if this was his way
of flirting. At the ripe old age of twenty-four, she’d lost touch with her
peers. She hoped he was just being friendly.

Vincent was tall with dark brown
hair and emerald colored eyes. Tall, dark and handsome, he fit the exact
description of every boyfriend she’d ever had. Yet, he didn’t give her the warm
tingles that a certain brooding sandy haired man in the back of the shop did. Devon
looked more mature and simply appealed to her more. Vincent seemed younger than
her, not as young as Sarah, but he seemed carefree.

“So, are you all staying with
Rick?” she asked curiously. It had been almost a year since she’d seen a new
face at the Harris ranch.

Lark flicked her gaze to Devon,
leaning against the glass window next to the door. He looked even more devilish
in the daylight than the night before. The black shirt he wore detailed the
fine plains of his chest; dark jeans sat low on his hips.