Belong To The Night Page 6

  “You know,” Tully relaxed back against an oak tree, his arms crossed over his chest, “it’s one of those things every eight-year-old kid is waiting for when he’s grown up without a father. For his daddy to come back for him. You daydream about, wish on it, pray for it. And here it was, standing right in front of me. I knew he wasn’t lying, I knew he was my father.”

  “What did you do?”

  He shrugged, not sure even today he understood what he’d done that day. “I screamed for Jack. I screamed for my daddy and he came runnin’. Not seven years later, but right then. The Smith Pack with him. I’d never seen so much blood as I saw that day. Momma got hurt, too, fightin’ by Daddy’s side. When it was all over no one was dead but Buck’s Pack had taken the worst of it, limpin’ off back where they came from. But I knew that day, when Jack had carried me back into town and I saw ol’ Buck watching us from the trees before he headed off for good that I was his enemy now. That I’d crossed a line with him that he would never forgive me for.”

  It sounded like some old tale her great-grandfather—whom the entire family referred to as “Big Daddy” although the man was no more than five-two—would have told her during one of the family reunions when her mother and aunt would drive for two days from Long Island to Alabama with two arguing brats in the backseat. The only difference was that the people in Big Daddy’s stories were always full-human and Tully never ended every few sentences with, “ ’Cause you know how those rednecks are.”

  It fascinated her even while her mind worked away at the problem.

  “You think he’s back here for revenge?” she asked but Tully only shook his head.

  “Buck Smith is never that simple.”

  “He wants something.”

  “He wants this.” He glanced around at the trees and up at the beautiful blue sky. “He wants this territory. Smithville is prime territory to our kind and the wolf who ran it before me was my Uncle Tyrus Ray.” Tyrus? “Six-foot-seven and three-hundred-and eighty-five pounds of dangerously unstable wolf, but he could be a big ol’ teddy bear when the mood struck him. He died sudden about five years back and one of his sons, Johnny Ray, took over, but that didn’t go well. He was pushy and testy and one day he just got on my nerves and I…”

  “Beat the hell out of him?” she slipped in when he seemed to be searching for the right phrase.

  “I prefer ‘slapped some sense into him.’ But whatever. Bottom line was when I woke up the next day I was Alpha Male and mayor.”

  “That’s how you became mayor?”

  “No. I was voted in as mayor of Smithville but Johnny Ray got on my nerves at my inauguration party.”

  Fair enough.

  Gazing off, Tully murmured, “I gotta tell Daddy that Buck’s back.”

  “Then what?”

  “I don’t know.” His gaze moved over to her. “What happened when they checked in?”

  “Nothing. Other than I had to walk away and let Sen handle the check-in.”

  “Why?”

  “Wanda…she was wearing that”—Jamie shuddered—“patchouli oil.”

  “Lord, woman, what is your thing about that?”

  “I hate it! It’s my kryptonite. As are women like Wanda.”

  “Women like Wanda?”

  “Yeah. Those hippie, dippy, New Age females I always want to stab in the face. The truth is if I hadn’t met my coven in junior high, I would have been a solitary practitioner. So would Mac. I swear nothing gets on my nerves faster than those Artemis-worshipping, Patchouli-wearing, need-a-goddamn-haircut, shave-your-pits-once-in-a-while, still-driving-a-love-bus, insists-on-calling-me-sister, pains in the ass.”

  Tully stared at her. “But not like you have any strong opinions on the subject or anything.”

  “Maybe a little one. But it’s because of those types that my coven is banned for life from the Green Man Festival.”

  “And I’m sure it had nothing to do with what you were probably up to at the time.”

  “Maybe a little,” she shook her head, “but I still say they were being irrational. I mean they’re all so busy saying they’re drawing down the moon, but they get completely freaked out when someone actually does it.”

  Tully blinked. “You moved the moon out of orbit?”

  She snorted. “Of course not.”

  “Oh.”

  “I just moved the earth a little closer to it.”

