Wild Instinct (31 page)

No response for five steps, then, “I’m going to live with Aunt Rachel if I don’t like him.”

Ah. And now the crux of the matter. The kid was staking his claim. Just in case. Cur’s lips twitched as he fought back a smile. “I see.”

Another quick glance. “And you won’t have any say about it.”

The kid dropped back before he could counter. As a strategist, Josiah had potential. As a werewolf he had a lot to learn. When it came to Rachel, Cur intended to have all the say.

“Don’t bet on it.”

 

 

JOSIAH hadn’t been kidding. By the time they got to the top of the ridge, Rachel was frowning and muttering under her breath, cursing him, the hill and then him again. Cur reached back to help her over a rocky streambed. She pushed his hand aside. From his perch on Cur’s shoulder, Josiah said, “Told you.”

“So you did.”

He soothed his irritation by watching the sway of Rachel’s ass as she strode ahead. She had a cute ass. Well-rounded for her size with just that touch of plumpness that invited a man to cup. His fingers twitched. And squeeze. Definitely squeeze.

He stopped by a large rock. Rachel kept going and that ass kept swaying.

“Aunt Rachel!”

Rachel turned at Josiah’s cry. Cur motioned her back before swinging Josiah down.

“We’re here.”

She stopped in front of him. “Where’s here?”

Pulling the brush away from the rock, he revealed the opening to a cave. Inside sat two dirt bikes.

“You couldn’t have left them at the bottom of the mountain?”

“Nope.” They were too likely to have been discovered. And once they got on these, the race would be on. The sound of motors carried, and the only thing between them and home was Carmichael land and rogues. If he were alone, he’d have enjoyed the challenge. Burdened by his mate and a child, all he could do was grit his teeth.

“Do you know how to ride?”

He could have saved his breath. Rachel was in the cave, backing one of the bright red bikes out. She put on a helmet with a sense of familiarity. “Yes.”

She handed the child’s helmet to Josiah. He put the helmet on with the same sense of familiarity.

“You know how to ride.”

Josiah smiled. “My daddy was the best.”

The kid’s father had died more than two years ago. “Let’s hope you inherited his genes.”

With a kid’s literalness, Josiah nodded. “My mom says I look just like him and Aunt Rachel says I have his coordination.”

“Good, because some of the hardest riding you’re ever going to do is coming up tomorrow.”

Rachel paused, buckling her helmet. “Tomorrow?”

“We’ve got eighty miles between us and Haven. The quickest shot is straight through Carmichael territory, and in case you didn’t know, they’re a bit pissed at Haven right now.”

“Why?”

“According to them, they don’t like upstarts.”

“And according to you?”

“I think they’re annoyed their best Protectors jumped ship to marry humans and form a new pack.”

She took off her helmet and shook her hair out. “So why are we going through their territory?”

“There’s only so much gas we can carry and the rogues aren’t letting up. They want Megan, and you two are their leverage to make that happen.”

“Sarah Anne will never give them Megan.”

“I imagine Garrett will have something to say about it, too, but that won’t stop the rogues from trying.” And maybe succeeding.

Josiah was over at the other bike, checking it out.

Rachel whispered, “Even if they capture him, what can they hope to gain? No mother would trade one child for another.”

“No, but any mother would try to get him back, which could create an opportunity. And there’s always the possibility they think Josiah shares Megan’s gifts.”

Still watching Josiah, she pushed her long brown hair off her face, yanking her fingers through a snarl. “I hate this.”

He turned her into his arms, feeling like a lifetime had passed since he’d held her against him. “I know.”

That she didn’t fight him was more telling than her muttered, “Hate it, hate it, hate it.”

Threading his fingers through her hair, he massaged her scalp. He wished he had better answers for her, but the reality was what it was. “Haven’s a start on change.”

“Only if they allow it to stay.”

“It’ll stay.”

“Because you will it?”

“Because we’ll fight for it. I may be a mixed-blood, Rachel, but when it comes to loyalty, I’m wolf through and through. You don’t need to worry about that.”

“As if that was one of my worries.”

