Starcrossed Shifters Page 12

  Megan smiled faintly. “I don’t know. Maybe you were bored.”

  “Yeah,” Lane said, rolling her eyes. “That’s it. We were bored. You nitwit! Where you go, we go. I don’t care if your mate is a wolf. Stranger things have happened. Besides, he saved our asses the other day, didn’t he?”

  “Yeah, he did!” Jan piped up. “He’s really not too bad for a wolf!”

  “He’s actually wonderful,” Megan said softly.

  “Oh man,” Naomi muttered. “She’s so sappy, now.”

  “Can we go, already?” Lane asked, slapping the dashboard. “We’re burning daylight! Plus, I don’t trust Bryan to keep his shit together this long. Let’s go, foxes!”

  “Yes, ma’am!” Megan said, and pulled out with a squeal of her tires.

  Gunner was being held up the coast and the drive wasn’t terribly long, yet it was longer than Megan liked under the circumstances. She had no real plan other than to show up and beg for Gunner’s life from her own people. She considered that they could recon the place and devise a plan to sneak him out, but she was more businesswoman than spy, and better at persuading than sneaking. She was hoping she could give the old-money, old-fashioned foxes the hard sell and convince them that letting Gunner go was in their best interests as well as hers.

  She was not very hopeful if she was being honest.

  She was also hoping the head of her clan would deal with John Byeler if they managed to reach a compromise. Otherwise, she was not sure what she should do with him but she would call the cops if she had to. If her people chose not to help her, she didn’t see why she should follow their tradition of avoiding human law enforcement.

  The foxes were way up in the Santa Ynez Valley in wine country. The drive was long enough that the girls started to get slightly bored and edgy. Megan focused on devising her pitch to the alpha about why he should release Gunner as she stared out at the road, ignoring the beautiful hills as they rolled by.

  Well, you see, she’d say to the alpha, I love him.

  She didn’t have much more than that, so far.

  “What do you think your kids would be like?” Jan asked, hunching forward to stick her head up into the front seat. “Like, will they be like mutant fox-wolf creatures?”

  Megan bristled at that. She had heard of crossbreeding between shifters before, even though it was harshly frowned upon. She wondered if the “fates,” whoever they were, having paired her up with Gunner, were opening up the world a little. That would be nice. “I don’t think it works like that with shifters,” Megan said, frowning over her shoulder before turning back to the road. “I think if we had a kid it would either be a fox or a wolf. Not like...a combination.”

  “Oooh.”

  Lane turned all the way around in her seat, kneeling on it like a kid, and grabbed the back to talk to Jan and Naomi. “Yeah, it’s like when the Lady and the Tramp had puppies? Like some of them were Cocker Spaniels, like Lady? But then one of them was like Tramp?”

  “Yes,” Megan said, vaguely infuriated, “it’s exactly like The Lady and the Tramp.”

  Jan said, “Does that mean if they have a girl, it’ll be a fox? And if it’s a boy, it’ll be a wolf?”

  “Oh my God,” Naomi said, shaking her head. “You are ridiculous.”

  “That’s how it works in the movie!”

  Lane said, “Alright, maybe it’s not exactly like The Lady and the Tramp.”

  “I’m so glad you guys came with me,” Megan said wryly. “The Dream Team.”

  The estate was almost the kind of place Megan had grown up, being from old money herself. She was at least, not intimidated by the grandeur of the huge Spanish Colonial mansion that appeared like a stark, white meringue sitting in the middle of the bright green valley. She suspected things were not quite so cheerful for Gunner inside.

  Her phone buzzed and she nudged Lane. “Can you check that?” She drove up the long drive to the entrance of the estate, and saw a few foxes running along the grass, watching their car as they came up.

  “It’s your mom…” Lane did not sound very happy and she read in a monotone, “She says the Santa Ynez alpha called her and says you’re a traitor and you’ll be called to a trial and she wants to know what is going on. She sounds pretty chill about it, to be honest.”

  Megan shrugged and said, “She’s never had a problem she couldn’t buy her way out of. Of course she’s calm. Tell her I’m working on it. Also...tell her I’m in love with a wolf.”

