As for Stefan? It smelled good. He’d love a bite. But one bite would lead to him waking up in the woods naked with sore and sticky parts he didn’t want to think about.
He held out a hand to the lynx. “Raymond. It’s me, your brother.”
The cat growled.
“Don’t you fucking pull that shit with me.” Stefan took a step forward. “You need to come away from that fountain, buddy. It’s got catnip in it.”
The feline rolled its head.
“Yeah, I know it smells delicious, which is why you gotta walk away from it.”
“Rawr.” The cat lifted a lip, and to his surprise, Stefan snarled right back. A little more beast than he would have thought himself capable of.
The lynx blinked. And the voices around them went from excited murmurs to nothing at all.
Double fuck.
“Get out of the way,” he heard his mom bark, and he turned to see her arriving with a platter of crustless sandwiches. Peanut butter and jelly. Raymond’s favorite. “Come on Ray-ray. Look what Mama’s got.” She waggled the tray, and the cat appeared torn. Fountain or Mommy with treats?
“Ray-ray, who’s my good boy?” Mom crooned.
The lynx snapped and bared teeth as he headed for Mom and her goodies. Crisis averted.
For the moment, but he had a feeling the true disaster had yet to come.
9
Gwayne didn’t let on how pissed he was until the Hubbard family left. The moment they’d been confirmed gone from the neighborhood, with a tail that would watch them overnight, her brother howled, “Who the fuck spiked the food?”
Silence.
“Who was so stupid as to endanger us all?” The query ended on a low trebling note.
No one came forward.
That brought a deep rumble from Gwayne. “Someone saw something. Speak now or—"
A little boy raised a hand. “I know what happened, alpha.”
“Bertrand?” Spoken with surprise.
The boy hung his head. “It was me. I put the spices in the chocolate.”
The admission stunned. Gwayne’s voice softened. “What kind of spices, Bertrand? Where did you get them?”
The boy hung his head. “I dunno.”
An obvious lie.
Everyone knew it, which was why Gwayne had to deal with it publicly. “Who. Gave. It. To. You.”
There was command in those words. An order from the alpha that had to be obeyed.
“Jojo.” The name whispered past Bertrand’s lips then in a more hyper rush, “I did it to be nice. Jojo said our guests would love it. Said it would make them so happy.”
Jojo was a member of the pack who was already on probation for being a lazy shit. And now a traitor.
“Where is he?” Gwayne asked. No need to mention who.
People all around shuffled and looked. Jojo hadn’t been at the barbeque. No one recalled seeing him.
A search of his place showed things missing, personal effects. His phone was on the bed.
As if that were the only way of tracking the traitor. It didn’t matter how far Jojo ran. He’d put the pack in danger. He’d have to pay the price.
The party scattered from the park to the other houses, leaving Nimway alone with her brother. He stalked through his yard to the house and headed for the liquor cabinet. It brought a chill of remembrance to her skin.
Of him drunk. Depressed.
At least it didn’t happen often now. After his wife and baby died—complications with the birth—he’d turned to alcohol to numb the pain. It only seemed to make it worse. He suffered way too much and emerged on the other side of his grief changed. Tougher and, yet at the same time, softer. She could tell because rather than get rid of the Hubbards before they could expose the pack, he was contemplating bringing them into their midst.
As if cats and dogs could work together.
He handed her a glass, and she grabbed it. A good thing, too, because she needed a fortifying swig when he said, “Care to explain why I caught you dry humping the red-headed one?”
She spewed the liquor.
Just her luck Gwayne was the one to interrupt one of the most heated make-out sessions of her life.
“Now that’s a waste of good booze.” Gwayne tossed his back.
“I don’t see what the problem is,” she mumbled.
“You. Him. I’m thinking either too much beer or pot. Maybe both?”
“I’m not… I mean I wasn’t wasted.”
“Then what possessed you?” Gwayne’s dry reply.
She grimaced. “Can we leave it at bad choices?”
“That’s more than a bad choice. Stefan is a possible threat to our pack, and you had your tongue down his throat.”
“You’re being a patriarchal ass. I’m a grown woman who can fuck whoever she likes.”
“Then why not fuck someone who will actually be useful?” her brother snapped. “For years now, I’ve been telling you to settle down with someone. Have a kid or two to carry on our line.” Because Gwayne had vowed to never remarry after his wife and child died. “And instead of choosing someone with the right kind of bloodline, you were making out with a fucking lab experiment.”
“Again, I will remind you that we are in the twenty-first century and you don’t have a say in who I fuck or date.” As if she’d cave to his macho bullshit.
“Wrong. I do have a say, because you’re beta for this pack. The one who will lead if I fall.” He softened. “And you are the only family I have left. Who will carry our name after you?”
She sighed. Wanted to tell him it was time he got over his grief. But at the same time, he’d suffered so much when they died.
“I’m sorry, Gwayne, but I’m not going to tie myself to someone just because they’re pack. On the contrary, you should be cautioning us against it. For God’s sake, you’ve read the reports on inbreeding.”
“We’ve been careful.”
Yeah, limiting who could date who. They’d long ago banned first cousins. “So careful that our birth rate is lower than ever because our gene pool is too small.”
“What do you suggest then?” Gwayne snapped, the argument a familiar one. “You know mixing with humans doesn’t always result in a lycan.”
“Never said humans. What about another type of shifter?” She couldn’t have said why she threw it out there, and yet she pictured a certain pompous bearded ginger.
“Wait, are you telling me you actually planned to bed Stefan?”
“Yes.” It had nothing to do with carrying on the family name, but more because he set her panties on fire.
“Think he’d still be willing after what happened tonight?”
“No!” Was her brother nuts? Now that the blood was back in her brain, she could see getting involved would end badly.
“Yeah, Stefan seemed pretty pissy.” Gwayne rubbed his chin. “What about the other brother?”
“Raymond?” she squeaked. “What about him?”
“He seems the decent sort.”
“For what?”
“An alliance between our families.”
She shook her head violently. “Like fuck.”