Promise the Moon (Lorimar Pack Book 1) Page 7

  Muscles in her throat worked under my hand. I trapped the whine before it broke free of her lips.

  “You will never be alpha here. You will never be beta, because I know what you think of Cam and of Graeson, and I’ll kill you before you get the chance to so much as sniff at them wrong.” I clenched my hand. “Do. You. Understand?”

  A small jerk of her head was all the range of motion left to her, and I took it in the spirit it was offered.

  I liked to think I wasn’t a hard-ass. I liked to think I was a good beta. But the bottom line was I could only afford to be as kind to any one pack member as they allowed. Push the wolf, and you get the fangs.

  “I’ll be at the office if anyone needs me.” I stood and dusted my hands. “Thanks again for the loan. I’ll drop the key by your place.”

  “No problem.” Nathalie wagged her tail once. “I appreciate it.”

  Scuffling broke out behind me, Nathalie chastising Aisha. Again. To preserve my sanity, I crunched my way to the iron-banded front door. The shadow of the frame struck me as wrong, and when I reached for the knob, the brush of my fingers nudged the door open.

  My first thought was maybe it hadn’t caught when I shut it earlier, after the meeting. My second thought was, before the O’Malleys proved trespassing on Lorimar property was a cakewalk, I wouldn’t have hesitated at the door. I would have barreled through, certain of our security measures. But the O’Malleys had ripped the veil from my eyes, and just because our first two fae visitors had been friendly didn’t mean the third time was the charm.

  I eased into the dim entryway, drawn toward the slash of illumination spilling from underneath a closed door. I gravitated toward it, about to grip the knob, when the door swung inward and the blazing lights inside blinded me after having been in the dark.

  “Hey.” Enzo’s outline solidified into a shape more easily recognized. “You’re here late.”

  Blinking the image superimposed over my retinas away, I clutched the doorframe and resisted the urge to snap at him. “I heard Cam left me a message.” I trailed my fingers along the wall in an attempt to reach Cord’s office. “I needed to call her anyway.”

  “Whoa. Careful there. Let me help.” A firm hand closed over my elbow, and Enzo guided me in the general direction I had been heading. “Sorry about that. I heard voices and was on my way to investigate. I didn’t expect to run into anyone in the building.”

  “No problem.” I tugged a key ring from my pocket and fumbled the right one into the lock, admitting myself into Cord’s office. “I’ve got it now, but thanks for the assist.”

  “You sure?”

  I plopped down in Cord’s oversized chair and spun in a circle—just because—before jabbing the message button on the answering machine. While the robotic voice gave its spiel, I flicked my fingers toward him. “I don’t want to be rude, but I’m not sure what Cam wanted. I should probably hear this in private.”

  “Oh.” A note of hurt beat in his voice. “Sure. Tell her I said hi.”

  “I will.”

  I had another moment of droning technology to deal with before Cam’s voice came on the line. “Hey, guys, I hope everyone is doing well. I need to speak with Dell. Have her call me at her earliest convenience, please.”

  The muscles knotted in my spine uncoiled like I had tossed back a bottle of muscle relaxers, and that was before my nose reminded me I had hidden cupcakes to munch. Such was the power of great alphas over their subjects. Almost lightheaded, I slumped in the chair and dialed her cell number from memory.

  The voice that answered was all business. “Ellis.”

  “Hey, Cam.” I shut my eyes. “It’s me, Dell.”

  “You sound tired. The sentries didn’t wake you, did they?”

  I was tired. “Long night, that’s all.”

  Her tone said she didn’t believe me for a second. “If we need to come back—”

  “No.” Eyes popping open, I sat upright. “I’ve got this.”

  A sigh gusted over the line. “That’s why I’m calling. The Gathering has been extended for another week. Can you last that long, or should we decline?”

  “Another week?” I thumped my head against the back of Cord’s fancy chair. “No problem.”

