Pack and Coven (26 page)

Either way, it was time for him to uphold his end of the bargain and become alpha here. Time to say goodbye.

“Bianca,” June said, “Susan's a recessive, isn't she?”

Bianca glanced up. “So?”

June picked up a Dixie cup and poked her finger into the contents, stirring it. “You need a partner to balance the energies of the pack. Does it have to be Harry?”

“Do you see any other candidates around here? I just see a bunch of…I don't know what you people are. You obviously know about us.”

“We do,” June agreed. “We're not a risk to your pack or to any shifters. I swear it. As long as you're not a risk to…us.”

“You're not lying.” Bianca nibbled her lip as she hugged Susan. “You're a juvenile, June, but the rest of you don't smell right. I have a good nose.”

“I know you do.” June rubbed Harry's ears gently, avoiding the sore spots. She exchanged a glance with Annette. “Normally I don't adlib. I hate to adlib. But I do have an idea.”

After helping Bianca with a revised ceremony that instated Susan as the second alpha, June and Harry accepted a ride from Annette back to Millington. Or, June accepted it on their behalf. Harry was form stuck and cross about it, growling at everyone but her.

“I think that went well,” Annette said as the minivan trundled up a steep grade. “The poppy in June's spell should fuzz their memories enough that they think they came up with the bright idea to boost Susan themselves. They'll think Harry's indie friends rescued him, but they'll have a little trouble remembering faces and scent markers. It works out great.”

“Should we talk about details in front of the dog?” Vern protested from the back.

Harry gruffed at him, and June wished she could too. Vern was not only a coven elder but a region elder; he just didn't behave like one.

“He already knows everything,” she reminded them. She and Harry rode in the middle seat, his big, hairy body pressed against her like a winter coat. “Sorry to talk about you like you're not here, Harry.”

His skin twitched, the lupine equivalent of a shrug.

“Whatever.” Vern clicked the buckle on his seat belt repeatedly. “As you say, he is sitting right here. We'll talk about this when he's not.”

“There's no need to talk because we're not going to erase him.” June poured some alpha into the announcement. It didn't seem fair to force her and Harry back to status quo—her as Sandie, Harry as her friend.

Nothing but friends.

There weren't enough libido-dampening spells in the world to counteract her love for him now that she'd taken the final step. If she and Harry ended up on the lam, their progress was going to be hindered by the fact that, between the two of them, they owned no functional vehicles.

No one responded to June's assertion for a long, awkward moment. Vern continued to snick his seat belt, and Harry growled irritably, but he'd been doing that so much they ignored him.

Pete changed the subject to distract them from the growing tension. “I didn't know you could do that with lavender and parsley. Convince people to do things they wouldn't normally do.”

“
We
can't. June can.” Annette patted her husband on the shoulder. “I wonder if it's connected to her being an alpha? She's always been stronger than the rest of us.”

Vern's seat belt rat-a-tat halted. “Not stronger than me.”

“I didn't force them to do it. They were willing to take the risk.”

“Sure they were.” He laughed. “They thought you were crazy when you suggested it. You mind whammied them into submission.”

June shook her head. “I gave them the confidence it would work and lowered everyone's resistance to change. Bianca told me a willing heart helps a ceremony succeed.”

“That's touchy-feely B.S. I have a theory.”

“About what I did?” June asked sharply. Usually she took Vern's competitiveness in stride, but right now she wanted to lavender and parsley
him.
Unlike the mountain laurel she'd used on Gavin, the confidence spell hadn't rebounded, which indicated it wasn't harmful.

“No, about you in general.” Vern leaned on the seatback between June and Harry. “If you're strong because you're alpha, I bet the alpha gene makes you resistant. How can I find out if I'm an alpha?”

“Great,” Annette grumbled. “Casanova thinks he's going to get himself a shifter girlfriend.”

“You live as long as I have,” he said, “you'll try anything once.”

Harry sniffed Vern in the head and sneezed.

“Bark three times if I'm da man,” Vern said to him. “Do you think Bianca and Susan would be interested in a hottie sandwich?”

Harry snapped at Vern, and the witch slung himself back into his seat. “Does he bite?”

