And I’d never try to say I understood something that seems to prey pretty hard on Pack people. But maybe I can relate a little. I wasn’t exactly super-thrilled to come out here.”
“No? It seemed to me to be much more your idea to come than someone else’s for you to leave.”
“Yeah, but consider the someone elses! I left because I finally realized I was afraid to leave. And I was afraid to leave because I was afraid they’d—Boo and Greg—let me go. I knew I’d be the pathetic roomie who forces connections when you’re not roommates anymore. The guy who never, ever lets you off his Xmas list and who, when he’s in town to visit, insists on lunch and pretends you’re still really close. I couldn’t face it, not any of it, so I stayed. And stayed, and stayed. I’m an object at rest that loves remaining at rest.”
“You think you didn’t want to leave?” Rachael asked. “Try being raised in a Pack society with mega-strict hierarchies and being told to leave.”
“Sounds sucky,” he agreed. “Say, you’re not one of those people who feel compelled to one-up every story you hear, are you?”
“I absolutely am. I can never resist. It’s a huge compulsion for me.”
“I’ve never hated someone I’ve loved so much . . . Listen, so Mrs. Cain, she just cracked up? From being so lonesome and missing the Pack? What if that happens to you?”
“It’s rare.”
“So? I don’t want something awful and rare to happen to you. If we need to move to Werewolf 90210, or whatever the hell you guys call it, then we’ll move. We’ll move tonight if you want.”
“I’m fine, idiot. I was explaining something that happens very occasionally under horrific circumstances. We don’t need to rent a U-Haul right this minute. Oh, that reminds me. I’ll be in season this time next week, so when we have sex, I’ll probably get pregnant. We should keep that in mind when we’re looking for a permanent residence. I love my hobbit hole, but it would be crowded for two, never mind three.”
“And on that note,” Berry said, rising, “I think I’ll head out. Thanks for your time. Oh, and thank Mr. . . . nuts, he told me his name, but I—”
“Call me Jim,” he said, stepping on the porch. “You gotta leave now?”
“Well,” Berry said, eyeing the plate of brownies so fresh out of the oven they steamed, “not right this very second . . .”
“It’s nice when stuff can get wrapped up like that, huh?” Edward said.
“I’m not sure I consider this stuff wrapped up. But a few explanations are better than none at all, I guess. At least we—”
Edward sat bolt upright, horrified. “What? What?” Rachael tried to look in five directions at once.
“Boo! I forgot all about Boo! She’s trying to get a flight out here and I haven’t called or checked my phone or—oh, fuck! Oh, she’s gonna kill me. Oh, shit, I’m dead. I am a walking, talking corpse. Except not a vampire. Or a zombie. No, they’re the lucky ones when you compare them to what she’s gonna do to me. Ah, jeez, I told her all about Marc the zombie and . . . oh, fuck!”
“What’s a boo?” Berry asked thickly, reaching for another glass of milk.
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Epilogue
“You want to explain to me why there’s a “Sold” sign in my landlord’s front yard?”
“Really?” Her cousin’s voice on the phone, deep and amused. “You need an explanation? You can’t make that deductive leap all by your lonesome?”
“Michael . . .”
“Because that would make you a terrible accountant.”
“Michael!”
“Well, it would.”
She ground her teeth. “There was never a ‘For Sale’ sign, so how could it even be sold?”
“Before you even went out there, when I talked to Cain and Cain talked to them, they’d discussed wanting to sell their family home—too big for them for years—so they could retire more and move to North Dakota.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Oh, sure it does, what with the real estate market being in such a slump. They were smart not to bother listing until the market began to recover.” Then, softly, to someone else: “Two minutes, honey. Then Daddy will push you on the swing. Gotta finish with cousin Rachael.” Louder: “Lara says hi and she loves you.”
“You know what I mean, you deliberate goob, and tell Lara I love her, too. And what is this retire more? And who retires in any capacity in order to end up, on purpose, in North Dakota?”
“The way I got it from Cain—may she rest in peace or burn in hell as long as she’s gone forever—these two aren’t very good at retiring.”