  “Dell…”

  “Oh, I almost forgot. Enzo says hi.”

  The change in topic threw her a second too long, and when she answered, she didn’t sound thrilled. “How’s that going?”

  “Honestly? I’m not sure. He just got here.”

  “He’s not bothering you, is he?” Her protective instincts brought a growl to her voice. “Thierry liked the idea of using someone already familiar with wargs since the magic must be responsive to the pack, but there are other witches.”

  “We talked,” I assured her. “I shot him down, but he crash-landed without injury.”

  “He’s only there as long as you’re comfortable with it, got it?”

  “Yes, boss.” A genuine smile split my cheeks. “I miss you guys.”

  “We miss you too.” Her voice softened. “All of you.”

  “Hey, now. I thought I was your favorite,” I teased. “I thought what we had was real.”

  Cam’s laughter used to be as rare as hen’s teeth, and I prided myself on each chuckle I earned.

  Hating to turn the conversation serious again, I had to ask, “How are things at the Gathering?”

  “As chaotic as you’d expect. None of the fae magistrates can agree on a course of action. They’re depending on King Rook’s influence to keep the fae confined to Faerie. Basically attempting to wash their hands of the problem by considering this a territorial dispute where he is in the wrong and therefore is responsible for maintaining the peace.” She scoffed. “The Seelie are siding with the Seelie, and the Unseelie with the Unseelie. The native supernatural delegations are backing each other against the fae. The one topic they all agree on is that our pack is an abomination thanks to Cord and me mating.”

  “That sounds bad.” I flinched at the harsh words. “What’s being done in the meantime?”

  “Until the representatives are all in agreement, Lorimar stands alone.” Weariness crept into her voice. “Right now the only ally we’ve got with enough power to enact change is Thierry, and she’s…”

  “Damn scary?” I supplied.

  She snorted out a laugh. “Yes. That.”

  “I do have some bad news.” I flipped open the lid on the pastry box with my fingertips. “Tim O’Malley is missing.”

  “Is it a local issue?” Her voice took on a professional edge. “Or is a deserter to blame?”

  “A deserter?” I echoed.

  “That’s what the conclave’s calling the fae ditching Faerie for greener pastures.”

  “In that case, I don’t know. There’s a problem.” I explained to her about my experience with the parking lot and Mrs. O’s general confusion. “All I can figure is something’s there someone doesn’t want us to see. Maybe they’re hiding it under one of those glamour things.”

  Once I saw an entire mental health institution hidden beneath an illusion that made it appear to be a cow pasture, complete with patties. If fae could do that, warping a parking lot ought to be child’s play.

  “Hmm.” A door opened and shut in the background. “It’s possible. Most locational glamours come with a subtle push that nudges people away without them being aware the magic is herding them. It’s like hosing an area with cooking spray. Your gaze slides right off whatever the person casting the glamour wants to hide. Some of the more complex ones use that as a window to sort of nibble at your memory of being there until you don’t recollect the incident at all. Power like that cuts clean. You’re left with no gaps in memory, a general awareness of where you’ve been, but the edges are muddled enough you can’t recall details.”

  I snagged a cupcake and peeled the wrapper down one side. “So how do you see through it? Or break it?”

  “Some fae, like me, aren’t fooled by illusion. So optio
n one is getting a similar fae to be your eyes for you.” Footsteps clicked, echoing over the line. “The second option is asking Enzo for help. If he feels that it falls under what he’s been contracted to do, he may help without putting it on your tab. Otherwise…”

  I bit into my snack, barely tasting the spongy cake or whipped icing. “He charges me out the wazoo. Gotcha.”

  Witches never worked for free, and they didn’t always charge cash for their services. The bigger the magic, the larger the cost and the dearer its price.

  Enzo did me a favor once, shared information to help Cam on a case, saying it was a freebie. One thing life had taught me was nothing was free. Tendrils of debt slithered between him and me, tickling my ankles, waiting to snatch me and drag me off to debtor’s prison. Or maybe I was paranoid, and he had done it out of the goodness of his heart. Paranoid or not, I doubted I had heard the last on the topic.

