Gifted: A Holiday Anthology (8 page)

The mutt took three steps toward him. Slow and careful steps. As the mutt drew near, Logan realized he was young. Maybe twenty. Still twice his size. Both twins were small for their age, one of the more unfortunate traits they’d inherited from their father, who’d been the smallest in his class until he hit his growth spurt in high school.

The mutt stared at him and then inhaled deeply, his eyes widening.

“You smell like a werewolf,” the young man said.

“Uh, yeah . . .”

“No, I mean, you’re a kid. You shouldn’t already smell like a werewolf.”

“I’m special. Now, since you obviously know who I am—”

“You’re the boy,” he said.

“Pretty sure I don’t look like a girl.”

“No,
the
boy.
Their
boy.”

“Three for three. Not exactly genius, considering where you are. You do know where you are, right? Trespassing? On the Alpha’s territory.”

“Your dad, you mean.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “And there’s your first strike. My mother is the Alpha, moron.”

The mutt’s lips twitched. “Sorry, kid, no one buys that story. The Pack would never make a woman Alpha. It’s really your dad—they just don’t want to scare people by saying that.”

“Fine. You’re about to meet both of them. You can pick your challenge. Either way, you’ll get your ass kicked. That’s why you’re here, right? To challenge the Alpha.”

“No, I’m not stupid.”

“Um, yeah. The fact you’re here says you are. Now, should I call them over? Or do you want to rethink this particular course of action?”

The mutt’s gaze darted to the forest. “They’re out here?”

“Duh. You think they’d let their nine-year-old wander around at two in the morning? Now, I’m giving you a chance to leave. It’s Christmas time, don’t you have someplace to be?”

“Um . . .”

“Never mind. Just go. Head off that way.” He pointed. “Don’t step on the property or my parents will track you down and make an example of you. If you leave now, I won’t tell them you were here. They thought they smelled a mutt earlier, but they weren’t sure. Don’t make them sure.”

The mutt peered at him. “How old are you again?”

“Nine.”

“You don’t talk like it.”

“I take after my parents—both of them—who are very smart as well as very good fighters. It’s a lethal combination, and I wouldn’t suggest you stick around long enough to find out for yourself.”

“Is it true what they say? About your dad? What he did to the last wolf who trespassed here?”

“Whatever they say, it’s true. Now just—”

“Do you know what they say? What he did? You must not. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be nearly so proud of him. He’s a psycho. You know that, right?”

“He is whatever he needs to be to keep us safe. Now get—”

“No, really. He’s crazy. You obviously don’t know what he did, so let me give you a little present, kid. An early Christmas gift.”

“Not interested.”

The mutt smirked. “Oh, but I am. Let me tell you what your daddy did. Him and his buddy, Nick, they found two wolves here, come to issue a challenge. Your daddy was younger than me, and he took those wolves—”

A crash sounded in the undergrowth, and a figure barreled out so fast both Logan and the mutt fell back. Before the mutt could recover, Dad had him by the shirtfront. He threw him onto the road and planted a foot on his stomach.

“Logan?” he said. “Get back to the house.”

“I—”

Dad’s look stopped the words in his throat. It was the look mutts must get when they crossed him. A look his son never expected to see, and Logan took a slow step back.

“To. The. House.” He caught Logan’s gaze. “Now.”

Logan tried. He really tried. This was an order from his father and the Beta, but it wasn’t the same as an order from the Alpha, and all Logan could think was that there might be other mutts, and he really should stay by his father. Watch out for him.

“Logan . . .”

The mutt slammed his fist into the back of Dad’s knee, and it caught his father off guard. His leg buckled. Logan shot forward, ready to throw himself at the mutt if his dad went down. He didn’t. He just stumbled, and swung around and grabbed for the mutt, but Logan was already diving at him, and when Dad swung around, his fist caught Logan in the shoulder and sent him crashing into the snowbank.

That did distract Dad for real, and he twisted toward Logan as the mutt leapt up. Logan opened his mouth to shout a warning, but Dad backhanded the mutt down again, and Logan scrambled up as fast as he could, saying, “I’m okay. I’m okay,” even as pain stabbed through his shoulder. Dad spun back on the mutt, who was staying on the ground now, his hands raised.