  Tully’s arms dropped to his side. “You did what?”

  “Don’t get hysterical. I moved it back.”

  Tully didn’t think it would be possible. Didn’t think anyone was capable of doing it. But Jamie Meacham had managed the impossible. She’d gotten him to think about something other than his father.

  “You’re crazy,” he accused, which was something he didn’t toss around lightly considering his own family history.

  “Not crazy. Just a bit of a show-off. I get so tired of them talking, talking, talking, but not doing. Don’t talk about drawing down the moon. Fucking do it. If that doesn’t work, move the earth closer. Not brain surgery, people.”

  “Did it ever occur to you that moving any planet out of its orbit could cause huge ramifications globally?”

  “I was never really into science,” she said dismissively.

  “Oh. Well then…”

  “Besides, I moved everything back and stopped most of the tsunamis, tornados, and spouting volcanoes before I lost consciousness.”

  Lord, now she had him laughing. Laughing so hard he couldn’t even stand up straight. He didn’t think it was possible. Not until his father was long gone and all was right in the town he loved. But somehow one full-human witch had managed to do the impossible yet again.

  “Yeah, sure…laugh. But let me tell ya, all those hippie-dippy witches with their ‘love solves all’ platitudes and their ‘make love not war’ philosophies are at their very core—totally Stalin.”

  And ten minutes later, when the Elders had finally tracked them down, desperately concerned about what they’d heard through the town rumor mill and wanting some answers from Tully and Jamie on what they were planning—they seemed really concerned when they found Tully rolling around on his back laughing and Jamie snarling at him, “It’s not funny. They were really mean to me!”

  Chapter Six

  “Tell me again,” Jamie murmured softly near his ear, her gaze examining the County Hall boardroom with its fine cherry-wood furniture and board table, “why the Elders insist on meeting at the junior high when you have boardrooms like this one?”

  “Because if they use it too often, it won’t still look so shiny and pretty,” he whispered back. “Duh.”

  They both chuckled, their gazes briefly locking, and Tully couldn’t explain what passed between them, but he’d felt it as surely as if she’d touched him with her hand.

  “Are you two done?” Jack Treharne snarled. Of course, he snarled most things but until this was all settled, until his mate and the town he loved was safe from Buck Smith, the man would be damn intolerable. But Tully didn’t mind because they both felt the same way about the town and about his momma. “Because that bastard wolf is a problem that needs to be dealt with.”

  “I understand that,” Jamie told him calmly, “but I’m not sure what you expect us to do.”

  Jack pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning on and came up to Jamie. “Why the hell not? What’s your purpose here if you can’t do what we tell you to?”

  “I don’t work for you, Jack. I’m more like…free-range protection.”

  “Can’t you set up those wards or whatever you call ’em?”

  “We already have those in place,” Mac cut in from her place across the room. “And we renew them each full moon, but it still doesn’t help with your particular problem.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because the boundaries we’ve created are to keep full-humans away and pure evil out.” Jamie shrugged. “They won’t keep out or harm animals and that pretty much includes you.�
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  “We’re still human. Mostly.”

  “True. But shifters are protected by the same gods who’ve empowered us to create those boundaries. That includes Buck Smith.”

  “So there’s nothing you can do?”

  “I didn’t say that. We can do lots of things. Some of which will leave nothing but charred remains and fond memories. But if he hasn’t done anything to warrant such an attack from me or my coven, I’m only putting our powers at risk.” And Tully knew she’d never do that.

  “Which is what I told you, Daddy,” Tully reminded him.

  “You want him here, don’t you?” And if it sounded like Jack was accusing Tully…he was. “So you can talk through all your bullshit like you’re in a goddarn therapy session.”

  “Old man, I can think of a thousand tortures I’d rather endure than dealing with Buck Smith, but it doesn’t change the fact that we can’t stop him from coming here with his Pack for a vacation.” Which was what Wanda Pykes had told Seneca at check-in but Tully would never be stupid enough to believe it.

