Werewolf in Alaska

Chapter 8

On his flight to San Francisco two days later, Jake vowed to put the incident with Rachel behind him. Talking about it might have helped, but he couldn’t confide in any of his Were friends. He’d built a reputation as a crusader against Were-human mating, so how could he admit that a human had tempted him so much he’d almost blown his cover?

Besides, it wouldn’t happen again. This trip away from Polecat and Rachel would allow him to refocus. Meeting with Giselle Landry, who shared his objections to Were-human mating, would help, too.

His plane touched down a few minutes past eight in the evening. As it taxied toward the gate, he called Giselle, even though their appointment wasn’t until the next morning. “Is it too late to meet for a drink?” He hoped not. He’d been alone with his thoughts far too much in the past forty-eight hours, and he needed to get his mind off his problems.

“It’s not too late.” She sounded frazzled. “But I should warn you I’m not good company right now.”

“Hey, if you’d rather not, that’s okay.” He tamped down his disappointment. “I’ll be at your office at ten tomorrow and we can talk then.”

“Actually, the idea of relaxing over a glass of vino sounds wonderful. I just can’t promise I won’t start whining.”

“You can whine all you want, Giselle. I’ll catch a cab to the Fairmont and meet you in the bar.”

“Meet me in the lobby instead, okay? I know a great little Were-owned place down by Fisherman’s Wharf.”

“Perfect.” Jake’s spirits lifted. Listening to Giselle’s troubles, whatever they might be, would take his mind off his own. He also looked forward to a night surrounded by his own kind. His preference for being a lone wolf had its drawbacks and probably made him more vulnerable to temptation of the Rachel variety.

“Okay,” Giselle said. “See you in about an hour.”

“If you’ll tell me what you’re driving, I can wait outside for you.”

“A Harley.”

He laughed. “Excellent.” Riding behind Giselle while she navigated San Francisco’s hills on her motorcycle sounded like exactly what he needed. “See you soon.” As he disconnected, he once again wondered if someday Giselle could be more than a friend. He made a promise to himself to keep his mind open to the possibility.

An hour later, he stood outside the Fairmont as the fog rolled in. Great night for a couple of werewolves. He scanned the area for a motorcycle, and here she came, materializing out of the mist. She’d gone with all black—jacket, pants, boots, and bike. He wouldn’t have known for sure it was her until he noticed a stray lock of dark red hair that had escaped from under her black helmet.

She spotted him and veered in his direction. “Hi there, Jake!” She put down a booted foot but left the motor running as she reached behind her and came up with a second helmet and goggles to match hers. “Put these on.”

“Thanks.” Knowing he’d be a passenger on her Harley, he’d worn jeans and a sweatshirt over his T-shirt. After putting on the helmet and goggles, he climbed onto the cushioned seat behind her.

“All set?” she called over her shoulder.

“Go for it.”

She took off with a roar, and he steadied himself by holding on to her waist. The ride sent a welcome surge of adrenaline through him. He tried to convince himself that touching Giselle had something to do with it, too.

But when he compared his reaction to Giselle with what he’d felt with Rachel . . . damn it! Was he doomed to constantly reference Rachel whenever he came in contact with another female? That would suck.

Well, even if he didn’t feel any sparks with Giselle, he loved riding on her motorcycle. She turned the streets of San Francisco into her own personal roller coaster, something she obviously relished doing. She’d mentioned having problems, so this wild race through the foggy night might be helping her release some tension, too.

Jake was almost sorry when they reached the harbor and she parked the Harley. “That was great,” he said as he climbed off.

“I took the long way. Hope you didn’t mind.”

“Nope. Loved it.” After taking off his goggles and helmet, he glanced at the bar she’d brought him to, a cozy-looking place with a wooden sign announcing it was the Den. He smiled. “Clever name. No one would guess.”

“No, they don’t.” She removed her helmet and shook out her wavy red hair. “They think it’s just another bar. But even so, humans don’t tend to stick around after they’ve wandered in. On some level they must realize these aren’t their peeps.”

“I appreciate you bringing me here. It’s exactly what I need right now. I’m pretty isolated in Polecat.”

