Calla
Just when it began to sink in that a terrorist attack had taken out my path back to Apex, my mother called me with another surprising development to add to my day.
"I need you to drop what you're doing and come back to Crown."
I shut myself into Dev's empty office, not sure I'd heard her correctly. "Are you serious? It's over?"
"Am I serious about what being over?"
She sounded perturbed that I hadn't just said "yes ma'am" and hung up the phone. I poured myself a cup of coffee from Dev's sideboard and added in a hazelnut creamer.
"You told me to return to Crown." Annoyance noodled its way into my own voice. "That means I'm done with Apex, correct?"
"Heavens, Calla! What could you be thinking? You've barely done anything of consequence all the time you've been there. No, it's nothing like that. I need you here now so you can go on a date."
Hazelnut flavored coffee spewed from my mouth, peppering the white walls and Dev's framed diploma from the Sury Police Academy. I wiped the bronze frame with my sleeve. "You did not just say you want me to go on a date."
Rhys's broad shoulders and the wide stance he always took to let everyone know he was in control floated into my head. I imagined meeting him at a French restaurant around the corner from Crown. He'd hand me a bouquet of purple and yellow irises, which somehow, he'd have figured out were my favorite, and then we'd follow the maître d' to the best table in the house.
Ugh, why had Rhys been the first person I'd thought of? What was wrong with me?
"I've arranged a potential mate for you."
Bullshit. For years, my mom had dragged her feet on this subject, and now of all times, she'd decided to move forward without even telling me who my potential prospect was. "Mom, I told you I can handle that myself."
"That's not how we do things. You're a modern woman and I'm very proud of your independent spirit, but you must leave some room for tradition, Calla."
I wasn't entirely opposed to being set up but the strange timing made me suspicious. "Who is this guy?"
"You don't know him. He's from one of the lesser packs."
I flinched at the way she'd phrased that. "They're smaller packs, not lesser. There's nothing wrong with them."
"Well then, you shouldn't object to being mated to someone from one of them."
'I'm not, it's just...which pack? Which guy? Details would be nice."
"You'll find that out soon enough," she told me. "When can you be here?"
"Give me an hour."
"An hour? Why so long? It's not like you'd be stupid enough to get stuck on Neutral Isle during a terrorist attack."
Her sarcasm was a direct hit. Damn it. How did she know? Had Jackson told her? "I assume you're referring to the bridge?"
"Yes of course. Which means you'll need to come east through Crown to get back to Apex Headquarters anyways. It will work out perfectly."
Perfectly for her, at least. Sighing, I consented. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing. Whoever my mom set me up with, he had to be better than the current company I'd been forced to keep. Rhys's backside as he'd been fumbling with his computer cord underneath his desk sprang up and I took a mental mallet to it, pounding it back down. But trying not to think about Rhys really was like a game of Whack a Mole. As soon as I hit each thought of him, another would pop up.
All I could do was hope my mother's mystery werewolf would replace Rhys in my mind, because right now, he was taking up way more space than I was comfortable with.
***
Almost exactly an hour later, Jackson dropped me off in front of the address my mother had given to him. I'd expected to meet him at Crown Headquarters with Simone present, followed by a meal at a local eatery with just me and my date. Instead, she'd chosen a location on the northern edge of Crown territory in the arts district. This was a charming area filled with galleries and theaters that, at a different time, I'd have been thrilled to find myself in. In fact, I'd frequented it with Vicki and Brett on numerous Saturdays, listening to folk music while perusing stands selling produce and crafts at the farmer's market, sipping wine at art walk openings, or attending community theater productions. But today was Monday, Vicki was missing, and instead of my usual reasons for being in this neighborhood, I found myself entering a new gallery filled with uninspired black and white photographs of boats and seagulls.
"Welcome to Stone Claw Art."
Stone Claw. I should have known. It was their turf I'd stepped into when Jackson had pulled up at this address, the road this gallery was on being the line dividing our territories. Stone Claw was a tiny pack, even smaller than Tobias's, but they'd always expressed loyalty to Crown, and their proximity to the Sury International Airport gave them clout with humans, who held them up as the most assimilated pack. Secretly, their pandering annoyed the werewolf community, but we needed their good standing in general, and now more than ever. No wonder my mother had thought it prudent to introduce me to one of them.
