Blood & Bone Page 2

We fell silent as we both heard footsteps approaching my back door. A few seconds later there was a light knock before Kerry Gayle stuck her head in the door. I felt a shaft of pain when I saw her. A witch like my mate Belinda had been, Kerry was now the head of her coven, having taken over when Belinda died. She had also been Claimed by a vampire named Finn not long after the Faction had been disbanded. Seeing her reminded me of what I had lost.

  She smiled at us as she entered, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She seemed almost…sad. “Hey, Calder. Lachlan.”

  “Things getting too wild for you over at my house?” Calder asked with a smirk.

  Kerry shook her head and I noticed the envelope in her hand. “Uh, Calder, would you mind if I spoke to Lachlan alone? I have something for him.”

  Calder studied her for a moment then picked up his beer and headed toward the door. “No problem. I’ll just go check on Ricki and the pups.”

  When he reached her side, she put out her hand and touched his arm. “Don’t go too far,” she murmured softly, her blue eyes communicating something to Calder that I couldn’t read.

  He seemed to understand though because he nodded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  When the door shut behind him, Kerry didn’t move from her spot in the center of my kitchen. She looked at me, the sadness I sensed earlier clear on her face.

  “You look better,” she stated softly.

  I shrugged and sipped my beer. “I’m alive.” I realized I was being rude and gestured toward the chair that Calder had just vacated. “Why don’t you have a seat and tell me why you’re here?”

  Kerry sighed and sat down, her fingers tightening on the envelope in her hand. “I’m not sure how to explain this. What I have to say is difficult.”

  The back of my neck tightened at her words, the tension spreading to my shoulders. “Maybe it’s best if you just tell me.”

  She took a deep breath and held out the envelope. “I have a letter for you from Belinda. It, uh, appeared in my library yesterday with instructions to give it to you today.”

  My heart stopped beating at her words and I stared at the creamy paper she held out to me, my name scrawled across the front in elegant script. Slowly, I reached out and took the envelope from her, hyperaware of the coolness of the paper and the smooth feel of it beneath my fingers.

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “Do you want me to, um, stay or would you prefer if I—”

  “I’d like to do this alone, if you don’t mind,” I told her, not taking my eyes from the envelope in my hand.

  She released a shaky breath. “I’ll ask Calder to—”

  “No,” I stated, lifting my eyes to hers. “I’ll want some time alone after I read this. Tell him I’ll call him if I need him.”

  The witch looked as though she wanted to argue, but she finally nodded and got to her feet. Before she opened the back door, she glanced over her shoulder at me. “I’m sorry, Lachlan.”

  Then she was gone.

  After the door shut behind her, I laid the envelope flat on the table, staring at my name. I could hear the quiet murmur of Kerry speaking to Calder outside, but I had little interest in trying to decipher what they were saying. My entire focus was on the letter in front of me. I didn’t want to open it. Didn’t want to see the words that Belinda had written to me before she died.

  When I realized she was my mate and began my pursuit, Belinda had tried to keep me at a distance. She told me, over and over, that it was for the best if I waited until the threat of the Faction was gone. I’d managed to convince her otherwise. I’d marked her not long before she died.

  Sometimes I wondered if she fought our connection so hard because she knew she was going to die and she didn’t want me to perish with her.

  I heard Calder and Kerry walk away from my back porch and realized I needed to read the letter now. Calder would return in a little while, that much I knew. Whatever Belinda had written on these pages was private. For my eyes only. I didn’t want to share any of that with Calder or anyone else.

  I flipped the envelope over and ran my fingers across the wax seal affixed to the flap. There, in the crest, was a wolf. It was Belinda’s crest, one she used when sending correspondence to other Covens. A magical seal that could only be opened by the person the letter was intended for. I’d laughed the first time I saw it, saying it was clear that she was meant for me.

  I slid my thumb beneath the flap and the seal released easily. I withdrew several small sheets of cream-colored stationary, Belinda’s beautiful handwriting covering the pages.

