Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
RAMONA
I fought the urge to push my sleeves to my elbows, gritting my teeth as they, inevitably, became dirty from the garden soil. The sun was mercifully obscured behind a sheet of gray clouds, and I held the pruning sheers steady. With Sylvie’s instructions in my mind, I snipped the stem of the ripe jalape?o pepper that had surpassed green and was beginning to turn red. I passed it from my gloved hand and tossed it into the wicker basket beside me.
“Aren’t these usually green? Does red mean there’s something wrong with them?” I asked absently, bobbing my head to the light music playing from the bluetooth speaker.
My sister-in-law remained facing the tomato plants that grew on wooden trellises against the old white house. I paused my harvesting to watch her run an assessing hand over the fruit. Though the warm weather and summer storms helped the garden tremendously, sometimes she would break out her powers to help the spoils ripen.
Or just for fun. Either way, I watched small, barely-there tomatoes turn into full, plump globes at her silent command. The breeze rustled the curls that escaped her topknot, as if an equally silent acknowledgment from the earth.
She barely had to give the tomatoes a twist before they released into her palm, and she placed them in her own basket. “No, when they turn red, the flavor changes a bit. Your brother likes the sweeter and spicier taste for certain dishes, so I promised that I’d let some ripen a bit longer for him this time.”
I nodded, turning back to gathering all the peppers that were how my brother had requested. After riding with Sylvie to drop the babies off, we’d spent the morning at her grandmother’s old house, where the air seemed charged, humming with some energy that I couldn’t name. It wasn’t unsettling, necessarily, but like the amplified version of how it felt to be around shifting Wolves or Sylvie when she performed a spell.
Though it was still blistering hot, the simple work held the fog at bay to where it was only tendrils of gray at the edges of my thoughts. Stirring and muttering despondence at all hours, all times. Here, though, it was overpowered. Even with my muscles tense from hours bent over tending to the plants, hot air pressing on me from all sides, I was… content.
At least, until I pulled my arm from the basket, settling in to snip off another pepper, and saw the giant fucking spider on the back of my hand.
“Holy fuck!” I squealed, trying to fling the ginormous black and yellow terror off of me. The embarrassing squeals and whimpers were inescapable, and apparently, so was the spider. The thought of squishing it was equally as unpleasant, and I shot up, stamping my bare feet and wiggling my arm, trying to get it off, off, off.
Sylvie came running over, hands outstretched. “What’s wr—be careful!”
“No, no, please, get it off, that’s fucking huge?—”
“Shh, shh, she didn’t mean it.” To my express horror, Sylvie steadied my forearm with a touch that was strong enough to stop my squirming. She offered a palm, to which the spider quickly retreated and settled. To take that a step further, Sylvie passed a gentle fingertip over the spider’s back, and leaned her ear closer to it .
I shook out my arms, knocking off the imaginary spiders that were crawling all over me. Sure, the depression was far from my mind now , but it was replaced with watching my sister-in-law whisper and listen to the vile thing. Was this worse? Yeah, this was worse.
Sylvie nodded down at the spider, as if they’d come to an agreement, which was crazy. My heart was still threatening to beat out of my ribcage, and when she extended her arm a little, to let me get a better look at the thing, I scrambled back a good three steps. Or ten.
“This is Petunia. She said she’s sorry for scaring you.” I swatted at my arms again, making sure there weren’t like—fucking eggs or something on me. “She’s lived here for a while now. Since Josie and I enhance the garden through the winter, she’s survived the past two freezes here and helps us a lot by munching on the pests.”
My hand was absolutely not shaky when I ran it along my scalp, trying to calm my breathing. “This is crazy. Sylvie, you’re talking to a spider who could have killed me .”
The spider was crawling around her forearm, like it didn’t have a care in the world. No, I knew crazy, and this was downright insane.
“Uh, it’s about as crazy as your brother and mother being able to turn into wolves. And I am talking to her. She was just curious. She was born here, and she’s never met someone that’s afraid of spiders before.” Petunia trailed down to Sylvie’s fingers that were a shade or two darker than mine and stayed still while Sylvie lowered her back into the garden bed. I kept my eyes on the black and yellow thing, making sure that it continued to wander away from me.
