[Author's Note: This book is part of a series, but can be read as a standalone. If you want to understand more of the world and characters, see the Heart's Desire series on my profile. Heart's Blood is book #1]
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I take a fist to the eye and land flat on my back, then grunt as a foot connects with the side of my head. I roll to the side and try to crawl away, but I'm instantly tackled back to the ground. A pair of hands grabs my hair, and another pair gouges at my eyes.
I struggle and cry out in protest, but my assailants are merciless.
Fortunately, they're also tiny.
"Argh, you got me!" I gasp, surrendering. "I give up, I give up — you win!"
My twin niece and nephew tumble over me, giggling as they plant sticky, wet kisses on either side of my face.
They're just over a year old, my brother's children, and are each half Wolf and half Fae: probably the first, and certainly the only, of their kind.
I love them to death, and frequently watch them for my brother and his mate. Every chance I get, in fact.
"Okay, who's ready for a snack?" I ask, tickling their tummies. "I know I am."
"Na-na!" my niece Luna protests, shouting her word for 'no,' and clinging to my arm. Her brother, Luca, who's less verbal so far, latches on to the other.
"Hey now," I say with pretend sternness, "Uncle Monty's hungry from all this wrestling. You don't let him get a snack, he gonna have to eat one of you little dumplings. So, what's it gonna be?"
They giggle and hold on tighter. Wolf children develop a little faster than humans do, so even if they can't say much yet, I know they have some idea of what I'm saying. Enough to gather that the game is still on.
"I'm getting hungrier," I sing-song. "Hungrier, and hungrier. Uh-oh—" I let a playful growl rumble in my chest. "I'm hungry enough to eat both of you now!"
The twins shriek with delight, let go of me, and set off across the floor on all fours, crawling away from me at top speed. I crawl after them, and chase them all over my brother's little house, until at last they're tired enough to let me feed them and put them down for a nap. Then I sit near, reading a book and watching over them, until their dads get home.
When I hear them arrive, I set my book aside and rise to greet them.
"What have you been feeding my children, Monty?" Dane asks, sniffing the air as he comes through the door.
"Tofu and brown rice," I answer. "It's good for them. A complete protein."
He grunts noncommittally. Unlike some of my other siblings, he's never given me any grief for my choice not to eat meat, but he doesn't exactly approve, either.
"You know, they got into the fridge and ate a raw steak the other day," he says. "I don't think tofu's on their menu."
I glance over to where Julian, their other dad, smiles down at them, brushing silky black curls away from their sleeping faces. He once told me he didn't like kids, but he's turned out to be a good parent, after all.
"Well, they are right little monsters, I suppose," I say fondly, and move to gather my things. When it's just me and the twins, I feel at home here; with other adults around, I take up too much space. "I'll get out of your hair, then."
"You're welcome to stay, you know," Dane says with a frown. "You're always welcome, Monty. You know that, right?"
"Yeah, yeah, I know." I wave at him. "I just got some things to do, is all. And it's easier if I leave when they're asleep, anyway."
Easier for me, I mean. Sometimes I have trouble tearing myself away from my favorite nephew and niece.
Dane follows me out onto the porch.
"Hey," he says, tapping the side of my arm with a thin stack of twenty-dollar bills, "thanks for watching the pups. You're a lifesaver."
I laugh to hide a wince. He just hit a sore spot, and I don't want him to know it.
"Aww, you know I won't take your money, Dane," I say. "Hell, I'd pay you to let me spend time with those kids."
He lowers his hand, knowing it's no good to press once I've made up my mind.
"How's the job hunt going?" he asks, changing the subject. "Any luck?"
"Not much." I shrug, shielding my eyes as I gaze out over the little field of wildflowers that I'd helped Julian plant that spring. "But it's okay. I'm still enjoying my 'retirement.'"
"Monty..." Dane sighs unhappily. "Look, I'm thrilled to have you here, and I'm honored you've chosen to join my Pack. But it seems like you sacrificed a lot when you moved here — like a stable, well-paying job. There's gotta be people who need bodyguards in Spring Lakes. Why don't you ask Ambrose? He knows all the rich assholes around here."