Hmm. “If that wasn’t one of your worries, what was?”

She pushed against his chest. “That.”

He didn’t let her go. “You’re lying.”

“I don’t care. I’m hungry, tired and irritated. In other words, not in the mood for fifty questions.”

He tipped her head back, seeing the truth in her expression. Yes, she was. And she was dependent on him to take care of all her needs. Not just the sexual ones. Satisfaction spread through him. Damn, he liked knowing that.

“I’m hungry, too,” Josiah piped up, coming back over.

“Then I guess we’d better get to work. Josiah, put that helmet back on the bike. Rachel, put that bike back in the cave.”

“And what are you going to do?”

He shrugged his pack off his shoulder. “I’m going to fix supper.”

“What are we having?” Josiah asked.

“Roast beef?” Rachel asked hopefully, pushing the bike back into the cave.

“Mashed potatoes?” Josiah added, hooking his helmet on the bike.

“Green bean casserole?”

“Yuck!”

Cur laughed at Josiah’s disgust. “How about corn on the cob instead?”

Josiah came scampering back. “You have corn on the cob?”

Cur almost felt guilty, the kid sounded so excited. He handed him a granola bar. “You can pretend that’s corn on the cob.”

Josiah took the bar, looked at the picture on the wrapper and sighed. “Maybe.”

Rachel finished covering the entrance to the cave. “Say, ‘Thank you.’”

The boy mumbled a thank-you and went to sit on a rock ten feet away. Cur handed Rachel a bar. She took it with the same lack of enthusiasm. “His world revolves around food. A few times I was sure we’d get caught because of his need to eat.”

“It wouldn’t have hurt him to miss a meal or two. That stop at that burger joint almost cost you.” If he’d been a minute later arriving on the scene, the rogue tailing her would have completed the call reporting her location.

“I know. Except he gets so hungry.”

Cur could remember going days with his stomach gnawing at his backbone without anyone caring. “It wouldn’t have killed him.”

She cocked her head to the side as she unwrapped her dinner. “I suppose I owe you a thank-you that we didn’t get caught.”

“It wouldn’t go amiss.”

She smiled. The first one he’d seen up close. She sat on the ground, bracing her back against the stone. The smile took her face from beauty to earthy charm and captivated him just as completely. He loved the way the left side of her mouth tilted just a touch higher than the right, the way it revealed her bottom front teeth were just the slightest bit crooked, the glimpse it provided of the real woman behind the guarded mask. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

She waved her hand. “You can sit, you know.”

He was still standing there holding the pack, staring at her like a lovesick pup in the throes of his first crush. He scanned with his senses. No danger. Dropping the pack, he sat beside her so his knee was touching hers. She scooted over a bit. He smiled at the betrayal of awareness. She’d been as nervous as a cat since that kiss last night. Though all he’d done afterward was hold her through the night, she seemed to be waiting for him to pounce. It was amusing, irritating and, well, too tempting a target to resist.

“Soon as I finish my supper, I’ll get right on that.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “On what?”

He jerked his chin in her direction. “Your ravishment.”

She choked on the granola bar. He was obliged to pound her back. As soon as she caught her breath, she snapped, “Are you never serious?”

“I have my moments.”

For a second she stared at him, her eyes bright in her red face, and then she groaned. “I seriously don’t want to like you.”

“I know. It’s a mystery to me, seeing as we’re going to spend our lives together.”

The laughter left her face. “Yeah.”

One of these days she was going to prick his temper with that question mark she kept attaching to their union. “Are you thinking because I’m a mixed-blood I can’t bond?”

“Not at all.” She took the last bite of her dinner and crumpled the wrapper. He had to wait until she finished chewing for more, and what he got wasn’t what he wanted. “Is Sarah Anne happy with her mate?”

“So Garrett says.”

“Garrett being her mate?”

“Yup.”

Grabbing his pack, she pulled it toward her. “Well, that makes it a questionable source.”

“Garrett doesn’t lie.”

“He sounds like a real paragon.”

“He’s as good a man as you’ll ever meet.”

“As good as you?” She raised her eyebrows at him.

