Technically it was my daughter’s fault and not mine, but I seriously doubted that the love of my life, US Supervisory Marshal Sam Kage, would see it that way. But really, it was. Hannah Banana––B for short––had wanted bunny ears for Easter. I looked everywhere without success because by the time she decided she wanted them, and the kind she wanted, everywhere close to us was sold out. So, because I’m a sucker for my sweet kid, I took the afternoon off to call around and find ears.
Since it was Good Friday and the kids were already with me at the office, once I found a place that said, “Sure, we have some,” I put both my daughter and son in the minivan, and we drove out to Northbrook. It wasn’t far, at one in the afternoon only 45 minutes, and we easily found the place that sold costumes and a ton of other stuff, as it turned out to be this enormous warehouse called Masquerade Emporium. It was huge, the kind of superstore that probably did a bustling business at Halloween but otherwise, people just trickled into.
They had more costumes than I’d seen in years, and so I assumed that there had to be bunny ears in the place somewhere. It wasn’t the cleanest establishment I’d ever been in, and smelled a bit like mothballs. Kola, who had just learned about germs in fifth grade science, wanted a hazmat suit and a ventilator.
“Pa, it’s not clean in here,” he informed me, clearly revolted.
“Oooh, do you think they have a sonic screwdriver?” Hannah happily asked. She was the only one in her class that had a Doctor Who lunchbox and thermos. She wasn’t watching the kind of TV the other second graders did. She could not converse about Hello Kitty or My Little Pony, but ask her to draw you the Tardis, and she was right on top of that.
“I don’t think so, B,” I yawned, walking down the aisle that the texting clerk had directed me to.
“Pa, we’re going to go down the aisle with the werewolf masks,” Kola said as he followed his little sister, informing me of their destination. It was funny how much like Sam he was, cautious and deliberate. Hannah was more like me, all about leaping and then looking to see if there was a net there.
“Wait.”
Both of my children stopped to look at me.
“We should all go together.”
Kola sighed heavily, as though I were simply too tedious for words. “I’m nine now, and Hannah’s seven,” he explained gravely, as though I were not aware of these facts. “We’re not going to run away or be stupid enough to go off with a stranger.”
“Yeah, but––”
“And we’re together, Pa. You don’t have to be right next to us anymore, as long as we’re in the same general vicinity.”
Vicinity. Who taught him these words? “I just worry.”
Hannah gave me her most patronizing smile.
“We know,” he said, nodding sagely. “But Dad said that we need to start being more independent. It’s why he’s teaching us how to survive in the wild.”
Which had nothing to do with anything but Sam wanting to take his kids––and me––camping. Fishing, making a fire, those things were fun for the marshal. I had drawn the line at hunting, and with Hannah becoming a vegetarian, Sam wasn’t going to convince her to shoot Bambi either. Kola wanted to learn to shoot, but not at animals. He wanted to go target shooting because when the zombie apocalypse hit, he wanted to be ready.
“Pa?”
They were waiting on me as my mind drifted. “Fine, but not too far.”
Kola rolled his eyes.
Chapter One
Aries (Captain)
"Fuck, shit, dammit!" I clenched my hands into fists to keep from slamming them against the dashboard. This was a rental, and I didn't think the Elite Force would want to foot the bill for my aggressive outburst. Then again, they wouldn't be getting many more bills from me. Not if this went like I wanted it to.
I sucked in the cool early morning air, taking a moment to breathe through the rage like my appointed therapist had instructed me to do. My jaw ached from the pressure and movement. It felt so tight I wouldn't be surprised if soon it simply snapped in two, right off its hinges, leaving me with a floppy horror movie mouth.
But at least the breathing distracted me from my non-functioning leg. For half a second. I yanked the keys out of the ignition to stop the relentless dinging and grabbed onto the door ledge. Pulling my left half, I negotiated my injured leg out of the car. It had been a long drive from Morningwood to Monterey, and I'd chose to drive straight through, rather than take breaks like my doctor suggested.
I was so close to being rid of Golden Bone, though—and my current life—the idea of stopping, delaying that for even a moment, felt unacceptable. My days with the Elite Force were numbered, and once I transferred Golden Bone's remains to the right person and out of my life, all the other parts of me that had refused to heal would start to do so. They had to.
All I had was this one last task. Captain Stellers was too smart a shifter to take over my team without first making sure the most notorious hitman to ever enter Morningwood was completely taken care of. Golden Bone. The golden retriever shifter hitman who moonlighted as a serial killer was cursing me even in death.