“Yes,” June said.

“Does he have rabies?”

“Vernon, would you act your age?” Annette snapped. “You're worse than a teenager fighting the change.”

They finally reached the main road in Cranberry Jetty. The other coven members had departed before them, so they were the only ones on the highway at this hour. They would all go home for some much-needed sleep except for Pete, who had to conclude the investigation into Sandie's disappearance before his comrades on the force discovered anything revealing. June would stay hidden until she could muster the strength for her Sandie disguise.

Unless she didn't need it anymore. She was considering sending Sandie to a retirement community in Florida—a time-honored choice for coven members ready to be young again—and starting her second pass-through as June Travis, Sandie's granddaughter.

And girlfriend of local mechanic Harry Smith.

Assuming he was interested in something that serious. The past several days had been so hectic, there had been no discussion of what would happen when they returned to their real lives.

A knot formed in her stomach. Harry might not be interested. She'd never known him to date anybody longer than a couple months. As if sensing her worries, he snuffled her neck, his whiskers tickling her skin.

Pete swiveled in his seat, his arm around the headrest. “The thing with Gavin isn't going to cause a pack war, is it? The ugliness that went down in the 1970s is not something I'd care to repeat.”

The covens did what they could to neutralize violence in their home territories; the worst incidents had been in urban areas as shifters adjusted to modern society and cramped quarters. Packs had become so thick on the ground up north that territories overlapped—part of the inevitable modernization of shifter social structure. So were a rise in the number of indies and a rise in the number of covens who interacted with indies, along with the complications that created.

“I don't see why they'd go to war over this,” June said. “Gavin challenged. He lost. It's a risk any candidate takes. There's more danger in how the packs will react to the fact Millington's anchors are both female.”

“Millington has two mommies,” Vern said with a snicker. “You think they'd have figured it out already. Eh, they're sexist bastards, the lot of them.”

What June had suggested wasn't radical—for witches. The shifter community had only just begun to consider that alphas didn't have to be married. They had to be savvy leaders and sound foundations for the pack's bonding magic. Two male or female alphas was as logical as a male-female combination for that purpose.

“When Harry can vocalize,” she said, “I'm sure he'll shed more light on the subject. Won't it be convenient to have our own trustworthy shifter consultant?”

Harry settled into the seat and laid his head in her lap. She stifled a yawn. The treetops had begun to bleed red with dawn.

“I'm not against Harry keeping some of his memories, necessarily.” Pete braced his hands on the dashboard as the minivan sped into Millington's valley. “The other covens won't like it.”

“They won't like anything that happened here the past several days.” June yawned again, followed by Harry. “Most of all they won't like the fact we seem to have created the first ever coven alpha.”

Since a pack bond was magical, the coven had used the pack's herbs to augment the linking spell on themselves, funneling their energies into Harry to sustain him through the confrontation. It was based partly on their group work when they pre-charged spell components and partly on the pack's ritual.

And it was wholly experimental, hence the unexpected results.

“We think it will wear off,” Pete said gruffly. “Nobody realized the depth of Harry's connection to us until yesterday. But it did give us the idea for the spell.”

“The way indies flock to covens, I'm surprised this has never come up,” June said. Witches had always known indies were drawn to them because of the shifter desire for a network, but had never experimented with the relationship beyond how to avoid the sex.

At least, none of the covens had publicized any experiments.

“He wasn't functionally our anchor until the spell,” Annette said. “The coven voted in favor of it, knowing there could be consequences. You're not the only one who's fond of Harry.”

“All the more reason for him to retain his memories. If he keeps the power, do you really want him to forget what we are and what he can do?” June patted his side, her fingers twined in his fur. “He'll realize something is up immediately. His strength and senses are enhanced, and he'll have undue influence over others. Including us.”

He'd have more influence over her too, but she no longer cared. He wouldn't hurt her or push her. Not if he knew the truth.

“If he's here to stay, packs need two alphas to balance that undue influence,” Vern said. “I should be the other one.”

“Goddess save us,” Annette muttered. Bars of glaring sunlight slanted across the blacktop as they reached Millington. She slowed the minivan when they approached the turnoff for Harry's driveway.

