chapter Thirteen
“Am I crazy, Dad?”
Her father grimaced and dropped a dollop of whipped cream on top of her slice of apple pie. “You’re not crazy. You’re going through some stuff, and you’ve got to find your feet again, that’s all. If you start listening to Ginny Burke—that’s when I’ll know you’ve lost your marbles, kiddo.”
“If you say so.” It was her second slice of apple pie—and if being able to metabolize it quickly wasn’t a fringe benefit of being a werewolf, she didn’t know what was—but she thought her father’s approval had done more to soothe her doubts than his baking. “She’s right about one thing, though. I can’t keep the house without a job unless I dip into my savings, and I don’t want to do that if I don’t have to.”
“I can help you out with that,” he assured her.
“No, Dad. You’ve got the diner to worry about already. And you’ve always helped out with taxes on the farm.”
“Well, you have to have someplace to live, Edie.”
She dragged her fork through the whipped cream, leaving little indentions behind. “I was thinking…”
He bent far enough to catch her gaze. “Of what?”
“Moving back to the farm.” She didn’t add with Jay. Not that they’d discussed as much, but after last night she was having a hard time imagining a bed of hers that didn’t have him in it.
Which wasn’t something she planned to admit to her father.
But he only nodded. “Last I checked, Chief Ancheta was spending most of his time out there too.”
Eden avoided his gaze again and cursed herself for blushing. “Most of his time, yeah. Probably less once he has to go back to work.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. “I’m glad, you know. That there’s something going on out there at the farm now that doesn’t have anything to do with bad memories. It’s a good thing, a nice change.”
She thought about the shadows. The whispers and chills, the breezes that tickled the back of the neck and vanished. “Sometimes I still think it’s haunted,” she admitted. “I never really grew out of seeing ghosts out there, I guess.”
Her father gave her a stern look. “It’s not haunted, sweetheart. It’s just…a sad place.”
“I guess.” She took a forkful of pie and let the sweetness distract her from how little she wanted to ask her next question. “Has Zack been talking to you? I barely see him.”
“He’s stopped by a few times.” Austin started wiping the counter. “He talks a little, tells me stories about Lorelei and Mae. Sometimes he wants to talk about the folks who didn’t make it.”
At least he’d been confiding in someone. It eased a pressure in her chest she hadn’t realized was there. “They lost a lot of people. It’ll take some time for everyone to heal, but they’re starting to get there.”
Her father stilled and lowered his voice. “You never said how things went. The full moon?”
She couldn’t describe it in words. Fear melting into joy. Strangers becoming family. “It was good. I’m good.” She put down the fork and reached across the counter to grab his hand. “I’m great. I really am.”
“You promise?”
“Absolutely.”
A slow smile spread over his face, bringing out the deep-set wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear that, Edie.”
Lifting up, she leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I know you’ve worried about me. But I feel like things are falling into place.”
“As long as you’re happy, that’s all I need.” A bit of his smile faded. “You haven’t always felt like you belonged, knowing what you did about Zack and his mother. A whole other world that wasn’t part of everyone else’s. I’m sorry we didn’t handle that better, your mom and me.”
Eden settled back down on her stool. “You did your best. That’s all any of us do. I just wish…”
He tensed. “Wish what?”
He probably already knew. She’d been a child—a scared, awkward child—how well could she have hidden it? But in all the years since, they’d never discussed it. The secret was a splinter, one that had festered for years.
“I wish I’d told you,” she whispered. No one was close enough to hear, but it was easier to say if the words were nothing but soft breath. “Zack made me promise not to tell anyone how bad it was, but I wish I had. Maybe I wouldn’t still wonder if I could have made it better.”
His hands tightened around the towel. “We didn’t know how bad it was. If we had, it wouldn’t have mattered—” He looked up, his gaze clashing with Eden’s. “Your mom and I talked about taking Zack, it must have been a hundred times. There were reasons we didn’t—why we couldn’t—but none of it was ever your fault. Not ever.”
“I know.” She covered her father’s hands with her own. They felt fragile now, old and worn and human, and she had so much more strength at her disposal. “I’m still working on believing it in my gut, but that’s another thing that takes time.”
He stared at her in silence for long moments, not even breathing, and finally sighed. “Time. It’s supposed to heal all.”
Was he thinking of Zack’s childhood, or the more recent loss of her mother? “Does it?”
The last customer of the lunch rush called out a farewell and pushed through the door, leaving them alone. Austin set aside the dishtowel and braced his hands on the counter. “Your mother didn’t know. She wouldn’t have understood, and that’s not an excuse. It’s the truth, and I…didn’t want to lose her.”
A shiver of warning shook Eden as she studied her father, his tense shoulders and racing heart.
