Page 36

Grey

My phone rings. I grab it and leave the room since my mate is sound asleep in my bed. She sleeps on her belly. Nude. Beautiful. And all mine .

“Hello?”

“Hi Grey, it’s Ronnie.”

“Veronica,” I greet my cousin.

“Do you have a minute?”

“I do,” I say.

I’ve got nothing but minutes right now as I wait to hear from Jase and Linc who are looking for Wyatt and Sherry.

I’m wishing about now that I hadn’t let them run off half-cocked like that. I’m wishing I’d had my cousins whip up some of whatever potion allowed Wyatt and his betas to get into our village without us picking up their scents.

If they don’t have luck in the next twelve hours, I might ask Erica if she can help with that.

“When I met Stacy yesterday, I touched her,” Veronica says. “And you know when I touch people or their things… I often get information about them.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say.

“I don’t always want information. And I don’t get all the information, just big things. Traumatic events or big secrets. Things that dominate their personalities.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry to tell you this, but she’s been very badly abused, Grey. Badly.”

“What does badly mean?”

“We have to find a way to stop them. I don’t know how much Stacy has shared about her upbringing, but Greyson, it’s bad. Like… really bad.”

After I end the call, after staring out the window for a while trying to simmer the rage boiling in my blood, my phone rings again.

I don’t recognize the number calling.

“Hello?” I answer.

Nothing.

I repeat, “Hello?”

A female clears her throat. “Greyson Blackwood?”

“Yeah. Who’s this?”

“I… I’m Soleil Young. I… wonder if we could meet. And if you agree, I would just please ask… not that you owe me anything… but I would ask that you keep it just between us for now.”

“Why?” I ask, feeling no emotional attachment to the voice on the other end of the phone, which strikes me as odd.

In fact, my gut has gone stone cold.

“There’s bad blood with me and some important people in your life, people I’m not looking to connect with at the moment. I’m interested in a connection with you, so I thought we could just keep things between us if there’s any chance we can become… acquainted. For now, at least.”

“I wasn’t asking why you wanted it between us. I want to know why you want to meet. Why you want to know me?”

“I… you’re my son.”

“Hasn’t seemed to bother you in more than three decades. Why now?”

“Well…” She pauses and I don’t know if she doesn’t know what to say or if she’s doing it for effect. “They suppressed my ability to practice my magic, but I feel like things have recently changed for you. I’ve been… apprehensive about reaching out, what you might think of a mother who was cast out of not just her marriage, but also her coven. I know I have a lot to answer for. But I can’t shake these visions that have come frequently as of late. I can’t shake the feeling that you might need me.”

“My father mated again after you.”

“I know,” she says firmly.

“Gave me a new mother. She’s here for me every day, every time I need a mother.”

“I’m glad,” she says. “It hurt to imagine you growing up without that.”

“Any of this have to do with me coming into a fuck ton of power lately?”

The line is quiet for a beat before she says, without an ounce of timidness, “Well, your new mother is human, isn’t she? She can’t help guide you with your magic.”

I immediately reply with, “Aunt Mimi can, can’t she? I’ve also got Vivica, Ronnie, Jessica, Dani, and Erica.”

“My brother’s girls. Yes, I know of them. I would also be happy to share any insight I can. I would hate for you to wind up like I did.”

I flinch. And goosebumps rise on my arms and the back of my neck when she adds, “Dark magic is like a lover that tempts and beckons, Greyson. It whispers your heart’s desires to you. Unfortunately, I fell prey to that and … you do have my genetics.”

“I’ve also got my father’s genetics and he’s a pretty fuckin’ stand-up guy.”

“That, he is,” she replies softly.

“Has the dark magic stopped whispering to you?” I ask.

It’s a moment before she answers, her voice changing to something I don’t know how to discern.

“My magic is gone, so the whispers I hear now are the bitter regrets I have. The dreams keep on, mostly of the girl I once was, the one desperate to be a mother, to have a family. The visions come occasionally – of you, of your life. I let the dark whispers take that from me. I wasn’t strong enough. I have many regrets, most of all not knowing you. Not being there when you might need me. I grew up without my mother and I hated that I had to let you do the same.”

“I didn’t. Carrie is my mother. Listen, I don’t have any available bandwidth right now,” I state.

“Oh,” she breathes.

“I’m not saying no,” I advise.

“Okay?”

“A lot going on right now for me. I’m also not promising to keep the fact you contacted me a secret. That doesn’t sit right with me.”

“I see. I have no right to ask anything of you.”

“We nearly just lost Aunt Mimi. I only recently met her and I already can’t imagine the pain of that loss. Since she’s someone you know a lot better than I do, I imagine you’d feel the same.”

“Of course,” she whispers. “She’s my mother’s twin. I’m told they were like a two-headed coin. Almost exactly the same. There’s been a lot of loss in my life, the greatest loss being you.”

