Michele Hauf - Ghost Wolf

“Not like they need it,” Sunday said. “Those Saint-Pierre boys are too fine to get all greasy fixing engines.”

“Whatever. I’m just here to pick something up,” Daisy said, trying to ignore the news. Though she shouldn’t. This was her story. But she was distracted by the obvious. “I’m not here for, you know, a date or anything.”

“What’s that about this not being a date?” Beck rounded a yellow sports car (sans windshield) at the end of the shop. A large cardboard box was hoisted on top of his shoulder. “I thought we were going to the iceworks tonight?”

Sunday tilted another eyebrow quirk at Daisy, and it was accompanied by a knowing smile. So much said. Daisy’s neck flushed warmly.

“We hadn’t confirmed that. Are those the bicycle chains?” she asked, to change the subject.

Beck set the box on the floor before the pickup, and both Daisy and Sunday bent to inspect the contents. Dozens of chains slicked with grease snaked within the box.

“This is awesome,” Daisy said. “I can use these.”

“Best way to get the grease off is with Simple Green,” Sunday said.

“I know. I’ve done it before.”

“How’s your art stuff coming anyway?” the familiar asked.

“My work in progress is turning out a lot cooler than I’d hoped. I plan to donate the finished piece to the wolf sanctuary up in Ely.”

“Cool.”

“And now with these, I’ll be able to finish it sooner than expected. Thanks, Beck.”

Daisy swung around toward Beck, arms out as if to hug him—her family hugged a lot—then she paused, and dropped her arms. Right. Not ready for that kind of contact. At least, not in front of the familiar.

“Uh, how much do you want for them?”

“I’ve already stated my price.” Beck crossed his arms and peered down at her with his arctic-ice eyes.

He meant accompanying him to the fireworks tonight.

Daisy blew out a breath that fogged before her, even standing within the garage. Attending the midnight iceworks near the ice castle on the lake was a family tradition. And the only way to really enjoy it was to bundle up, snuggle next to another warm body and sip hot chocolate from a thermos. She could completely imagine doing that with Beck.

She glanced to Sunday, who put up her palms and strode around the front of the hood, disappearing from view. “Not listening,” the familiar called out. “But check out the news.”

Both swung their heads toward the TV, where the female newscaster was talking about the ghost wolf that had been scaring hunters witless. A pair of hunters had sworn off hunting for wolves and anything else, including deer.

“The thing was big and nasty,” one of the hunters said to the camera. He gestured widely with his red flannel-coated arms. “And white and filmy like a freakin’ ghost.”

Beck chuckled. “Ghost wolf. That’s a good one.”

Daisy wished she could have been the one to interview the hunters.

“But it was solid!” the other hunter chimed in on a shaky voice. “It slapped the shotgun right out of my hand. I ain’t never hunting again.”

Beck’s smile captured Daisy’s attention. He was proud of what the ghost wolf was doing. Either that or he was amused by the redneck hunters getting their justice and repenting. Both were good reasons to smile, in Daisy’s opinion.

“Whoever or whatever the ghost wolf is,” she said, “it’s doing all the wolves in the area a big favor by chasing away the hunters. I hope he keeps it up.”

“He?” Beck asked as he picked up the box and started toward her car. “You called it an it first. How do you know it’s a he?”

Daisy ran up to unlock the trunk. Surprisingly, the tiny car held a lot in the back end. “I don’t know if it’s a he, or an it, or a ghost. But this whole story has superhero undertones, don’t you think?”

“Superhero?” Beck winced. “I don’t know about that.”

“The underdogs, which are the wolves and us in this case,” Daisy explained, “need a defender to protect them. And suddenly from out of nowhere comes a hero on a quest to set things right. I love it!”

“Yeah, but I’m guessing the ghost wolf doesn’t have a cape.”

“You don’t need a cape to be a superhero. Just a focus and a desire to do good. That is my new angle.”

“Your angle?”

“I did tell you I’m trying to win an internship for the local paper.”

“You’re doing a story on the ghost wolf?” His expression changed so suddenly Daisy wondered what she’d said to offend him. “I renew my warning for you to be careful and stay out of the woods unless you bring someone along with you.”

“And I renew my assertion to being able to take care of myself. You are such a guy.”

Beck sighed and shook his head. He did appear genuinely concerned, but Daisy was trying to prove herself here, so she disregarded his anguish. She could do anything the boys could do. Oftentimes better.

“So can I pick you up later?” he asked.

“Um, I guess I could call my brother and cancel with him.”

“Really? So it’s a choice between your brother, whom you’ve gone to this event with before, or the lone wolf?” Beck winced. “You should probably go with the safer bet.”

“Yeah, but that’ll never get me the tangle I want.”

“The tangle?”

Oops. Where had that confession come from? Deep inside, where the yearning part of her ignored her armor of introversion and just wanted to get tangled, that was where. If she didn’t stop blurting her secrets out to Beck, she’d tell him about her shifting troubles, too. No way. That was mortifying.

Daisy nodded toward the trunk, indicating he set the box inside. “I gotta go. I have some research to do online before tonight.”

He settled the box into the trunk and stood back to look over the box. “I cannot believe that fit.”

“Thanks, Beck. I appreciate it.”

“Where do you live? I’ll pick you up around ten.”

The man would not take maybe as an answer. So she’d let it happen. Beck would make a much better date than Kelyn. She gave him her address, which he entered into his phone.

Walking around to the door, Daisy paused and turned to find Beck standing right before her. His breath fogged out. Ice eyes took her in. The moment felt as if he should kiss her. And then it did not. It wasn’t right. Sunday wasn’t far away, and even if she said she couldn’t hear anything, Daisy knew that cats had as excellent hearing as wolves did.

She held out her hand, and Beck stared at it awhile before conceding and shaking. “Later. Uh, will there be brothers at this event tonight?”

“Probably. You scared?”

“Should I be? What’s the one’s name? Trouble? I should probably keep a good distance from anyone with a name like that.”

“Trouble is all bark and no bite. Blade is the one you won’t see coming until it’s too late.”

Daisy slid inside the car and turned the key to fire up the engine. As she backed out, she smiled and waved. Sometimes brothers came in handy. Couldn’t let him think it was going to be easy courting her, could she?

But really? The guy was courting her. How cool was that?

* * *

Beck went over the brothers’ names in his head as he pulled up before Daisy’s building. Kelyn. Had she mentioned he was faery? Faeries were no problem. And Trouble was not the one he was supposed to worry about? But Blade was? There was another brother, as well. He didn’t know his name.

But he did know the father’s name. Malakai Saint-Pierre. The man’s name was as much a mouthful as he was a menace. The wolf was big, and he made swords for a living. Freakin’ swords. He’d asked Beck on two occasions to join the pack, once a few years ago, and then only a month ago when he’d seen him in town at the local hardware store. Both times Beck had felt disdain in the man’s growl.