The Werewolf Meets His Match (Nocturne Falls Book 2) (19 page)

Blood welled in the cuts made by the other man’s scratching, but Hank held fast, squeezing a little harder. “She’s about to be my wife. That makes it my business.”

Jenkins started to go blue. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His eyes went buggy.

With a growl, Hank dropped Jenkins to his feet. He couldn’t kill the man. Yet.

The second Jenkins touched down, he took a breath. Then he swung.

Hank dodged the man’s talons and rammed his shoulder into the man’s chest. The air left him with an audible woof, and he collapsed to the ground again, heaving in air.

Hank rolled him over and cuffed him before he got his wind again. “You don’t know when to give up, do you?”

With the battle over, Hank went back to his full human form as the rest of the crew did, too.

“Found it,” Cruz yelled.

Hank looked up to see his deputy holding a small red and white cooler by the handle. “Wolfsbane?”

Cruz nodded. “Two vials and a syringe. Probably shot the cookies full of the stuff. We could get the lab to match the strain if need be.”

Hank flipped his captive over, who’d also returned to human form. “The presence of it in their room ought to be enough. Plus, Billy Bob Idiot here is going to confess. Aren’t you?”

“Name’s Wade, you stinkin’ Merrow, and I’m not confessing to anything.”

Hank grunted. “Suit yourself. It’s not really necessary anyway.”

Wade’s eyes went gold, like he was about to go full wolf.

Hank stared at him and shook his head slowly. “Attempt to shift, and I’ll put you in silver-plated cuffs. Right after I knock you out.”

Wade snarled, but stayed human. Titus let out a low whistle from the other side of the room. Hank straightened.

“Lookie here.” Titus took a hunting rifle with an electronic scope out of the closet.

Hank grabbed Wade and tossed him on the bed beside his brother, who was now also in handcuffs and sporting a bloody lip thanks to whoever had tackled him. “Loaded?”

Titus racked the slide open. “Yep. And that’s not all…”

He plucked out one of the bullets, lifted it to his nose and sniffed. He grimaced, making the scratch on his cheek wrinkle. “Silver. They meant to make another attempt at killing her. Or you.”

Sam, who’d come through the fight unharmed, grabbed the other brother, Dalton, by his shirt, hoisted him to a sitting position and got in his face. “You tried to kill my sister. The daughter of your alpha.”

Dalton’s lip curled. “Your father’s old and out of touch. It’s time for a new alpha to run the Tennessee pack. This truce makes us look weak.”

“Yeah,” Wade agreed.

“You’re both idiots,” Sam said. “You have no idea what’s at stake.”

Hank’s ears perked up. What did Sam mean by that? Something more than peace between the two packs?

Dalton laughed. “I should’ve taken that rifle to your old man when I had the chance.”

Sam slugged Dalton, knocking him back onto the bed and rendering him unconscious. Wade shut up. Sam shook his head and looked at Hank. “These mutts make me ashamed to be a Kincaid.”

Hank could think of a few more reasons to be ashamed of that lineage, but held his tongue. “Let’s load them into the truck and get them to the holding site.” There was a place just an hour outside of town. “I’ll call my father, tell him what’s going on, then he can send his men to pick them up. Sam, you’d best fill Clemens in, too.”

“I will.” Sam’s hands clenched at his sides as he stared at the two brothers. “He’s not going to like this. At the very least, he’ll kick them out of the pack.”

“As he should, but there’s still going to be a tribunal. It’s pack law.” Which meant the Jenkinses would get a chance to tell their side. No doubt something that would upset Clemens, too. He probably wouldn’t like having his dirty laundry aired so publicly.

Sam nodded, but the expression on his face was unreadable. Anger, definitely, but whatever else was there, Hank couldn’t tell. Was he worried what the Jenkins brothers would say? That wasn’t Hank’s problem. And so long as Ivy’s brother didn’t decide to go rogue and mete out whatever punishment he thought fit, everything would be fine.

The last thing Hank wanted to do was add to Ivy’s troubles by arresting her brother for murder.

“It’s perfect.” Birdie clasped her hands and tucked them under her chin, her eyes shining with tears, just like they’d been with every other dress Ivy had worn out of the dressing room. “You look beautiful. That is definitely the dress you should get married in.”

Ivy stared at her reflection. The dress
was
amazing. White lace with cap sleeves and a simple A-line skirt that fell to the floor in a sprinkling of crystals and beading. There was just enough to make the dress sparkle and add a hint of vintage. Ivy had always dreamed about a dress like this.

But she didn’t deserve it. Not with the scheme to deceive Hank. Thinking about that while wearing such a beautiful gown made her heart break a little. The white dress seemed such a stark contrast to the horrible thing she was about to do to the man she was falling in love with. If only she could get Charlie to safety.

“Gathering wool, dear?”

Ivy shook herself. “Sorry. I just…” She took a breath. “Birdie, I can’t afford this.” Not financially or emotionally. Having a nice wedding with all the pretty trappings was only going to highlight how much of a sham the whole thing was.

Birdie clucked her tongue. “How about this is my gift to you?”

“No, I can’t possibly—”

“Corette, can you come here?” Birdie waved at the owner of the shop, an attractive older woman who, Birdie had informed Ivy, was one of the town’s better-known witches and currently dating Hugh Ellingham’s valet. Birdie had insisted that Ever After was the only bridal boutique worth shopping at in town. Seemed to Ivy it was also the only one, but what did she know?