He'd met his end, brutally, but not before leaving a wake of destruction behind him. I was still alive. I was one of the lucky ones. But I wanted my life from before, the one where I could walk and move freely, without pain. The life where I didn't need to see the bottom of a bottle of whiskey to fall asleep and where my muscles didn't twitch at the slightest sound or movement.
Which was why I found myself parking on the side of a quiet street with large, fenced-in homes. Stately oak trees lined the sidewalk, their branches breaking up the bright blue sky that stretched overhead, decorated with large, puffy white cloud formations. This was a road where nothing bad happened. I almost couldn't believe anyone related to Golden Bone could live here. Finding a next of kin had been nearly impossible. Everyone at the station told me to just forget it, to let the hitman's remains rot in the holding storage. But even knowing his ashes were in the same city as me would not do. That, and Stellers wouldn't take over otherwise. He was a dot your i's, cross your t's kind of guy.
I hadn't told my team I was leaving. They'd put on airs, pretend to be surprised or disappointed, but we'd all been waiting for this day. Ever since Golden Bone snapped my leg in two and made me a fool in front of my team.
I shut the car door and stepped onto the sidewalk, wincing. Just a few more steps became my personal mantra. The leg wouldn't stop hurting—nothing could make it do that—but it would loosen up. My body would remember after the long drive in one position how to compensate with my other limbs.
Most people would still be bedridden after the injury I'd sustained. A double compound fracture with torn ligaments and tendons on both ends. That was fancy talk for Golden Bone stepped on my leg hard. The bones stuck through my skin, and then he shook them like a dog with a bone. Except—jokes all around—as a golden retriever shifter, he had literally been a dog with a bone.
The break had been bad enough. The torn ligaments on both sides were worse. Even my enhanced shifter healing was having a hard time bringing me back to one hundred percent. I was beginning to think I simply didn't go that high anymore.
"Harlow!" an urgent whisper came from ahead. "Harlow, get back here. No! Don't you—!"
I checked the street address, noting the whispers were coming from behind the fence of the home I was walking toward.
Fear, as jagged as broken glass, lodged into the top of my throat. Was this Golden Bone's next of kin? What sort of person would I find? They were a paranoid sort, proof from the fact that they refused to come to Morningwood alone and would not even entertain the idea of signing for the ashes unless I could personally ensure their safe travel.
If there had been any way to mail the remains, I would have. But the mayor had been adamant that we do things by the books—despite the fact that nothing had been done that way before this point—which meant this person was required to come to Morningwood and personally sign the documents that would transfer ownership.
"If you don't get over here right now, that's it, Harlow. No cookies for lunch. No Peppa!" the voice threatened.
I couldn't be sure, but I thought the person was either a man trying to sound quiet while being loud or a woman who had smoked most of her life. At the thought of smoking, I patted my shirt pocket, relieved by the small cardboard lump I found there.
Quitting the first time had been difficult, but after the attack, those deathsticks were the only thing that kept me sane when the sun was out.
I'd made it to the front gate. The fence was double layered with staggered wrought iron poles that made it very difficult to see inside unless a person stood at the exact right angle. I tried to look in before pressing the intercom button, but all I saw was a bundle of movement. Someone wearing a puffy jacket in the middle of an expansive yard.
On the other side of the fence came a trilling noise. I pressed the intercom again. The noise happened a second time.
"That's—oh no," the voice said. "Harlow! Harlow!" The person on the other side had reached panicked levels.
The Elite Force agent inside of me urged me to remain calm so that the person on the other side would be calm. I guessed I should be impressed that someone could still sound more panicked than I felt. That had to be why I wanted to soothe them. I knew what it was like to feel like you were stuffed into skin too tight that was slowly shrinking even smaller.
"Excuse me," I called out loudly. "I'm on the other side of the fence and can hear you." There was no answer so I kept speaking. "I'm the one you've been corresponding with." Still no answer. "Regarding the remains?" Bile rose up my throat, and I swallowed it down. The taste still lingered, sharp and acidic.
"Yo-you're with the Elite Force?" the voice asked timidly.
"I'd like to discuss that inside if I may." No one who lived on this street was supposed to know the Elite Force existed. Our duty was to keep the unique all-shifter town of Morningwood safe and, most importantly, a secret from non-shifters—normal humans—or as we called them, normies. Golden Bone had landed on the Elite Force's radar by using his shifter abilities to kill people for money. It had been only a matter of time before he would've been caught by the normie FBI and then who knew what secrets he would've told.
He wouldn't be talking now. Or hurting anyone else.
"Are you alone?" the person asked.
