Page 85 of Marked

At least, I hoped it would be. Rick had done afinejob hiding it from me.

“Oh, shit,” I said, realizing something with that last thought.

“What’s wrong?”

I looked at Nate, worry and horror coursing through me. I didn’t know how things would go, but it sounded like, no matter what, I’d be forced to confront it head-on.

“Is Rick in the Toronto-Ottawa pack?”

Nate grimaced. “Yeah. He is. You’ll be pack mates. Apparently, the Masters family are high up in the ranks. I’m told that Rick’s father has been trying to find a way for him or his son to become leader of the pack.”

“So, Rick’s father is a shifter, too? What about his mother?” I remembered the pissy way she’d ignored me at the gala and ground my teeth in irritated frustration.

“No. She’s human. Like I said, it’s fairly routine for shifters to take human mates sometimes.”

“You’re saying Rick’s dad is a shifter? That means Rick wasn’t bitten like me, right? He was born this way?”

Nate sighed heavily and sat back on his elbows, leaves crinkling under him. “You are a very rare case. Shifters almost never bite humans. When it does happen, they only turn to shifters if someone in their direct male lineage was a shifter. That means your father, grandfather, great-grandfather, et cetera, was a shifter down the line somewhere.” He looked at me intently. “Honestly, it’s incredibly uncommon. You’re more likely to win the lottery than to have it happen. Sorry you’re a wolf instead of a millionaire,” he added with a smirk.

“So, this is all because of my father’s bloodline?” I asked, the revelation making me uncomfortable.

“Yeah. The gene is dormant in the female line.”

I’d never known my father. I was a baby when he disappeared. Knowing that this new and bizarre part of my lifewas somehow brought about by a man I’d never met was hard to fathom.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Nate said, lifting his hand to my collarbone, “what’s the story with this?” He fingered the small silver medallion on my neck. “I thought it was silver at first, but it doesn’t burn my skin or smell bad,” he said.

“Wait,” I said, frowning at him. “Silver willburnour skin?”

He winced. “Yeah. It’s probably where the wholesilver bulletmyth came from for werewolves. There’s a lot you’ll need to learn about.”

“Geez,” I muttered.

“That can wait for later. Tell me about it,” he said, nodding to the necklace.

“It’s the Virgin Mary,” I said, touching it. “I think it’s stainless steel. Silver would have been too expensive. Back in Zamora, we were even poorer than we are now.”

“Big religious family?”

I shrugged. “Not really. My grandmother gave it to me the last time I saw her, which was years and years ago. The family still in Mexico are devout, but…”I sighed and shook my head. “Hard to go to church when you’re busy trying to make money for rent and getting your brother fed and clothed.”

“No rings or bracelets, just the necklace?”

“I’m not big on jewelry.”

He narrowed his eyes and gave me a lopsided grin. “I hear multiple levels of bitterness in that response. Care to share with the class?”

“It’s my mom,” I said, gazing off into the woods. In the distance, I could hear the steady hum of traffic in the city and the faint hiss of the nearby river. I could almost believe we were somewhere other than Toronto. Maybe it would be good tobesomewhere else.

“She’s big on jewelry,” I continued. “Every ex-boyfriend or ex-fiancé gave her stuff. She still wears almost all of it, usually a bracelet on each arm and several rings. I hate when she wears it. It all reminds me of the people who’ve left her high and dry. The only reason I wear this is to remember my family back home.”

“I can respect that,” Nate said, lowering his head. “I never knew my family. If I did, and they were worth a damn, I’m sure I’d want to have something that reminded me of them.”

“Is that why you aren’t in a pack? Because you’re an orphan?”

“Sort of,” he said. “The bigger issue is that I never felt the call to a pack. I’ve been on my own so long, it’s hard for me to really trust other people. Being a lone wolf is difficult. In the shifter world, you’re sort of an outcast. Like I said, most lone wolves eventually end up feral. Other shifters have a hard time looking past the stigma. We aren’t welcome in regular shifter society. They’ll hire someone like me who has the skills they need, but once the job’s over, they pay me and tell me to hit the road.”

The way he said it made me think something deeper was going on in his mind. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but one thing didn’t make sense, so I voiced it.

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