White Wolf 2: The Call of a Soul (33 page)

“I’m worried about your penis.” She flashed him the sweetest smile. Her two little dimples peeked in and out the way they did when her tongue worked his slit.

“Why? It’s hard all the time.”

“I called Mama. The locking shouldn’t still be lasting an hour. Not after three days.”

“You talked to your mother about my cock?” Jesus, he needed to fuck so bad he almost didn’t care.

“She thinks I haven’t caught.”

“You have. That first time on the gazebo. Untie me, woman.”

“I like it when you call me woman. And babe. I definitely like babe.”

Mike changed tactics. “Sit on my cock, babe.”

“I thought you’d never ask.” She tossed the phone to the side. Did that hair flip thing that arched her breasts in the most delectable way. And then tilted her head to one side and licked her lips.

He knew the minute she sank her sweet pussy over his dick it was all over. And it was. After three days of almost straight fucking, he should be able to hold back the orgasm, but the more they screwed, the less control he seemed to have.

The lock didn’t hold this time.

She protested when he made her undo his bonds. “I’m sleepy.”

Not more than three seconds after they settled into a cozy snuggle, all her muscles relaxed and she went into a deep sleep.

They were back to normal screwing.

Mike almost groaned in disappointment, but then it occurred to him—now he could get back to slow, exquisite, lingering sex. Now it’d be his turn to call the shots. He toed up the covers, tucked the sheets over her shoulders, and hugged her close.

* * * *

He stared at the ceiling. Never had he felt so content. So sure that life was going to be grand. His cub would be born in late summer. He was going to be a father.

Early this morning while Melanie slept, he’d relented from his vow not to let the outside world in and checked his e-mail.

Sheriff Pincer had unexpectedly resigned but named his deputy as an interim replacement and announced his intention of running for mayor. The media interest in Whisper seemed to be dying down. Mike edged his mate to the side and slid out of bed.

Grabbing his laptop, he then headed to the swing on the porch, leaving the door a tad ajar. The thick pines blocked the sun’s rays and shadowed the wide veranda.

Drake had e-mailed a picture of the colt. Long-legged, a chestnut with a dark, full mane and three perfect white-socked hooves. Melanie would ooh and aah for hours and probably be teary for the next few days. She’d told him nothing in the world beat the smell of a newborn, not even the scent of cock. He hadn’t minded. She was going to be a perfect mom.

The colt’s soulful dark eyes seemed to be studying him, and Mike realized the horse had the same slight upward tilt to his almond-shaped orbs that Melanie’s did. Their daughter would be lucky to have such great eyes. Daughter? Mike blanked the thought away. A cramp hit low and hard in his belly. Bile flooded his throat.

Melanie mumbled.

He glanced at her through the open doorway. That was the first signal she’d awaken ravenous. Mike grinned. Sex made her sleep like a log and wake up hungry for some specific, outrageous dish. Like the chocolate éclairs this morning. Made from scratch and, considering the age of the gas stove, amazing.

Time to go into action. He was fully dressed when she lifted one eyelid and peered at him. “Why’re you dressed?”

“Virgil called. He’s in a bind. His sister can’t fill in for you anymore, and Brinda’s morning sickness seems to have turned into an all-day event.”

“Oh no.” She shot right up. “I have to call her. And get dressed. We have to go back into town.”

Holding up both hands, he said, “I’m not arguing. I knew you’d want to go in. Do you have extra uniforms at the Caboose, or will we have to go back to your house?”

She scrambled out of bed. “Always keep an extra one in my locker. Where’re my clothes?”

“I started laundry while you were sleeping.”

“Laundry? You’re nuts. How long do we have to wait?”

“There is another option.” He loved the way she managed to look both puzzled and pissed at the same time. “I’ve been buying clothes for you. I hate that blasted shapeless uniform.”

Melanie narrowed her eyes. “Slut clothes?”

He slapped a hand over his heart. “That you should think that of me. You wound me to the hilt.”

Rolling her eyes, she growled. “Okay. Show me these
clothes
.”

Thirty minutes later, Melanie twirled around in the bathroom. She shook her head and met his gaze in the mirror’s reflection. “I don’t know what to say. Not only my size, but perfect. Way too dressy for a drive to work, of course. How’d you do this? And shoes?”