  “Megan.”

  “It’s fine. She’ll love the drama. Trust me.” Megan winced and said, “Unless I get executed or something.”

  They reached a great iron gate where there were two guards waiting. They were blessedly not in fox form. Megan rolled down the window and a guard leaned in slightly and made a show of smelling the air in the car. He nodded at his accompanying guard.

  “You have business here?” The guard inquired.

  “Tell your alpha Megan Flannery wants to see him,” Megan said casually.

  The guard looked surprised by that and nodded to his friend again. “We’re going to have to follow you.”

  Everything was starting to become more real. Megan took a deep breath and tried to focus on the thought of doing one thing at a time as she slowly drove up and was then followed the rest of the way down the drive by a black SUV that parked right behind them near the huge, arched double doors of the white stucco mansion. The place even had a belfry with a bell in it at the top. When they got out of the car they were told they would be tranquilized if they shifted.

  “I don’t think they’re very friendly,” Naomi said darkly.

  “Nope,” Megan said. “Doesn’t look like it.”

  “What exactly is your plan to get Gunner back again?” Lane asked as two more guards appeared.

  “I’m going to say ‘please?’” Megan said.

  “Right,” Lane said. “Solid plan.”

  The sight of all the tranq guns made her nervous. Leashes came in all shapes and sizes. Her own consisted of four people and made its home in a condo. It was under the auspices of the larger clan which had a few dozen leashes inside it and some of them were as small as Megan’s and others had dozens of people in them. There was no particular size minimum although Megan had heard you at least needed more than two to call yourself a leash. She had grown up in a medium-sized leash of aristocratic families in the Bay Area. But this group looked larger and more consumed with their own power perhaps. They were in the same clan at least. Megan was hoping she would gain some credibility there...or perhaps much less since she had slept with a dirty wolf. It depended on the mood of the alpha, she supposed.

  “Oh wow, “ the Lane said. “There’s like a throne room and everything. Seems excessive.”

  “Yeah,” Megan said. “I don’t have a throne room.”

  She caught Gunner’s scent among all the others, that strong wolf standing out from all the other foxes, and a part of her relaxed. He was here and he was alive. She could smell his blood and his skin and that subtle cologne. She could smell his fear too and her heart thumped in sympathy.

  They were being marched down a tile hallway under a series of those white, stucco arches, at the end of which was a large sort of meeting room. There was a big stone chair in the back of the room that sat on a platform. A large, amber-colored fox sat on the throne. It was wide enough for him to lie down comfortably in the seat. He seemed to scowl at Megan and her leashmates as they were led inside. Several other foxes and humans littered the room; some standing or sitting at attention, others draped over chaises or relaxing on the cool, tile floor.

  Henry, the fox alpha, sat on the throne and stared at the four of them for a couple of long and awkward minutes and then abruptly he shifted and a man sat on the throne with his legs crossed, wearing a three-piece white suit, and looking blankly dispassionate.

  “You brought your leash with you,” the alpha said flatly.

  “Yeah!” Lane said, stepping forward. “Where
Meg goes, we go!”

  “Take the other three to a cell,” the alpha said to one of the foxes sitting at attention. The fox guard shifted and two others followed them to take Lane, Meg and Jan away.

  “We’ll be alright,” Lane said quietly, even as a guard dragged her away by the arm.

  Meg watched them, her stomach turning. She had strongly considered that she might be ostracized from her clan but the thought of her friends being hurt…

  “Megan Flannery,” the alpha said, its voice thundering in the big, tiled room, “it’s fortunate you’re here. I was going to call you to trial to answer for the allegations made against you. We are told you have fornicated with the enemy, one of the Northern Wolf Clan by the name of Gunner Dylan.”

  Megan licked her lips and squeezed her hands together. “Fornicated sounds kind of tawdry. We did make love. He’s my mate. And I love him.”

  The room burst into gasps and grumbles, muttered obscenities and pointed fingers. Henry held up his hand to quiet everyone. He had not taken his eyes off Megan.

