One Second (Seven Series Book 7) (8 page)

Reno and April were already on the porch, arms loaded with blankets, pillows, sacks, and their luggage. Wheeler opened the door and took April’s bags before they headed inside.

I glared down at the black cat shadowing beside me. “Well, if it isn’t Sparty McFly.”

He meowed, his wide eyes blinking between Austin and me.

“What the fuck?” Austin breathed, stopping in his tracks.

I followed the direction of his gaze. “Is that your dad’s car?”

It was a rhetorical question. His dad drove an old station wagon—the kind with wood paneling on the side. He also had a bumper sticker that said:
I BRAKE FOR NO ONE
.

He had a great sense of humor.

Austin’s parents lived with a pack in South Dakota. They didn’t visit too often unless it was to see their grandkids, but we chatted with them on the video cam, and sometimes the kids stayed with them for weeks at a time.

Austin hurried up the steps on the side of the porch and looked at Wheeler. “What the hell are they doing here?”

Wheeler leaned on the doorjamb. “That any way to talk about your parents?”

“Shut it,” Denver said from the doorway. “I had to listen to you bitch and moan for the first two hours.”

“Yeah? Well you’re not the one who had to give up your bed and sleep on the sofa, are you?”

I nudged Austin. “Why can’t they sleep in the guest room like normal people?”

Denver reached for the frame above the door and laughed. “Give me a minute while I imagine my parents on a trundle bed.”

Austin dropped his bag. “What are they doing here?” he asked, punctuating each word.

Wheeler narrowed his eyes, giving him a sinister expression that complemented his tattoos. “Something we should know about? You’re acting… funny.”

Denver nodded once. “Yeah. And
they’re
acting funny.”

“Where are they?”

Wheeler took my heavy bag. “Pop likes to go to bed early so he can wake us up at the crack of dawn.”

Denver’s indigo eyes examined me closely. “Well, someone looks all glowy and refreshed.”

I shoved him out of the way and headed inside. While the men hauled the luggage toward the stairs, I took a moment to look around and draw in a deep breath of home. The kids had already gone to sleep. Usually at this hour, a few of us were either watching TV or quietly having drinks in the game room. Because the bedrooms were upstairs, the after-midnight crowd frequently came down to play cards or enjoy a late snack.

As I headed toward the kitchen for a drink, I noticed a jigsaw puzzle on the dining table that Maddox must have recently started. Sometimes he’d sit for hours working those things with April. I’d never had that kind of patience.

Austin came up behind me in the dark kitchen and flipped on the counter lights. “You want me to fix you something?”

I opened the fridge, a beacon of light shining on me. “Ooh, there’s leftover stew.”

He wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my neck. “You want something hot?”

“Mmm, that feels good,” I whispered, backing up into him.

“All right, y’all. The Love Boat has docked and vacation time is over,” Denver announced, leaning on the counter and peering into a cookie jar.

Austin let go and stepped back. “Sit down, Ladybug. I’ll make you something to eat.”

“Pancakes? I love it when you make me naughty pancakes with the batter.” I grinned at him.

“Keep it up, smartass.” He gave me a kiss on the lips and growled low. “Let me feed you.”

This vacation turned out to be a miracle
. Austin, making me food? Who was I to deny the man? I sat down on the bench of our long kitchen table and faced Austin. Denver climbed onto the counter, almost knocking over a glass.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I glared at Denver’s bare feet, sliding around on the countertop where I often rolled out cookie dough.

He reached on top of the cabinet and pulled down a bag of Cheetos, then jumped to the floor. “Gotta hide the good stuff around here, honeypie.”

“You’ve revealed your hiding place.”

He straddled the bench to my left and ripped the bag open with his teeth before dumping the cheesy snacks onto the table. “I’ve got a million more.”

“Well, the boys are onto you.”

“True that. They found my caramel stash in an empty box of tampons, those little demons.”

“What’s going on in here?” Maizy sleepily asked.

She rubbed her eyes, standing near the entrance in a long T-shirt that reached her knees—her blond hair messy and obscuring her face.

Denver turned around and patted his lap. “Come here, Peanut.”

Maizy sat on his lap and rested her head on his shoulder. “I didn’t know you were coming home today,” she said to me. “I would have waited up.”

“Has anything out of the ordinary been going on that I should know about?” Austin asked, stirring the bowl of stew after retrieving it from the microwave.

Denver wrapped his arms around Maizy. “Like what?”

Austin kept stirring, showing us his back. “Just anything out of the ordinary.”