She tucked her goggles inside her helmet and started toward the bar. “What about the Hunter pack?”

“It’s based in Idaho.”

“I guess I didn’t realize that. Most Weres live where their pack lives, so I naturally thought you—”

“I like Alaska better.” He opened the bar’s wooden door and held it for her.

“So you really are a lone wolf.”

“I suppose I am.” He hadn’t evaluated that in terms of taking a mate, either. As he followed Giselle into the dimly lit bar, he acknowledged that his isolation could pose a problem for most females. Werewolves were pack animals, and most of them preferred it that way.

A female often moved to her mate’s pack, but sometimes it worked the other way and a male switched locations. Jake hadn’t thought about it before, but how many Were females would willingly spend the rest of their lives as he did, distanced from any pack? He thought the spectacular setting created a decent trade-off, but would she? Maybe not.

The bar was fragrant with the scent of fine liquor, expensive cigars, and expertly prepared food. The Den’s humble exterior disguised a venue that would satisfy the most discerning customer. Jake realized he was starving.

Giselle was obviously known here. Customers called out greetings and she stopped to introduce Jake as they made their way to an empty table in a far corner. When they reached it, he held her chair.

“Thanks.” She gave him a smile. “Call me old-fashioned, but I love chivalrous gestures.”

“Me, too.” As he sat down opposite her, he wished to hell he found her wildly sexy. Objectively speaking, she was extremely attractive—tall, graceful, classic features, pretty hair. Logically he should want her, except he didn’t.

And unless he’d lost all perspective, she didn’t want him, either. She gazed at him with friendly interest but not a trace of smoldering lust. Well, good. If she’d shown any signs of being attracted, he’d have an awkward situation on his hands.

A waitress approached the table to take their order for drinks.

Jake glanced over at Giselle. “If you don’t mind, I’m ordering food. I know I asked you to meet me for a drink, but—”

“I’m ordering food, too.” She opened the menu and snapped it shut again before gazing up at the waitress. “Surf and turf for me.” She looked at Jake. “It’s outstanding here, and I haven’t stopped long enough to eat a decent meal in days.”

“Then let’s make that two.”

Giselle lifted her eyebrows. “Wine?”

“Let’s order a bottle of red. I’m ready to stay awhile, but if you need to get back, just say the word.”

“The Landry pack can do without me for a few hours.” She pulled a cell phone from a pocket of her leather jacket. “In fact, I’m turning this off.”

Jake checked the wine offerings.

“May I suggest the Paradigm Shift pinot noir?” the waitress said. “It’s local.”

“Sounds great.” Jake handed back the wine list. The evening had all the trappings of a romantic interlude, except that it lacked the necessary chemistry. Once the waitress had left, he turned to Giselle. “You’re now free to whine.”

She hesitated, as if debating whether to get into it. Then she groaned and covered her face with both hands. “It’s my big brother, although right now I feel years older than him.”

“So what’s he doing?” Jake felt a pang of envy that she had a brother to be upset with. He had no siblings and would have loved having them, but he was his parents’ only offspring. That fact made him doubly determined to carry on the legacy of his mother’s pack as best he could.

Giselle sighed and settled back in her chair. “Bryce is going crazy, apparently. He’s in line to be the next Landry alpha, but last week he ran off to Vegas and has no immediate plans to come back.”

“But he will eventually, right?”

“Who knows? He texts every day so we know he’s alive, but he’s not talking—not to me, or my parents, or Miranda, who’d agreed to become his mate within the next year. She’s announced that she’s free again, which only makes sense considering how he’s behaving.”

“What about his friends? Can’t they get through to him?”

Giselle shook her head. “He’s cut them off, too. The only clue I have is that he’d started reading Duncan MacDowell’s blog, because he mentioned it to me and wondered what I thought about Duncan’s ideas on Were-human mating.”

Jake cursed softly under his breath. The Scottish Were had organized WOOF—Werewolves Optimizing Our Future—the previous year to promote MacDowell’s belief that Were-human mating was inevitable and should be encouraged. He’d made serious inroads with that agenda during WereCon2012.