"Yes, as you requested." I'd nearly canceled the whole trip when the next of kin had asked that I come by myself. It had felt unnecessarily dangerous, but up until that point in our communication, my contact had simply seemed frightened, but earnest. Now they were standing on the other side of the gate, and I was even more curious about what type of a person this was. A type with a pet—I could assume that much already.
"Do you see the lens on the gate? It's nestled inside the zero in the address plate."
I peered more closely at the gate. Sure enough, inside the zero there was a small camera lens. "I see it."
"Stand exactly four feet back with your body directly in front of the camera. Arms stretched out to your side."
I did as he asked, hoping the additional strain on my leg that standing in that position gave me didn't show on my face. I waited that way for five seconds. Another five, and my left leg began to shake—a precursor to giving out entirely—and then—
"Stand back. The door swings out."
I didn't need to shuffle back, but I did. The door opened, revealing a wide, deep green lawn. Behind the lawn was a sprawling garden with bushes that lined the walk way and so many different kinds of plants I was momentarily awed. A garden this size and vibrancy must've taken a lot of work, dedication, and talent. It managed even to outshine the stately mansion behind it.
Standing to the side, looking utterly out of place with his multiple layers of dark clothing, black cap, and sunglasses stood a man. I could only assume he was my contact. Juxtaposed against the vibrant background, his unassuming presence only piqued my curiosity further.
"Are you Golden Bone's next of kin?" I asked quietly once the gate had closed behind me.
"Golden Bone," the man spat. "That's a dumb name." He spoke with so much hatred, so much vitriol, I didn't think he could be talking to me. "He probably loved it," the man said.
"And you are…?" I prompted, stepping closer. My contact had given me very limited information.
For every step I hobbled closer, he slunk back like a cat toward a mouse. "My name is Arthur. You already know I'm related to the d-deceased so I don't see why I need to give you any more information."
True. The task of finding someone related to Golden Bone had been difficult. From what we knew of him, he came from an affluent shifter family that did not grow up in any of the more common shifter towns. No place was quite as secure as Morningwood, but Dix Wallow was another popular shifter town, as well as a few others.
Golden Bone had never wanted for money—hadn't even needed the fees he'd collected while working as a hitman. While that fact had narrowed the list, it hadn't pointed toward any place or family in particular. After a while, I'd focused only on the rich families that weren't answering my calls.
Eventually, I'd crossed every name off my list except for an old number for a home in Connecticut. I'd spoken to an elderly woman who had given me a forwarding address which had led to another vacant house with another number to call that turned up an old email address, and the rest was history. And honestly, even if Arthur wasn't Golden Bone's next of kin, if he could just pretend long enough to take the ashes away, I'd be fine. I'd done my job and could wash my hands clean of the situation. Finally.
"My name is Captain Aries Canis. I am—"
"Your actual name is Captain?" Arthur asked.
"No. I am a Captain. I command a team. I'm in the Elite Force. We protect our town from outsiders. It's all very important work…" Why couldn't I shut up? And I wasn't going to be a captain for much longer anyway. "You know what, forget the captain part, just call me Aries."
"Hmm, Aries," Arthur repeated. He brought his hand up to the top button of his shirt. I spotted at least two other layers beneath that one. He worried at the button. "God of war or astrological?" he asked, and something about his tone made me wish I could see his eyes more clearly.
"Astrological," I replied.
"Hm," Arthur replied.
That single noncommittal noise filled me with so many questions. Who was this man, really? What was his connection to Golden Bone? Even with the glasses on and a pale beard covering some of his face, I could make out his tense, fearful expression. He wore clothes like they were a suit of armor, as if he could put on enough dark layers to protect himself. But from what? I let my eyes travel over his body. There wasn't much I could make out, not through the jacket, button up and undershirts. He was an average height, but stockier than most shifters, and I would've wagered that a luscious ass lurked beneath those slacks.
I cleared my throat. I'll take inappropriate musings for a thousand.
"Were you looking for something?" I asked. "When I walked up?"
"Oh! Shi-oot!" He spun from me, inching toward a large oak tree in the corner of his yard. It was so large, I'd seen the branches hanging over the fence from the other side. "Harlow!" he shouted, running to the trunk and looking up into the branches above. "Stay there. Don't move. I'll get the ladder, and…"
I walked up behind him, peering up as well. There, nestled among the branches, was a tiny bunny with fur made of every shade of brown. Its miniscule ears stuck straight up on either side of its head. The animal couldn't have been very old at all and looked down at us with black, unblinking eyes.
"Your pet?" I asked.
