Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

B ay looked out through the coffee shop window at the deserted street. Big piles of plowed snow lined the street, but there were no people about. If anyone searched on “small town in the middle of nowhere,” Sunbeam, Idaho, would be the first result. The drive from the closest airport had offered 150 miles of spectacular views of the Sawtooth Mountains. As much as he loved wilderness, Bay had stopped enjoying the scenery after an hour. He just wanted to arrive and get this errand over with. From what he’d found online, the town had a population of only a few hundred. Of course, shifters didn’t always answer the census surveys, so the margin of error on that could be big.

Although shifter law demanded that, as a visitor in another pack’s territory, he report to the local pack’s alpha, his status as Arek’s enforcer technically meant he was exempt and didn’t have to ask for permission. Still, since he now supposedly had diplomacy skills, he would.

As soon as he figured out how to find the damn alpha.

The wolf’s name was Dale Norris, and his official address listed in the shifter directory had been no help. Sunbeam’s houses had no numbers, and the post office served as the official mailing address for everyone who lived in town. When Bay had called Norris’s listed phone number, the post office’s voicemail answered. He’d texted Justice, who’d promised to dig up accurate contact information.

Bay shoveled another forkful of pie into his mouth and savored the explosion of berry flavor. Tart and sweet teased his taste buds as he sneaked another look at the one server working in the coffee shop. She turned her head, and the sunlight shining through the tall windows highlighted golden streaks in her brown, wavy hair. Her plain white T-shirt and faded blue jeans couldn’t hide her delicious curves, and as she leaned over a table to refill the only other customer’s coffee, the denim stretched across a very nice ass.

He couldn’t stop watching her, despite knowing she wasn’t for him. Everything about this server—Sonya, according to her name tag—screamed, “ nice girl .” She wore almost no makeup and had piled her hair on top of her head and then secured it with a pencil. The women that went home with Bay wore tight dresses designed to enhance and show off their assets. He wasn’t a wonderful conversationalist under the best circumstances and got even worse when speaking with women. He often blurted things out without a filter.

His bluntness wasn’t a problem among the wolves. If a pack mate took offense to something he said, they’d let him know with words or a punch. But human dates usually walked away in a huff. And he wouldn’t hook up with anyone in the pack—that was asking for more trouble than even he could handle.

So he stayed quiet around the women he was interested in. Playing the strong, silent type while flexing a few muscles worked well. He looked amazing as arm candy in social media pictures, and he always delivered great sex. Both parties walked away satisfied, without expectations of a long-term relationship. That kind of arrangement wouldn’t be what this Sonya was looking for.

The older man at the other table said something that made Sonya smile, and she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear as she walked back around the counter that showcased baked goods and sandwiches. Christmas decorations littered the surface. They matched the hanging decorations of paper bells and weirdly colored snowflakes. As far as Bay’s nose could tell, both the server and the man were regular humans.

His phone buzzed where it lay on the table next to his plate. He reluctantly tore his gaze from Sonya to check the incoming text.

Justice had sent the alpha’s name and number, as well as a brief message. Bay listened to the text-to-speech voice in his Bluetooth earbud.

Justice

Tried calling this new number. No answer. Left a message.

Bay scooped up the last bite of pie and shoved it into his mouth, then choked on the food when he looked up to find a small boy watching him from the seat across from him at his table. How in the hell had the kid appeared without a sound? Coughing, Bay reached for the glass of water Sonya had delivered with the pie. A few mouthfuls dislodged the block in his throat.

The kid watched him with eyes so dark they were almost black. They matched the mop of unruly curls on his head. “You took the last slice of brambleberry pie,” the kid said as if he were accusing Bay of a war crime, then wiped his nose with a dirty hand that smeared mud across his cheek. At least Bay hoped it was mud. The kid smelled like he’d lived outdoors for a while.

“Sorry?” Why the fuck did he feel like he had to apologize? He’d ordered the pie from the menu, and Sonya had brought it.

“It’s my favorite,” the kid said, those dark eyes turning even more hostile.

Bay took a breath, his mind blanking on what to say, and then the kid’s scent hit him full on. The kid didn’t smell like he lived outdoors. He smelled like the outdoors, like forest and wildlife. Like wolf.

His own beast woke, alert to another shifter presence—even if it was pint-sized. This must be the kid Arek wanted him to retrieve.