Fear. “What didn’t she know, Dad?”
He didn’t seem to hear her. “When I would talk about Zack, how he needed to come live with us, Albus would threaten me. Said he’d tell Marla everything, and my happy little family wouldn’t be so happy anymore. And I knew he was right, damn it, because Kathy was the one thing your mother didn’t understand.”
Kathy. Zack’s mother. “I thought she was gone before you met Mom.”
“Before we were together, yes. But your mother knew her. She knew—” His voice broke. “I loved her.”
“Oh.” Oh, God. So much pain in his face, in his eyes, and Eden was afraid to ask the question hanging between them. “I—I didn’t realize.”
He rounded the counter and dropped to the stool beside hers. “You weren’t meant to, Edie. No one was. Kathy… I don’t think she loved me. She was lonely, God knows—Albus treated her like shit—but that’s all. A stupid kid and his brother’s lonesome wife. A bad country song, that’s what it was.” His eyes clouded. “Except for Zack.”
Zack, who looked more like her father than she did. Looked more like her father than he had Albus. Oh, she’d heard the rumors, the spiteful whispers. She’d discounted them the same way she’d ignored everything else the small-town rumor mill spit out about Zack—because they didn’t know what she did. They didn’t know who he was, what he was.
She shook her head, denying the words her father hadn’t said. “His father was another werewolf. That’s why he was born a wolf.”
“That’s what Kathy always said, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. The only reason for the resemblance—and I know you see it. Just about everyone in this damn town has.”
If Albus had confirmed the town’s suspicions, no force on earth could have convinced them it wasn’t true. But he’s a werewolf wasn’t a workable defense in the court of public opinion.
And why was she thinking about that when Zack could be—
Oh, God. “You think he’s my brother.”
“It’s supposed to be impossible,” he said. “But maybe it was meant to be, that magic, one-in-a-million chance…and I blew it. I left him alone to deal with a man who beat the hell out of him.”
Numb shock held most of her frozen. All except the quiet, analytical part of her brain, which drew a careful line between a baby who shouldn’t have been born a wolf and a woman who shouldn’t have changed before the full moon. Two data points were barely a coincidence. They weren’t a pattern.
Except if one was possible… “I wasn’t supposed to change when I did,” she heard herself whispering, the confession tumbling free without her permission. She wanted to yank the words back, to bite her tongue and tell her father that everything was okay, that he hadn’t abandoned his son out of fear.
But the words kept coming. “I wasn’t supposed to change before the full moon, but I did. Jay and his friends are trying not to freak me out about it, but I know I’m unusual. Maybe the rules aren’t as unbreakable as the wolves think.”
“Could be.” Her father wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “I wanted to tell you. I should have already, just like I should have told Zack. He might want to find out for certain. Then again, he might wish I’d kept my mouth shut. Either way, it’s time this family was done with secrets.”
Zack had been her big brother in the ways that mattered, acknowledged or not. Knowing shouldn’t change anything. But that wasn’t how knowing worked.
Knowing always changed everything.
A wave of stress and worry hit Jay first, just before Eden came into the dining room and dropped an open cardboard box onto the trestle table.
“You okay?” he asked, sliding his paperwork over to give her more room.
“Fine.” It came out terse and rough, and she gripped the box hard enough to bend it before sighing. “No, not fine. It’s been a weird day.”
Bothered, but not scared. Jay frowned. “What happened?”
“Before or after I quit my job?”
“You what?” He reached for her hand. “Eden, did something happen?”
“No, no.” She twined her fingers with his and circled the table to lean against his shoulder. “That was the good thing. I was standing there in my office and all I wanted to be was back here getting stuff done. Dealing with the new refugees and helping Mae and Kaley get the barn set up. So I made my choice.”
She sounded relieved—about that much, at least. “So if you’re not upset about your job, what’s wrong?”
Her fingers tightened around his hand. “Were any of you born wolves? It seems like everyone I meet was turned, not born.”
“Keith, the enforcer from Red Rock. He was born a wolf. Can’t really think of anyone else you might have met besides Zack.” He tipped his head back to look at her. “It’s not as common as it used to be, but it happens.”
“Only wolves having babies with other wolves?”
A question as puzzling as her confusion. “Yeah, it has to be two werewolves. I thought you knew that.”
She wasn’t looking at him. “And wolves never change for the first time before the full moon, either. Except me.”
An exception, one that even Stella admitted could have any number of explanations they’d never know. “The kid thing is a little different. Wolves have one first change, but most of them have lots of sex. Babies with humans always turn out human.”
Eden tugged her hand free and turned to rummage in the box, surfacing with a meticulously cared-for picture frame. Inside, behind squeaky-clean glass, stood a man and a woman outside Olsen’s Diner.
