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“If that’s what you want to call it,” he grumbles, but his demeanor changes, becoming more subdued. It’s subtle but I pick up on it. The more time I spend with Keenan’s twin, the easier he is to read.
After our wedding a few weeks ago, Lennox went back to work in New York. He doesn’t say much about it, but he’s a police detective and I know he and a partner are investigating a series of suspicious fires.
“You both look tired,” I say. “Why don’t you go sit by the pool and I’ll bring out some cool drinks?” A thrill goes through me at being able to say ‘the pool’. In the kitchen I prepare three glasses of lemonade, adding a fair amount of sugar to Keenan’s. My wolf has a sweet tooth.
As I step out onto the patio, I catch the tail end of Lennox’s sentence. “… connected to ASHRA but I don’t know how. I think it’ll be the key to getting to the heart of the organization.”
“What’s ASHRA?” I ask, setting a glass in front of each of them on the patio table before perching on the seat next to Keenan’s.
Lennox’s gaze is cool and professional. “ASHRA stands for the Anti-Shifter Human Rights Association. The organization is dedicated to separating the species and driving shifters into communes similar to Wolf-Haven but without the luxury of leaving.”
“Prisons,” Keenan adds grimly.
“That’s terrible!” I try to imagine Pinky being forced into a prison and shake my head. “It’s not going to work.”
“It’s worse than that,” Lennox says, taking a drink of his lemonade. “The somewhat reasonable ones want us in prisons, but the truly devout, the humans who believe shifters are an abomination, want to exterminate us.”
I look at Keenan, hoping he’ll deny his brothers words, but the lines around his eyes deepen and he refuses to meet my eyes.
“Won’t the shifters fight back?” My throat goes dry as I imagine Keenan having to fight.
“They will,” Lennox says, his gaze on his brother. “And there will be war.”
“Again,” Keenan adds.
We sit in silence, absorbing the grim reality of war, the heat of the afternoon sun no longer comforting as a shiver goes down my spine.
Desperation wars with anger as I ask, “What can we do? It’s only rumblings and a few fires so far, right? Surely we can stop a war before it starts.”
I dip into Keenan’s head and realize they’re both seeing the same things happening in our current modern-day society that led to the human-shifter war 700 years ago. The images in his head are like a newly opened wound. What used to be an old scar is now over-flowing with blood so vivid it makes me recoil.
I wrap my arms around him, trying to comfort him.
“We need to remember the past so we don’t repeat it,” he says gruffly, dropping a kiss on my head.
“Unfortunately, the memories of humans are short,” Lennox says.
“Not all humans are bad.” I defend my species.
Lennox smiles at me and I feel his mood lift. “Of course not. I’ve met and worked with some incredible humans. Incredibly brave people considering how short your lives are.”
“Like Charlie?” I ask and his eyes widen. I grin. “You think you’re the only one sneaking into heads? You’ve been splashing her name across your thoughts like a fourth of July sky banner.”
His eyes never leave me as he says, “Keenan, your human pet needs to mind her own business.”
I laugh, feeling good once more after a tense few moments. “Watch that mouth or you’ll be sleeping in the doghouse tonight.”
He pretends to cover a yawn. “You need to come up with some original jokes if you’re going to hang out with us.”
After we finish our drinks, I bustle around my new kitchen, preparing a feast while Keenan and Lennox continue moving the contents of my old apartment into the mansion. Of course my paltry belongings won’t fill up more than a few rooms, but I’ll worry about purchasing more stuff later.
I offered to hire a moving company, but the wolf shifter brothers insisted on doing it all themselves. I’m not complaining though. Glancing out the window, I see Keenan drag his sweaty T-shirt over his head and mop his brow. When Lennox does the same, displaying an equally impressive set of abs, pecs and biceps, a “Holy heck!” slips from my lips.
Keenan is the only man for me, but I’d have to blind not to see that his brothers are just as scrumptious. The only one I haven’t met is Fallon, and I must admit, I’m not upset over the fact. He sounds rather frightening.
I put the finishing touches on my creation, a three-tier, chocolate frosted birthday cake, and stand back to admire it when the doorbell rings.
“Who’s that?” Keenan growls heading for the front door.