He debated telling her about Teri, but since he didn’t know if she’d survived, he decided against it. “Better.”

That got another lift of her brow. “If you’ll look in the front pocket, you’ll find some chocolate.”

Her entire face lit up. “Chocolate?”

“Yeah.” In two seconds she found the candy. It was double-sealed in plastic so as not to give off a scent. “Don’t rip the bags.”

“I’m not an idiot.”

“Never thought you were. You just seem to be in a bit of a hurry.”

“Well, duh. It’s chocolate.”

He chuckled as Josiah came trotting over. “Uncle Cur has chocolate?”

“Don’t call him that.”

The boy paused, his lip pushing out pugnaciously.

“It’s fine,” Cur said. “I don’t mind.”

“Well, I do. Cur is an awful appellation.”

“It’s been my nickname for years.”

“But not the name you were given at birth.”

“This bothers you?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t know how to feel about that. Glad that she was watching out for his feelings or annoyed she had to make a big deal out of something he’d long since put to rest. In the end it was the way she looked at him that made up his mind for him.

“Curran.”

“That’s your name?”

“Yes.”

Josiah repeated it. “Uncle Curran.” He nodded. “That does sound better.”

Hell, even the kid was on his case. “Whatever.”

Rachel was back to rummaging in the pack. “What’s this?” She pulled out a double-wrapped jar of peanut butter.

“What does it look like?”

“Peanut butter, which you said you’re allergic to.”

“I am.”

“Then why do you have it?”

“It has its uses.”

Rachel opened the bag. “Looks like we’ve got dipping sauce for our chocolate, Josiah.”

The kid whooped. Rachel met Cur’s gaze with a smug smile and dipped her fingers in the jar.

He swore under his breath and took another bite of his granola bar.

So much for his plans to kiss the sass from her.

Eight

SOMETHING was wrong.

Rachel kept her eyes closed and absorbed the silence around her within the small cave. She could smell the gas for the motorbikes, the rubber of the tires, Cur, Josiah, and . . . others! Cur’s hand came over her mouth. His lips brushed her ear.

“We’ve got company.”

She nodded to let him know she understood.

“Don’t panic, but I want you to take Josiah and slip into that hidden alcove in the back of the cave. No matter what, you stay there.”

“What about you?”

He reached into the pack. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Of course I’m worried about you.”

“We’re not bonded.” Shifting up on his elbow, he dragged a whiskey bottle clear of the pack. “You’ve got nothing to lose.”

Except him.

“That’s a lousy thing to say.”

“It’s the truth. Now, very quietly, take Josiah to the alcove.”

Josiah nodded as soon as she got near. He’d heard. It was eerie sometimes how easily the boy accepted danger. She knew for a fact with the exception of his father’s death, no violence had ever touched his life. Sarah Anne had seen to that, but still, when faced with danger, he possessed an eerie calm. Maybe he really was a Protector. Maybe they were all like this. Maybe Curran had been like this. She didn’t know. Protectors were identified early in life, and as soon as they were, they were taken into training. They didn’t grow up mingling with the pack. They didn’t form attachments. Their loyalty was to the pack first. Everything else second, and they were raised to ensure it. Another thing Sarah Anne didn’t want for her children. God help Haven if they tried to enforce tradition with Josiah. And God help Sarah Anne if Josiah decided he wanted it. The boy at five was more single-minded than many an adult.

Josiah slid out of his sleeping bag. Taking her hand, he led her to the alcove. Curran’s eyebrow rose at the boy leading her rather than the other way around, but she’d long since gotten used to it. Josiah protected all the women in his life.

Curran grabbed his sleeping bag and handed it to her. She pulled it on top of them into the tiny crevice that barely fit them both. She jerked in surprise when he poured alcohol on it. The stench burned her nostrils, drowning out all others. Snaking his hand behind her neck, he pulled her to him, kissing her hard and deep, his tongue thrusting past her lips, sliding along hers. Before she could do anything more than gasp in shock, he stepped back. His thumb stroked over her lips as his gaze met hers. She expected to see regret, sadness, but instead she saw . . . satisfaction?