Denver laughed quietly and grabbed a handful of Cheetos from behind him. “Aside from Wheeler and Naya humping like bunnies every time she cooks dinner?”

“What about the drifters?” Maizy asked.

Austin closed the distance between us. “What drifters?”

She raised her head, sweeping her wavy hair back. “While you were gone, there were a few bands of rogues reported. I noticed something a month ago and asked around—that’s when people were talking about a few unfamiliar Shifters asking questions about some of the larger packs. Anyhow, it seemed like a good story, but the Council wouldn’t let me write it.”

Three months ago, Maizy had approached the Council about starting an online subscription news site for Shifters—stuff relevant to Austin residents. Naya connected her with some Internet gurus who set up a secure website that was password protected. They assured the Council that no one except subscribers could gain access. How they managed to do that, I didn’t understand, but they would have to maintain the system round the clock, so the Council approved the endeavor because it would create jobs.

Maizy still wrote fiction on the side for a creative outlet, deciding someday she’d do something with it, but her interest in the community had transformed her into a regular Lois Lane.

“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” Austin asked.

She shrugged. “Do you know how many different stories I hear? Most of them don’t pan out to be anything of interest. I try to focus on new businesses, land for sale, and another popular thing that’s come up lately is young Shifters looking for a new pack. Like a classifieds section.” She flicked a quick glance at me. “Sorry, I’m rambling. While you two were on vacation, a few rogues traveling together were spotted at a Breed bar. Someone noticed their plates weren’t from Texas, and they were asking a lot of questions. A friend of mine checked out the Breed motels but didn’t come up with anything. It seems kind of suspicious as to where they’re staying or going.”

I furrowed my brow. “Why would the Council want to bury that story?”

“They said writing something like that without any hard evidence was sensationalism,” Maizy replied. “I disagreed because it seemed relevant, but they’re right. Without hard facts, I have to be careful about writing something that would cause people to speculate and panic, not to mention it might come across as slander and get me in trouble. Responsible reporting and all that.”

I shared a look with Austin, and he returned to the counter, retrieving my bowl of stew.

“
My
, someone’s behaving differently,” Denver remarked, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched Austin butter my roll. “That must have been
some
vacation. Next thing you know, you’ll be painting her toenails.”

Maizy elbowed him in the chest.

He kissed her neck and made a growling sound like a dog fighting for a bone. Maizy giggled and stood up, tugging his hand. “Let’s leave them alone. We’ll see you two in the morning.”

I rubbed my eyes. “Good night, Maze.”

Austin stepped over the bench and sat beside me, facing the table while I sat facing the kitchen. He swiped the Cheetos out of the way and set the bowl of stew on the table. “I scheduled a meeting with the Council tomorrow. After that, I’m telling the pack.”

I leaned against his shoulder. “I need to check on the shop and get started making orders.”

“Maybe you should take the day off.” His arm slid around my midriff, and I scooted closer.

“Since when does Austin Cole want me to lie around on my lazy butt and eat all day?”

“Speaking of… why don’t you turn around and eat while it’s hot.”

I began kissing the rogue whiskers on his throat, my hand sliding down to his jeans. “Because I found something tastier to nibble on.”

He backed away and lifted my legs to turn me around. Then he scooted the bowl close enough so that the steam was wetting my face. “No dessert until you finish every bite.”

Austin was behaving strangely, and my guess was he was anxious about how the Council was going to react to the news, although maybe they already had information of their own. It seemed that coddling me was his new distraction.

But I didn’t mind.

I ate every bite.

And I got my dessert.

Austin arranged a meeting in one of the private rooms at the Blue Door, a local Breed club
. It had a masculine vibe with dark walls and black leather furniture. Two long couches faced each other on the right side of the room, separated by a glass table and a chair on either end. They not only had privacy, but most rooms were soundproof so Vampires couldn’t eavesdrop.

Turner, a member of the Council, sat at the bar and stirred a packet of sugar into his glass of tea. Lexi had always joked about how he looked like a redneck version of Sean Connery. He had the most pull in the territory, and he’d invited Romeo, another Councilman who often accompanied Turner to mating ceremonies and other official gatherings. Romeo had dark skin, freckles, and a friendly demeanor. He gave Austin an impassive glance from his spot on the sofa.

Turner licked his spoon and set it on a white napkin before sliding off his barstool. He eased up to the upholstered chair opposite Austin and took his time sitting down. The cubed ice in his tall glass clinked as he drank several gulps. Austin grew impatient as Turner wiped a few drops of tea off his beard.

“So what makes you so sure that Texas is on the target list?” he asked, setting his glass on the table.

