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Slade pushed away from the doorway to stand in front of Micah. “You don’t practice what you preach, Shaman?”

The emphasis and insult he put into the word had Micah’s ire rising. Only Tante Kay Joie’s godmother called him Shaman on a regular basis.

“Leave it alone, Slade.”

Slade bristled. “You’re such a fraud, Micah. Here you are, screwing up your own life but you can preach to the rest of us about how to live?”

“I said leave it. I have other worries. My child is also gone.” Micah slammed his hand down on the counter, growling low in his throat. Slade answered the growl with one of his own, in spite of the fact that he was in Micah’s territory. The two men, nearly equal in size, were inches away from one another.

“Both of you, stop it!” Joie’s voice cut into the charged atmosphere. She ran across the room, grabbing her husband’s arm and yanking hard.

“Stop it! I put you back together twice, you stubborn jackass. Don’t make me have to do it again. Besides, I don’t have my medicines with me. Stop it, right now! Malcolm Slade, you stop it! Micah, you had a child with this woman?” Joie’s stunned look seared Micah.

“No, the child is not mine by birth. She was Shelly’s daughter. Shelly and apparently,” he growled at Slade, “apparently Curtis was the father. Had you done your duty by your Pack as Alpha we would have known this by now and none of this would have happened. Talia wouldn’t be at the Compound Pack now.”

In spite of his aggression, Slade gently shook Joie off his arm to shove Micah hard in the chest. “My fault? How is this my fault? You can’t keep your woman or your kid and I’m to blame? Yeah, fuck you, Micah.”

Joie grabbed Slade’s arm again. “You do one more thing to push Micah over the edge, Malcolm, and I’m never sleeping with you again, you great big couchon! And I’m gonna make any stitches I have to take in your sorry hide so tight you won’t be able to bend.”

Slade pushed her behind him, never taking his eyes off Micah. Micah heard her cursing in French, saw Slade’s lips twitch as his anger and frustration disappeared even as his mate pummeled his shoulders with clenched fists. Micah’s own emotions settled to a low simmer. It constantly amused him how easily Joie pushed her much larger mate around, but he knew he’d have been the same if Olivia had stayed. The two women were about the same height, just as he and Slade were separated only by a few inches.

Thinking of Olivia in that light made him realize that he’d been about to come to blows with a man he’d like to consider his friend. Taking a deep breath, but not taking his eyes off Slade’s, Micah backed up a step. Slade raised his head, nodded once, then stepped back himself, pulling his wife around in front of his body and wrapping his arms around her.

“Shh, it’s okay, baby.” Slade leaned down to kiss her neck and Joie stilled, her tirade against both of them stopping as abruptly as it started.

“You’re not going to fight?” She glanced up at her mate, then at him and Micah smiled briefly.

“No. My apologies to both of you. I’ve never fought with a guest in my home and I don’t intend to start today. I’ll check on your room. I leave for New Orleans in four hours. You are all welcome to stay as long as you like. I’ll let Gareth know you’re here.”

He left the room without looking back, the low murmur of Slade’s voice following him. Micah had no doubt that Slade was explaining things to Joie. He only wished someone would explain to him how he could have let his mate leave. He should have convinced her to stay. But short of tying her down on his bed until she accepted what she was, what else could he have done? Now he’d lost his daughter as well.

Soft footsteps and the light fragrance of lilacs told him Joie had followed him.

“Micah, I’ll be going back to New Orleans with you. Tante Kay can watch the babies. You’re going to need your friends close. Malcolm has some business to take care of and he’ll join us when he’s done.”

The steel under the soft voice reminded him that if Joie Landry Slade could wear a wolf like Malcolm Slade down, it would be best for him to just smile and agree. So he nodded his head as her red curls bounced with her responding head toss. Flipping around on her heel, the petite redhead went back to her family.

Micah began to wonder if the world had tilted on its axis when later that afternoon he sat at the wheel of Slade’s rental with Slade’s wife and children packed in around him. Standing on the porch, Slade cupped his mouth and yelled, “You let any harm come to my family and I will tear your head off. Have a good trip.”

The sincerity and incongruity pulled a chuckle from somewhere deep in Micah. Joie looked at him and patted his arm, “You don’t worry now, cher. We are gonna fix this right up.”

Slade stood on the porch until he couldn’t hear the car anymore. He knew Micah would protect his family and he knew better than most that Joie could take care of herself, but this was the first time he’d ever spent any significant time away from her or their children. He missed them already. Determined to make it as short a time away as possible, he slammed back into the house and grabbed the first phone he came across.

“Yeah, I need a cab and a flight to New York today. Can you make that happen? Good.” Hanging up, he paused to run a hand through his hair. One hurdle down, let’s get on with the next one.

He went to find Gareth who sat at the kitchen table looking shell-shocked. He didn’t know much about Gareth, only what he’d heard when he’d first moved in with the Turn Skins. Gareth had left the Pack a few months before his arrival.

“Gareth, here’s the deal. I’m going to New York to try to straighten Micah’s bitch out. You need to tell me how to find her and then you need to put out a call to Micah’s Pack. He might need some backup in New Orleans, whether he wants it or not. For pretty fucking obvious reasons I won’t be able to set foot on the grounds.”

Gareth didn’t ask questions, he knew Slade was officially dead to the Turn Skins. He just nodded and went to work. Slade wasn’t surprised. In spite of Micah’s claim not to be a Pack Alpha, the loyalty Gareth and the other shifters in the area felt for him marked him as Alpha whether he accepted the title or not. Slade listened in as Gareth made a few phone calls, alerting several people in the area to what was happening.

Armed with a work address and phone number, Slade paced restlessly, his mind on his family and the task he’d given himself until the cab to the airport arrived. Micah had saved his ass more than once. It felt good to be able to pay him back at least a little, even if he didn’t know it was happening.

* * * * *

“Olivia Decatur?”

“Yes? May I help you?” Olivia looked up at the stranger standing in her office door, unsure why he was there. He’d only told her assistant the matter was a private one and that he’d take just a few minutes of her time.

Olivia held her breath as he moved into the room, looking at the pictures on her walls before stopping to look out the window at Manhattan. He wore jeans, a formfitting t-shirt and tennis shoes and had a heavy leather coat over one arm.

The way he moved reminded her so much of Micah she had to catch her breath. The pain in her chest at the thought of Micah faded slightly as the stranger faced her again.

“Somehow I figured you’d be a hell of a lot bigger.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just thought anyone who could break someone like Micah would have to be more,” he smiled, showing his teeth and his flashing eyes, “Amazon sized.”

“You know Micah? Did he send you here?”

“I’m no one’s errand boy.” Olivia watched his eyes flicker, saw them turn almost gold before going back to their normal brown. “Micah and I are…” He hesitated, his lip curling slightly as he seemed to carefully choose his words.