Chapter 7
HANNAH HUNCHED over the make-shift picnic table, hands curled around a steaming mug of coffee. Sally sat in a webbed folding chair pushing Grace Marie in a baby swing hung from a sturdy branch belonging to the spreading magnolia tree providing shade. Liam and Cody worked diligently on adding to the haphazard fort they were building. Micah knelt on the opposite bench concentrating with a ferocious expression. Great swirls of color decorated the page of the coloring book in front of him.
Liz glanced at her son’s handiwork and rolled her eyes. “He’s definitely his father’s son. Michael doesn’t color inside the lines, either.”
A snort escaped Hannah a moment before lifting her cup to her lips. Jacey laughed out loud. “Do any of them?” Her phone pinged and she grabbed it to check the text message. Casting a glance toward the boys, she leaned in so only the adults could hear. “They’ve found a source for intel on San Rios. They know where the girl is.”
Annie perked up, her expression hopeful. “Then maybe they will make it back in time.”
Hannah held no such hope. She knew all too intimately how quickly a mission could go downhill and considering the fly-by-the-seat-of-the-pants planning of this operation, she remained pessimistic. Which made her just that much more determined to provide the kids with a big, memory-making Christmas.
“Do you have the list?” She directed the question to Annie.
“Not on me. I left it on the fridge in the RV.” She glanced over her shoulder to gauge the interest the boys were showing in the adults. “Be right back.” In a louder voice, she added, “Anybody need anything while I’m up?”
Staring into her coffee as if trying to divine the future, Hannah mulled over the situation. Something wasn’t right. Was it possible Black Root had already regrouped and this whole thing was a ruse? She couldn’t call Tala or Nakai to ask for the truth, unless heaven accepted collect calls. She barely knew Tiva Hosteen, their daughter. Honi was simply a shadowy memory of a girl standing in the circle around a large bonfire.
Did she trust Carter? Considering their previous run-ins, probably not. But Mac did. As did the rest of the Wolves. And she trusted their instincts. If someone held a gun to Carter’s head, she figured the gruff old sergeant would tell them to pull the fucking trigger.
Liam howled, an ear-splitting screech that raised the hair on everyone’s necks. Grace Marie screamed, her face screwed up as tears rolled down her cheeks. Micah joined in with his own yowls and arm-waving tantrum. Cody was flat on his back, the older and bigger boy straddling him. Liam’s face contorted and the front of Cody’s jacket shredded where Liam gripped it.
Hannah hit her son with a flying tackle, knocking him off Cody. Annie was there in an instant, grabbing her frightened son into a protective embrace. Jacey knelt beside Hannah and Liam as she half-listened to Cody’s explanation.
“I didn’t mean it, Momma. I didn’t. He was holding the nail and I hammered, but I missed or something, and then he yelled and…and…” The little boy gulped and only then realized his clothes had been ripped. “Momma,” he wailed. “My Saints jacket. It’s ruined. You worked so hard for the money. Oh, Momma.” He clung to her, sobbing. “I hate him. I hate him, Momma. I do. I really do.”
Jacey placed her palm on Liam’s forehead, surprised by the heat radiating from his skin. “Easy, Liam. Just breathe, okay.” She cast a worried glance at Hannah, who was still fighting to contain the boy as he lay sprawled on the ground. “Hannah, he might change if we don’t get him to calm down.”
Nodding grimly, Hannah swallowed her fear and anger. Where the hell was Mac? He was supposed to be here for this. This was his job. Not hers. Izzy stood nearby, agitated but not quite wringing her hands.
Hannah stared at the woman, coming to a decision. “Call Antoine. Get him here ASAP.” Orders. Hannah could give orders. She looked down at her son’s face. Anger and pain radiated from him.
“Hey, buddy. Listen to Jacey, ’kay?” She schooled her voice to sound soft, to not reveal how upset she was.
“Where’s Dad?” The words were guttural, almost unrecognizable. “Promised.”
“I know, buddy. I know. That’s why you need to breathe through this, just like Jacey said. Let her help you for now. You can hold on to yourself. Your dad said there’d be times like this. When you got mad. Or hurt. Can I see your hand?”
She steeled her reaction as he lifted his arm. Dark hair sprouted and claws curled from his fingertips. The bruised flesh wasn’t difficult to see. Taking a chance, she raised Liam’s hand and kissed the spot. “Do you remember when you were little and I kissed your boo-boos away?” He nodded so she continued. “I’ll always be there to kiss them for you, Liam. No matter what. Okay?”
His eyes remained fixed on her face so she continued. She didn’t know what Jacey was doing but it seemed to help. “Breathe in and out, Liam. Nice and slow, like your dad taught you.”
“And Rudy.”
She smiled. “Yes, and Rudy. He and your dad talked about that. They are both so proud of you. And I know Izzy is too.”
Kneeling on the side opposite Jacey, Izzy touched his shoulder. “You were my knight in…well…almost furry armor.” She laughed, the sound rich and deep like the bayous where she grew up. “You are about the bravest boy I’ve ever met, cher .”
Liam flushed from embarrassment not the fever. He turned pain-filled eyes to his mom. “It hurts. So bad. I just want to get it over with.”
“I know, buddy. Antoine will be here—” She glanced over at Izzy for confirmation, relieved as the other woman nodded. “Soon. He’ll help you keep your wolf at bay until your dad gets home.”
Deep down, she knew Mac would hate himself for failing Liam in this one thing. Guiding his only son—only child… Hannah clamped down on the bitterness of that thought. Guiding Liam through his first series of changes was a sacred duty to Mac. If he missed it? If some other man had the honor? A shudder she couldn’t disguise ran through the length of her body. Liam noticed and winced.
“Shhh, buddy. It’s not you. I was thinking about your dad. We’ll figure this out. I’ll find a way to make sure he’s here.”
Liam closed his eyes so he wouldn’t see the lie in hers. She brushed the hair off his forehead, relieved that his temperature had spiked and was even now cooling. On impulse, she bent and planted a kiss on his sweaty skin. “That’s a promise, Liam.”
And it was. If she had to hijack a fucking plane, fly to New Mexico, and drag Mac’s sorry ass back to Louisiana then she damn sure would do exactly that.