  I yearned to read it, to hear her voice speaking to me in my mind, yet I hesitated because I knew the heartache it would cause. It would hurt to remember her. Hurt to hear the words as though she were right here with me again.

  I steeled myself for the pain and began to read.

  My dearest Lach,

  I met you today for the first time and already I am overwhelmed with what I feel for you.

  I knew I would meet you, you see. I’ve had visions of you for months. But they didn’t prepare me for what I would feel today.

  Our futures are intertwined. Tangled together, not only with each other but also with others. We are destined to be lovers, more than lovers. It feels strange for me, knowing all this when you do not.

  Perhaps it is because I know how this will all end. By now, I’m sure you’ve realized what I already know—that I am not long for this world. I do not know when or how, but I will be forced to leave you behind. I thought I had made peace with it…until today.

  But destiny does not change on a whim. What is coming to pass is for a larger purpose, greater than either of us. And, even now, I understand that you aren’t wholly mine, even if you do not.

  When I am gone, Lachlan, you will be needed more than ever. I know you will want to die with me, that you will do your damnedest to wither away, but you can’t. I don’t want that for you. I want you to live. I want you to cherish each year. If not for yourself, for me. Your existence is more precious to me than my own and all I want is for you to have a full and happy life.

  I can see you now, in my mind’s eye, shaking your head, but I’m demanding that you don’t ignore my desire. That’s right. Your mate is demanding something of you. And I know you, Lachlan. You will do anything in your power to give me what I want.

  And what I want is for you to live…and to love again.

  Don’t deny yourself happiness because I am gone. THAT ISN’T WHAT I WANT FOR YOU. And you shouldn’t want that for yourself.

  Let me go, my love. Release yourself from the pain and the grief. It is time.

  With my heart and soul, I love you.

  Belinda

  As I finished reading her words, my heart pounding in my chest and my lungs burning, a single drop of liquid hit the page next to her signature. I blinked, trying to focus my gaze on it as it was joined by another droplet. Lifting a hand, I touched my cheek, feeling the wetness on my skin.

  I lifted my fingers to stare at them and realized I was crying. With a howl, I shot to my feet, my chair crashing to the floor behind me. As I lurched for the back door, I was already tearing at my clothes, leaving the tatters to fall where they would.

  As soon as my feet hit the back porch, I launched my naked body into the air. When I landed in the grass, it was on four paws. Another howl tore from my throat and the sound felt as though it was ripped from my very soul.

  Then I ran as if the hounds of Hell were behind me.

  Chapter Three

  Chloe

  My cell phone rang, right on schedule.

  “Hi, Gram,” I greeted as I answered.

  “Hi, darlin’. How are you doin’ today?”

  “I’m good. How are you?”

  “Fine as I ever am. How’s the fishing going?” she asked.

  I looked out into the trees surrounding the cabin as I answered. “Frustrating. I’m having trouble getting a single bite.”

  “Maybe you’re us
ing the wrong bait.”

  I shook my head and sighed in frustration. “No, I think my bait is fine. I just think I’m going after the wrong fish.”

  “Hmmm. So what kind of fish should you be going after?”

  “The biggest I can find,” I replied.

  To anyone listening, our conversation would seem a bit odd but not necessarily out of the ordinary. What they wouldn’t realize is that we weren’t really talking about fish at all.

  “Think you can track him down?” she asked.

  “I’m closer than anyone realizes.”

  “Well, let me know how that goes.”

  “I will. Love you, Gram.”

  We disconnected and I turned off the burner phone, setting it down on the railing that ran around the front porch. I took a deep breath and looked out over the property that Gram had arranged for me in Oklahoma. Outside of Tulsa, the small cabin and surrounding acreage were secluded. My closest neighbor was several miles away. There were trees all around the cabin and a small pond in a meadow several hundred yards away. It was tranquil and exactly what I needed.

