Good thing wild dogs were fast runners.
Smitty did really well until the young cub climbed up onto his shoulders and bit into the back of his head. Slowly, he faced Ronnie Lee, who seemed engrossed in a gossip magazine.
“Ow,” he said.
Ronnie Lee glanced at him, but her eyes widened when she saw Brendon Shaw’s son trying to turn him into a meal.
“Oh, crap!” She tossed the magazine, pulled herself to her knees on the couch, and grabbed the cub off Smitty’s head. “Erik! We discussed this. Wolves are not for eating.”
When she pulled him away, Erik screamed and fought to get back to Smitty.
“I think he likes you.”
Smitty held his arms out. “Give him here.”
Before Ronnie could do anything, Erik charged back over to him, slamming his small body right into his chest.
Smiling, Ronnie said, “Kids love you.”
“It must be my charm.”
Unprompted, the cub in his lap began to howl. Loudly.
Ronnie placed her hand over Erik’s mouth. “Shush!” she ordered in a loud whisper. “I told you not to do that when your daddy’s in the house.”
“Ronnie Lee, what have you been teachin’ this cat?”
She shook her head. “Nothin’.”
“Ronnie Lee... ”
Ronnie grabbed her magazine and settled back into the couch, ignoring his chastising tone. “So what’s your grand plan here, Bobby Ray?”
“My grand plan?”
“To trap you a wild dog this weekend. That is why we’re here, isn’t it?”
“Lord, Ronnie Lee. I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing.”
She turned on the couch to face him, pulling her feet up so her toes grazed his thigh. Neither was too surprised when Erik grabbed them. For a toddler, he already seemed to have quite a few fetishes. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, one second I’m thinking, ‘She’s mine. She’s always been mine and I’m taking her.’ Then the next I think, ‘She’s not strong enough. Not to be part of the Smiths’.”
“You don’t know that, Smitty.”
“When I went after that bear, she hid behind a tree.”
Ronnie snorted. “I would have hid behind a tree unless you needed me.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“Smitty, every female in Smithtown knows—you never get between a Smith male and a regular fight. Ever. Sounds to me she was smart. Not weak. I won’t say it’s easy being part of the Smiths. But if she’s the right girl for you, neither of you may have a choice.”
“I know that.”
“I do have to say, she’s grown up real pretty, Bobby Ray.”
“That she has.”
“Pretty and still innocent enough to shame the angels.”
Smitty smirked. “Not all that innocent.”
“Why, Bobby Ray Smith, you’re gonna make me blush—Ow! Erik! That’s my toe, boy. Watch those teeth.”
As wolf, Sissy Mae sauntered into the room, the females behind her. She yipped at Ronnie Lee and motioned to the door with her head.
“Y’all go on now.” Smitty pulled Erik off Ronnie Lee’s feet. “I’ll watch Erik.”
“Are you sure?” She raised her eyebrows, letting him know she could still talk but not saying it because then Sissy Mae would demand to know what they were talking about. And even worse, she’d try to “help.” Nothing worse than Sissy Mae trying to help. She’d thought she’d helped last night when she sent him to Jessie’s apartment.
“Go. I’ll hunt tomorrow.”
“Thanks, darlin’.” She kissed his cheek and walked over to the door, opening it and letting the other She-wolves out. Then she shifted, shook off her clothes, and followed them outside.
“You sure are good with cats—for a canine.”
Dez sat down on the couch opposite Smitty, her son asleep in her arms.
“Not as good as you, my sweet Dez.”
“Well, darlin’, you lack the equipment for that.”
He laughed and the boy in his arms laughed with him.
Smitty looked down at the toddler in his lap and grinned at him. “You really are cute for a Shaw, ain’tcha?”
In response, the boy threw back his head and howled again. Seemed he liked doing that a lot.
Unfortunately, the snarl of rage behind him suggested to Smitty that Brendon Shaw did not agree.
Smitty smiled up at the male lion standing behind the couch—seething. “Hey, Shaw. Nice house you’ve got here.”
Arms crossed over that massive chest, the lion looked down his nose at Smitty as only a cat could. “What else have you taught my son? How to chase his tail? Lick his ass?”
“Nah, I stuck with the cat basics. Park lazy ass under tree, sleep twenty hours, eat all the food after the females do all the hunting, take a few minutes to roar, then sleep another twenty hours.”
When the cat flashed those fangs, Smitty was smart enough to shut the hell up even while Dez burst out laughing.
Sitting out here on the porch, staring at the snow, Jess asked Johnny her usual litany of questions. How was school? Did he like it? Was he getting along better with the other pups? Did he need new boots? A new violin? Exactly how much did those Stradivarius ones cost? And how exactly did he get past the killer orc on level fifteen without having the plus-twelve dexterity magick armor?
She really never stopped talking, his Jess. Of course, none of them did. Even the males talked—constantly. Johnny liked his quiet time. He liked to sit and think. Just be. He didn’t think the wild dogs had it in them to just be. They either slept or talked. No in between for the wild dogs.
But they were his, weren’t they? His family now. His Pack. True, when he shifted he was already about two times bigger than the biggest wild dog, but that didn’t change what he knew.
He was home.
Johnny turned to the woman he’d come to quietly care so much about, silently debating whether he should actually tell Jess that when she suddenly sat up straight in her chair. Her eyes scanned the woods; her ears twitched.
She’d heard something she didn’t like. Wild dogs had killer hearing. They should. When shifted, they had the biggest ears imaginable considering their slight size.
Jess growled, her gaze locked on the forest in front of them. “I want you inside, Johnny.”
Christ. He was seventeen tomorrow. Maybe it was time to start treating him like an adult. “Yeah, but—”
“Now!”
Startled by Jess’s yell, Johnny headed into the house. As he went in, a majority of the Pack adults ran out, already shifted. The adults who stayed behind shifted and stood on the porch or directly in front of the house. A few took up positions in the back.
Johnny knelt on the couch with the other pups and watched through the big picture window as the adults charged off into the woods.
“Someone,” Kristan muttered next to him—smelling delightful as always—“is going to get their ass kicked.”
Sissy Mae got her teeth in the deer’s neck and flipped over, taking the animal with her. Ronnie Lee wrapped her jaw around the throat and crushed the windpipe. It eventually stopped moving, and the She-wolves settled down to enjoy an early lunch.
They didn’t plan to linger. They’d crossed into wild-dog territory, and although Sissy didn’t really worry, she still knew in her gut that her brother had come here for another shot at Jessie Ann. She wouldn’t ruin that by embarrassing the dogs on their own property.
So when Ronnie Lee lifted her head and scented the air, Sissy assumed it was the dogs coming to investigate. But then she caught the scent, too, and heard the sound. That laugh-howl. Her head snapped up and she saw them come out of the trees. Not a full Clan, only about ten, but enough to cause a problem. She snarled and the She-wolves left off their meal, surrounding it. The hyenas came for the food. But they’d have to fight for it. Sissy Mae Smith didn’t give up her kills to anybody.