Harry hopped up and barked in Annette's ear.

She flinched, jerking the vehicle halfway off the road. “If you would change your hairy butt back, we wouldn't have communication issues. We don't care if you're naked.”

Vern coughed in the back of the van. “Speak for yourself.”

“I think…” June's cheeks heated. “I think he wants to come home with me.”

Harry sat back and panted.

“I suppose he can't let himself into his house.” Pete cracked his window. “How long will he be in wolf form?”

“I'm not sure.” If being form stuck was like being drained of magic, it could be as long as a day.

Vern snickered. “He needs a doggie door.”

Harry growled. June patted him and wished they could drop Vern off somewhere. When a witch put on a young face after decades in an old one, sometimes they got to feeling their oats.

Again.

She certainly felt liberated in her natural face, one of the reasons she'd like to keep it. Fewer daily spells. More…fun. She wouldn't start at eighteen, like Vern, but witches could begin and end their pass-throughs wherever it was logistically convenient for them and the fake identifications the coven in D.C. fashioned.

“That's not why he's going to June's house.” Annette met her gaze in the mirror with a thoughtful expression. “Is this a good idea, Junie?”

Annette might mean, if the coven planned to erase Harry's memories, spending more time with him would only increase June's heartbreak. And she might be concerned about something else. Well, Harry already knew about witch genetics, and June was pretty sure she and Harry had had enough sex to certify her resistance.

“Is there a rule against it?” She wouldn't be so crass as to mention details, but they were all adults here.

“We're breaking so many other rules, it hardly matters,” Annette said with a sigh.

“There's no rule against it.” Pete waved to the cop car parked on the corner in town. “There's no rule against it in other circumstances, either. It's just not recommended.”

At June's house, June and Harry hopped out of the vehicle. He padded onto the porch and waited by the screen door, but she stayed behind to lean in Annette's window.

Witches didn't have to belong to covens, the same as shifters didn't have to belong to packs. It was just that most preferred it. Since it wasn't as deep a commitment as being in a pack, coven membership was easier to try on for size.

The Millington coven was perfectly June's size, but if they erased Harry's memories, she wouldn't be able to handle being near him, unable to love him. Any future intimate relationship between them would never work because he'd sense her genetics, starting the cycle all over again. There was simply no precedent for a witch-and-werewolf relationship that didn't involve the witch turning tail. Literally.

Like Millington's double-female alphas, she wanted to set a new precedent with Harry.

“I want you to know,” she said, “if you decide to erase him, I'm leaving.”

Annette's face crumpled. “You would leave us for him?”

“I would.” If June could act before the coven did, she'd ask him to come with her, but a life on the run was nowhere near as appealing as a life in Millington with Harry. “He's not a risk. He'll never join a pack, so the compulsion of a pack bond is a nonissue.”

Pete leaned across Annette to speak. “Nothing is decided.”

June had as much of a vote as anyone in her coven, but she was one voice. The rest might not go for the Harry experiment, no matter his accidental status as their alpha. “I just thought I should warn you.”

“You're blackmailing us,” Annette said in a testy voice. “Your strength is half the reason we've been able to specialize in pre-charged components. Before you we had nothing going for us but ginseng.”

June shrugged. Coven specialization wasn't her concern right now. “Will you let me know when the board is going to meet so we can argue our case?”

“There's no reason to postpone. Everyone knows what's going on,” Pete said. “Let's set the table for later today. Five-fifteen at the tea room?”

“I'll be there.”

It would have to do. Now she needed to prepare a speech for the coven meeting that would knock everyone's conventional socks off.

If the Millington pack could buck tradition, so could its coven.

A large weight bounced on the end of June's bed, waking her from the light slumber she'd fallen into after a bleary trip to the restroom. Aches and pains had stiffened her limbs during her rest. The bright blast of light when she opened her eyes stabbed her in the brain. She threw the blankets over her head and groaned.

“Harry,” she warned, “I told you I draw the line at a wolf in the bed.”

“That's too bad.” The weight shifted above her, pinning her under the blankets. “Have I mentioned your couch sucks?”