"Oh, no," I say. "I don't wanna bother him. 'Sides, I've always made it on my own. I don't want a job that's only given as a favor, anyway."
Dane shrugs. "Alright, brother. But I won't stand to see you struggle. You need help, you ask for it. That's the rule here."
I nod. "I gotcha. So... you need me Saturday night?" I try to keep the hopefulness from my voice, but from the way Dane frowns — like he does when he's hiding a smile — I know I fail.
"Saturday afternoon," he says. "And you can stay for dinner this time."
He says it like it's an order, more than an invitation, and I nod again. He is my alpha, after all. "You got it. I'll bring a dish."
"No tofu," he adds. "Julian hates that stuff."
"Yeah, yeah." I wave at him, laughing as I walk to my car, and then mutter under my breath. "Julian hates it. Uh-huh."
~ ☾ ~
As I drive home, I mull things over in my mind. Dane's right, though he'd never say it to my face. I've been sitting on my ass long enough.
On the surface, I came here to help my brother start his own Pack, and to be close to my little niece and nephew. That's true. But it wasn't any hardship, either.
In fact, I'd already left my old job. I just hadn't gotten around to telling anyone yet. Moving here gave me the excuse I needed to explain why I'd abandoned my career. But that's all it was — an excuse. The real reason is something I don't want to talk about yet, even with Dane.
The real reason is I made a mistake. I failed. And when your job is to protect someone else's life, failing is bad. Very bad.
Dane's right about another thing too: there are people in Spring Lakes who need bodyguards. What he doesn't know is that I'd vowed never to work as a bodyguard again.
On the other hand, I'd used up most of my savings over the last year, and while Dane didn't know it, I had been looking for work. Found it, too, a few times. I'd never told anyone, though, because I never lasted more than two weeks.
In retail, I either made the customers nervous, or was "too nice" (giving people things for free makes managers angry, I've learned).
In customer service, I speak too soft and too slow (I can talk fine with family and friends, but strangers are difficult).
Manual labor's fine, but my mind tends to wander, and I make mistakes (I worked for Ian Foley's construction company for a while, but he had to let me go after I bent some rebar into a pretty shape with my bare hands).
I'm no good with technology, don't have any special schooling or training, and while I love to read, I'm a bit dyslexic, so anything requiring a lot of accuracy is out of the question, too.
The one thing I've ever been really good at is protecting people. But then I failed at that, too.
The agency told me it wasn't my fault — that the client willfully disobeyed my instructions, and that it wasn't on me — but that's not how it feels. I'd been watching that kid for weeks, and I should've seen it coming. Because while I'm good at protecting, I know I can be overprotective, too, and the client had been chafing for a while already.
I should've backed off — passed the job to someone else — but instead I'd hung on. I'd thought if a six-foot-eight, 290-pound werewolf couldn't keep him safe, who could?
I hadn't counted on keeping him safe from himself.
It's been over a year now, since my last job came to an abrupt and tragic end, and I still haven't found a way to forgive myself for that.
~ ☾ ~
A half hour later, I pull up in front of my house and climb out of my big old Lincoln Navigator. I'd bought it used, at a good price, and the black exterior and tinted windows had given me a legit G-Man vibe that clients liked. In truth, I'd bought it because it was affordable, and big enough I didn't look ridiculous standing next to it.
I got a good deal on the property, too, considering. It's a few acres right on the border of Dane's territory. It's got National land on one side, and undeveloped private land on the other. It's not prime real estate — just a few acres of brambly fields — but it's ideally situated for running patrols.
As Dane's Pack grows and he gains power as an alpha, other Packs will notice, and Spring Lakes is prime territory. Makes me wonder how it wasn't claimed already, when Dane moved here. Some hot-headed alpha asshole is bound to come sniffing around eventually, and I'll be ready when they do.
Because if there's one thing I will never fail to protect, it's my family.
Locking my car, I head on up the brick path, which I made myself, towards the ramshackle little house that came with the property. I've had to make quite a few modifications to make it fit my... well, my everything, but it's sweet in its own way, and it has 'good bones,' as my dad would say.