  Leaving the pack had thrown me off balance. I hadn’t expected it to be this difficult. I missed Calder and Ricki and their wild pups, but most of all, I missed Lachlan. Though he made it clear he’d rather not deal with anyone as he grieved the loss of his mate, he’d slowly begun to open up to me. We would sit together for hours by the lake on the MacIntire compound, sometimes in silence and sometimes reminiscing about our childhoods.

  Being here at the cabin reminded me too much of what I was missing.

  Realizing that I was sliding into the dark swirl of thoughts that had plagued me since I left the compound, I pushed myself away from the railing, snatched up the burner phone, and went inside the cabin. I wasn’t here to nurse a broken heart or wallow in loneliness. I had a job to do.

  I missed my parents fiercely. In the past two years, there were so many times I wished I could have talked to them or asked for their advice. They weren’t traditional wolves by any means. Though my father was the alpha of the MacArthur pack, my mother had a huge role in his leadership. She tempered his ferocity and helped him understand the perspectives of others.

  Though the name of the MacArthur pack hadn’t changed, my grandmother had been hearing rumors that nothing else was the same. Darrell Whelby took over the pack after my parents’ death, and I’d hoped he would follow their example. He’d been their second in command for nearly twenty years. I grew up around him, played with his children. He was the current chief of police in Prater and every one of the four officers who worked with him was a pack member.

  People said Darrell ruled with fear and cruelty, yet no one had approached the Tribunal to have him removed, so I didn’t know how true those claims were. They didn’t fit in with the Darrell I knew, but I couldn’t be sure. After years as the enforcer for the Austin pack and then the MacIntire pack, I’d done things I never thought I’d do. Things that would have sickened me when I was younger but I knew they had to be done. Sometimes I even relished it. A good enforcer often had a dark side. It was a necessity in doling out punishment to those who broke the rules.

  Then there were the whispers that Darrell had something to do with the death of my parents. That was what had truly gotten my grandmother’s attention. My father, Matthew, was her only son. His death had broken something within her. She’d wanted to come to Oklahoma when the rogues that killed him were caught, intent upon meting out her own brand of justice. Unfortunately, Darrell and the pack mates with him had slaughtered them during the fight.

  Though Sophia MacArthur was frustrated that she didn’t get to spill their blood with her own hands, she was satisfied in the belief that justice was served.

  Until a few months later. An anonymous voice on the phone had insisted that Darrell Whelby had been involved in the plot to kill my parents all along. It was enough to set my grandmother on the path that led me here. She’d quietly dug into Darrell’s past and the months leading up to that horrible night.

  What she’d found was enough evidence to make us both question exactly what had happened.

  It had taken two long years to get here, but we were finally going to get some answers.

  For the past week, I’d been snooping around online, looking for any information on Darrell and other members of the pack. I was amazed at the kind of shit I found on their social media accounts. I didn’t have all the information I wanted before I approached Darrell, but I had a better idea of what their habits were and how to find them.

  Unlike the MacIntire pack, the MacArthur pack didn’t have a compound. They all lived in Prater, Oklahoma. There were a few humans in the town, but the majority were half-bloods. One of their parents or grandparents had been a shifter but their blood had been so diluted they could no longer transition. They knew us for what we were and didn’t care.

  The arrangement shouldn’t have worked, but it did.

  Unfortunately, that was going to make it more difficult for me to be sneaky. With so many shifters in one place, I’d never blend in. Those who knew me would recognize my scent immediately and those who didn’t would still know that I wasn’t a pack member.

  My only option was to approach the pack as the prodigal daughter and hope that they would welcome me back into the fold. There were many who hadn’t wanted me to leave the pack, who’d thought I was abandoning my birthright. They hadn’t understood why I didn’t want to lead.

  But my parents did.

  Especially my mother. I had the same itchy feet that she had in her youth, always wanting to go, to do, and to see. It was a rare trait in a wolf shifter, but one that she understood all too well. She knew I would be ready to settle down eventually and that I would be back, even if no one else believed it.