I frown.

“I’m not ready to face Aunt Mimi,” she adds quickly. “It’d be me looking at my mother’s face and if there’s disappointment, it’ll hurt. If there’s not, it could feel like a lie.”

“I see,” I say evenly, but internally I’m feeling skeptical.

“Can I call again sometime? See if you’re open to a conversation? A meeting, perhaps?”

“Looking at my face will be like looking at my father’s. Though I’m told I have your eyes.”

“Your eyes often changed when you were an infant, switching between your father’s and mine. It’ll hurt to look into your eyes and see who I could have been, what I could have kept, who I could have been to you, but not seeing you, not knowing you? I live that every day and that… that hurts more.”

I don’t bother to tell her that since that witch circle, my eyes have stopped changing, that they now look like hers always. Just lighter or darker silver depending on what’s happening. Am I at risk of vacillating between my mother’s and father’s traits? No, I don’t buy it. I’m me. I’m an individual.

“No promises,” I say. “If you change your mind about Mimi I think she’d be open. She offered to find you for me.”

“Oh,” she says, and the line is quiet for a moment before she finishes with, “Be well, Greyson. You can reach me at this number day or night. Please don’t hesitate to call me. For any reason.”

“Right.”

“I might not have practiced magic since you were a baby, but I have a lot of experience that could help you navigate uncharted waters.”

“Appreciate the offer,” I say noncommittally.

“Bye Greyson. For now?”

“Bye.”

I end the call and quickly read a text from Joel before I stare out the window of the home office at the far end of the hall on my top floor for a few long moments, processing the conversation, but when I hear footsteps I know Luke’s on the move. I walk to the kitchen and see him staring into the fridge.

He jerks back in surprise, shuts the door, and averts his gaze, embarrassed.

“Mornin’,” I greet.

“M-morning. Sorry, sir. I… is it okay if I have some more milk?”

He’s scrawny. In both forms. Whether it’s just that he’s a late bloomer or what, I don’t know, but suspect it’s more about the bullshit rules about shifting under Meadows’ regime. Alpha, beta, or omega… shifting is a pivotal part of adolescence. That asshole could be trying to hamper their growth so he’ll have no competition in the future.

“You don’t need to apologize, buddy. Have at it. Eat and drink whatever you want,” I invite, then add, “Except stay out of my liquor.”

The kid’s eyes flit up and he sees the humor on my face, so he grins as he eagerly reaches for the milk, then walks into my pantry and comes back with the box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I pass him a cereal bowl and start to work on a pot of coffee.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Lose the sir. I’m Grey.”

“Thanks, Grey.”

“You can look at me, Luke.”

He slowly lifts his eyes.

“Your folks,” I ask. “They worrying about you?”

He shakes his head. “Got none. He ran off years ago. She’s dead. Why?”

“You got anyone you wanna call and say you’re okay?”

Strangely, Stacy didn’t ask to make any calls last night. This isn’t just concern. It’s also a test with this kid. My instinct is pretty well-honed, but I know Meadows played with potions, so I don’t want to leave anything to chance.

“Anyone worried about you?” I add.

“I…” He thinks for a moment. “Maybe that oughta be left up to Stacy. She’s the closest thing to a mother I got.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask.

“Except maybe Aunt Shea. But Aunt Shea ain’t well and she prolly don’t even know I’m gone.” He shrugs and opens the cereal box. “Stacy’s like a mom to all of us in the pack and she’s still pretty young, too young prolly to hafta be, so I’m glad to see her land in a place like this.”

Stacy comes into the kitchen, freshly showered but with concerned eyes, bouncing between me and her cousin. She’s dressed in denim shorts and a black and yellow tee I recognize as being Bailey’s. Her hair is pulled into a braid that starts at her crown and ends with a small red hair tie. She’s wearing makeup today. I know my sister brought some of that stuff over. Like last night, she wears just a subtle amount of it, but it looks good. She needs more clothes. These clothes hold a hint of my sister’s scent despite smelling mostly like laundry detergent.

She comes straight to me and I wrap both arms around her and kiss her throat. “Mornin’, Blossom. You look fresh and pretty.”

“Hey,” she whispers and kisses my jaw softly, putting her arms around my middle. “Thanks.”

Despite that I can see and feel concern, my woman’s gaze on my face is pure love. She looks to the side at her cousin.

“Mornin’ Lukey. How’d you sleep?” she asks.

Luke has a mouthful of cereal. He gives her a thumbs up and shoves another spoonful in before even swallowing what’s in his mouth.

“Coffee?” I offer.

“Yes, please,” she says. “You want me to make some breakfast?”

“Cereal’s good for today,” I say. “The Silver Hills beta that survived last night is asking to talk to you. I’m gonna go down there and find out who it is and what he’s got to say.”

“Oh,” she says, and she looks tweaked.

Joel says both Cade and Sean tried to get him talking last night and he said he’d only speak to Stacy.