"Hello, I'm Calla Bardot. Simone Bardot sent me." I took in the werewolf before me. Tall, angular, with icy blue eyes that made me shiver. Handsome, but off-putting in a way I couldn't quite identify.
"I know who you are," he said as he approached me and lifted my hand to his lips. "Enchante. I'm Barnell. You are more beautiful in person than I could have hoped for. Not that you'd have to be, but it doesn't hurt."
Lord, this guy had a smarmy side. "I'm sorry, what does that mean?"
I knew exactly what it meant, of course. It would hurt him if he wasn't attracted to me, but if it got him what he wanted, he'd still mate with me. Yeah, one minute in and I knew this date wasn't going to go the way he thought it was.
"I'm just thrilled, that's all. Every bit of me." He winked.
I returned his wink with a cringe then changed the subject. "So, is this your art?"
"Yes, it is. I like to see the world through my camera lens. It gives one perspective, you know?"
I didn't know, but I nodded anyway. If Barnell's art indicated his perspective on the world, he should consider going to the eye doctor. He showed me around the front gallery and then back into a second space, with another set of photos, these seeming to have been taken at a street market in the southern river district.
"This is my favorite of the two gallery spaces," he told me. "It's smaller, but more intimate."
"It's lovely," I said, wondering how long I'd be expected to fawn over his photos before we could move on to the next part of our date. "I could use a meal. Do you want to go grab lunch?"
"Later. We should get on with it now."
Get on with it. I stepped back towards the hallway connecting this room with the front space. "On with what?"
"I've been waiting for your mother to reach out to my pack for some time. Ever since your father died, in fact."
I swallowed. "Have you, now?"
"You must admit, this pairing makes perfect sense. I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner."
"That would be difficult, considering I've never heard of you before today."
Now it was his turn to flinch. I'd stung his fragile man-baby ego. "You must have. Our parents know each other."
"What's your last name?"
"Barnell."
"I thought that was your first name."
"It is my first name."
"Your name is Barnell Barnell?"
"It's a family name."
"Yeah, I got that." My God. How could my own mother do this to me?
"So, you've heard of my family then? My parents are Barnell and Vanessa."
I stared into his icy eyes and realized they were familiar. "You have your mother's eyes."
"That's it," he slapped his knee. "You do know me. My mother is going to love having you in the family."
"Hold on there, cowboy." I held out my hand, palm facing him. "This is just a date to see if we feel like a mating bond is present. Take a step back."
"I feel it," he said as he invaded my personal space. "I felt it immediately. Didn't you?"
I thought about being in the elevator with Rhys. He'd annoyed the fuck out of me, but I'd still felt something, and it wasn't the growing anxiety I was experiencing now.
"I'm going to need to think on that one. Preferably over chips and salsa. There's a great Mexican restaurant about three blocks from here. Should we go?"
I turned towards the hallway, only to be jerked backwards as his hand clamped down onto my wrist. He yanked me towards him. "I think you do feel it. There's no way this can be one sided."
"I don't know what to tell you, Barnell Barnell, but if you don't let go of my arm, it's you who are going to be one-sided when I kick your left testicle up into your body."
His grip tightened. "You want tacos? Fine, we can go get tacos. But only after we've sealed the deal."
"I'm not sealing anything with you."
His face began to look like he'd been standing in the desert at noon in a world where sunscreen didn't exist. "I was told this would be easy. What the fuck is your problem?"
"You're an entitled ass. Let's start there. You're so entitled, you thought you could mate with me after you've known me for twenty minutes and I'd just look into your winter zombie eyes and tell you to go for it. Well, no. I'm not mating with you. There's no mate link happening here and there's no deal to be sealed." I twisted my arm and pulled away from him. "Also, your art sucks, and yes, art is subjective so that's beside the point, but I really think someone needs to say it."
I'd taken five steps before he overtook me. "Calla, this is happening. You've got your pride and that's fine, but we're meant to be mated. In the end, I'm the one who gets to decide."