Realizing that I’d almost scrambled out of the garden area completely, I took a step closer. Sylvie laughed, and I frowned, slowly returning to my basket. “You know, Ollie lets her take rides on his shoulder while he runs around.”
Just the thought of that made me shudder and compulsively check that mine were spider-free. “And my brother allows that? You truly have him in your thrall.”
She fluttered her fingers in my face, giggling loud and light when I batted them away. “You better believe it.”
I scoffed, and after triple checking that no spiders were laying in wait, I got back to work while Sylvie wove through the plants, boosting with magic any that looked like they needed a little something. Which, there wasn’t much, but the heat these past few days had been pretty brutal with summer in full swing. The garden behind the cabin was tended more regularly, but from what I understood, this was her grandmother’s garden, a decades-old endeavor that she was determined to keep thriving.
After I had a basket full of jalape?os, the plants had all been watered and pruned, and we were both slick with sweat, our rhythm was broken by Sylvie’s phone ringing.
I gathered our tools, packing up for the day.
“Okay, baby. Are you sure you’re okay?” That got my attention. Orion and the elders were supposed to be meeting with the Serafim Group today. I’d overheard my brother discussing more details about the shifters who were looking to open a few locations of their business on Antler Pointe Pack territory, and I was guessing by the concern in Sylvie’s voice, it hadn’t gone as well as they’d hoped.
Fully leaning into my eavesdropping, I stilled and could make out what my brother was saying on the other end. The acoustics of the call were as if he was in the car. He sighed, “I’m fine. We’re going back to Vera’s to discuss all we learned today. Are you sure you don’t mind picking Dahlia and Ollie up from school?”
“Of course not. Do you need anything?”
His blinker clicked beneath his voice. “No. I love you.”
Sylvie’s smile was soft as she fiddled with the delicate gold necklace she wore, “I love you, too, baby.” They exchanged more routine information before hanging up, about when O expected to have dinner ready and their desire to both read to the babies tonight, and I mentally added this to my list. Number Ten felt heavy, in a good and somber way. My brother, though busy with all his responsibilities, was happy and loved, and it was a blessing to be witness to it.
I screwed my face like I’d tasted something bad— that spider has truly fucked with me .
She hung up with my brother, and once we had all our things put back in the small and neatly organized shed, we locked up the house and filed into Sylvie’s car and started toward the Montessori school. Full, dark clouds started to push away the lighter wisps that’d covered the sky earlier. Even with the windows up, I could feel the thickening in the air with the impending afternoon storm.
Flyers reminding parents of the quickly approaching end of the school year lined the sidewalk and entryway leading inside, and a worried thought lodged in my throat before I swallowed it back down. Sure, I wouldn’t be taxying the babies to and from school, but summer break would involve having to entertain them even more, right? Yeah, no, it’d be cool.
We were allowed back, closer to the main space that held the most play and learning areas. All the furniture was child-sized and a pale wood that provided a subtle undertone to the splashes of colorful toys, books, and plants that lined the windows. The older children had more formal classrooms, and I absently remembered that Delaney had said that was the age group he worked with.
“Mama!” There were at least two children shouting for their mothers, but I could pick out Ollie’s voice and scent anywhere. It was a perfect combination of my brother and Sylvie’s—a calm and cloudy winter morning just before snowfall.
He was an early walker but managed to not fall as he tottered over to us. Dahlia must’ve heard or sensed our arrival because she was quick to make her way over, beating Ollie with her much more coordinated sprint. Her scent was slightly different than her brother’s, the height of a cold and bright afternoon.
We checked both children out for the day and made our way to the car. They babbled excitedly, Dahlia in full sentences and Ollie with his own baby noises and screeches, and I settled into the passenger seat, content to listen and let their happiness stand in for my own.
While rain sprinkled lightly upon us, I helped Sylvie get them in the house, their snacks prepared and presented, and coerced them both to short naps to tide them over until bedtime. Dahlia, thankfully, didn’t fight it, but she tried to stall as we walked her to her bedroom.
