AllFreeNovel
Share Us
When the woman who ran the shop he was now pacing in front of came out to see what was going on, she took one look at his scars, his scowl, his frantic pacing and went back inside. A few minutes later, she came back with a bottle of water for him.
Bertha was a doll, and he didn’t just think that because she owned and operated Hello, Dolly, an antique doll boutique set directly across from the Quick Stop. A handsome woman in her early seventies, she didn’t mind when Maddox took up his spot looming right outside her door. After the water, she offered him a slice of pie and stopped for a little conversation before she locked up for the night.
She was as human as they come, from a time before the paranormals had revealed their existence to the whole world. But love was love, she said, and she told him that her dear Harold had worn the same expression as Maddox during their courtship more than fifty years ago. Bertha didn’t recognize Evangeline’s picture, but she fed Maddox, offered him advice, and even stuck her tongue out at the Quick Stop manager whenever she saw him peeking over at them from his window.
Despite having a stretch of territory to stake out, it still felt like he’d taken a step back, another roadblock in the search for his mate. Innate stubbornness kept him from moving further than a block from the shop even if he couldn’t pick up on a single sign that Evangeline had been by in the last month.
Utter exhaustion eventually had him finding shelter in a local inn Bertha recommended for the handful of hours he allowed himself to rest and recover since running back to Colt’s Bumptown was out of the question. Only the thought of how Evangeline would react if she found him exhausted, dirty, and smelling like roadkill enticed him to sleep, shower, and air out the clothes he refused to change.
Her scent was fading fast. Maddox tried not to let that bother him, but it was tough.
He would find her again. He had to.
There was no other choice.
Day three. The weather was still holding out, and Bertha brought him a slightly stale banana nut muffin when she opened her shop that morning. It was the only thing he’d had for hours and, while he was grateful, it was kind of dry.
Maddox didn’t want to offend her. Since he stubbornly took up his post in Grayson, Bertha was one of the few he encountered who didn’t freak when they saw him. Most of the humans crossed to the other side of the street to avoid him. The rare Para making their way through gave him a wide berth, recognizing a bonded shifter on the hunt. Bertha was the only one who treated him like a person instead of a dangerous beast.
Maddox made it about an hour before he couldn’t take it any longer. He hated the idea of leaving the block during daylight hours. It was barely ten o’clock and if Evangeline wanted to make a pit stop at the convenience store before work, this was the prime time.
But, hell, if he choked to death on a muffin because a piece of walnut got stuck in his throat, he’d never see Evangeline again.
His mate was everything. Even with the dry, stale muffin nagging him, his thoughts were only for her.
There was a coffee place a couple of blocks away. Mugs. Bertha would close her store for an hour every afternoon for a cup. She told Maddox they had the best coffee in all of Grayson and he tucked that nugget away, knowing that he’d never go.
There was only one coffee shop that he was fond of. A small, family-owned joint in Woodbridge, it was the place where he first made his move on Evangeline, four years ago. Wolves were nothing if not loyal. When he got her back, he’d take the trip out there just for old times’ sake.
Of course, that wasn’t helping him now. And coffee sounded pretty fucking good right about then. It was hot, he was exhausted, and the muffin was pissing him off.
A couple of minutes. He’d only be gone for a couple of minutes. Five, maybe, depending on how busy the shop was. Run to Mugs, get a cup for him—and maybe one for Bertha—and he could be back at his post before anyone knew it.
Running his hands through his unkempt, shaggy hair before resetting his sunglasses on his nose, Maddox cast his gaze around the calm street. He reached with his shifter senses. No hint of Evangeline on the late summer air.
Go.
He made it to Mugs in less than three minutes. Narrow and long, with dark wood paneling and burnt orange tabletops, it was a bustling hotspot with a mixture of clientele. Mostly human, but there were more Paras inside getting their caffeine fix than he’d met on the street these last few days. He caught a glimpse of a pair of witches in one corner, and a predatory shifter who made a row of booths his immediate territory. A sniff revealed that the male shifter was a tiger, cunning and quick, but less dominant than Maddox’s wolf.
The tiger started to rise. With all the humans surrounding them, Maddox doubted he was about to defend his claim. He was probably conceding it to the Alpha.
No need for that. He met the tiger’s dark eyes, nodded, then pointedly looked away. The tiger sat back down, assured that no one was being challenged.
The Ants milled around Mugs, oblivious to Para politics at play. One or two did pause and stare as Maddox passed by, but he was used to it. Since no one stopped him from ordering his coffee, using Colt’s cash to pay for it, or claiming the furthest corner for himself, it was fine. Better than he expected, actually.
The coffee was piping hot, the air conditioning cranking. He sprawled in his seat, waiting for the coffee to cool enough to swallow without burning the shit out of his tongue. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes—
They snapped open.
A chill coursed up and down his spine as he sat forward, all senses on alert. His wolf perked its ears open.
He didn’t know why. His nose hadn’t caught a whiff of anything beyond the coffee brewing, pastries being heated, and the scents of each individual patron inside of Mugs. But he learned long ago to rely on his gut and, as if his instincts knew something he didn’t, he found himself zeroing in on a tall woman with long, dark hair who was accepting her cup from the barista.
There was no reason why she should have captured his interest so suddenly like that. It was the weirdest thing. From behind, there was nothing about her that set her apart from anyone else in Mugs except for her height. He took a deep breath, searching for that familiar scent ingrained in his soul. Rich vanilla and something that was uniquely Evangeline.
Even with his nose clamped shut and a thousand different scents to process, he could’ve picked his mate’s out in a heartbeat. It wasn’t there.
The woman was intriguing, but that’s all she could be.