Arthur gave me a double take, and I couldn't tell if he was more shocked by my sudden presence beside him or the bunny stuck in the tree.
"I've heard that they aren't great climbers but can climb. He should make his way back down."
"She's a she," Arthur replied. What I could see of his face had lost a considerable amount of color.
If this was freaking him out so much, I didn't see why I should let it continue. I reached for the tree. The bunny squeaked as Arthur snagged my arm. His fingers felt hot and pressed firmly into my skin.
"What are you doing?"
"Going to get your pet. You want her right?"
He pulled me back, letting me know that while his voice and mannerisms seemed timid, he was strong. "I'll do it," he said uncertainly. "She'll just hide from you."
I stepped back. I wasn't going to fight this, I'd just wanted to help Arthur relax a little, and he'd seemed unable to do that with his pet in the tree.
He took a deep breath and started to climb. I could see immediately that, like bunnies, he also wasn't much of a climber. He reached for a branch, and when I saw he meant for it to hold his weight, I stepped forward, opening my mouth in warning.
The branch snapped before I got a sound out. Arthur fell back. I caught him but wasn't prepared for the sudden change in weight, and my left leg gave out from under me, causing us both to tumble to the ground. Thankfully, I was able to turn my upper half to absorb the bulk of the force, but Arthur scrambled like I had my arms around him to kidnap him. He ripped his body from my embrace so quickly it knocked his sunglasses of his face.
At least now I'd be able to see—
The same eyes that had been haunting me for weeks.
"Golden Bone," I hissed, my hand going to my waist. I didn't know if I was reaching for a weapon or my radio, but neither was attached to my belt. One blink later and I was back to that night from my nightmares, frozen cold, hunched over Malcolm Amari's dining room table, paralyzed from the drug Golden Bone had slipped us. "You—you're dead." I still sounded like a tire quickly losing air.
Arthur pulled his hat off, revealing a head of golden locks, the exact shade of Golden Bone's but not near as long. "I'm not him. Though I can tell by your reaction he's hurt you too. His name isn't Golden Bone either. It's Artemis. He was my brother. My twin brother."
"Twin?" I echoed.
Arthur's face twisted into a scowl. "Give or take a hundred pounds." He gave a short, humorless laugh.
All that told me was that Arthur had seen Golden Bone before his demise. And not many people alive could say that. "Did you know about what he was doing?" I asked sharply. Even if he didn't take part, knowledge of his brother's crimes should put him in prison for a long time.
"Of course I did," he snapped, but he sounded more tired than angry. "I always found out, after. Always after. Do you think I would've let him get away with anything if I'd known before?"
I was going to reply that I didn't know him so I didn't know what he was capable of when I noticed a brown shape soaring through the air.
Arthur also noticed a split second after me. He shouted, "Harlow!" and reached for the runaway bunny.
Using my good leg, I hopped up, managing to pluck the tiny creature from it's trajectory before it slammed into the ground.
Arthur shouted again, like I'd done the wrong thing.
I turned to tell him I was just worried about the thing breaking its leg when I felt it move and wriggle in my hands. I looked down, watching the bunny morph from a furry baby animal to a child that couldn't be older than two. She continued to shift, back and forth from bunny to child. I recognized the response. It wasn't all that uncommon in shifters during periods of heightened stress. Particularly immature or juvenile shifters. What was odd, however, was that this shifter was nowhere near puberty, which was the generally accepted age when shifters were first able to transform into their animal counterparts. Some were able to a little earlier, but earlier by months, not by eight years.
Arthur snatched the child from me, cradling her to his chest. She relaxed immediately. Her shifts grew less frequent until she gave a tiny sigh and settled into her human form.
I stared at the odd pair. One the twin brother of a devious hitman and the other a child with abilities that shouldn't be possible. "What the hell is going on here?"
Chapter 1 - Daniel
“They must let only the sweetest omegas work in candy stores, am I right?” the alpha leered at me, leaning over the counter and slightly into my space.
I put on what I hoped was more a customer service smile than an actual grimace. “I wouldn’t know.”
He walked his fingers across the counter, close enough to my hand to make me want to slap it away, but not touching. “How about you tell me what time you get off work, and we can find out.”
I glanced at the total on the register. “That’ll be twelve seventy-seven please.”
He blinked. “What?”
“Your total: twelve seventy-seven.”
His demeanor changed instantly as he stood and reached for his wallet. “Tch.”
I accepted thirteen dollars, and grabbed the change. “Twenty-three cents is your change, sir.” I then passed him the bag of chocolates. “Please come again soon.”