  Now I just had to convince them.

  I picked up my burner phone and turned it on. Slowly I typed in Darrell’s number. My thumb hovered over the button to connect the call as I took a deep breath. On my exhale, I pressed it and lifted the phone to my ear.

  Darrell answered on the third ring.

  “Chief Whelby.”

  “Hi, Darrell, it’s Chloe.”

  There was a long pause before he exclaimed, “Chloe MacArthur! Girl, it’s been years since I’ve heard from you. How are you doing?”

  I managed to put a quaver in my voice when I answered, “Not so good, Uncle Darrell. I, uh, had some problems in the MacIntire pack and…” I trailed off, trying to make it sound as though I were holding back tears. “I-I have no where else to go.”

  There was another long silence, this one rife with tension, which immediately made me suspicious. Finally, Darrell spoke. “Well, you come on back to Prater, darlin’. We’ll take good care of you.”

  “Thank you so much, Uncle Darrell,” I said softly. “It means so much to me.”

  “When can we expect you?” he asked, his own voice growing affectionate.

  “Is tomorrow too soon?” I asked.

  He laughed a little. “Not at all, darlin’. I’ll see you then and we’ll find you a place to stay.” He paused for a second. “I’m not trying to pry here, Chloe, but why are you coming to us instead of your grandmother, Sophia?”

  I had my answer ready. “She’s furious that I’m leaving a third pack. She didn’t want me to leave Mom and Dad to begin with, but she said that this is the last straw.” I sniffled. “She said she’s done with me.” It was all a lie of course, but Darrell wouldn’t know that.

  While Gram didn’t understand my wanderlust, she loved me enough to let me go my own way. Mostly because she knew I was too much of her granddaughter to be dissuaded. When Sophia MacArthur wanted something, she found a way to get it. I was just like her in that respect.

  “Oh, my poor Chloe. Well, you come up here tomorrow. If you don’t mind something a little old and run down, I have a small cabin outside of town that you can use. That way you’ll have a little privacy while you get your head together.”

  “That soun
ds perfect, Darrell. Thank you so much.”

  “Call me when you get into town, okay?”

  “I will,” I promised.

  “See you tomorrow, Chloe.”

  “Tomorrow, Darrell.”

  I disconnected the call and set the phone on the table in front of me. Then I smiled.

  It wouldn’t be long before I had the truth.

  Chapter Four

  Lachlan

  I groaned as I pushed the bar away from my chest, trembling from the effort. I settled the weights back on the rack with a clang and lay there panting. Fuck, how had I let myself spiral so far down that I could barely lift such a light amount?

  Moving slowly, I rolled up into a sitting position and grabbed the bottle of water by my feet. Nine hundred pounds might be more than a normal human could bench press but it was the weight I used to load on the bar for a light workout.

  I looked down at my shirtless torso and noticed that at least my ribs weren’t quite so pronounced any longer. Over the last week, my appetite had returned and I’d gained weight. My muscles were still leaner than they used to be, but the bulk was returning.

  I heard the door slam overhead and Calder’s light step across my kitchen.

  “Lach?” he called.

  “In the basement,” I answered.

  He came down the steps, stopping on the bottom to study me. “You still look like shit,” he commented, “But I’m glad to see that you’re putting on weight.”

  It seemed like he said that every time he saw me these days. I laughed, the sound rusty and harsh. God, when was the last time I’d laughed? More than eighteen months ago, that was for sure.

  “Fuck, Calder, if I’d known you were coming, I would have put on some make-up for you.”

  He grinned, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’ll be sure to call ahead next time and bring my camera.”

  I flipped him off as I lifted the water bottle to my mouth to take another huge gulp. “What’s up?” I said after I drained the last of the liquid.

  The smirk on his face faded as he came further into the makeshift gym I’d set up in my basement, settling his ass on another weight bench. “I just got a call from Brian Kirkpatrick.”