  “The area is also experiencing some peculiar weather patterns. The worst of it seems isolated over the town.” I mentioned it as an idea percolated. “Could the rift be to blame?”

  She wasted no time saying, “We don’t know what effect an open portal will have on our atmosphere long term.”

  “True.” Though the storms’ taste for Main Street versus the closer forested areas made a case against the rift itself being at fault. Right now, we just didn’t have enough data to make an informed decision. “I’ll keep an ear to the ground and update you if the situation escalates.”

  “How’s Aisha?” The earnest question was followed up by a hesitant one. “Is she behaving?”

  Not really, no. “Nathalie has her under control.” A low growl rumbled in the background, and I wrinkled my nose. “Is that Cord?”

  Rustling noises carried to me, throaty whispers and soft sighs that made me twitchy.

  “Hey, Dell. You’re up late.” Cord’s gravelly voice punched me in the gut. As much as I missed Cam, I missed him more. My wolf and I always felt safest when he was within running distance. “Cam needs her rest before we reconvene tomorrow. Can we pick this up during our lunch break tomorrow?”

  “No problem.” My vision went glassy. “It can wait until then.”

  “Dell,” a warning entered his tone. “What’s up?”

  I palmed a second cupcake, almost managing to fit it into my mouth whole. “Nuffin,” I mumbled, pulling wrapper from between my teeth.

  “I heard Cam mention Aisha and thought you two were catching up. Was I wrong? Is this serious?” Concern peppered his tone. “If you need to talk to Cam—or to me—we’re right here. Anytime you need us, we’re here. Understand?”

  “It’s fine. I’m fine.” Hot tears spilled over my cheeks. “You’re right. It’s late. You should put Cam to bed.”

  “That proves it,” he said with finality. “You’re not fine.”

  I hesitated with my hand over a third cupcake. “What proves it?”

  “You told me to put Cam to bed with a straight face. No dirty jokes, no threats to join us. Nothing.”

  “You can’t see my face.” Thank God for it too. All I needed was for him to see his beta crying like a pup who missed her parents. “Besides, maybe I’m maturing in your absence. Maybe you were the bad influence on me. Maybe—”

  “—you’re full of hot air?” His rusty chuckles made me grin, but they tapered to silence too quickly. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you? We could put you on speakerphone.”

  Speakerphone, because they were so far away the pack bond couldn’t reach them. That alone was enough to send my wolf into a shallow mourning.

  “I have nine more lemon meringue cupcakes, and I will soon have a pot of coffee. There’s nothing you can do for me that sugar and caffeine can’t accomplish.”

  “Cam says you’re drinking too much coffee and that’s why you’re up so late.”

  I held the phone away from my face and stuck out my tongue at the receiver. “Cam is not the boss of me.”

  “She kind of is,” he disagreed. “Her being alpha…”

  “Okay, point taken.” I toyed with a third cupcake while faking a loud yawn. “I’m going to go now. You kids don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Seconds passed before his sigh blasted the receiver. “Night, Dell. Call us if you need us. That’s an order.”

  “Since you can’t see me, I’ll just go ahead and tell you I’m mock saluting you right now.” I jabbed my finger into the icing and scooped up a mound of sugar.

  “You’re a horrible liar.” He snorted. “I bet you five dollars you’ve got the phone in one hand and a cupcake in the other.”

  “You, sir, owe me a fiver.” I stuck the glob of icing in my mouth. “I wasn’t holding the cupcake. Just looking at it.” With my finger.

  “Sweet dreams, Dell.”

  “Night, Cord.”

  I ended the call with a smile on my face and five dollars poorer. The tightness in my chest had eased, and thanks to the sugar rush, I had enough energy to reach home before face-planting. I closed the pastry box and wiped the crumbs off the desk blotter. I spun once more in the chair, which I regretted after having crammed so many cupcakes down my piehole in such a short time, and let myself out of the office before locking it behind me.

