A Wolf After My Own Heart by MaryJanice Davidson (free romance novels TXT) 📗

of violent dismemberment if he disobeyed.”

“All that, while you were simultaneously changing your clothes,” she teased. “Impressive.”

“I fucking love your robe,” he replied with off-putting intensity.

“Uh. Okay.”

“Have dinner with me.”

“Try to stay focused.”

* * *

“I dunno who this is.” Sally was blinking up at Maggie-the-giant. “But it’s nice to meet you?”

Berne threw back his head and laughed. After they went back to Lila’s place, Magnus Berne had wasted no time introducing himself to Sally. “We’ve met, darling, but I don’t expect you’d remember… It was two years ago. You were just a wee thing.”

And wasn’t that convenient: the goddaughter hadn’t seen her godfather, but oh, sure, they’d definitely met, and he was definitely a friend of the family, so there was definitely no need to worry further on that account. Or ask any more questions.

Sure.

Macropi hadn’t come back to Lila’s, preferring to remain and sift through some of the wreckage. She promised/threatened to bring more clothes and food to Lila’s and insisted they make “poor Mr. Berne” comfortable, and at her insistence, they left her to it.

“Magnus was just telling us that he flew here in his own plane,” Oz said with an impressive lack of ah-ha! in his tone. “He lives in Scotland and has his own Cessna.”

“Fascinating. I didn’t know you could make that flight in a single-engine plane,” Lila said.

“Y’can, lass, but takes some planning, I can tell you. And my island is in Lake Minnetonka. And you…Miss Lila, is it?”

“You’re half right.”

“How d’you know my goddaughter?”

“I found her in an alley, took her home, gave her honey, and my life unraveled from there.”

“Hey!”

Lila smiled and took Sally’s hand. “‘Unraveled’ in a good way.”

Berne’s broad face was furrowing, which wasn’t unlike watching a cliff frown. “When ye say ‘found her,’ she was. Ah. Her other self?”

“She was Sally,” Lila replied, piling on the “why, whatever could you be getting at?” attitude. “She’s always Sally.”

She could actually see Magnus Berne working it out: Sally was a werebear + the others were also shapeshifters + Lila wasn’t = what the hell is going on?

Oz cleared his throat. “We’re. Uh. All working together on this one. Lila’s been a big help.”

“That’s a lie,” she replied. “But a sweet one.”

“Nobody’s really talking about it,” Sally told Berne. “I dunno why. Dev says it’s a cat-and-mouse thing but with wolves and bears.”

Berne swooped down into a squat, which the kid probably appreciated though he was still a head taller. “Sally, darling, what were you doing in that alley all by yourself?”

“Bleeding. I’m better now. I didn’t even need animal control!”

“Animal control?”

“Yeah. Don’t be mad at her. It’s not her fault she thought I was a wild bear.” This in a tone of pure disdain, the way Lila talked about cold Pop-Tarts.

Berne straightened. “Can you run along, darling?”

“How come? It’s my kitchen!” Lila protested, and got a frown for her pains.

“Not you, lass.” To Sally: “You, lass. Run along and play, there’s a darling.”

Sally immediately darted for the kitchen door. “Don’t forget the bag,” Lila said, and the child swerved to scoop up said bag on her way out.

“What new ridiculous bullshit have we here?” This to everyone except Lila. “Are ye wasting time by dancing? Lives are at stake.”

“We’re not wasting time, we’re being careful. This sequence of events has never happened to anyone in this room,” Annette admitted. “Possibly anyone anywhere. It’s not like there’s an official protocol to follow. We’ve trod lightly.”

“Yep,” Lila confirmed. “Lots of trodding, but it was all light. Why? Do you want to address the elephant in the room? Which isn’t an elephant?”

Berne scowled and sighed at the same time, which was a sight to see. Then he gave Lila his full (ulp) attention. “You’re an apex predator—”

“Thanks!”

“—your species, I mean. But you’re not at the top. We are. Shifters. Because we can change our shape. You, poor lass, are Stable. You’re locked into a bipedal form all your life.”

“Oh.”

“My condolences.”

“Thanks.” The hell of it was, Berne sounded genuinely sorrowful at Lila’s bad luck of not being born to werebears. “But I think ‘apex’ is in the eye of the beholder. Drop a bear in the ocean, a great white or a tiger shark moves up the scale, don’t you think?”

Berne ignored her devastating logic and continued. “Our world runs parallel to yours—”

“And now I’m not sure you know what parallel means.”

“—but as your kind vastly outnumbers mine, it’s just been easier for us to keep off the radar.”

“That’s what you think this is?” Lila made a gesture encompassing the room, the block, the world. “Because that’s hilarious.”

More frowning. More lecturing. “The few people who find out about Shifters are either natural allies, eventual allies, or aren’t credible. They get dismissed as loony conspiracy theorists or someone struggling with mental illness. But why are ye here? That’s what I canna figure. Why are you involved in any of it?”

“Because I’m not a gutless sociopath?”

“Well, you’re definitely not gutless,” Garsea muttered, earning a smirk from Lila.

“I never thought otherwise, lass—at least, not on short acquaintance. But most Stables would have immediately left town.”

“That is what usually happens,” Oz admitted while Annette nodded.

“Or have a nervous breakdown—”

“That also happens.”

“—try to tell the world what’s happening, get ignored or laughed at, and then leave town.”

So that’s why it was the Curs(ed) House. In a neighborhood teeming with Shifters, the rare Stable would come along and see something and get freaked out and vacate. Lila was willing to bet nobody overtly harassed the hapless Stable. But the neighborhood would only come together to help Shifter renters. And when something would inevitably go wrong, the Shifters had a built-in support system. The Stable was on their own.

She was willing to give Macropi and her landlord the benefit of the doubt: that they weren’t actively driving away Stables by sabotaging appliances and trapping then loosing squirrels in the attic.

For now.

“T’me, lass, it sounds like your time here has been—”

“Ridiculous bullshit? I really like that phrase, by the way. It applies so many