"Excuse me? Do I look like I give a fuck about propping up the patriarchy? Back the fuck off, fucker, before you make me say fuck one more fucking time!"
I pushed him on his chest, and he grabbed me, forcing me back against the hallway wall. "Everyone is going to see that we're mated, and everyone will think 'what a perfect mating.' And then you'll realize how lucky you are. I'll be a good mate to you."
His breath smelled like milk that had been left in the fridge too long. "Get off me," I screamed.
He held firm as he lowered his head to my neck. Squirming, I felt the prick of his fangs—fangs that had not been present a moment ago. The only werewolf transformation that took place outside of full moons happened during a claiming, when a potential mate's canines grew and sharpened. It was a sign that this was real to Barnett. In his mind, he had claimed me as his mate, marking my skin as confirmation. Sealing the deal.
All I could do was deliver my own part of the deal, giving him what I'd promised.
Barnett yelped and curled in on himself after I'd kneed him in the groin as hard as I could. Down on the ground, I gave him a few swift kicks in the head. How dare that bastard marked me without my consent! I pressed my hand to my neck. The physical wound was superficial but mentally, it penetrated deep within me, drudging up a side of myself I hadn't known existed.
Men like Barnett thought they could take what they wanted and suffer no consequences. Men like him were the reason women—even shifter women—had to carry pepper spray and walk in groups at night. Men like Barnett were the reason Vicki was missing.
I narrowed my eyes and gave him one more kick. "I could end your entire pack for this, Barnett."
He moaned and scooted away. It gave me a thrill to see him suffer, but he was still dangerous. If I didn't get out of here before he recovered, he'd lash out at me again.
"I'm going to leave now. I'll be crossing the street and waiting for my ride in Crown territory—a territory you're no longer welcome in. Step one foot across that street and you'll be standing in front of a werewolf tribunal in a week's time."
"You're mine," his voice cracked as he spoke. "I've marked you."
"Go to hell," I said as I opened the door and left.
***
I rubbed at the mark as I stood in front of a confused Rhys, who had just offered to remove Barnett Barnett from the universe. The offer was tempting, but he'd only made it because, as far as I could guess, he thought I was now claimed and that this fact would mess with my ability to help Apex out.
"I'm not claimed by anyone, and I'm certainly not mated, Rhys."
"Your neck says otherwise."
"I didn't ask for this."
"What?" He examined the wound like doing so would replay the shittiest date in the history of dates for him. Anticipating Rhys's aversion to blood, I'd cleaned it well, and it had stopped bleeding half an hour ago. Still, Rhys winced. He seemed to be battling with himself to stay conscious. "Did some asshole try to force a mating with you?"
"Basically, yes, but he's been put in his place, I assure you."
"I'm not doubting you, I'm just saying...he thinks he's claimed you, Calla. What did you do, kick him in the balls and now you think he understands the situation?"
"I didn't just kick him in the balls. I said words that were very convincing as well."
"Oh, I see. You used your words. It's all taken care of then."
"Don't mock me."
He pivoted in a circle in front of me as he ran a hand through his hair. "This is going to be another thing we're forced to deal with. As a company with an image to redeem, I mean. So, who's the shifter?"
"Can we not talk about this anymore?"
He opened his mouth, then closed it again. "You're right. We shouldn't talk about it anymore. It doesn't matter anyways. Some random wolf has claimed you or he hasn't claimed you. He's your mate or he isn't. Whatever." He opened the fridge and took out a beer, adding it to the other two on the counter. "You want one?"
After the day I'd had, I wanted several. "Sure."
He handed me the beer and then a turquoise silk handkerchief from one of the drawers. "If you don't want to have to answer the same question a million times, you might want to cover your neck."
For the rest of the day, we talked about business and his brothers, and the PR campaign we needed to launch after the Wilderness Cycle. If me being potentially claimed by another wolf bothered him, he didn't show it. It was as if he'd shut off a switch, one moment caring, the next, indifferent.
This was exactly how it should be. This was exactly how I needed him to be. And yet, his indifference stung more than the wound pierced into my neck.