He snarled and snatched the bag before turning and almost stomping from the shop with a muttered, “Bitch.”
I waited until the door closed behind him before releasing a sigh of relief.
Mount Chocolate had been featured in some online news article listing the best omega-led candy stores in each state. Since its publication we’d seen an increase in business, both good and bad.
Mason loved seeing all the families with children drive out to taste his creations, and had even developed some new treats. Luckily, that was the majority of the clientele increase.
Then there were the other new customers: rude alphas who thought that omega-led meant open to flirting. Most of them said things that sounded like compliments on the surface, but were actually horribly condescending. Phrases such as ‘It’s a good job for a bunch of omegas’ and ‘It’s amazing what omegas can do nowadays,’ were some that I never wanted to hear again.
“You ok?”
I turned to see Mason standing in the arch between the front and the kitchen. I sighed. “Just another alpha who thinks that I owed him my number because he bought some chocolate.”
Mason frowned. “Sorry man.”
I shook my head. “Not your fault. You didn’t know that damned article was coming out.”
“No. But it’s been hardest on you, since Andrew and I tend to be in the back making the chocolates.”
I pulled off my gloves and tossed them in the garbage. “I just wish the damn alphas would leave their damn dicks at the door. Maybe then they could act like civilized people.”
Mason chuckled. “Want me to hire an alpha to be on the counter so that you have more backup? The sales are up enough to justify it.”
I shook my head. “Thanks, I got it. It’ll probably start to die down in a few more weeks.”
“I could get you some fake bonding bite temp tattoos,” Mason teased.
I rolled my eyes. “And scare off the alphas I might actually be interested in?”
Mason frowned. “Last I checked you weren’t even looking, and I don’t remember the last time you talked about hitting up the bars.”
I scowled at him. “So?”
Mason held up his hands. “Hey man, I’m not one to talk, you know how long I was single. Sorry for being insensitive.”
I sighed. “No. I shouldn’t have snapped. I think I’m just sick of pushy alphas thinking that this is a hookup spot rather than a place of business.”
Mason smiled. “I’ve got some deliveries ready to go. How about you take them and I’ll man the counter.”
“You sure?” I asked, withholding my sigh of relief.
“Yeah. The alphaholes get snippy about bonding marks, but it’s usually enough to get them to lay off. Even if they could find a willing omega, which is hard enough already, it can’t go any further than a quick fuck.”
I managed a small smile. “A delivery run sounds perfect then. At least our regulars don’t try to get into my pants.”
“I’ll get you the list.”
“Thanks man.”
“No sweat. Just let me know if they’re too much, ok? Andrew or I can switch out, or I can still hire an alpha temp.”
“I think I’m just moody. My heat’s in a couple weeks, and you know how hard they are on me.”
Mason nodded. “Yeah, I know. Go on, before another alphahole comes in.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
Mason laughed. “Get.”
He tossed me the keys to the work van, which he’d been able to buy after the number of deliveries ramped up following the article. He then yelled into the back. “Hey Andrew, Daniel’s taking the delivery. Help take it out will ya?”
“You got it boss!” Andrew yelled from the back.
I was nearly past Mason when he stopped me. “You’ve already got some time scheduled for that wedding, and you have more coming. Why not tack a few more days off onto it and relax some? It’ll be tight around here, but most of the Easter prep is done. Andrew and I can keep up with the front and making enough chocolate to maintain the stock.”
I was about to refuse, but realized it might not be such a bad idea. Maybe a few days away could help me clear my head.
“You know?” I replied. “I’ll think about it.”
Mason smiled. “Do. I’d rather have you out a few extra days than have you stressed and burnt out.”
“Lord knows I’ll be stressed after several days with my extended family.”
Mason laughed. “You want family stress? Remind me to tell you about my mother-in-law.”
“Fuck no!” I laughed. “That bitch is crazy.”
Mason grinned at me. “Go on, and think about taking an extra few days.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
Andrew had almost finished loading up the van by the time I got outside. I gave him a wave, climbed in and started the engine.
I pulled onto the main road and headed toward one of the small office buildings. But my thoughts were only marginally on driving.
Instead my mind drifted to the upcoming wedding, which Mason had unfortunately reminded me of. At twenty-nine I was the oldest of the cousins still without a mate, and my busybody relatives were always trying to set me up.
A few days to wind down from their constant nagging wouldn’t be the worst idea.
Heck, it wouldn’t be so bad if they could even present somewhat palatable choices. But they thought I needed a big strong, overbearing, alphahole in my life.
No thank you.
Besides… my heart belonged to only one alpha. He just didn’t know it.
