Call of the Highland Moon (The MacInnes Werewolves #1)

Call of the Highland Moon (The MacInnes Werewolves #1) Page 54

Regan snorted and relaxed into the pillows. “Speaking of, when do I get to stop babysitting the shop for you? Jemma’s doing fine … though she does seem to take a sort of sadistic pleasure in running Chris around … but I would like to get back to being a simple baker. I’m not, as they say, management material.”

Carly raised an eyebrow. “I never really saw you as Simple Simon, either.”

“Well, I’m no Carly Silver, apparently. Sugar and flour don’t ask silly questions about release dates and continuing plotlines, and that’s just fine with me.”

Carly tucked her knees up in front of her and smiled. Regan had proven herself more of a sister than a friend in the last few weeks, calming her worried parents at her abrupt departure, looking after Bodice Rippers for her, and generally holding together all the loose ends back home until Carly could get back to tie them up herself. She didn’t know what she would have done without Regan, and had told her so.

Regan, of course, had agreed.

“Soon,” Carly replied, tucking a loose wave of hair back behind her ear. “I’ve been handling a lot over the phone and online, but it’s not really a substitute for being right there. We’re thinking right after New Year’s.”

A burst of hearty male laughter echoed out from the kitchen, turning both women’s heads toward the rich sound.

“What about Gideon?” Regan asked. “Doesn’t he have to stay here?”

“Duncan’s decided he’s not quite as ready to throw in the towel as Alpha as he thought he was.” Carly shook her head, rolling her eyes. “MacInnes men, I am learning, on top of being astoundingly hard-headed, also thrive on stress. It’s like air to them. So we’ll spend some time here, more there, for the time being.”

And it was true, Carly thought with wonder. Rather than making him back down, the new twist to the Lia Fαil with the belligerent and mysterious Drakkyn had invigorated Duncan. He and Malcolm were constantly plotting, discussing strategy, and as far as she could see, enjoying the hell out of every minute of it. There were already plans for a massive Pack gathering for New Year’s, a prospect Carly both looked forward to and dreaded. The MacInnes werewolves were to have a new purpose, one they would undoubtedly, from what Gideon had said, embrace.

That she was one of those werewolves was still something Carly was adjusting to, though with Gideon’s patient instruction and the unexpected joy she found in her other form, that was getting easier all the time.

Regan smiled. “Good. Just don’t get too bogged down in your marital bliss. Otherwise, who’ll I bitch to about my sucky love life?”

“I bet Gabriel would let you cry on his shoulder.”

Regan’s eyes narrowed as her gaze returned to her friend. “Don’t think about it,” she said flatly. “I have enough jerk problems without adding the supernatural element to the mix.” She sipped at her wine, stared into the glass morosely. “No pun intended, babe, but I think you got the pick of the litter. Gabriel MacInnes is very obviously in love … with himself. Plus, I caught him sneaking a bite off of my Bϋche de Noλl earlier. Jackass.”

Carly didn’t exactly agree, but she kept that to herself. “I’m sure he could be reformed.”

Regan uncoiled herself from the couch, slim and striking as always in the burgundy cashmere sweater Carly had gotten her as a gift. “If you had about a hundred years. Which I don’t. I do, however, have an empty glass and a grumbling stomach. Wanna see if the menfolk have charred the turkey yet?”

“Nah, go ahead,” Carly said with a soft laugh. “I’m more interested in my mom’s traditional Christmas spaghetti, anyway.”

“You mean we can only have one?” Regan quirked a smile back at her, started to go, then turned back, suddenly serious. “Hey, I hope you know … you guys are my family, Carly. Being here means a lot to me. So …”

Carly held up her hands to ward her off, even though her eyes were already starting to water. “Regan, damn it. If you go all After School Special on me right now and get me going again, you’re going to get it. And by the way, I love you too.”

Then it was Regan who laughed, squeezing Carly in a quick hug and giving her an exaggerated smooch on the cheek before wandering off to the kitchen in search of food.