The smiling woman cradled a baby in her arms, and she looked so much like Eden that Jay lingered over the image. When he finally looked at the man, Austin Green’s wide, ever-present grin was unmistakable. “Your parents.”
“Just over thirty years ago.” Her finger hovered over her father’s head. “He doesn’t look like anyone to you?”
The man looked a little bit like Eden, but mostly he looked like himself—strong jaw and a straight nose, and tall, commanding if not for the humor sparkling in his blue eyes. Then again, if you disregarded the look on the man’s face, there was something oddly familiar, something Jay had never seen in Austin. A tilt of the head, a particular stance.
“He looks—” He broke off and met Eden’s gaze, certain he had to be wrong.
Silently, she pulled another picture out of the box. A birthday party, cake and all, tiny little Eden wearing a sweet smile and Zack, clean-shaven, a broad grin on his face.
Jay’s breath caught. “Jesus Christ,” he murmured. “Is he your brother?”
“You said he can’t be,” Eden said just as softly. “But my dad thinks he is.”
“DNA testing. Find out for sure.” He set both frames on the table. “Does Zack know?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know anything past what my father told me. That he had an affair with Zack’s mom, and my uncle always suspected it.”
Staring at the photos, only one question would come. “Why didn’t Austin just take Zack?”
“He wanted to.” She wrapped her arms around her body and shook her head. “I think Albus threatened to tell my mother everything.”
“So?”
Eden’s shoulders tensed. “It wasn’t a good decision, but he was scared of losing my mother. You know how this town is.”
A flimsy excuse. “Maybe, but was your mom the kind of person who would rather have seen a child suffer than find out about her husband’s indiscretions?”
“They weren’t indiscretions! My parents weren’t even married yet—” Her teeth snapped together and she dragged in a breath. “I don’t know all the reasons, but my dad cared about Zack. If there’d been a way, he would have taken it. You’re the one who said we couldn’t have done anything even if we told the law.”
The police wouldn’t have been able to help…but they wouldn’t have had to. “I said they couldn’t prove abuse. That wouldn’t have mattered if Austin had filed for custody as Zack’s real father.”
That stopped her for a moment, but a prickle of uneasy power accompanied her defensive stance. “Could he have gotten it?”
“It depends, I guess, on the availability of paternity tests. DNA, that sort of thing.” He nodded to the frames. “Are you going to tell Zack?”
“Tell Zack what?” Zack cut in, stepping into the doorway.
Eden fell silent, both of her hands closing over the frames as if to hide the pictures. She was frozen, still, as her fear and uncertainty washed through Jay.
He did the only thing he could think of. He deflected. “How to lay tile. Once we get through redoing the kitchen, I think maybe the bathrooms should be next.”
“DNA testing and tiling.” Zack’s flat gaze rested on Jay for a moment before switching to Eden. “I thought you were going back to work today.”
“Tomorrow,” she managed hoarsely. “But I don’t think I’m going back.”
“Not going back.” The words were so cold, so empty.
Every instinct screamed, and Jay suppressed a shudder as he rose and carefully insinuated himself between Eden and Zack. “She quit. To spend more time here at the farm.”
“Quit or got fired?”
“Quit,” Eden all but snarled. Her temper was rising too, but Jay could sense the panic underneath it. “I quit, Zack. My choice.”
“Bullshit. Look me in the eye and tell me those bitches who run the place didn’t tell you to stay away from me.”
Eden’s silence echoed through the room, stricken and helpless.
Jay kept his gaze on Zack. “She’s needed here, and that’s okay. She’s okay.”
“She’s losing her life!” Zack slammed his fist onto the table, his growl eclipsed by the thunderous crack of the wood splitting. Eden’s box pitched to the floor, spilling framed pictures and knick-knacks across the floor in a cacophony of shattering glass.
“Zack, stop.” Jay infused the word with as much alpha power as he could muster.
Zack drove his boot into a piece of the broken table. It skittered across the floor and slammed into the wall, rattling the window in its frame. A sick growl wrenched free of his throat, one of rage and betrayal. “You were supposed to keep her safe.”
“I’m okay—” Eden’s voice cracked, and he flinched like she’d struck him. His gaze dropped to the shattered table and the broken glass, and he shuddered before spinning out of the room.
Eden started after him, but Jay caught her arm. “Don’t. It’ll just make it worse, seeing you hurting.”
She winced as her shoe crunched on a piece of glass. “I didn’t think it would upset him this much. But he blames himself…”
Christ, he didn’t want to have this conversation with her. Not ever, but especially not now. “He might not ever stop blaming himself, Eden. I’ve seen it before. The trauma, the outbursts—it’s bad for anyone, but worse for wolves.”