His popular blog continued to rally support for Were-human mating, and it looked as if he might have another well-placed convert. The heir apparent to the Landry pack would be a feather in Duncan’s cap.

“I’m sure hearing that doesn’t make you happy.”

“Nope.”

“I haven’t told my parents about my suspicions because they’d hit the roof if they thought Bryce might consider a human mate. I hope his Vegas adventure is nothing more than sowing some wild oats and he’ll come back ready to mate with Miranda and assume his responsibilities. But I don’t know if he will or not.”

“I’m sorry, Giselle. I wish there was something I could do.”

“If I thought you could talk him into coming home, I’d beg you to go down there. But he has a stubborn streak, and he’d dig in his heels if he thinks we’re coercing him in any way. I—” She paused as the waitress approached. “Good. We have wine.”

“I didn’t realize how much we might need that tonight.”

Giselle chuckled. “I realized it. I’m really glad you suggested this, Jake. I’ve wanted someone to talk to. You were at that conference. You saw how charismatic Duncan MacDowell is.”

“I did.” Jake tasted the wine and signaled the waitress to fill both glasses. “He got Kate Stillman to change her tune, after all, and I thought she was firmly in the Were-Were camp. Hell, I even like MacDowell, myself. It’s hard not to when he’s so sincere. Misguided, but sincere.”

“Well, let’s drink a toast to my wayward brother and the possibility that he’ll resist going over to Duncan’s side.”

Jake raised his glass. “To Bryce Landry. May he fulfill his destiny with Miranda, the Were mate he’s pledged to.”

“Hear, hear.” Giselle touched her glass to his and drank. Then she put it down and picked up the bottle on the table. “Paradigm Shift is her parents’ label. Among other things, the Randolph pack owns a winery in Napa, so naturally the Den will always recommend Were-made wine.”

“They should. It’s good wine.” Jake took another swallow.

“It is, and until last week, Miranda’s folks kept my folks well stocked with it. Understandably, the Randolph pack is being less generous with their wine. It’s all a mess, and sad, too. My parents get along great with her parents, or at least they used to. Now everyone’s tiptoeing around the subject of Bryce’s defection.”

Jake topped off their glasses. “If he comes back, can he fix this?”

“Probably. He can be a charmer.”

“So he could show up and convince everyone to forgive him?”

“Oh, yes. But he could also mate with a topless Vegas dancer simply to prove a point. When we were children he’d go along quietly for months, and then something would hit him wrong and he’d blow his stack in a rather spectacular fashion. I thought he’d outgrown that pattern, but apparently not.”

“I think we should blame it all on Duncan MacDowell.”

Giselle laughed. “Wish I could, but we all have free will, Jake.” She took another sip of her wine. “Let’s change the subject. I happen to know you didn’t fly all the way down here to talk about my brother. What’s up with WARM?”

“It’s growing.” He briefly described the trips he’d made and the network he’d created. After their food arrived, she encouraged him to elaborate, and he became so engrossed in his subject that he barely noticed what he was eating.

When the waitress came to clear their plates, he realized that he’d talked nonstop through the entire meal. “Sorry about that, Giselle. It’s a wonder I didn’t put you to sleep with that monologue.”

“I love listening to someone who’s passionate about a cause.”

“Yeah, for five minutes, maybe. After that it’s overkill.” He grinned at her. “I’m blaming Duncan MacDowell. The thought of that Were and all he stands for gets my blood pumping.”

“Well, it sounds like he has a worthy opponent in you.”

“Thanks for that. And now that I’ve bored you to death, can we stay for coffee so I can ask you what I came down here for?”

“Sure.” Giselle caught the waitress’s eye and ordered two coffees. Then she gazed across the table at Jake. “I’ll bet I know why you’re here.”

“Wouldn’t be hard to guess. I want you to head up the WARM organization here in San Francisco.”

“I can’t.”

He didn’t want to hear that. “Giselle, at least think about it.”

“I have.” She reached across and touched his arm as if in silent apology. “I knew that’s why you were coming down, so I’ve given it plenty of thought, but . . . I have several issues. One is that I’d have to resign from the council.”