“Five months of jacking off, following you around, watching you window-shop on Sagwash Street, hearing you sigh when you saw this dress.” He wasn’t exactly lying, more of a stretch of the truth. Brinda had known exactly what to buy.

“Okay it kind of creeps me out and at the same time makes me want to cry.”

He kissed the top of her head. “It’s getting late. We’ll have to hurry if you want to make it to the Caboose in time for the dinner rush.”

Mike took the back way into town, avoiding the main streets, and used the garbage truck alley to wind his way into the Caboose’s back lot. His phone dinged as he opened the door on Melanie’s side. He pulled the cell out of his pocket. “Dorland here.”

“Everything going according to plan?” Drake asked.

“Yep. Sure. I’ll be there.” Mike ended the call. “That was Drake, he needs to talk to me pronto.”

“Go.” She hopped out of the truck. “Come tell me everything when you’re done.”

“I promise.” He brushed his lips over hers.

Mike grinned when she hurried to the employee door and never even glanced back. He took off the minute the door closed behind her.

Drake was waiting for him in the copse of birch trees. “Here you go.”

Accepting the black tux from Drake, Mike asked, “How’re we doing for time?”

“Hurry and get into that monkey suit. I’ve a ton of updates. INS contacted Pincer. Jim Balden departed from New York before the warning went out. Destination Paris. In Paris he chartered a jet to Yemen. It flew over Syrian airspace. The air traffic controllers got a Mayday from the pilot. It was hit by mortar fire and was going down. Nothing since that last communication.”

“A fitting end. Too bad about the pilots and crew. And Charles Smith?”

“His body was found yesterday, but Dodge is keeping it hush-hush until the DNA comes in. He was mauled by bears.”

“You’re trying to pull one over on me, aren’t you?” Mike bit his tongue to prevent the automatic
pup
from spilling out.

“According to Dodge, the scent was unmistakable and there were clumps of fur left behind. From the tracks, they figure at least five bears.”

“Melanie’s going to love that one. The irony of it all.”

“Yeah, the sad thing is they didn’t shred every inch of skin. They left his face untouched.”

An icy breeze swirled Mike’s shoulders as he shed his sweater. “Eerie. It’s good that we have Melanie on our side. Shit, if that doesn’t give you the creepy-crawlies, I don’t know what would.”

“Makes you kind of wonder if all those legends didn’t have some basis in truth.” Drake handed Mike a still-wrapped formal shirt. “A few other things. The cottages we rented at the resort were all trashed early this morning. Susie and Kitchi went to view the scene with Pincer. All the valuables were taken, electronics, jewelry, and that journal with the wolf legends.”

Mike halted in the middle of shrugging on his shirt. “Damn it. Who’d want to take that? Fuck, I never finished reading it. Anything else?”

“They’ve got four suspects in custody—looks like a couple of young tribal males out to make a quick buck. By the way, I figured out how I missed Pincer and Brinda’s hookups.”

Mike crossed his eyes. “And this is important how?”

“Because I never miss stuff like that. Brinda’s been working part-time converting the town’s manual records to the new computer system.”

“Definitely not the time and place for your dramatic flair, Drake. Spit it out.”

“The conversion center is located in the basement of the county coroner’s office. Pincer’s been pouring over those records of Millar, Boyd, and Melanie’s father and grandfather for a very long time.” Drake wiggled his eyebrows. “Wonder what came first, his interest in the mill fire or Brinda?”

He couldn’t chase back a chortle. “Nice to know the vaunted sheriff has a definite weakness. Where’re my shoes?”

“Here.” Drake handed him a box. “Socks in there too. Couple of other things. Freddy’s been going through the tribal files, both manual and computerized. Dr. Longshorn, the tribe’s doctor from eight years ago, definitely falsified Melanie’s grandfather and father’s causes of death.”

“I figured that one. He’d do it on Shuman’s order, of course. Is the good doctor still alive?”

“Passed on a while back. Also, there’s no record of us asking for sanctuary. I mentioned that to Gray. Apparently a few years back, he tried to ingratiate himself with some of the younger male members of the tribe, guys his age. Got drunk as a skunk. Long story short, they broke into a few houses on the reservation, stole food and booze, and crashed in some hidey-hole lodge used for duck hunting.”

Mike hopped on one foot while trying to pull a sock over the other. “Get to the point.”