Carly reclined, resting her head on the striped silk pillows and closing her eyes, enjoying the relative quiet, the faint sounds of continuing chatter and laughter coming from the back of the house, and the delicious smells she’d always associated with the holidays.

Well, except for burned turkey. That would be a new one.

Later, she and Gideon would walk back to his house … their house, she corrected herself, though it was hard even now to wrap her brain around that … and curl up together in bed, making their own warmth in the cold winter night. And though she loved the bustle of her family, right now she looked forward to that the most.

As though she’d summoned him with a thought, Carly suddenly found herself lifted, then settled into Gideon’s lap as he gave her a sweet, tender kiss and nuzzled at her hair.

“Mmm,” he breathed.

“I love the yummy noises you make when you sniff at me, Gideon.”

“Get used to it,” he chuckled, shifting her so she could rest her head against his shoulder. “You’re missing all the fun. Dad’s somehow burned that bloody turkey he insisted he knew how to cook, and your mother and Harriet have banded together to throw him out of the kitchen. I’m pretty sure they’re about to start beating him with wooden spoons.”

She opened one eye to make sure he was serious. He was.

“Not the spoons.”

“Not to mention that Regan just threatened to shove her lovely cake into various orifices of my brother’s that I’d rather not think about.”

“Hmm,” she sighed contentedly, relaxing into him. “No, I think I’ll stay right where I am. I like this better.”

“You’re not sorry, are you?”

Carly opened both eyes this time, puzzled at the worry in Gideon’s voice, on his face. “Sorry? For what?”

“Sorry about what happened. That you’re never going to be as you were.”

“Gideon.” She placed a hand on each of his cheeks, stroking them, enjoying the rough feel of a face that always seemed to be in need of a shave. “I wouldn’t want to go back. My life was okay before. But this is so much better. Because I have you.”

He cracked a faint smile, but the honeyed depths of his eyes were still unsettled. “Me. And a bit more than that.”

“Yes. And to be perfectly honest, I like that too.” She grinned. “Not that I plan on sharing it with my mother anytime soon. She’s said enough Hail Marys on my behalf.”

Gideon looked at her intently, searching. “You’re sure?”

Carly thought about the handful of times she’d Changed since that first horrible night, the purity of emotion, of thought, when she could roam as a Wolf. The care that Gideon took with her as she adjusted to what she’d become, guiding her, coaxing her, occasionally now even playing with her like a rough-and-tumble puppy. And she was sure.

“It’s like when I’m with you. I’ve never felt so free.”

Gideon let out a relieved breath that warmed Carly to her toes. That her happiness could mean so much to this big, beautiful man was something she intended to cherish every day for the rest of her life.

“Good. Because tonight I want to show you some of my favorite places. I want you to run with me.”

Carly imagined it, running like a breath of wind along the shore under the Highland stars, exploring all the hidden and moonlit glens tucked deep into this place Gideon’s kind, her kind, called home. She found she was already looking forward to it.

But there was one thing she needed to ask him, something she’d been afraid to ask since they’d emerged from the chamber of the Stone of Destiny. Since he’d nearly lost his father, and buried a man he’d called friend.

“Gideon … the Drakkyn. Do you think they’ll come back?”

His voice was soft, and sober, when he replied. “If they do, we’ll stand together. All of us. There’ll be no more secrets in the Pack from now on. After all, we’re not just protecting the Stone anymore.”

Carly turned to kiss him, thought of the way he’d looked that night when she’d found him, noble, brave. A leader. And she was so proud to call him hers.

“A bunch of werewolves protecting humankind. Nobody would believe it.”

He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Nobody has to, as long as we do it well.” He stood, drawing her to her feet and leading her away from the couch with her hand in his.

“Don’t worry, love. It’s Christmas. And you and I have all the time in the world.”

Carly kissed him once more, then walked with him into the welcoming warmth of family and friends, ready to begin their future together.

And hoping, with all her heart, that he was right.

In the violet darkness of another night, a door swung open.

And Mordred Andrakkar smiled.