“I know.” They’d served together on the council of the Worldwide Organization of Werewolves under Howard Wallace, the council’s first president. Although Jake had resigned, Giselle was still a member.

“I believe in WOW, Jake. I think I can do some good by being on the council.”

“I used to think that you could help balance the scales, but I’m not sure that’s possible. Considering that Howard’s two sons are mated with humans, we can guess how the organization is going to evolve.”

“You might be surprised. Now that Kate and Duncan are mated, she’s having a steadying influence on WOW and on Duncan, too.”

“You’re sure that’s not wishful thinking?” Jake still felt betrayed by that union. Kate used to be a powerful leader in the movement to end Were-human sexual involvement. How she’d ended up with Duncan, who held the opposite view, was a mystery to Jake, and he didn’t see how any good could come of it.

“I know he’s still fire and brimstone on his blog, but privately he’s less convinced he has all the answers. I know you think he’s corrupted our Kate, but the sword cuts both ways. I also trust Howard not to send us off a cliff.”

The coffee arrived, which gave Jake a chance to regroup. He waited until she’d doctored hers with cream before throwing out a revised suggestion. “Okay, so forget heading up the San Francisco division of WARM. You can work in the background and we’ll put someone else in that position, someone you handpick.” He lifted the coffee mug to his lips.

“I can’t do that, either.”

He set the mug back down without drinking. “Why not?”

“It’s all tied in with my brother. Before he left, I had my hands full as the chief accountant for Landry Enterprises. Now I’m doing that plus some of the board duties Bryce handled. Both Mom and Dad had to step back into positions they’d turned over to Bryce, as well.”

“You must be ready to wring his neck.”

Her fingers tightened around her coffee mug. “Pretty much. But that said, I’m going to tone down my activism for the time being. Bryce might screw up and mate with a human, and if he does, I’ll be the family peacemaker. I always have been. So I need to leave myself some middle ground to stand on.”

Jake knew when he was fighting a losing battle. “I understand. But if you’d be willing to recommend someone else from this area, that would help me.”

“Be happy to. I know who would be perfect. I’ll introduce you to Evan when we take our run tomorrow night.”

“Do you have time for the run? Sounds to me as if you’re stretched thin.” Concern for her schedule wasn’t his main reason for asking. With the evening drawing to a close, he became aware of a growing urge to scrap the rest of his plans and hop on a plane bound for home.

When he’d left Polecat this morning, he’d been intent on putting distance between himself and Rachel. He’d accomplished that, but instead of relief, he was battling an uneasy feeling that he needed to be at home to keep an eye on things. He might have underestimated Rachel’s determination to find that big black wolf.

“It’s all planned, and I’d have some disappointed Weres if we didn’t do it . . . unless you have to get back sooner. In which case, we’ll run without you, I guess.”

“No, no, I don’t have to get back.” He just felt compelled to. Maybe he was spooked for no reason. “I’d love to take that run. It’ll give me a chance to talk with Evan.”

“Then the run’s a go. I didn’t ask you how long you were staying. I hope at least a few more days, so you can enjoy the city.”

“That would be nice, but my flight leaves the morning after our run.” That hadn’t been his original itinerary, but it was now. Maybe he was being ridiculous to think Rachel might snoop around his place while he was gone. But he also couldn’t remember locking his back slider.

Damn, he might not have, because he was so used to leaving it unlocked. Surely Rachel wouldn’t consider actually going into his place uninvited, though. Yet he remembered her fury when he’d denied having a wolf on the premises. He hadn’t lied. Strictly speaking, he wasn’t a wolf. He only looked like one sometimes.

But she’d acted as if she thought he was hiding something, which he was. She also believed her “wolf” was being neglected. By him. Her love of wolves might cause her to do something uncharacteristic, like trespassing on his property.

Well, so what if she did? She wouldn’t find a wolf or any conclusive evidence one had been there. But if she went so far as to dig through his stuff . . . that possibility made him as nervous as hell. Yeah, he needed to get back, the sooner the better.

“It’s a shame you can’t stay longer,” Giselle said. “But if anybody understands tight schedules, it’s me.”

“Yep.” Jake sipped his coffee. “I can’t let anything slip through the cracks.”