  “Your defense is that this wolf is your mate? That blasphemy is what you’ve come here to taint my court with-”

  “Your court?” Megan blurted. “You’re a leash alpha just like me, you’re not a king. I don’t have a court.” Her cheeks turned red. Maybe she should have controlled her mouth a little more, but the whole thing, even as dramatic as the stakes had become seemed so silly and the alpha seemed so self-important. Now that she looked at him, she also remembered that he had come to dinner at her parents’ house a few times when she had been little.

  Now he looked so angry. They all looked so angry and it was all because she loved Gunner. The thought struck her as very sad. She pursed her lips. The whole thing was sad and pointless and stupid.

  Henry narrowed his eyes, “There will be a trial. If you are found guilty, you will face excommunication from your leash and your clan. You will obviously be stripped of your title as alpha. But first, we must wait for Charles Blakely, alpha of our clan. He will decide your fate. Until then, you will be held in a cell with the others. Take this sad excuse for a fox away.”

  “Oh, come on!” Megan said. A guard came and grabbed her by the arm and she was marched out of the room and down the corridor, a chorus of boos and hoots echoing behind her. She had a wild thought that she could shift and somehow sneak Gunner and her leashmates out, but the place was likely guarded well against shenanigans by shifters and she didn’t know its layout. Even if she and her friends could sneak through, being smaller creatures, Gunner would be much harder to get by anyone.

  Her mind raced as she tried to think of some way out of this. Blakely, she knew, was an old fashioned kind of alpha. He wasn’t about to be open-minded about something as wild as allowing foxes to mate with wolves. The guards were sneering at her in disgust. The one holding her arm seemed loath even to touch her. She sighed and let him take her down a flight of stone, spiral stairs. The cells were really sectioned-off portions of a huge wine cellar. She saw her leashmates crowded into one cell behind iron bars. The guard walked her by the walls of shelved wine bottles, past her friends who smiled encouragingly, though Megan could smell their fear. He shoved her into a second cell. It was very clean, with the same terracotta tiled floor as the rest of the place. On the other side was a third cell where a figure sat hunched against a wall, his head in his hands.

  Megan ran to the bars between her and Gunner and knelt on the tile as the guard locked her in.

  “Gunner,” Megan whispered. “Gunner, are you okay?”

  Gunner’s head snapped up. He had a split lip and a black eye, his cute mop of thick, brown hair was a disaster. He grinned at Megan as if they were not locked in a wine-cellar-cum-dungeon, about to have their lives ruined or worse.

  “Sweetheart,” Gunner muttered, scrambling to meet her at the bars. “What are you doing here? You can’t be here! Did they kidnap you? That goddamn fucking John Byeler-”

  “I wasn’t kidnapped,” Megan said, clasping his hands through the bars. “I came here, we came here to… Well, I don’t really know, now. To stand up for you at least. I wish I’d had a fancy rescue mission. They would have dragged me here anyway. They say there’s going to be a trial or something. Ugh.”

  “I’m sorry,” Gunner said, his eyes shining. “You were right. You were right all along. We should never have let anything happen. I never wanted you to get hurt-”

  “Shut up,” Megan hissed and ducked her head to kiss his fingers. The tile was unforgiving on her knees but she didn’t move, gazing adoringly on her mate. He was beat up and dirty. He looked worse than she’d ever seen him. He was beautiful. “You’re my mate,” she whispered, and cupped his stubbled cheek through the bars. He kissed her palm, his eyes shining. “You’ll always be my mate.”

  “You guys are kinda cute, I gotta admit!” Naomi piped up from the pack’s cell. “Hi, Gunner!”

  “Hi, Naomi!” Gunner blushed a little as he yelled over Megan’s shoulder.

  Jan said, “Do they feed you in here?”

  “Not yet, they haven’t!”

  “Dang.”

  “Can’t believe your whole pack showed up,” Gunner said. “Makes me wish I was closer to mine. It’s nice to have family.”

  “If we get out of this in one piece, we’ll be your family,” Megan said.

  They kissed through the bars and it was a little awkward as Gunner attempted to hold her as well as he could, one harm hooked through around her waist. They sat like that for a long time, and Megan felt calmer just being near him. His arms that had become so familiar now grounding her. Nothing too bad could happen, it seemed, if Gunner was holding her.