Not much about bridal shops, and not that much about witches. Just like vampires, she’d never met one personally, but it was cool to be in a shop owned by one. Not so cool that she was about to let Birdie get away with buying the dress. The woman would hate her when she found out the truth. “That is a sweet gesture, Birdie, but it wouldn’t be right—”

“Hush, now. It would be absolutely right. I never had a daughter so let me do this.”

Corette joined them, smiling broadly at Ivy. “You’re the perfect height for a gown like that. You look stunning.”

“Thank you.”

Birdie touched Corette’s hand. “We’re going to take this dress, but we need it for tomorrow.”

“That soon? Oh my. There’s no way I can order one with such short notice.” Corette frowned and looked at Ivy. “Are you okay with taking the floor sample? You’re the first person to try that on, so it’s not like it’s been worn by anyone else. Still, it
is
the sample dress.”

Ivy was about to say they weren’t taking the dress, when Birdie spoke up.

“That’s fine. I imagine there’s a little discount that will go along with that?”

“Of course. I’ll sharpen my pencil.”

“Good.” Birdie smiled like she’d won something. “Now, about alterations. Since we need it so quickly, can you…” She waved her hands. “Do your thing?”

Corette looked around. “Since we’re all alone, I don’t see why not.”

She walked up to Ivy, who stood on a small platform in front of a large bank of angled mirrors. Corette pinched the dress in a few spots, checking the fit and taking up excess fabric. She lifted the shoulders and let them drop. Next, she spanned Ivy’s rib cage with her hands front and back. Finally, she took a few steps away and squinted. “Doesn’t need much.”

She stretched out her hands and waved them through the air with a flourish.

The dress moved, fitting itself to Ivy as though it was being tailored right on her body. Ivy gasped. “What was that?”

Corette gave her a wink. “Just a little magic. But then you shifters know all about that, don’t you?”

Ivy smiled. “I guess we do.” Every supernatural had their own kind of magic.

“I’m so glad you’re taking Sheriff Merrow off the market. He needs a woman in his life. Someone to take care of him, you know?” Corette shook her head. “He works too much. But then maybe that’s because there’s no one to go home to.”

“I agree,” Birdie said. “My nephew’s been married to his job for far too long. Time he has a good woman to spend his days with. And nights.” Birdie twittered and blushed a little.

A good woman. Ivy did her best to keep a smile on her face, but inside her happiness faded at the reminder of what she wasn’t.

All because of her father.

Birdie shooed her back into the dressing room to change. After Corette folded the dress into tissue paper and boxed it up, Birdie took hold of Ivy’s arm, and they were off again. This time they went several streets until they turned down one that rang a bell for Ivy.

Black Cat Boulevard. She looked up at the sign. “Delaney’s Delectables. Hank told me about this place.” She leaned in toward Birdie and whispered, “He said the woman who owns it is a vampire.”

“She is.” Birdie nodded, eyes sparkling. “And she owes Hank a favor. C’mon.”

She took Ivy’s arm and marched them both in. “Hello, Delaney, dear. How are you?”

A cute woman with chestnut waves and a smattering of freckles who looked nothing like any vampire Ivy had ever imagined put her hands on her hips and grinned. “Hey there, Birdie. I’m just fine. How are you?”

“Oh, I’m in a panic.” Birdie shuddered and clutched at her throat like the panic was choking her. “I am
desperate
for your help.”

How Birdie hadn’t won an Oscar was astonishing.

Delaney’s brow puckered. “What’s the matter? I’m happy to do whatever I can.”

Birdie put her arm around Ivy. “This is Ivy Kincaid. Ivy, meet Delaney Ellingham, the owner of this very fine establishment and the baker of all these delicious things. She’s won awards.”

Delaney rolled her lips in, an effort meant to stop herself from laughing at Birdie’s hyperbole, no doubt. Ivy liked her immediately. She gave her head a little shake. “I actually haven’t won any.” She stuck her hand out. “Nice to meet you, Ivy.”

Ivy shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, too.” For a vampire, she was surprisingly warm. Maybe they all were. Ivy wasn’t exactly an expert on that particular brand of supernatural.

Delaney’s hands went back to her hips. “Now, what seems to be the trouble?”

“Hank, you know Hank, my nephew. The sheriff.”

“Of course. I owe him one.” Delaney looked at Ivy. “He helped save my life once.”

“That’s a story I’d like to hear,” Ivy answered.

Birdie cleared her throat. “If I could just bring us back to why we’re here,” she said. “Ivy and Hank are getting married.”

Delaney clapped her hands. “How wonderful! Congratulations. I didn’t even know Hank was seeing anyone.”

“He wasn’t. This is an arranged marriage. It’s a pack thing.” Ivy saw no reason not to be honest. It was a nice change of pace.

Delaney’s mouth rounded to an O. “You and I have a lot in common. We really should get together and have lunch.”

“That would be great. I didn’t know vampires ate real food.” Ivy’s mouth puckered up, but it was too late to pull the words back. “Sorry, was I not supposed to know you’re a vampire?”

Delaney laughed. “Only if you’re human. Which I assume you’re not?”

“Werewolf. Just like Hank. Which is why our marriage is about to bring
peace
”—she used air quotes around the word—“between our respective packs.”

Delaney nodded. “Cool. So what can I do to help you guys with this?”

“They need a cake.” Birdie leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, “We just got her a wedding dress thanks to Corette. You tell Stanhill he’s got a real keeper there.”

Delaney laughed. “I will. As for this cake, how many people does it need to feed?”

“A hundred,” Birdie said at the same time that Ivy said, “Ten.”

The two women looked at each other. Ivy barely controlled the urge to walk out. “Birdie, no one even knows we’re getting married. Why on earth would we need a cake to feed a hundred people?”

“I was planning on inviting some—”