“Auntie Mona, what are those?” She pointed a little finger that I followed toward the front door. I craned my neck to see what was new, what she might not be able to identify, and all I came up with were my pink roller skates. I supplied her with the name after picking her up. Her lips pursed in toddler contemplation, and I startled with how much she looked like my brother. Her red french braids bumped against her shoulders as I walked her down the hall and into her room. “Can I try?” she asked while I tucked her on top of her comforter and reached for her blanket at the foot of the small bed.
“Well, they’re my size, so they’re too big for you.” I braced myself for her to start begging to have her own pair, but instead, she pouted and nodded sleepily. I gave her a quick kiss on her head and left her to sleep off the hours at school.
But as Sylvie and I sat on the patio, enjoying the last patters of the quick summer storm, I kept turning over what Dahlia said. I’d gotten my first pair of skates when I was around her age. While I’d learned in the smooth, sprawling driveway at home and at the rink, I might be able to teach her the basics at the park.
Eventually, my brother came home, greeting me with a grunt and Sylvie with a kiss before he started his own routine that helped him reset after a day of work. When he came back outside with his two wide-awake pups, I watched him play and tire them out all over again in the yard.
We ate dinner out there, sandwiches with homemade bread and fruit and chips. Number Five was one of my favorites, and I focused in on the scents of my brother’s land. The people, the earth, the heat. Let it fill me until there was no room for anything else.
“Did Vera’s go well? Is everything all right?” Sylvie asked while the kids ran about the yard, trying their best to catch fireflies. Dahlia tried to direct her brother who just swatted aimlessly at the glowing insects.
Orion leaned back in the patio chair and ran a hand up the back of his neatly trimmed hair. “As well as it could’ve. We declined their initial request, but that’s not to say they’ll be leaving anytime soon. The elders selected Jasper to be our eyes and ears while their representatives are in the area.
I saw a muscle tick at the corner of his jaw as he informed us, but I had little to no context about what could cause such a stir of irritation in him. Sylvie nodded along, though, so it must’ve been something she was well aware of. “What are they wanting to do?”
Orion’s arms rested on the tabletop, fingers tapping away at the metal in a steady and fast rhythm. “To do business here. An office location and a bar as far as everyone will be aware. But I reached out to other packs, and they’re known for… darker dealings. Human and otherwise. I don’t want to bring that here.”
Sylvie rested a hand on his back and offered a reassuring smile. I watched as tension left my brother’s shoulders, his tapping somehow taking on a calmer, happier note than the palpable distress from before.
“Sounds like you made a good decision, O. Don’t want them running like… vampire-grade guns or something. If that’s even a thing. Wait—” my eyes widened, “ is that a thing?”
Orion pursed his lips and thought for a moment. “They’re mostly shifters. But supernatural-grade weapons and drugs seem to be how they make the majority of their money. If our contacts are to be believed. They’ve twisted the arms of many packs up and down the east coast. Roping them in one way or another.”
A knot of sympathy twisted in my stomach. How my brother had been able to juggle all of his responsibilities was a mystery to me, let alone dealing with a fucking—shifter mob. I didn’t think the Pack Leader life was easy, but this was starting to sound dangerous.
“Well, you’ve got a witch that gossips with spiders and a sister that’s at least reliable in a brawl. It’ll be fine.” Not like a few years of boxing and marital arts were much of a match for fighting shifters with guns, but that and a little levity were all I could offer.
In a rare moment of humor, O snorted and rolled his eyes. The smile that ghosted his lips spoke volumes. “It’s better than nothing.”
“Hey!” Sylvie shot him a narrow-eyed look, “I’ll start snatching out hearts, and then maybe you’ll give me my flowers.”
I had no idea what the fuck they were even talking about, but Sylvie and I were able to get my brother distracted enough from pack stuff, even drawing out a few chuckles. And when the kids came over with fireflies cradled carefully in their palms, we cooed over their efforts.
Yes, Number Five was one of the best.