  The light under Enzo’s door was out, or I would have made nice before leaving. I secured the building, sparing a glance across the parking lot, and spotted Enzo behind the wheel of his car, talking on his cell. I lifted a hand to mirror the one he raised at me, then headed for my RV and the sweet dreams Cord had wished me.

  Chapter 7

  Funny how all the issues that can’t wait to be resolved while I’m off can keep when I’m back at work. No one intercepted me with a question, a request or an incident while I brewed and filled a thermos with coffee, strapped on my tool belt and meandered toward the project site of the day.

  Still blissed out from chatting with the alphas, I pretended the perfect silence meant they had blown off the Gathering, told the conclave to kiss their furry buns, and decided to come home early, relegating me to my preferred role of second fiddle.

  The park was a new acquisition, and part of our deal with Dot Cahill included maintaining the property in exchange for a break in the rent. Tallying the cost of lot rent versus the price of the improvements I managed each month had become a game between us. So far, I was winning.

  I had done odd jobs back in Georgia to earn a paycheck and contribute to the pack tithes. Here I was doing the same thing but in a different way.

  Not a single member of our pack had paid one red cent to live here, because I worked off the mortgage payment with sweat equity. That couldn’t last. Eventually I’d run out of bright ideas that Dot viewed as necessary improvements versus unnecessary luxuries. But for now, while so many of us were scraping together our pennies to invest in RVs or camping supplies, it was a blessing to put our money where it got the most mileage.

  Pawpaw had taught me the basics of carpentry long before I enrolled in trade school or landed my first apprenticeship. A man of few words, he helped me build a foundation for my life over the summers I spent with him and Meemaw in Villanow. That persnickety old man taught me self-worth when, up to that point, I had only been shown my value as seen through the eyes of potential mates.

  Under his wing, I learned there was comfort to be found in firm numbers and solid construction. Measuring tapes didn’t lie. Saws whined a warning before they bit. Hammers struck hard but their aim was true. Well, that last part could be said about my momma too.

  She never understood the contentment I derived from a stack of fresh lumber or a box of tools. The birdfeeder I made her, the first project I ever completed, she smashed into splinters in a blind rage over her father teaching me what she considered a man’s trade. I could still recite her lecture word for word. I don’t think I’ll ever forget a syllable of it.

  No male wants a female with man’s hands.

  No male wants a female who dresses the way he does.

 
No male wants a female who comes home with sawdust in her hair.

  When will you have time to cook? To clean? To care for your young?

  Careers are for men. They are our alphas and our providers.

  You were put on this earth for them to use.

  We all were.

  The thirteen-year-old girl I had been made herself fervent promises that day. She would provide for herself, so she didn’t have to depend on anyone for her survival. She would earn rank, so she could say no to anything she didn’t want to do. She would never let a man use her body without her consent, because Momma always cried after. And she would never break. Not her will, and not her heart.

  The woman I was now felt shame at having broken all those promises to myself in the end.

  Lorimar was my chance to climb out of the rut Momma had worked so hard to lower me into before she passed, kicking, screaming and cursing my name on her way out of this world.

  Our numbers were so low right now, and our income stretched so thin, we had to address the lack of resources soon. Job, the pack accountant, and I would have to put our heads together over how to pinch our pennies until they screamed. As much as I hated asking the others to chip in a portion of their earnings, growing a healthy nest egg might save us from counting our chickens before they hatched one day. Not to mention it would allow for some of those luxury items—say a hot tub—that Dot would torpedo off any expense list I submitted. But that was a problem for another day.

  Today’s agenda included erecting the walls of Abram’s new clinic. At the moment, he kept his medical supplies in yet another of the spare rooms at the rental office, but as clashes with the deserters intensified, so did the demand for his own space.