Wild Wolf
Page 28

Kyle and Matt didn’t have to be told to hurry. They were already halfway through their meal. All the pizza last night obviously hadn’t filled them.
“Well, eat something at home then,” Misty said. “And drink.” Just because Graham couldn’t control the thirst didn’t mean he didn’t need water.
“Will you let me worry about that?” he snapped. “You stay home. There’s a crazy Fae running loose, and he might get pissed off because you broke his spell. I’m sending over reinforcements.”
“I can’t stay home,” Misty said, watching Kyle and Matt shovel in the rest of the eggs and tortilla chips. “I have to talk to my insurance agent, make sure they receive the police report, call people about getting my store repaired, postpone incoming deliveries, and apologize to all my customers for having to cancel their orders. I’ll be busy.”
“Then you wait for my reinforcements.” Graham shoved aside the coffee and thrust himself to his feet. “Come on, you two.”
Matt and Kyle abandoned their places and licked-clean plates to barrel toward Misty. “Good-bye, Aunt Misty!” The two little boys hugged her legs, two eager faces turned up to her. Misty leaned down and hugged them back, kissing their foreheads. They gave her sticky kisses in return then broke away from her.
“Bye, Xav!” Another enthusiastic leg hug, and then they were out the door, heading for the small truck Graham had driven over.
Misty’s broken front door had been temporarily repaired with a piece of board nailed over the torn part, plus it was guarded by another muscled man in a black T-shirt and black camouflage pants.
“Graham,” Misty called as Graham strode out the door without another word. She caught up to him in the driveway, as the cubs climbed enthusiastically into the pickup. “Wait a minute.”
Graham swung to her. She expected him to give her hell again about wanting to talk, but he said nothing, only waited.
Today he looked less human than ever—a wild animal posing as a human being. His light gray eyes were hard with anger and pain, his short hair mussed, and the scars on his tanned face and arms were stark white. He was battling thirst and need for sleep, and losing.
“You should stay here,” Misty said. “You need to rest. Maybe Reid can find another way to break the spell . . .”
Graham’s words cut over hers. “No. Until this is over, I’m staying far away from you. Stick with Xav and the Shifters I send over, but keep away from me.”
Misty took a step forward. Her body hummed from his pleasuring of her last night, from the way he’d held her when they’d finished, her half-naked body folded into his. Graham hadn’t forgotten that, his look told her, and he wasn’t angry at her. He was scared.
“Graham . . .”
Graham raised his hands. “Stay. Away.” He moved his hands as though physically shoving her back, and then he turned around, got into the truck, and slammed its door.
Without looking at her, Graham started up the truck, backed out of her driveway, and roared off. The cubs waved out the window, then the truck turned a corner and was gone, leaving Misty alone with the warming morning and the stench of exhaust.
 • • •
"Warden,” Graham said, walking into the Shiftertown leader’s house. “We need to talk about the Collars.”
Graham hadn’t been invited in, and Eric’s sister and his son, Jace, were in front of him before the screen door slammed, the soft snarls in their throats threatening mayhem.
“Good going, McNeil,” Eric said from where he lounged on the couch. He was in T-shirt and jeans, his bare feet propped on the coffee table. “Why don’t you charge into an alpha’s territory and start giving him commands? That’s the way to get your balls torn off.”
Graham watched Cassidy and Jace, who continued to block his way, their eyes, so like Eric’s, fixed on him with near-feral anger. Diego had come out of the kitchen, and now he paused in its doorway, also watching Graham. He was probably armed, like his brother, and Diego had less of a sense of humor than Xav.
“We don’t have time for this shit,” Graham said. “We need to get the Collars off the Shifters. All Shifters. Right now.”
Eric finally looked startled, though the only sign he made was his Feline eyes widening a little. “And you know why we can’t rush.”
“Things have changed. Collars need to come off. Now.”
“He’s not wrong,” Stuart Reid said from the other side of the screen door. Unlike Graham, he was savvy enough to wait outside until the alpha Shifter invited him in. “Or things are going to get bad for all Shifters, everywhere.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Did Warden leap up, grab his son—who’d just spent a painful time learning about how Collars came off—and start running around Shiftertown doing it? No, he sat there contemplating Graham with his jade-colored eyes, and clasped his hands behind his head.
“You two want to tell me what you’re talking about?” Eric asked.
“You want to call off your posse?” Graham growled, baring his wolf’s teeth at Jace and Cassidy. “If I wanted you dead, I’d have attacked you and not let them stop me. Where’s your mate?” he added, realizing he neither saw nor scented Iona.
“Busy.” Meaning Eric wasn’t about to tell Graham. “Reid, get in here and close the door. It’s hot.”
Reid obeyed. Showed how seriously he took this, because Reid usually gave Shifters who told him what to do a f**k-off glare. Now Reid only walked inside and shut the solid door, closing out the morning heat.
“All right, you have my attention,” Eric said. “Talk.”
Graham drew a breath. The last person he wanted to tell he was weakened was Warden, but the risk went beyond him now. Being alpha, and leader, didn’t only mean Graham could best all other Shifters. It meant he took good care of those he bested.
“I think we’re all screwed,” Graham said. “Because of the Collars. What I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room, all right?”
He launched into the story of what had happened out in the desert, including him drinking the Fae water, the dream he’d shared with Misty, the way they’d tried to counteract the spell, and his dream alone with Oison. He left out the more intimate moments he and Misty had shared in her backyard after the spell had left her—some things were none of their frigging business.