“I’m sorry,” the mutt said. “I’m really, really, really sorry.”

“Not yet you aren’t,” Dad said, taking a step toward him, his fists clenched.

The mutt stayed down. Stayed submissive. His gaze was fixed on Dad’s chest, not rising even to his face.

“It was stupid, really stupid,” the kid said. “They dared me—my cousins—and I don’t have a rep, because I lost my first two challenges, and I thought this would help. All I had to do was get a photo of the house to prove I was here. I wasn’t even going to go on the property. Well, not far, because you can’t see the house from the road. I tried. But I was going to walk as far on this road as I could, and only go—”

“How old are you?”

“N-nineteen.”

“Fuck. Name?”

“Davis. I mean, Cain. Davis Cain.”

“Of course. A Cain. Do you guys share a single brain among you?” He lifted his hands. “Don't even answer that. Did you set foot on the property?”

“N-no. No, sir, I mean.”

Dad winced a little at that, as if the “sir” took it too far, was too submissive, didn’t portend well for the kid’s future as a werewolf.

“I’m going to check that,” Dad said. “In the meantime, you will get into your car, wherever it is, and you will start heading home. You will not stop, even to take a piss, until you are past the state borders.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you will tell your cousins that you got as far as Bear Valley and turned around, because you realized just how stupid an idea this was, that you weren’t just risking your own life, but, because you’re a kid, I’d hold your family responsible for not teaching you better.”

“R-right.”

“You decided to go home and start training instead of taking on challenges already. Train until you’re ready to beat someone. And maybe, if you can manage it, hit the books and get a little smarter, too, because that will help you fight. And help you not make fucking stupid choices.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, start heading to your car. I’m going to retrace your steps, and if I find you even set foot on our property, I’m coming after you.”

“I-I didn’t. Honest.”

“Good, then you won’t be in a rush to get to your car. Walk.”

The kid did, heading in the direction he’d come from, which meant Dad followed at a short distance, checking his trail. Dad got about twenty feet before he turned and saw Logan still standing there. He barely had time to open his mouth before Logan broke into a run to follow, his teeth gritted as the fast movement jostled his shoulder.

They kept going until the mutt turned down another road, and they saw his car. Dad walked a little farther, still sniffing. Once he was satisfied the kid had walked straight down the road—no side trips into their forest—he stopped and watched as the car’s taillights disappeared from sight.

Then, still silent, Dad walked over and motioned for Logan to take off his jacket. He prodded Logan’s shoulder as Logan squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to cry out.

“Can you lift your arm?” he asked.

Logan did.

Dad stepped back. “Do you know how lucky you are that I didn’t dislocate it? Or break it?”

“It would have served me right if you did.”

Dad gave a disgusted grunt. “Sure, that’s what counts: that you deserved it. It wouldn’t have bothered me at all. Break my son’s shoulder. No big deal.”

Logan dropped his gaze. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten in the way.”

“That was just the last in a very long string of mistakes you made tonight.”

Logan could hear the anger in his father’s voice. Icy anger, pushed down deep, turning his voice bitter cold. Logan wished he would yell—lose his temper and snarl and shout. He did with others. Even with Mom. Especially with Mom, though they tried to hide it. They’d get into a fight, both of their tempers exploding, furniture crashing, and even when Logan had first heard that, listening in with Kate, it hadn’t bothered either of them. Because they knew it didn’t mean anything. Mom and Dad never hurtled insults, never threatened or tore each other down. It was just anger. Two volatile tempers clashing, until one of them would stalk off into the woods, and the other would follow, and, when they came back, everything would be fine.

Logan understood those flash fights. They didn’t say, “I hate you,” or even, “At this moment, I hate you.” They were just a difference of opinion, strongly worded. “I love you, but I disagree with you.” Or, “I love you, but you did something I don’t love.”

That’s what he wanted right now. For his dad to shout and snarl and get it out of his system. To be furious with Logan for doing something stupid, because it had scared him. That’s not what he saw, though. What he saw was worse than anger, much worse. It was disappointment.

“I’m sorry,” he said, trying not to cry. “I’m really sorry, and I know everything I did tonight was stupid and—”

“We told you not to come into the woods. We told you why.”