The kid’s eyes narrowed. “You’re wolf. But not pack.” He tilted his head in a very wolflike gesture. If they could move like an animal’s, Bay would bet the kid’s ears would have swiveled forward.

Hiding a smile, Bay wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Did you shift recently?”

The boy nodded. “How did you know?”

“Sometimes when I spend a long time in wolf form, the animal gestures stay with me, and it takes a while before I speak in full sentences again.”

The kid smiled, flashing blinding white teeth and cute dimples. “Nobody’s told me that before. I thought it was just me.”

Bay frowned. He knew the pup had just lost his dad. But if he was shifting already, his father should have taught him details like the beast staying with you for a while. Maybe the man had been sick before he passed away. One way or another, someone in the pack should mentor the pup, especially if he was dealing with grief. Powerful emotions could derail a newly made shifter, so who knew what it would do to a wolf pup? “You should ask someone in your pack about stuff like that.”

The boy hesitated. “If I ask, it makes my sister look bad.”

Just as Bay was about to ask what the hell that meant, the server abruptly appeared at the short end of the table. “Refill?” She poured coffee into his mug before he could answer. Her caramel-colored eyes focused on the boy. “Karim, you know you’re not supposed to bother the customers. Go back into the kitchen.”

“But he got the last piece of brambleberry,” the boy protested, pointing at the plate on the table.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Her lips moved, as if saying a silent prayer.

“He’s not bothering me,” Bay said, feeling weirdly guilty about the pie again. He reached farther out with his senses than before to see if Sonya was a shifter. If she was the sister the kid had referred to, she should be. She still registered as human, though.

Those magnificent eyes popped open. “That’s nice of you to say, but?—”

“How can he be wolf but not pack?” The boy waved his hands at the woman. “I understand why you are not pack. But how can he be if he is a wolf?”

Bay frowned. The kid shouldn’t be asking a non-pack human about wolf business. He tapped into the connection with his own beast to see if his human senses had missed something. His animal brother, hyper-alert and focused on the server, ignored him. That was new.

And then her scent revealed an undertone he’d missed when she’d been across the coffee shop. “Witch,” Bay said. Normally, the wolf would have alerted him, but his beast just quietly observed Sonya. Maybe she’d mated with one of the local shifters, and that’s why the kid talked pack business with her. A weird pain hit his chest when he thought of the server having a mate. His wolf growled its displeasure.

Her eyes narrowed. “Not exactly, but how is that any of your business?”

Shit. He’d pissed her off, and he could understand why. After all, most shifters were suspicious of witches. He’d once been one of them. But Laney had shown him the error of his prejudice. So had Regie, the true mate of Bolt’s. She was gentler in her corrections than Laney, despite Bay, delirious and dehydrated, scaring her when he’d tried to protect Bolt from her. He knew he didn’t have the words to explain all of that and settled for “It isn’t.” He rubbed his chest. That weird pain hadn’t eased.

“Correct. Let’s keep it that way.” She turned back to the boy. “Kitchen. Now.” Her tone left no room for argument. After a quick look at Bay, the kid scuttled off the seat and dragged his feet toward the counter. The server watched him until he disappeared through a door in the back and then faced Bay again, rattling off, “Anything else I can get you? No? Great, here’s the bill.” She dropped a piece of paper on the table and walked away.

This was a record, even for him. Usually, he said more than a few sentences before a woman stalked off, angry or offended.

He focused back on the job, and in a quiet voice, dictated a text to Justice.

Found kid. Next step: Track down the alpha.

His phone read out the quick reply:

Justice

Excellent. Give ETA for return when you have it.

Bay watched Sonya glaring at him from the other side of the counter as he counted out cash for the bill and included a hefty tip. What was the connection between her and the shifter pup?

Regarding the ETA that Justice had asked for, Bay had a bad feeling that his mission would not be as short or as uncomplicated as they had expected.

Step number one, find the alpha. Step number two, make nice with the witch.

He looked back over at Sonya. Her angry gaze blazed even hotter, and he winced inwardly. Maybe he’d push that step farther down the list. After he’d gathered more information about her.

No need to catch another blast of her fire before he knew what he was walking into. Rubbing his chest again, he left the coffee shop and headed for his rental car.