21. Mike

TWENTY-ONE

Mike drove off into the dim after dropping off Beatriz, his heart coming apart like splintering glass. It took everything within him to keep from turning the car around, kicking down the door, and pulling his beloved into his arms. He had claimed her, but he wanted to do it over and over, to show her how her very essence coated every cell in his body.

That was what the wolf in him said, anyway.

You are a fool! You have found your mate, and you're running away? What the fuck for?

Mike gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned a ghostly white. He drove to Tristan and Barbara's to let them know that Beatriz would no longer be a distraction and that he was fully on board as the Wolfe enforcer again.

It was the right decision, but his wolf wasn't going to stop nagging him, at least initially. It was within a shifter"s very nature to crave their mate, especially once they'd marked one another. The bond that was forged was entirely cosmic.

So it wasn't going to be easy to ignore his wolf's pleas, but he had to. The agony of it was comparable to that of peeling skin from a sunburn.

But a decision had been made.

Mike pulled into the Wolfe's private estate and parked the car. It was early for a visit, but the Wolfe"s matriarch and patriarch were early risers. The bright day felt crude to him.

He was welcomed inside by one of the housekeepers, who knew him and led him into the lounge that the enforcer had grown familiar with. He expected to see Tristan standing by the window, hands contemplatively behind his back. But he wasn't.

Instead, Barbara was there, sitting on the couch with snacks, tea, and coffee. Mike hadn't eaten, but he had no appetite, not since leaving Beatriz.

"Good morning," Barbara said with a broad smile.

"Good morning," Mike said, standing awkwardly in front of the Wolfe matriarch, flicking his fingers. "Not to be rude, but do you know where Tristan is? I have a few things I'd like to discuss with him."

Barbara was eyeing him the entire time. She raised her mug to her lips, steadily holding the saucer between her slender fingers with ease. She spoke in between blowing the steam away from the cup.

"He's still interrogating that dealer down at the station. Apparently, he"s a difficult nut to crack."

"I see."

Barbara cocked an eyebrow. Mike tried to remain unaffected by her glare, but his sullen demeanor was as subtle as a hot air balloon in a clear sky.

"What's going on?" she asked bluntly.

Mike considered evading her question or even simply lying. But what was the point? There was a reason she was half a leader of a well-known pack. She could see through him like rice paper.

"Beatriz and I came to an agreement," he said, swallowing dryly. "We decided that it would be best if we went our separate ways for now while this drug business is being dealt with. I didn't like feeling useless as a Wolfe enforcer, and she noticed. I wanted Tristan to know that I'm ready to go."

Barbara's slack grip on the mug was jarring to see. She was far older than her appearance implied, but she rarely staggered. For a second, Mike thought she was going to drop the mug onto the carpet below.

She didn't. She merely rested it on the saucer and then placed that upon her knee. The disappointment in her expression was tangible.

"Mike, my dear, why on earth did you do that?" she asked him. "Do you really think as shifters ourselves, our opinion of you would go sour simply because you found your mate?"

Mike rocked on his feet. Barbara patted the couch next to her, and he followed the unspoken order. When she continued, her tone had readjusted, no longer one of shock but one of humility and reverence.

"Darling, there is nothing wrong with having a mate. In fact, it's a magical thing that should be celebrated. Wanting to put her first is literally within our nature. Plus, having someone like Beatriz is even more ideal. She's already so loyal to our family. She will work hard with you to protect the community."

Mike knew she was right. But something took his attention from the conversation at hand, stealing the matriarch's attention at the same time.

He turned to the direction of the door in which he'd come. His nostrils flared.

"Is there anyone else in the house?" he asked promptly.

Barbara was as still as a statue. She, too, was on high alert.

"Just the housekeeper that let you in," she said, sniffing the air. "But that's not her. It's more … acidic."

Her sense of smell was far keener than his own, but he was able to pick up something just as abhorrent. They both rose from the couch and crept downstairs, cautious and ready to jump into battle at a moment's notice.

Mike saw a gray wolf prowling on the back deck. Mike whispered on the stairs just as the wolf, whose smell he recognized as Franky, approached the back door.

"Where did you say Tristan was?" he asked.

"With the dealer, but then a tip was called in. About the whereabouts of …"

Barbara didn't need to finish her sentence for the picture to crystallize in Mike's mind. All at once, he realized that it was a ploy to get Barbara alone while Franky crashed through the glass doors of the kitchen.

The sound was deafening, forcing both Barbara and Mike to shift at spectacular speed. Franky galloped toward them on the stairs and was greeted by Mike, snarling and growling to protect his matriarch.

Barbara was now a mighty wolf with luscious bone-white fur. He knew that when push came to shove, she would be able to hold her own. But the fact that there had been a plan to end her life was sufficient fuel to make Mike fight for his pack.

Franky was surprised to see him as he rounded the corner to the stairway, stalling and skidding as he came upon the two wolves hunched over with deadly glares. But Mike remembered that he'd been formidable in the back alley, not one to give up easily.

So he wasted no time and charged at him before the bastard could get the upper hand.

Mike collided with the gray wolf, his skull connecting with Franky's gut and sending him into the kitchen from where he came. He smacked down and slid over the broken glass, making him wince in agony. Mike did not let up on him. He had no clue what else was waiting for him in the backyard.

Franky stumbled to his feet, chips of glass sticking to his fur with a couple protruding like tiny diamonds, and ran into the backyard. Both Mike and Barbara followed, knowing that the injuries were not mortal. Franky swayed slightly, but he retaliated quickly, catching Mike by the jaw with a growl that echoed under the bright sky.

It rattled the enforcer, but only for a moment. Barbara took Franky on, her lithe and athletic movements akin to a fresh pup. But she was far wiser and fought with strategy rather than the brute force that many young shifters were possessed by.

She lurched at him, but instead of landing on him the way he must have anticipated, she used her tail to whip at his eyes. It was harsh and connected on his left side, briefly blinding the enemy.

It was then Mike's turn. He recovered from the snap, a tiny pink line of blood trickling onto his tongue, and gaped his mouth open to wrap around Franky's neck. He managed to get a grip on him, sinking his teeth into a thin slab of skin.

But Franky was far stronger than he appeared. He thrashed about, gnawing and wriggling, determined to break free. Mike had a flash of thought in his mind that perhaps Franky was on the drugs that were responsible for the tragedy that befell that wolf some time ago.

Because that fucker was strong.

Mike! To me!

Barbara spoke to Mike telepathically, and he knew instinctively what she was asking. With Franky still in the grips of his fangs, he tossed him in Barbara's direction, the way a football player tosses a pass.

Barbara, in her infinite strength and insight, was able to take Franky's head between her paws, placing them over his ears like ear muffs. She did not waste time in doing what needed to be done.

Her family was on the line.

Barbara used her arm strength to crack Frank's neck before he knew what hit him. Quite literally.

The sound was guttural, echoing through the empty sky like the severing of a plastic pipe. All of the life drained out of Franky's face, the look of shock permanently etched in a death stare.

Barbara let his body go with a thud. But relief was yet to come.

Barbara! Watch out!

Mike heard the agonizing call at the same time as the matriarch. Another wolf charged in her direction. They were coming from behind. It was a cheap ploy, but it often led to victory. Hence, Mike knew instantaneously who was coming for them.

But it was a voice that sent chills through his very soul.

The siren call was that of his mate.