Page 39 of Nanny's Mate

The sound was guttural, echoing through the empty sky like the severing of a plastic pipe. All of the life drained out of Franky’s face, the look of shock permanently etched in a death stare.

Barbara let his body go with a thud. But relief was yet to come.

Barbara! Watch out!

Mike heard the agonizing call at the same time as the matriarch. Another wolf charged in her direction. They were coming from behind. It was a cheap ploy, but it often led to victory. Hence, Mike knew instantaneously who was coming for them.

But it was a voice that sent chills through his very soul.

The siren call was that of his mate.

TWENTY-TWO

BEATRIZ

Beatriz was able to let out her sorrow before leaving the pack. There really wasn’t much to do, but she found herself dragging her feet. She had fallen in love with the triplets and the Wolfe family. Even before meeting Mike, Blue Creek had nestled into her heart. She was going to deeply miss all of them, the ache becoming as palpable as a knife sinking between her ribs.

She moved through each room, combing through the memories where she and Mike had made love, learning more and more about each other’s bodies, hearts, and souls. She moved through the cabin like a ghost haunting an ancient mansion.

Her limbs felt heavy as the sadness took over. Beatriz wasn’t completely present when she went into the bedroom, which was bathed with beautiful memories. She didn’t notice the various pizza boxes strewn around the garbage until she stepped on a beer bottle, shattering it beneath her foot.

Her wolf senses kicked in as a familiar scent wafted up from the ground. She snapped her head around toward the shadows of the chest of drawers, noticing a horrific sight that pulled her roughly from her trance.

“Good morning, Beatriz.”

The woman who was crouching and groveling in the corner was a woman that Beatriz knew but she wouldn’t have known visually. Her scent wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but the intentions veiled themselves beneath the lemony zest but robust with sinister intention.

“Wallis, what are you doing here?”

Beatriz widened her stance just the way Mike had taught her and Karla. Wallis remained still, utterly unrecognizable in her disheveled, ragged state.

She snickered, the edges of her nails jagged from incessant gnawing. There was a glimmer of something red passing through her normally hazel eyes, a spark of insanity.

“Stupid question from a stupid girl,” Wallis growled. “You should have kept your damn nose out of the Wolfe business.”

Suddenly, it all became clear. Beatriz knew about the drugs and how they took hold of the users. She didn’t know the details, but the transformation in front of her face was enough to tell the story.

Beatriz dug her feet into the floor, then lowered her glare. She watched Wallis closely, who was still sneering with a quiet, disturbing undercurrent of a chuckle. The hazel was nearly completely stained with a hideous streak of red.

“You better get out of here before you regret it,” Beatriz snarled, trying to shield her terror. “Did you hear me? Get out!”

Wallis had no intention of leaving, not without what she came for … a drug-fueled battle.

“Fuck you, bitch! Don’t scream at me,” she shrieked.

Wallis leapt into action, coming at Beatriz with the speed and agility of a flying squirrel. They fought in their human forms, with Beatriz utilizing the combat moves that Mike had taught her, blocking Wallis’s frenzied, pumping fists. After successfully avoiding her attacks, Wallis grew frustrated, and as Beatriz predicted, she went for a cheap shot.

It was something that she'd learned as a shifter, then from Barbara, that when immersed in a heated exchange, you will learn how honorable the battle will go once one side grows frustrated.

If they are worthy, then they will continue to fight fair as far as the rules of engagement go. If they are not, they will do anything to defeat you.

Even if that means sinking to a vulgar level.

Wallis did that by launching her knee between Beatriz's legs. Beatriz expected it and blocked her effectively, catching her legs between her palms. She then slammed her fist down on the flat of the bone, digging her knuckles in with a fearsome strike.

Wallis buckled under the blow, hopping on one leg, then fell with half her body crashing onto the mattress.

She recovered fast, and Beatriz attributed it to the power of the drugs. She crawled on the ground like a demon who emerged from hell, skidding at a terrifying, staccato pace. Beatriz could only imagine the amount of poison she had ingested.

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