Austin touched the cleft in his chin. “Axel interrogated his prisoners, and I have no reason to doubt him. You haven’t heard anything?”

“Well, we don’t exactly have a hotline, son.” Turner stroked his short beard. “I don’t see a reason to panic. If they’re going to start a war in Texas, then Dallas or Abilene will be high on their hit list. They’ll be working their way down to the border.”

Austin leaned forward, frustrated. “Unless they’re coordinating the attack. If they hit one city at a time, word would spread. Packs would beef up security.”

“Word doesn’t always spread. If they had to retreat from Colorado, then they won’t be staging another attack in the short term. An experienced leader would assess the damage, rethink his strategy, and relocate his soldiers where he sees a shot at victory.”

“I’ve heard rumors.”

Turner reached for his tea, the condensation dripping from the bottom of the glass. “People sure love to talk.”

“Rogues have been moving through the city for the past month. Were you aware of this?”

“Can’t do anything about it. They ain’t breaking any laws, and there’s no proof of what their animals are. They could be panthers, lions, Sensors, Relics—who the hell knows?”

Austin rubbed his hands together, eyes still fixed on Turner. “If you’re unwilling to bring one of them in and hire a Vampire to poke around in his head, then we need to consider increasing security. My mate came up with an idea—”

“Lexi Talulah?” He cackled and ended it with a snort. “She’s a firecracker, that one.” The ice clinked against his glass as he raised it in a toast.

“She suggested that the prominent packs in the territory lend a few of their men to the midsize packs for extra security—just a temporary arrangement.”

Turner leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “And what about the smaller packs?”

“Either the larger ones can absorb them or they can band together.”

“And who will be in charge?” Romeo interjected, lacing his fingers together.

Austin didn’t have the answer to that question. “They’ll have to find a way to work together.”

“You can’t have one Packmaster with dominance over the other,” Turner said. “He’d lose standing with his own men. I think we all know that the size of a pack doesn’t determine an alpha’s importance.”

Austin leaned back. “If I had to do something like this, then it would be better to pair me up with someone I can work with. Maybe that should be taken into consideration. If the Packmasters come to a disagreement, then their betas can step in to give advice.”

“You’re not considering this, are you?” Romeo asked Turner. “And how long do you expect these packs to live together? A month? A year? Whose land? One of them would have to abandon his territory—an easy acquisition for the enemy.”

Austin chuckled. “Let’s be real. Packs under ten don’t have anything worth taking but a shack and a few acres at best. That’s not what the Northerners are coming all this way for. Smaller packs might resist, but the larger ones will adhere to whatever rules the Council puts out. This isn’t about feelings; it’s about survival.”

“I don’t know.” Turner scooped his fingers into his glass and then chomped on a piece of ice. “Asking a Packmaster to give up his men won’t be an easy task, even if it’s for a worthy cause. Who do you think will give you a loaner?” he asked, a chuckle dying in his throat.

“Maybe there are other options; I don’t know. Packs my size may not want or need additions, and that’s fine. But we should at least encourage the larger packs to offer up reinforcements as a show of solidarity. I have strong men and women in my house, but others may not have that same luxury. Maybe they have more kids or older members. If this war goes down, it’s us against them. Period. I’m willing to bet they’re sending scouts to size up our territories and take notes. I’m asking you to step in with a solution. If nothing happens, then at least we have a plan for the future. Who knows? Maybe temporarily merging packs might strengthen alliances. Have you ever been to Colorado?”

Turner crossed one leg over the other. “Can’t say I have. I’ve heard it’s cold enough to freeze your nipples off.”

“They’re organized. If all the big cities operated like them, then we’d have one hell of a defense.”

“Easier said than done. Tell you what, Cole. I’ll put something in force, but only on the condition that you help smooth out the kinks.”

Austin appreciated Turner’s willingness to include him. “I’ve worked hard over the years to forge alliances, so I’ve got influence. I can sway any packs that resist. I wanted to bring them all in for this meeting, but out of respect, I’m speaking with you privately. Regardless of what you decide, I have a right to warn my allies, and that’s what I plan to do when I get home.”

“And when should this all begin?” Romeo asked as he stood up and circled behind the sofa. “If the scouts are here, they’ll notice we’re preparing. Let us not make haste in our decisions.”

He had a point. It wasn’t advantageous to let the enemy know your plans.

