Im Zack Drummond, Ms. Hauptman. Id be grateful for a room tonight, but after that, Id rather find my own place.
All right, I said. Im headed out there at five thirtyusually it was closer to six thirty, but usually my husbands ex wouldnt have been running around in my territory that used to be hersif you want to catch a ride. I cant officially welcome you to the pack, thats my husbands job, but we dont have a submissive in our pack, and we could use one.
If I cant find another way out, he said, Ill be here at five fifteen.
He hesitated, started to say something, then hesitated again.
What is it? I asked.
What are you? he said. You arent fae or werewolf.
Im a shifterNative American style, I told him. Better known as a walker. I change into a coyote.
His eyes widened and, finally, rose to examine every inch of me. Ive heard of your kind, he said finally. Always thought they were a myth.
I smiled at him and gave him a salute. A few years ago, and that would have been the pot calling the kettle black, Mr. Drummond.
Zack Drummond didnt show up at five fifteen. Five thirty saw me fretting because the Beetle wasnt done, and Id promised it would be finished at eight the next morning.
Go home, Mercy, said Tad, who was on his back working on the undercarriage of the Beetle. Another hour, and Ill have it buttoned up and done.
If I stayed, it would shave fifteen minutes off, I told him.
One of his booted feet waggled at me. Go home. Dont let that bitch steal your man without a fight.
You dont even know her.
He slid back out from under the car, his face more oilcolored than not. Ears sticking out a little, his face just this side of homelyby his choice. His father was Siebold Adelbertsmiter. Tads mother had been human, but his fathers blood had gifted him with glamour and, from things hed said, a fair bit of power.
I know you, he told me. Im betting on you. Go home, Mercy. Ill get it done.
Hed been working in this shop when he was just a kid. He might be thirteen years younger than me, but he was at least as good a mechanic.
Okay, I said.
In the oversized bathroom, I stripped out of my overalls and scrubbed up. The harsh soaps that cut through the grease and dirt have never
bothered my skinwhich is good because I use them a lot. Not even industrial soap could get out all the ingrained dirt I had on my hands, but my skin tones hid most of that.
A glance in the mirror had me unbraiding my hair. I ran a comb through itbraiding it when it was wet gave it a curl it didnt have normally. Nothing was going to turn me into a girly girl, but the curls softened my appearance a little.
I was almost out the door, and Tad was back under the Beetle, when he said, When Adams ex drives you into making sweet things with chocolate, just remember I like my brownies with lots of frosting but no nuts.
I opened the front door to the smell of bacon and the sound of sizzling meat.
Adam, Jesse, and I shared kitchen duties, taking turns making dinner. Tonight was supposed to be Jesses night, but I wasnt surprised that the only person in the kitchen was Christy. Her back was to me as she cooked in the kitchen shed designed.
Shed been angry, her daughter had told me, that Adam had insisted on moving all the way out to Finley instead of building in one of the more prestigious neighborhoods in West Richland or Kennewick. Hed given her free rein in the house to make up for the fact that hed wanted the house next to my trailer because Bran, who ruled all the weres in this part of the world, had told him to keep an eye on me. In addition to ruling hundreds and maybe thousands of werewolves, Bran had been the Alpha of the pack my foster father, Bryan, had belonged to. That had occasionally left Bran with delusions that he had a right to interfere with my life long after Id left Montana and his pack behind.
Christy was shorter than me by a couple of inches, about the same size as Jesse. The body in the blouse and peasant skirt was softly curved, but not fat. Her hair, brown when Id last seen her, was now blondstreaked and Frenchbraided in a thick rope that hung to her hips.
Could you find some paper towels, Jesse? she asked without turning around. Theyve been moved, and I have bacon ready to come out of the frying pan.
I opened the cabinet that held the paper towels exactly where she probably had put them on the day she first moved in. I hadnt changed the organization of the kitchen. Too many people were already using it, so it made more sense for me to learn where everything was than for me to reorganize it to my tastes.
So Christys kitchen was exactly as shed left itstill hers in spirit if not in truth. Her presence in my kitchen felt like an invasion in a fashion that the Gray Lord whod been here in the wee hours of the night had not, despite his intentions.
Christy knew I wasnt Jesse, I could smell her tensionwhich was sort of cheating, so I didnt call her on it. Also, accusing her of lying right off the bat didnt seem like a good way to make peace with her.