  “And if they decide to stay?” Gwen McMahon asked.

  “That I won’t allow,” Tully said simply.

  “And how are you going to stop him?” Jack demanded.

  And Tully answered his daddy the only way he knew how. “Any way I have to.”

  “I could talk to him,” Jamie offered and it amazed her how quiet the entire room became. So quiet she could hear the crows and jaybirds outside the window get into a vicious fight over tree territory.

  “Talk to him about what, exactly?” And what insulted Jamie was the question came from her own damn cousin. Where was the loyalty?

  “Sweetie, I was a cop for years. I know how to do this. I’ll go and check him out, talk to him, figure out what he’s up to.”

  Mac stood beside her now, her arms folded over her nonexistent tits. “Or you can start shit.”

  Insulted, because her loyalty to Tully had grown leaps and bounds in less than twenty-four hours and she’d never put him at risk, Jamie snapped, “I will not start shit.”

  “You don’t know how not to start shit.”

  Jamie turned so she stood toe-to-toe with her cousin. “And maybe you need to back up off me, cuz.”

  “And maybe you need to make me.”

  Jamie raised her hand. Not to hit her cousin but to toss her out of the room with one well-placed spell when Tully reached over and firmly gripped her fingers with his and pulled her in to his side. “I’d love for you to talk to Buck.”

  “Now, see,” Jamie complained, “that sounds like sarcasm.”

  “It’s not sarcasm,” Jack said, watching his stepson. “The idiot actually wants you to do it.”

  “I value her opinion, Daddy.”

  “Like I said,” the older man muttered, turning away. “Idiot.”

  Tully caught a ride with Kyle back to the hotel and Bear met them out front. The witches were climbing out of Jamie’s SUV when Tully asked Bear, “Where are they?”

  The grizzly, capable of catching a scent up to twenty miles away, lifted his head. He sniffed. Once. Twice. After the third, he nodded toward the west part of the resort. “Racquetball court.”

  Tully and Kyle stared at Bear. Buck playing racquetball?

  “Seriously?” Kyle finally asked.

  “Yeah. Seriously.”

  “Okay.” Tully turned in time to see Jamie walking off in that direction. In several long strides he was beside her. “Are you sure about this?”

  “I thought you trusted my judgment.”

  “I said I trusted your opinion. And we’re not talking about either here.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to trust me, Marmaduke.”

  “You make it impossible when you call me that.”

  She grinned up at him and winked as she trudged forward. Tully was keeping up with her when he felt someone grab him from behind and pull him back. He turned and came eye to eye with Mac. “Why do you want to hurt me?” she asked.

  “I didn’t know I was, darlin’.”

  “This can’t go well.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know my cousin.”

  “Was she a good cop?”

  “She was an excellent cop. One of the best.”

  “Then what’s there to worry about?”

  “This isn’t about her helping strangers.”

  “It isn’t?”

  “Of course not. She’s doing this for you guys, which can only spell disaster.”

  “Really? Because it doesn’t seem like your cousin has warmed too much to everybody ’round here.”

  “Actually this is the friendliest I’ve ever seen her.”

  Tully blinked a few times before he asked again, “Really?”

  “Yes. Really.”

  He shrugged. “All right then.”

  Letting out a rather overly dramatic sigh, Mac pushed past him. Tully followed and they quickly caught up to the rest seconds before they made it to the courts.

  Buck was nowhere in sight but his sons were. Buck had at least three sons—that everyone was aware of—and not one of them worth a damn. Of course, they felt the same way about Tully.

  Not surprisingly, they didn’t find Buck’s boys by the racquetball court, but the archery range right next to it. The thought of his idiot half-brother Luther playing with a bow and arrow did nothing but deeply concern Tully.

  Jamie walked up to Luther, smiled. “Is Buck around?”

  “Nope.” Luther already had his bow loaded, the arrow nocked.

  “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

  “Nope.”

