Page 38 of Nanny's Mate

She didn’t. She merely rested it on the saucer and then placed that upon her knee. The disappointment in her expression was tangible.

“Mike, my dear, why on earth did you do that?” she asked him. “Do you really think as shifters ourselves, our opinion of you would go sour simply because you found your mate?”

Mike rocked on his feet. Barbara patted the couch next to her, and he followed the unspoken order. When she continued, her tone had readjusted, no longer one of shock but one of humility and reverence.

“Darling, there is nothing wrong with having a mate. In fact, it’s a magical thing that should be celebrated. Wanting to put her first is literally within our nature. Plus, having someone like Beatriz is even more ideal. She’s already so loyal to our family. She will work hard with you to protect the community.”

Mike knew she was right. But something took his attention from the conversation at hand, stealing the matriarch’s attention at the same time.

He turned to the direction of the door in which he’d come. His nostrils flared.

“Is there anyone else in the house?” he asked promptly.

Barbara was as still as a statue. She, too, was on high alert.

“Just the housekeeper that let you in,” she said, sniffing the air. “But that’s not her. It’s more … acidic.”

Her sense of smell was far keener than his own, but he was able to pick up something just as abhorrent. They both rose from the couch and crept downstairs, cautious and ready to jump into battle at a moment’s notice.

Mike saw a gray wolf prowling on the back deck. Mike whispered on the stairs just as the wolf, whose smell he recognized as Franky, approached the back door.

“Where did you say Tristan was?” he asked.

“With the dealer, but then a tip was called in. About the whereabouts of …”

Barbara didn’t need to finish her sentence for the picture to crystallize in Mike’s mind. All at once, he realized that it was a ploy to get Barbara alone while Franky crashed through the glass doors of the kitchen.

The sound was deafening, forcing both Barbara and Mike to shift at spectacular speed. Franky galloped toward them on the stairs and was greeted by Mike, snarling and growling to protect his matriarch.

Barbara was now a mighty wolf with luscious bone-white fur. He knew that when push came to shove, she would be able to hold her own. But the fact that there had been a plan to end her life was sufficient fuel to make Mike fight for his pack.

Franky was surprised to see him as he rounded the corner to the stairway, stalling and skidding as he came upon the two wolves hunched over with deadly glares. But Mike remembered that he’d been formidable in the back alley, not one to give up easily.

So he wasted no time and charged at him before the bastard could get the upper hand.

Mike collided with the gray wolf, his skull connecting with Franky’s gut and sending him into the kitchen from where he came. He smacked down and slid over the broken glass, making him wince in agony. Mike did not let up on him. He had no clue what else was waiting for him in the backyard.

Franky stumbled to his feet, chips of glass sticking to his fur with a couple protruding like tiny diamonds, and ran into the backyard. Both Mike and Barbara followed, knowing that the injuries were not mortal. Franky swayed slightly, but he retaliated quickly, catching Mike by the jaw with a growl that echoed under the bright sky.

It rattled the enforcer, but only for a moment. Barbara took Franky on, her lithe and athletic movements akin to a fresh pup. But she was far wiser and fought with strategy rather than the brute force that many young shifters were possessed by.

She lurched at him, but instead of landing on him the way he must have anticipated, she used her tail to whip at his eyes. It was harsh and connected on his left side, briefly blinding the enemy.

It was then Mike’s turn. He recovered from the snap, a tiny pink line of blood trickling onto his tongue, and gaped his mouth open to wrap around Franky’s neck. He managed to get a grip on him, sinking his teeth into a thin slab of skin.

But Franky was far stronger than he appeared. He thrashed about, gnawing and wriggling, determined to break free. Mike had a flash of thought in his mind that perhaps Franky was on the drugs that were responsible for the tragedy that befell that wolf some time ago.

Because that fucker was strong.

Mike! To me!

Barbara spoke to Mike telepathically, and he knew instinctively what she was asking. With Franky still in the grips of his fangs, he tossed him in Barbara’s direction, the way a football player tosses a pass.

Barbara, in her infinite strength and insight, was able to take Franky’s head between her paws, placing them over his ears like ear muffs. She did not waste time in doing what needed to be done.

Her family was on the line.

Barbara used her arm strength to crack Frank’s neck before he knew what hit him. Quite literally.

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