“When I told him about that, he remembered that the guys he’d been with kept a stash of drugs and liquor hidden in an alcove in the wall. Gray said he’d scented something familiar about the place but couldn’t pinpoint what. We went back there. Searched the place top to bottom and found not one but two other alcoves. Looks like Boyd and Millar met there often. We found a knife with bloodstains. Had it analyzed. Three strains of DNA, Boyd’s, Melanie’s father, and her grandfather.”

He leaned against the tree and stamped both feet into the new shoes. “And? I’m getting married in a few minutes. Do you think we can skip the drama?”

“They found poison on the knife tip. Freddy showed a pic of the knife to the elders who witnessed the takuskanka-otaktay. It was the same knife Shuman used in the fight. The elders opted to do nothing about the whole thing, the past being the past and all that. When Freddy told us that, two and two clicked for Gray. The lodge is located not five minutes away from the spot where Gray’s father was killed.”

“Shuman didn’t kill Melanie’s father. Millar did. Ten to one he put the poison on the knife Shuman fought with.” Mike straightened. “No wonder Shuman refused us sanctuary and never told anyone. There’s no way I would have left any of this alone. The truth about his sons would’ve come out, one way or another.”

“Yeah.” Drake tossed Mike a tie. “What’s ironic is that Shuman sold his soul for his sons. That plus Boyd being betrayed by his partner in crime. Quite a kill list for Millar: Melanie’s father and grandfather, Boyd, Eddie, George, Augustus Balden, Shuman, but there was a reason behind all the killings. Apparently, before He Who Sees With Eagle Eyes accepted the takuskanka-otaktay challenge, he paid a visit to Raine’s father’s reservation and issued an ultimatum; renounce their black wolf practices or he’d wipe them out. ”

“What?” The hairs on Mike’s nape stood up like little spears. “And?”

“According to the files Freddy found about half did, and Melanie’s grandfather bid them leave at once. There was a fire. Mikey, whoever stayed behind was wiped out. Not a black wolf left.”

“I don’t get it. Why wasn’t Melanie’s grandfather arrested?”

“Most of the land on the edge of the Canadian border suffered drought conditions worse than the depression in 1994. There had been dozens of forest fires. This one raged out of control and consumed everything in its path. The authorities never even considered arson.”

Mike braced against a tree trunk, too stunned for long moments to speak. His mind raced. “Millar and Smith were after what was left of the White family. This was all about revenge.”

“That’s what Freddy thinks.”

“Do all the other women know about this?” Mike thumbed his collar up.

“Yeah.”

Something niggled at the back of his mind. “Oh yeah. Satisfy my curiosity. Tom and Charles Smith related?”

“That one bothered me too. Nada.”

He tightened the tie’s knot. “Does this match? Blue shirt, navy tie, and pin-striped morning suit? And isn’t there supposed to be a handkerchief in the pocket? Is my hair sticking up? Shit, I should’ve had it cut.”

“Focus.” Mike could tell Drake totally enjoyed being the one to say that. “Janie’s going to keep your mate busy and prevent her from changing. Lizzie got in not three hours ago. She, Susie, and Brinda are all ready to go.”

“How’s that?” Mike smoothed the jacket’s tails. “Who picked a morning suit, for Christ’s sake?”

“Mom. Perfect. The muscle under your eye’s jumping like mad.”

“I just want to get this done.” Mike half jogged around to the front of the Caboose. The scene that met his eyes made him stop on a nickel.

The front parking lot had been turned into a celebratory makeshift outdoor church. Brinda, Susie, Mom, Virgil, Kitchi, and all the staff had done a stellar job. Lit garlands hung from the four poles on each corner of the lot. Rows and rows of chairs decorated with streaming yellow ribbons filled the asphalt rectangle. At the south end, Whisper nuzzled her foal under the watchful eyes of Doc G. and Pincer.

Andy, the busboy, approached Mike, his focus on the black satin pillow he carried. “Susie said to give you the engagement ring before you go in.”

Fuck a duck, he’d clean forgotten. He picked up the three-carat round diamond set in platinum that he’d picked out three days earlier. It looked a tad on the small size. He should never have let Brinda talk him out of that five-carat stone. “Thanks.”

Drake slapped him on the back. “Go for it, Bro.”

By the time he opened the door to the diner, Mike could’ve sworn he was having a heart attack. He hated public speaking. That’s why Drake held all their press conferences. Virgil, standing behind the cashier desk, winked. He gave Mike a thumbs-up. “All ready.”