Chapter 14 The Ordinary Magic of Chosen Family
THE ORDINARY MAGIC OF CHOSEN FAMILY
MICHAEL
One minute I was driving, thinking about nothing more complicated than the inventory reports Daniel had asked me to review. The next, the engine made a sound like a dying animal, the check engine light flickered on with what felt like personal malice, and the whole thing shuddered to a stop.
“You've got to be kidding me.”
I tried the ignition. Click. Nothing. Tried again, because apparently I'd become the kind of person who believed doing the same thing twice would produce different results. Still nothing.
I sat there for a moment, hands on the wheel, staring at the dashboard like it had personally betrayed me.
The truck was old, sure. Had been making concerning noises for weeks.
But I'd been putting off getting it looked at because there was always something more urgent, always another project demanding attention.
Stupid. Anna would have dragged me to the mechanic weeks ago, would have given me that look she had when I was being stubborn about things that obviously needed fixing.
I pulled out my phone, scrolled to Daniel's number. Hesitated.
It was a work day. He had a million things to deal with that were more important than my automotive incompetence. But I was supposed to be at the mill in twenty minutes, and walking wasn't exactly an option when the mill was another eight miles down the road.
He picked up on the second ring.
“Michael.” His voice was warm, slightly surprised. “Everything okay?”
“That depends on your definition of okay. My truck just died on Route 7, about three miles from the mill. I'm going to need a tow, and probably a ride if you can spare someone.”
“Shit. You alright? Not hurt or anything?”
“Just stranded and feeling stupid for ignoring the warning signs.” I leaned my head back against the seat. “Sorry to bother you with this. I know you're busy.”
“Don't apologize.” I could hear movement on his end, the creak of a chair. “I'll send Evan to pick you up. He can get your truck to Gideon's garage, they'll figure out what's wrong. You still good to work today or do you need...”
“I'm fine. Just need a ride.”
“Evan's on his way. Twenty minutes, maybe less if he ignores the speed limit.” A pause. “Which he will, because it's you.”
Something warm spread through my chest at the implication. That Evan would hurry because I mattered. That I'd become someone worth hurrying for.
“Thanks, Daniel.”
“Anytime.” His voice dropped slightly, went softer. “I'll see you when you get here.”
He hung up, and I sat in my dead truck feeling stupidly pleased about a conversation that had been entirely practical. This was what my life had become. Getting warm feelings from the Alpha of a werewolf pack offering to send his son to rescue me from automotive failure.
Evan showed up in eighteen minutes, which meant he'd definitely been speeding. Nate was in the passenger seat, because apparently they'd reached the stage of their relationship where neither of them went anywhere alone if they could help it.
The tow truck from Ward's Garage pulled up behind them, Cal hanging out the driver's side window with a grin that suggested he found my misfortune deeply entertaining.
“Engine trouble?” Cal called out. “Let me guess. You've been ignoring the check engine light for at least a month.”
“Three weeks,” I admitted.
“Close enough. Pop the hood, let's see what you've done to this poor vehicle.”
While Cal assessed the damage, Evan and Nate wandered over. They moved in sync without seeming to notice it, shoulders brushing, Nate's hand finding the small of Evan's back like it belonged there.
“Dad.” Nate's grin was sympathetic and teasing in equal measure. “You know the check engine light exists for a reason, right?”
“I'm aware.”
“And you know ignoring it doesn't make the problem go away?”
“Also aware.”
“Just checking.” He bumped my shoulder with his. “Evan's going to give you a ride to the mill. Cal's taking the truck back to the garage. Gideon will probably lecture you about preventive maintenance.”
“Looking forward to it.”
Cal emerged from under the hood, wiping his hands on a rag. “Alternator's shot. Could be worse. Probably have you back on the road in a day or two, depending on parts.”
“How much is that going to cost me?”
“Enough that you'll remember to listen to warning lights next time.” But Cal's expression was kind beneath the teasing. “Don't worry about it. We'll work something out. Family discount.”
“Thanks, Cal.”
“Thank me by not destroying any more vehicles through willful neglect.” He was already hooking up the tow chains, moving with the efficient competence of someone who'd done this a thousand times. “Now get out of here. Some of us have actual work to do.”