  Eventually, they fell asleep, sitting up against the wall where they could still touch each other through the bars, Megan’s leash quietly talking at the other end.

  “Wakey wakey!” A guard was kicking the bars.

  Megan jerked awake just as Gunner squeezed her hand. He reached through the bars to smooth her hair and she tugged his head forward to kiss his cheek.

  “Hey, hey, hey!” The guard said. “Break it up! I’ll lose my lunch. Charles Blakely’s showed up. Time for you to face the music. Everybody up!”

  “Shit,” Gunner muttered.

  “Whatever they do to you,” Megan said, as she got to her feet. “They’re doing to me too.”

  “No,” Gunner said darkly. “Screw that.”

  “You’re not the boss of me,” Megan said, smirking despite herself. “I’m an alpha, baby. And your boss.”

  I love you, Gunner mouthed.

  She mouthed it back and then guards were dragging them back out, her leashmates too. They were frogmarched back up the narrow, spiral staircase, down the long and dark corridor and into the “throne room” which was now much more crowded and which also smelled almost as strongly of wolf as it did fox. The alpha of the Northern Wolf Clan stood near the throne. His name was Hank, Megan now knew. He was a big man, just as Gunner had said; a rotund and bearded old wolf, dressed in plaid flannel and jeans. He looked funny next to Charles Blakely, who appeared vaguely annoyed by everything in his line of sight, his wispy white hair curled over one eye. He wore an orange tweed suit. They did not look particularly bothered to be standing next to each other, even though they had declared war on the other several times over their long years. Now, they mostly seemed fatigued. Hank was backed up by three men who waved at Gunner. One of them had long blonde hair and seemed utterly out of place in a Hawaiian shirt and shorts.

  “Dude!” The blonde shouted across the room at Gunner. “Why didn’t you tell us you were in trouble, bro! We got your back! Did you really score with a fox? That’s so hot!”

  Megan snorted and looked over at Gunner as he was marched into the room. Gunner reeled and said, “Sean! It is? I mean...I know it is but… Thanks, man! I guess!” He looked absolutely shocked to see him there and said to Megan, “They came! My pack came! They came for me!”

  Megan nudged him as they were sto
od on the other side of the throne and said, “Good. That makes me happy.”

  “Megan Flannery and Gunner Dylan,” Henry, the pack alpha said. “You have been brought here on charges of fraternizing with the-”

  Charles Blakely conspicuously coughed and Henry stopped talking and glared at him. “Is there something you’d like to say first, my lord?”

  “We all know why we’re here,” Blakely said in his raspy voice. “I should like to hear what Flannery and Dylan have to say. I think we can skip the unpleasantries, don’t you? I’m an old man and I’ve been standing here for nearly an hour. I’ll need to move my bowels soon-”

  Behind him, Sean said, “Ha! Gross.”

  Blakely glared at him and continued, “Megan, do you deny your romantic relationship with Gunner Dylan?”

  “No,” Megan said firmly. “But I’d like to-”

  “Hush,” Blakely said. “Gunner, do you deny your romantic relationship with Megan Flannery?”

  “No! She’s my mate! I love-”

  “A simple yes or no would have sufficed,” Blakely said. He leaned over and whispered something in Hank’s ear. It was the strangest thing Megan had ever seen. She could not even think of an apt comparison. “I had a very interesting conversation with a uh...friend.” He looked meaningfully at Megan and she thought of the note she’d found on her desk. “An impartial arbiter, one might say. She speaks well, if a little cynically, of the love between Megan Flannery and Gunner Dylan which seems to defy the division between our clans. A division that goes back long before I was born - and I was born a long time ago.”

  “Yeah,” Hank said, crossing his beefy, flannel-clad arms. “You’re old as hell. So am I. I got bad knees. And I’m very tired. Tired of fighting.”

  “I’m very tired of fighting,” Blakely muttered. “Didn’t realize it until I saw a way out of it. That friend of yours, Megan, was very persuasive. So tell me one thing, you two. Megan, do you love Gunner?”

  Megan glanced at Gunner and said, “More than anything.”