  Tully rolled his eyes. Thank the Lord for his momma because obviously his ability to think, reason, and communicate clearly came from her.

  “Is there someone else I can talk to?” Jamie asked. “Because you’re not fulfilling my needs.”

  Tully heard a chuckle and was shocked to realize it came from Bear. The man didn’t laugh about much. It wasn’t in his nature.

  Luther studied Jamie close, then his big, dumb gaze examined the rest of them. There was only Luther and Tully’s two other half-brothers, so maybe he wasn’t in the mood to fight because he politely told her, “Daddy will be back in an hour. You can talk to him then.”

  “Great.” Jamie turned to head back when Luther suddenly raised his bow. Not at her, or even at the target, but straight up. Tully heard that telling cry and quickly said, “Luther. Don’t.”

  The dumb junkyard dog looked right at him—a smile on his face that looked so much like Buck’s—and released the arrow.

  Tully cringed when he heard the arrow hit its target, another cry echoing out as it fell to the ground.

  Jamie stopped in her tracks and turned around, her eyes locking on the large bird no more than five feet from Luther.

  When she only stood there, staring, Tully assumed she was in shock. Until she moved. No. She didn’t go after Luther, although Tully would have loved to have seen that. Instead Jamie went after Seneca—who was going after Luther.

  Jamie reached for her friend, but the little witch dashed around Jamie’s arms and ran right up to Luther. She didn’t say anything, but she did punch him. Right in the chin since she couldn’t reach his face. Luther growled, his hand wrapping around Sen’s throat, lifting her off the ground.

  Mac, Kenny, and Emma moved to each other’s side and Mac raised her hands, flames and lightning dancing at her fingertips. But before she could unleash anything, before she could wipe Luther out where he stood, Jamie made her move. Yet it wasn’t the one Tully expected.

  Because he really hadn’t expected her to press her .380 to the back of Luther’s head. The safety off, her finger firm on the trigger.

  “We’re all going to calm down now,” she said softly, her gun to Luther’s head but her eyes on her coven. “We’re all going to take a deep breath and we’re all going to calm down.”

  Mac’s fingers curled into fists and the flames and lightning disapp
eared into her hands.

  “You’re going to put my friend down now,” she said to Luther. And he did, releasing Seneca immediately. She stumbled a bit when her feet hit the ground, but she quickly turned toward Jamie’s falcon, kneeling beside it.

  Luther was a hell of a shot, Tully would give him that. The arrow had gone right through that bird.

  Keeping his voice even and controlled, Tully said to Luther, “Targets are real specific in Smithville, Luther Ray. Arrows aren’t supposed to be used on anything but the bull’s-eyes down at the other end of this range. You wanna hunt, then you shift and do it proper.”

  “Just wanted to test my skill out, big brother,” Luther said with more than a little bit of sneering to his words. “Nothin’ personal about it.”

  “Good,” a small, tear-filled voice said and Seneca looked over at Luther. “And this isn’t personal either.”

  The petite woman drew her arms back then shoved them forward, a roar to rival any lioness bellowing out of her lungs, and Luther’s body went airborn, flipping back and into the concrete wall of one of the storage units. The other two idiots made a move toward Seneca and Jamie aimed her weapon at the closest one. “Don’t even…” she warned simply. They didn’t, stopping in their tracks, their eyes on her gun.

  Seneca, growling like the most adorable kitten, stood and advanced on Luther.

  Without turning her gaze away from Tully’s kin, Jamie barked, “Kenny.”

  “Got her.” The dark-haired female grabbed hold of Seneca by wrapping her arms around the witch’s waist and lifting her off her feet. Kenny carried her friend back to the hotel, Seneca cussing the whole way.

  Jamie briefly glanced at Tully and motioned to the bird lying on the ground. “Tully?”

  He knelt down and looked at it. He’d be the first to admit he didn’t know anything about birds except which tasted good with barbeque sauce and which tasted better with lemon and butter, but he did know when something was alive and when it was dead.