Every muscle in her body turned to steel. She knew the truth—on some level she knew it, the instinctive level that had embraced her wolf so completely—but she wouldn’t admit it. “Maybe after the situation with Memphis is settled for good. We’re all stressed about it.”
Jay had to look away. “Ignoring this won’t make it go away. We have to talk about it, figure it out.”
“If it doesn’t get better, then we get him help. He’s my family. He could be my brother.”
He grasped her arms. “I’m not talking about Zack being depressed or punching a table, Eden. I’m talking about him breaking down, losing control of everything, including the wolf.”
She blinked at him, those big eyes impossible to read now. “How do we fix it? Is there magic, or a spell?”
“No, honey. There’s nothing like that.”
Denial bled into anger. “And what does that mean? You just give up on him?”
“It’s not about giving up. It’s about protecting the rest of the pack, and protecting him from shit I know he wouldn’t want to do if he had any will or sense left.”
She didn’t look away from him. “Say it, Jay. Say the words.”
Her fury burned in his gut, and Jay had to fight not to let it spark his own. “I don’t want to. I don’t want to consider this at all, but I don’t have a choice. Zack asked me to take over this pack, and this is part of it. The hard part.”
Eden jerked her arms free of his grip, but she didn’t back off. “Say the words. If we’re going to fight, let’s fight for the right reason.”
Damn it all. “If he has to be put down,” he said quietly, “then I’ll do it myself. Quick and painless, I swear.”
“Put. Down.” She wreathed every word in ice. “You want me to get a DNA test to find out if he’s my brother before you kill him.”
“I don’t want to do anything,” he shot back. “Eden, you quit your job and he broke a f*cking table. How far from the edge do you think he is?”
“I don’t know where the edge is! Is it that quick a jump from breaking a table by mistake to having to die?”
Zack had been born a wolf, lived with that superhuman strength all his life. Nothing he broke could be by mistake. But in her position, Jay would probably have to turn it around too, if only because the knowledge was terrifying, and accepting it unthinkable.
He took a deep breath. “I didn’t say that, and it’s not about the table. You know it isn’t.”
“I know. It’s about what we have to do, and what we can live with.” Pain twisted her features, a sad echo of the agony trembling across their bond. But even now he could feel her pulling away. Fighting to put up walls, to block him from her heart. “I can’t stand by and let you kill him. I can’t live with that.”
The new distance between them hurt, but Jay hid it behind the blankest mask he could manage. “It isn’t a subjective matter, Eden. Zack has been putting as much space between him and the rest of us as possible, but it’s not enough. If he keeps on the way he has been, at some point, he’ll become too dangerous.”
“Then I’ll find a way to stop it.” She turned her back on him and tipped the box upright, as if the conversation was over. “I’ll have the dining table from my house brought over tomorrow.”
“Eden, don’t.”
“Don’t what? Make plans to fix the things that are broken?”
“No, you—” Don’t push so hard you push him away. Don’t blame yourself if you can’t change things. Don’t get hurt. “Nothing. You do what you have to do.”
She picked up a framed photograph of her and her father standing with Zack at his graduation and shook the broken glass free. It bounced on the floor with a sad clink. “I’m not a helpless little girl anymore. I’m not going to let him get hurt this time.”
And the demons plaguing Zack were the same plus some, death and destruction and the kind of failure Eden could only now begin to suspect existed. “Let me help you.”
“You can get the broom,” she said, her voice devoid of any emotion. Flat and careful, as smooth a mask as her face. She was good at pretending.
“Damn it, I’m not talking about the glass.” But she’d already placed the broken frame in the box and started for the door. Jay raised his voice. “Just stop for a second and listen.”
She hesitated in the doorway. “I don’t know if I can take many more words right now. I’ve made a lot of hasty decisions today already.”
Take your own advice, dumbass. Don’t push. “All right. Okay.”
Tears brightened her eyes, but she didn’t ask for comfort. She turned her back on him and walked away.
Her sadness lingered longer than her anger, and it wrapped around him as he grabbed the broom and began to sweep the glass from the floor. He could have waited, hidden the truth from her. Pretended Zack was fine, that Jay had never seen the flashes of desperation in his eyes, never listened to his pleas for mercy and offered his promise to handle things.
In the end, Jay didn’t have to pull the trigger. It was the sort of work Colin had taken upon himself so many times before, eliminating threats with brutal efficiency. Except it was killing him, bit by bit, and having him take on what was rightly Jay’s responsibility could only push him farther down the path to losing his soul, and maybe even his mind.
No. Eventually, Jay would have had to stand before Eden and have this same conversation. Better now than later. Now, when the cut could be quick and clean.
Mostly.