Evan's truck smelled like pine and coffee and something distinctly wolf, that wild undercurrent I'd learned to recognize in all of them. Nate had claimed the middle seat, which meant he was pressed against Evan's side with no pretense of personal space.
“You know there's a whole other seat,” I observed, climbing in.
“This one's better.” Nate didn't even look apologetic. “Better view.”
“The view is identical.”
“Not from where I'm sitting.” He grinned, and Evan's hand found his knee without looking, squeezed once before returning to the steering wheel.
They were ridiculous. Completely, utterly ridiculous in the way that only people deeply in love could be. Every touch casual, unconscious, like their bodies had forgotten how to exist without contact.
“You two are going to give me cavities,” I said.
“That's what Cal says.” Evan pulled onto the road, checking mirrors with the careful attention of someone who'd been driving since before he could legally do so. “He's threatened to start charging us a sweetness tax.”
“He's just jealous,” Nate said. “His last relationship was with a woman who turned out to be married. To his cousin.”
“That's... complicated.”
“Hollow Pines is a small town. Everything's complicated.” Nate shifted slightly, pressed closer to Evan in a way that looked entirely unnecessary and completely intentional. “Speaking of complicated. You coming to the pack run tonight?”
I blinked. “I was invited?”
“You're always invited.” Evan's eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “Dad mentioned it last week. The full moon run, out by the northern boundary. Humans can't participate in the actual run, obviously, but you can be there for the gathering beforehand. The bonfire.”
“It's actually really beautiful,” Nate added. “Watching them shift. The way the pack moves together. And afterward, everyone comes back to the fire and there's food and stories and...” He trailed off, expression going soft. “It feels like family. The good kind.”
I thought about it. About standing at the edge of something ancient and wild, watching Daniel become wolf, watching Evan and the pack run through darkness with moonlight on their fur.
About being included in something that had nothing to do with me and everything to do with the people I'd somehow become connected to.
“Yeah,” I said. “I'll be there.”
Nate's smile was bright enough to light the whole truck. “Good. Dad needs more reasons to relax. You're good at making him relax.”
“I'm not sure that's true.”
“It's extremely true.” Evan's voice was matter-of-fact. “He's different around you. Lighter. Like he actually remembers he's allowed to enjoy things.”
“He gets this look,” Nate agreed. “Every time someone mentions your name. Like he's trying not to smile and failing.”
“You two are making things up.”
“We're really not.” Evan glanced at me in the mirror again, and his expression was knowing. “My dad's been alone for a long time, Michael. Longer than he should have been. And whatever's happening between you two... it's good for him. We're glad you're sticking around.”
The casual acceptance of it, of whatever this thing with Daniel was becoming, made something in my chest crack open. Not painfully. Just making room.
“Thanks,” I managed. “For saying that.”
“Just the truth.” Evan turned onto the road that led to the mill, and I could see the familiar outline of buildings through the trees. “Now. Fair warning. Dad's been checking his phone approximately every thirty seconds since you called. Try not to let it go to his head.”
Cal had beaten us to the garage somehow, probably through shortcuts only locals knew, and was already deep in conversation with Mason about parts and labor and whether my truck was worth saving or should be put out of its misery.
Gideon stood at his workbench, doing something with metal and tools that looked entirely normal until you noticed the faint shimmer in the air around his hands. He looked up when we walked in, assessed the situation with sharp eyes, then went back to his work.
“Alternator?” he asked without looking up.
“That's what Cal said.”
“Should have it fixed by Wednesday. Thursday at the latest if we need to order parts from Portland.” He set down whatever he was working on, finally giving us his full attention. “Next time, don't ignore warning signs. They're called warnings for a reason.”
“I've been informed.”
“Good.” His expression softened slightly. Almost imperceptibly. “You need anything in the meantime? Loaner vehicle?”
“Evan's giving me a ride to the mill. I can figure out the rest.”
Gideon nodded, then his attention shifted to Evan and Nate, who had gravitated back toward each other the moment they were out of the truck. Nate was saying something quiet, and Evan was listening with his whole body, leaning in like Nate's words were the most important thing in the world.
“You two planning to stand there all day or are you going to be useful?”
Nate didn't miss a beat. “We're providing emotional support. Very useful.”
“Emotional support doesn't fix alternators.”
“No, but it improves morale.” Nate grinned. “Cal works faster when he's happy. We make him happy by being adorable.”