Austin replied without hesitation. “We’ll start with voluntary donations from the larger packs; no one’s watching
that
closely. If we have time, we can move people over slowly—even put up fake For Sale
signs. If anyone here has any better ideas, then I’m all ears,” he said, emotions rising at the thought of his family in danger. “Let’s include the Packmasters so they can contribute their ideas and put something in force. We can’t organize this alone. That’s the advantage we have over the rogues. Our packs are strong, and when unified, we’re even stronger. They’re a bunch of men following a single leader, and that’ll fall apart eventually. I don’t think the larger packs up north are a part of this; they have too much to lose.”

“He has a point,” Turner said to Romeo. “It won’t take long before they disband again, especially without Packmasters to keep order. I’m willing to give up a couple of my men, but not my strongest fighters. That is the best I can offer.”

Romeo rested his hands on the back of the leather sofa. “And what of the rogues who already live in our community? Some are good men, and we might sway them to side with us before it’s too late.”

“Well, we need to know if they’re with us or against us,” Turner said. “The sooner the better.”

***

A growl vibrated against my stomach, and I rolled over, wrinkling my nose. It felt good to sleep in, even though I’d woken up a couple of times from the kids racing down the hall or Denver imitating Tarzan’s yell.

I cracked my eyelids open, rubbing the sleep away. Something heavy pressed against my body and I glanced down. Trevor’s wolf stretched his front leg across my hip. As I scooted up on my elbows, my eyes widened at William lying at the foot of the bed, using my feet as a pillow.

“Get out of here!” I yelled, glaring down at my packmates. “This is not an orgy. I go away on a short vacation and you act like I’ve been on a milk carton for the past twenty years.”

Trevor’s multicolored wolf sneezed and then rolled onto his back.

William sat up, his short brown curls in a mess. He rubbed his liquid-brown eyes and yawned. “When Trevor’s wolf came in this morning, he picked up your scent on Austin, so he went looking for you.”

“How many times have I said no wolves in the house?”

“Indeed,” he replied with a look of mischief. “One can hardly implement that rule in a Shifter house. You should go downstairs and eat breakfast. Mustn’t spend all day sleeping.”

I stroked Trevor’s hind paw, and he wiggled. “Where’s Austin?”

“He left. Your in-laws are waiting downstairs.”

Oh, God.
The in-laws.
I’d completely forgotten. I really liked Austin’s parents, but his mom and I had a tendency to butt heads. I’m sure it was natural for a mother to want to tell her boys what to do, but this wasn’t her house, and I was the Packmaster’s mate. The men were often conflicted between listening to their mother or obeying their alpha female. The last time I asked them to clean the table, she’d told them to go relax. Everyone has responsibilities in the house, so I had a big problem with that. She wasn’t exactly the homemaker type, but she firmly believed that men should be off somewhere hunting boars or fashioning weapons out of sticks, not doing dishes or cleaning the toilet.

I got up and put on a pair of grey sweats. “Why are you in here?”

“Thought I’d keep an eye on Trevor—make sure he didn’t piss on your floor.”

A likely story
.

William didn’t exactly snuggle up in bed with people, so the whole situation was awkward.

“Trevor, get down,” I snapped.

His wolf obediently hopped off the bed and trotted into the hall. William stretched across the covers, his shirt rising up and exposing the thin trail of hair below his navel.

Yeah, nothing weird about this at all
.

I dug in the closet and retrieved a pair of pink bunny slippers with giant ears. Not my first choice while saying hello to the folks, but it was all I could find to warm my cold feet. And honestly, I was too groggy to get dressed up. Maybe Austin was right about taking the day off from work.

I headed downstairs to be social.

“Katharine, what a wonderful surprise.” I greeted her warmly, crossing the kitchen to give her a quick hug. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“Evidently,” she replied, stealing a glimpse of my bunny slippers.

Katharine looked to be in her late forties, even though she had a few hundred years on her. She was taller than her husband, George. Her blue eyes stood out amid her thick brows and dark hair she wore clipped back and parted down the middle. Katharine was an attractive woman, just not in the way of makeup and nail polish. She preferred long skirts or old-fashioned trousers of a solid color, and I presumed it had to do with the era she grew up in. She had Jericho’s smile, Denver’s eyes, and a little bit of everyone in her.

Katharine stepped back and smoothed down my messy hair, which hadn’t seen a brush in over twenty-four hours. “When Austin returns, we’ll talk about why we’re here. Come sit, and I’ll fix you a plate of leftovers.”

I neared the table. Melody had organized a myriad of beads and fabrics at the end of the table, studiously working on her next project. She had just turned fifteen and received all the artsy-craftsy things for her birthday that she’d asked for.

Wheeler’s rectangular glasses slid down his nose while he read the newspaper. The visual made me laugh because there was more ink on his body than on the paper.