She looks at Luke and it looks like she might be about to ask him a question, but I see and feel that she’s torn about something.

“Coffee, Luke?” I finally offer after a long silence where Stacy continues with her inner battle.

He shakes his head. “No thanks.”

She looks at Luke and twists her mouth as her eyes hit the box of cereal, wrinkling her nose like he’s eating a pile of steaming shit.

I say, “Unless you feel like something more substantial, then have at it.”

Her eyes light up and she moves to the kid and puts her hand on his head and ruffles his mop of blond hair. “Guess what, Lukey? Grey has a waffle maker. How about waffles with fruit?”

Luke perks up, then his shoulders slump.

“But I already have this,” he says with his mouth full, face disappointed.

“You’re a growin’ boy,” I put in. “If you can fit waffles in your belly, too, why wouldn’t you?”

He swallows down what’s in his mouth and smiles big. “I could definitely fit some waffles in this belly.”

She looks at me again, love shimmering in her eyes, then asks, “Any news?”

“Jase and Linc probably won’t be there yet, but I suspect I’ll hear something soon.”

***

My sister shows up ten minutes later and I’m not sure what her agenda is at first and don’t think too long on it because she’s always the first to nose around when something’s happening, though it’s not just to be nosy, also to help wherever she can.

When we sit down to eat, Luke is looking at Bailey with stars in his eyes. Mostly his eyes are pointed at her rack, until he catches me watching him do it and his face goes red as I give him a look.

Bailey is being chatty with Luke and with Stacy, but something is off with her too this morning and I know my sister well enough to know with how she’s acting, there’s method to her madness. She’s fidgety. She’s already asked me half a dozen questions that I don’t have the answers to about how long Linc and Jase will be gone, what they’ll be doing while they’re there.

“We’re getting the lay of the land, then we’ll make a decision,” I say. “Our buddy hasn’t had much to report as the place has been locked down and we suspect they got his drone, but now we know from Luke that these guys left before he got there.”

Luke speaks up. “If we saw a drone we’d shoot it down.”

As I suspected. I’m sure we’d do the same.

Bailey is quiet for long enough to chew one bite of her breakfast before she turns to my mate and starts on a new train of questioning.

How many females are in Stacy’s old pack? How many around Stacy and Bailey’s age? And now I know what her angle is. This is beyond her typical need to know everything. I pretend not to notice what her true angle is. For now.

***

After wiping the counter, I toss the cloth in the sink. Stacy and Luke are loading the dishwasher and Bailey is putting the leftovers into the fridge.

“Hey Luke, you want, you can go down to the basement and play my game system.”

The kid’s eyes light up but then his shoulders slump. “That’s okay, sir. I mean Grey.”

I frown. “No?”

“Don’t know how,” he mutters.

What sixteen-year-old kid in this day and age doesn’t know how to play video games? Some shifter packs are less integrated with mainstream society than others, but not around these parts, also not around where the Silver Hills pack is located. It’s only half an hour from two different towns, less than an hour from a major city. He shouldn’t be this sheltered.

“C’mon. I’ll show you,” I offer.

He passes Stacy the last dirty plate and follows me.

Though I’m tempted to ask more questions, I should be asking Stacy instead. This kid has had enough questioning since he got here.

***

Stacy and Bailey are at the kitchen island with teacups when I come back upstairs. I gesture with my head for my sister to follow me out of the room.

“One sec, babe,” I say to Stacy’s questioning gaze.

“What’s the matter?” I ask my sister once we’re down a level by the garage.

She looks at me like she hasn’t got a clue what I’m talking about.

“Bailey,” I press.

“What?” Her poker face is completely red now.

“You’re riled about Jase being gone to Silver Hills.”

She folds her arms and squints at me. If I wasn’t already sure, I would be now as this body language is one of Bailey’s tells.

“You’re afraid he’s gonna find his mate out of town.”

She jerks back and can’t hide that I’ve hit the nail on the head. The look of agony isn’t easy to see on my little sister’s face.

I give her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Whatever’s gonna be is gonna be. Fate has lined up the dominos for Jase and they’ll fall when they’re supposed to.”

I’ve seen that Bailey has had stars in her eyes for Jase since she was a little girl. I’m pretty immune to it at this point, generally ignore it, but don’t like that it hasn’t simmered. She regularly makes little comments about being single and never having been kissed, which as her older brother is something that didn’t bother me when she was a teenager, but she’s got blinders on. Plenty of guys her age in the pack have shown interest in her and she doesn’t compute. I’ve seen it time and time again. She cluelessly misses any and all cues they put out. Because she’s only got eyes for Jason Creed.

“We are so not having this conversation,” she tells me, looking away.

There’s a knock on the door and I smell that it’s Joel right as Bailey advises, “Joel” as if I don’t know the scent myself.

She haughtily marches back to the kitchen.