I've got a little garden out back, too. The soil's good here, and I could do worse than to start a little mini farm — growing fresh veggies and what-not. Plus, there's room for my other hobby — blacksmithing — and nobody nearby to bother with all the banging sounds. Maybe if I get good enough, I can even make a business out of it.
All-in-all, I like it here. I might not have found my feet just yet, but I'm not going anywhere. Not while Luna and Luca still want to play with Uncle Monty, anyway.
But as I unlock my front door, I heave a sigh. I haven't had to worry about money in a long time. With no one to spend it on, I'd saved up a lot over the last fifteen years I spent working as a bodyguard since age nineteen. Enough to buy this house, and to spend the last year living off what remained. But now, at last, the well's running dry. I got enough in the bank to get me through the next few months, but after that...
I'll either have to get better at something, or go back to doing the one thing I thought I did best.
In the meantime, I'm not ready to go back on my promise to myself. And I promised myself I'd never be responsible for another life again.
~ ☾ ~
Later that night, I Shift and go for my usual run. Even in such a remote area, in the middle of the night, I have to be careful not to be seen, and stick to shadowed woods and wild land—at least in Wolf form.
Dane says I look like a Great Pyrenees mated with a Wolf. My ears are upright, but rounded and small, my fur is long and fluffy, and mottled white and brown. I'm also the size of a large pony.
And I don't enjoy scaring people.
So, with careful stealth, I make my rounds, ensure everything is safe and sound, and return home just as the moon sets below the high hill, covered in stickery dry weeds, which borders my land to the west.
I'm about to Shift back to my human form when I catch a strange scent.
A Wolf's scent, and not one I know.
And it's coming from the direction of my house.
I stalk forward, hackles raised, lips drawn back from my teeth. I know I must look like a terrifying monster — a real 'beast of Gevaudan' — as I advance, but that's the point.
I may not like scaring people, but I sure can when I want to; and if there's an intruder in my brother's territory, then I want to.
I crest the rise before my house, ready to fight whatever waits on the other side — a whole Pack, if need be.
What I see is not what I expect.
A single Wolf lies on my doorstep, head resting on its paws. Its fur is white as snow, and its eyes look black to my Wolf's vision. It whines at me, lowers its ears, and shuts its eyes — a sign of abject submission. I halt in my tracks.
It could be a trap.
There could be twelve Wolves waiting downwind, ready to tear me to shreds the moment I let my guard down.
There could be.
The white wolf whines again, and I catch another scent on the wind.
Blood.
It's hurt, and trap or not, I can't just stand here all night.
So I let my fur settle back and relax my aggressive stance, then walk forward with cautious, slow steps.
The other Wolf doesn't move.
I nudge its head with my nose, but it only whines again — softer this time.
Then, before my eyes, it Shifts.
Fur melts away to smooth skin; limbs lengthen; tail disappears; a human face replaces the canine one.
I stare down at a young man, curled in on himself in a fetal position. Blood streaks his back and sides, oozing from multiple wounds.
Not knowing what else to do, I Shift as well, groaning against the snap and crack of reforming bone, and then kneel at his side.
"Hey—" I grasp his shoulder gently. "What happened to you, friend?"
He stirs, sighing, and lifts himself with an effort, uncurling and sitting up on his knees. He's a strange-looking thing, with tight curls of blond hair, medium-toned skin, and eyes so dark I can't tell the pupil from the iris.
"Are you... Hunter?" he asks in a dry whisper. "Dane Hunter?"
"No, I'm Monty. I'm Dane's Brother. Why? Who are you?"
"Asylum," he breathes, drooping forward on his hands. "I ask... asylum."
"Asylum?" I rest a hand on his bare back as my brain scrambles to recall the obscure Wolf laws regarding the term. "Asylum from what?"
"My sister," he gasps, shivering beneath my touch. He looks half-starved. "Please. She'll kill me. She'll..."
He droops further, and I reach to support him, lifting him into my lap.
"Hey!" I shake him gently. "What do you mean, your sister will kill you? Who are you, kid?"
He shudders, and opening his eyes with an effort, fixes them on mine. His lips are cracked, and his oddly pale lashes are crusted with dried tears.
"Kit," he breathes. "I'm Kit Mortaine."