Werewolf Wedding(60)

I laughed and I laughed, cackling away harmlessly until the laughing started to choke me a little, until the memories of Jake and how sweet he was hit me a completely different way. This time, the tears didn’t just well up in the corners of my eyes, they flowed freely.

What if the plan didn’t work? What if all of this was just giving me – or him, or both of us – false hope? What if I went to that ceremony and Dane just chopped Jake’s head right off? What the hell then?

I’m not too proud to say that I had a good cry cry that I’d needed to have for a lot longer than I care to admit. I’m also not too proud to admit that I left it all right there. As soon as I was done, that was it. My nerves were steel. I was back to myself, I was ready to rock.

So to speak.

By Saturday morning, I was running on about ten hours of total sleep in three and a half days, but I’ll be damned if that wasn’t the gaudiest, most ridiculous statue I ever carved in my life.

I picked up the phone on Jeannie’s desk – and I was so numb with exhaustion that I didn’t even remember to think about her and feel bad – and called the company that always delivers my stuff.

“Hell-yo?” the guy who ran their phones – Dave – asked.

“Hey Dave, Delilah Coltrane. I have an emergency delivery. And it’s a long way off.”

“Oh yeah?” I heard his pen click. “When you need it where it’s going? Sometime next week?”

“Six hours,” I said, chewing on my lip, hoping he wouldn’t say no.

“No way in hell,” he said. “Truck’s taken. Doug’s got it in Moultrey.”

“Dave,” I said, “I hate to do this, but if you can get this statue to this address by seven tonight, it’s going to be worth your trouble.”

“Worth it? How? I don’t have a truck, I—”

“How does a ten thousand dollar delivery charge sound?”

I couldn’t believe I was saying what I was saying. But I did. Jake would understand.

“It sounds like I need to find a truck. Be there in an hour.”

As the line went dead, I swear I heard an excited woop! from the other end. My heart wasn’t going to take much more, I knew, but it had to last just a little longer.





-19-


“I guess things always happen for a reason, but this one’s real hard to figure out.”





-Delilah


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“Whatever that thing’s for, Delilah,” Dave said as I signed the ticket, “I hope these people like it. I didn’t know you’d gotten into the gold statue making game.”

“I haven’t,” I said, not yet. “Send the bill to my office, like always. This is one that I promise I won’t let sit around. I owe you big for this.”

“Yeah, you do,” Doug said, adjusting his coveralls and the bill of his ratty as all hell Yankees cap. “I missed about six hours of sitting on my couch and watching Judge Judy reruns and all I got was... oh right, ten grand.” He smirked. “Somehow I think I’ll live.”

By then, curiosity was piqued among the wolves, but the tarp over my masterpiece was locked down tight. If anyone wanted a peek, they’d have to tear it, and doing that was strictly forbidden. As it turns out, werewolves are about as superstitious as old women who play gin rummy eight hours a day. And peaking at a marking gift is about the most horrible slight that a wolf can suffer.

Dane, of course, had yet to show up. I rode out in the truck with Doug, which was just fine by me, thank you very much. I hadn’t seen Jake yet either, but that was slightly less surprising. I knew he would be here, but it seemed appropriate somehow that the shamed former alpha not be quite as eager to make an appearance as the conquering warrior.

He’s gotta stick to the plan. Play defeated until Dane’s statue makes its glorious appearance and then I accuse Dane of forcing me. A faked Marking, or a forced one, are almost as offensive as peeking at the gifts.

Either this is going to work, or it won’t, but either way, something interesting is going to happen.

The prospect of an interesting afternoon was no consolation when Dane’s motorcycle, thumped heavily in my ears. He pulled up, alongside five of his closest goons who all had a shockingly similar appearance. Their bikes were significantly smaller, although none were riding bicycles, to their credit.

“Who the hell’s ready for a party?” Dane shouted, as he dismounted. He was obviously expecting some kind of wild ovation, but when none came, he didn’t seem particularly bothered. “You buncha babies! Come on, let’s have some fun! Where’s my brother?”

So the truth comes out, I thought. It always does. This isn’t about me or the pack or anything else. It’s about petty revenge. Figures.

He was loud, big, and... scared?

I saw it momentarily, just for a flash of a second – that tic in his right cheek. The one he had when he started talking about his father and how he had been passed over for the alpha’s spot. There wasn’t a half-second of a chink in the armor, but I’d seen it. Bravado quickly overwhelmed his vulnerability as he started going from table to table, from person to person, slapping them on the back and eating an army’s worth of hors d’oeuvres. Dane was especially fond of little bacon wrapped scallops, which he devoured six or seven plates worth of before I couldn’t watch him anymore.