“They’ve made a lot of pies in the two weeks I’ve been here,” Rachael admitted.
“So they wanted to retire more, and build their dream home in the most beautiful place they knew, which happens to be in the state of North Dakota beside the lake where they’d honeymooned.
“After Cain was out of the picture and I heard that, I found out what fair market value was for their home and made a cash offer, which they took. They never even had to list their house. Which, by the way, is now your house. So now you can sleep in the turret. Or sell it. Or keep it and rent it out.”
“Or sleep in the turret,” she said excitedly. “We can fit a queen-sized bed in there!”
“Oooh, a shared turret, I’m impressed. I wasn’t sure Edward was turret-worthy.”
“Shut up. Stop calling me. I hate you.”
“You called me, cousin.”
“Oh, yeah. Right. Well, thanks for the turret and the house around it.”
“Thanks for befriending powerful allies and killing a threat to our Pack.” His voice deepened as all traces of teasing fled. “Rachael, truly. A house is a poor thank-you for what you’ve done for the Pack, and for me. But it’s yours, and the title is in your name, so as I said, if you and Edward want to return to the Cape, you can sell it or not as you like.”
“I’m not sure the Cape is ready for our return, Michael, but I’ll keep all that in mind.”
“I am so grateful for all that you did, and so sorry for all that you suffered. Two weeks ago I already owed you more than I could have ever repaid.”
“We’re family, dumbass.”
“Exactly so. You already meant the world to me, and now look! Unbelievable! I am rich, Rachael, in all things. And I have you to thank for an awful lot of that. Who besides me has an accountant who can analyze a P and L statement as easily as she shatters cervical vertebrae?”
“Gross, Michael.”
“I’ll want to meet your mate,” he added thoughtfully. “Happened right in front of him and he didn’t have a nervous breakdown. I won’t deny being impressed.”
“He did have one. He just waited until I was done with mine.”
“Truly, a match made by the gods.”
“I hate you.”
“Just sayin’.” Ah! That was better. Now he sounded more like her cousin and less like her Pack leader. “So what’s up next for you?”
“Gotta go tell my man he’s sleeping in a turret for a while.”
“If he’s anything like you’ve described, he’s probably got his Star Trek posters all over it.”
“Star WARS, Michael, get a clue.”
“Sorry.”
“Well, I hope so!” she cried. “That’s a pretty big thing to fuck up.”
“Very, very sorry.”
“Okay, then.”
“Okay.”
“And Michael?”
“Yeah, cuz?”
“It’s possible we’ve been sleeping in the turret because I sent the son on a month-long all-expenses-paid cruise vacation with his fiancée.”
The Pack leader roared laughter and dropped his cell phone. By the time he picked it up, she was long gone, and in more ways than one.
Titles by MaryJanice Davidson
UNDEAD AND UNWED
UNDEAD AND UNEMPLOYED
UNDEAD AND UNAPPRECIATED
UNDEAD AND UNRETURNABLE
UNDEAD AND UNPOPULAR
UNDEAD AND UNEASY
UNDEAD AND UNWORTHY
UNDEAD AND UNWELCOME
UNDEAD AND UNFINISHED
UNDEAD AND UNDERMINED
DERIK’S BANE
WOLF AT THE DOOR
SLEEPING WITH THE FISHES
SWIMMING WITHOUT A NET
FISH OUT OF WATER
Titles by MaryJanice Davidson and Anthony Alongi
JENNIFER SCALES AND THE ANCIENT FURNACE
JENNIFER SCALES AND THE MESSENGER OF LIGHT
THE SILVER MOON ELM: A JENNIFER SCALES NOVEL
SERAPH OF SORROW: A JENNIFER SCALES NOVEL
RISE OF THE POISON MOON: A JENNIFER SCALES NOVEL
EVANGELINA: A JENNIFER SCALES NOVEL
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
Thirty-eight
Thirty-nine
Forty
Forty-one
Forty-two
Forty-three
Forty-four
Forty-five
Forty-six
Forty-seven
Forty-eight
Forty-nine
Fifty
Fifty-one
Epilogue
Titles by MaryJanice Davidson