“I-I thought . . . I didn’t think it was true. About the mutt.”

Dad pulled back, his blue eyes icing over even more. “You thought we
lied
to you?”

“N-no, I thought there was another explanation. I was absolutely sure there wasn’t a mutt out here.”

“You are nine, Logan. I don’t care how smart you are—you are not in a position to make that determination. If
I’m
not sure whether there’s a mutt, and your
mother
isn’t sure, then
you
aren’t either.”

“I know. I’m—”

“Furthermore, I don’t care what you thought. It was an order. You do not disobey an order.”

“I know, and I’m sorry—”

“No, Logan, I mean you
don’t
. Not that you shouldn’t. You
don’t
. So if you did tonight, then something is wrong, and you are going to tell me what it is, or we are going to spend a very long and cold night on this road.”

Logan swallowed. He closed his eyes, and steeled himself and said, “I’ll show you.”

“No, you’ll tell me.”

“I-I . . .” He lifted his gaze. “Please. I have to show you.”

Dad gave a wave, looking tired and frustrated, and let Logan lead the way.

Dad followed behind Logan. Maybe watching for trouble. Maybe just not really in the mood to walk with him. When they were halfway to the fort, Dad’s hand fell on his good shoulder.

“It’s late,” he said. “Just tell me what—”

“I have to show you.”

“No, Logan.” He stepped in front of him, his face drawn in the moonlight, lines deepening around his mouth. “Tell me, because I need to get inside and talk to your mother.”

“It’s a puppy,” Logan blurted.

Dad went still. “What?”

“A puppy. In the fort.”

“You found a puppy in the fort?” Dad said it slowly, carefully, his face giving nothing away.

“No, in the ditch. There were two. In a bag. I thought they were dead, so I was going to move the bag before Kate found them, and I was carrying it across the road when I realized one puppy was still alive.”

“One was . . . ?”

Logan nodded, and the look that passed over his father’s face . . . It was a half-dozen expressions, all flickering fast, shock and surprise and anger and outrage and then something like grief and regret as he said, “You were moving dead puppies for your sister.”

“I didn’t want her to see that.”

Dad’s expression said he’d rather Logan hadn’t seen that either, but Logan started walking again, still talking, “At first, when I thought the puppy was hurt, I was going to take it to Jeremy. But then it was fine, and I . . . I put it in the fort.”

“The fort?”

“I wanted to give it to Kate for Christmas.” Again, he blurted the words before he could stop himself. Then he hurried on. “I mean, that was my first thought. I know I can’t now. It’s a bad time. But I didn’t know what to do with the puppy, and I was trying to figure it out while I was looking after it, which is why I went out tonight. I thought you didn’t smell a mutt this afternoon—just me and the puppy. I was
sure
that’s what it was. So I was going to feed it.” He took the baggie of meat from his inside pocket. “Otherwise, I’d never have gone out.”

Dad gave a slow nod. They were within sight of the fort when he finally said, “You wanted to give it to Kate. For Christmas.”

“I know I can’t, so I’m not asking. That isn’t fair.”

“Isn’t fair?”

“To make you and Mom say no. Especially Mom. She wants a perfect Christmas, and a puppy would be, well, perfect. For Kate. So Mom would either have to say no and feel awful or say yes when she really doesn’t want to.
That’s
not fair.”

Dad’s hand fell on his good shoulder again, and before Logan knew it, Dad had pulled him into an embrace. Tight and brief and fierce, saying nothing, just that hug that said everything.

“All right, then,” Dad said. “Show me your puppy. Before it breaks down that door.”

The puppy was indeed trying to break down the door, throwing itself at it as it yipped and howled. Logan opened it, and the puppy flew out. So did the stink of puppy poop, and Logan’s hand flew to his nose. The puppy jumped and leaped against his legs, yelping to be picked up.

“I’ll clean that up,” he said quickly.

“You look after your puppy,” Dad said. “I’ll handle the rest. I’ve changed plenty of diapers.”

Dad cleaned out the fort while Logan fed the puppy. He came out again as Logan was trying to get the puppy to eat more.

“Food first, then play,” he said to the puppy, dancing around his feet. He looked up at his dad. “It likes to play.”