Page 35 of Until Forever Comes
“Do you hear that?” Miguel asked after some time.
I lifted my head and perked my ears up. “That’s my sister,” I said.
Miguel took in a deep breath. “It’s showtime.”
Chapter 15
“ANDhow do we know we’ll be safe?” Richie snapped at Miguel. He was standing in front of Crissy, blocking her from our view. “How do we know this here ain’t no trap?”
Miguel sneered at him, his dour expression doing nothing to hide the disdain he had for my kind.
“Richie,” I said, pulling his attention away from my mate. He jerked his head toward me. “We’re all standing in a dark alley right now. If we were going to trap you, wouldn’t this be a better place than the diner down the street? Like Miguel explained, we want to go to the diner so we can sit down somewhere lit and show you papers.”
I didn’t mention that the need for light was for their benefit, not ours. Miguel could see in the dark better than most people could see in the sunlight. And since he had been feeding from me, my night vision had improved along with my energy level and strength.
“Well, iffen y’all wanted to meet at a diner, why didn’t you say so in the first place? Why’d you tell us to meet in this here alley?” he asked, completely ignoring the logic I’d just tried to impart.
“Maybe they were worried about a trap too, Richie,” my sister said quietly, likely intending for her words to be heard by her husband alone so his pride wouldn’t be damaged.
But I heard her just fine, and based on the small smirk that came and went from Miguel’s face right quick, I was guessing he’d heard her too. Along with remarkably good night vision, my hearing was sharp as a tack. My mate had truly healed me.
Feeling unaccountably grateful, I turned to him, pressed my chest to his, and circled my arms around his waist. I forgot for a moment about Richie and Crissy and alleys and maps and thought only of the man in my arms.
“You okay, baby?” he whispered into my ear as he cupped my nape and gave me a supportive squeeze.
“Better than,” I answered. “Just wanted to hug you, is all.”
“Good. You feel free to do that anytime.”
“This here vampire is truly your mate?” Richie asked, taking me off guard and tearing my attention back to my surroundings.
“He is,” I said proudly. “Miguel is my true mate. We tied together and claimed each other.”
Richie flinched, seeming a mite uncomfortable, but then his stance relaxed and he took Crissy’s hand in his and stepped closer to us. “All right, then. Let’s go to that there diner and take a look at what your mate has to show us,” he said.
I smiled and leaned against Miguel, who was still standing behind me. I felt him lower his head and then his hot breath ghosted over my ear. “That’s it? We’ve been standing out here arguing because, like a typical shifter, he wouldn’t listen to reason, and now he’s suddenly willing to follow us to the diner?” He shook his head and furrowed his brow. “I think he’s up to something.”
I chuckled and turned around, resting my palm on my Miguel’s cheek. “You do realize you sound just as suspicious as Richie, right? He was being careful, is all.”
“And then all of sudden he changed his mind. Doesn’t that strike you as strange?”
“No. It strikes me that he wasn’t sure whether I was telling the truth about you being my true mate and now he believes me.”
He tilted his head to the side. “And what does that have to do with him changing his mind about going to the diner?”
Richie and Crissy had reached us, and Miguel was no longer talking quietly, so they heard him.
“You’re Ethan’s mate,” Crissy said. “That there makes you family. I’m real pleased to meet you, Miguel.”
From the look on Miguel’s face, I knew he still wasn’t clear on what had changed, but he didn’t say anything else. He just wrapped his hand around my elbow and started walking to the diner.
“Wait, wait. Hold on up for just one minute now,” Richie said. He was leaning over the table, his palms flat on the map and his gaze darting around the page. “What do you mean they’re fixin’ to sell our pack lands?” He looked up from the paper and glared at Miguel. “Who said that there land is theirs to sell? Our pack has been there for generations.”
“Who said… they said. They’re the government. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been living there. If you don’t own the land—”
“What does that even mean?” Richie interrupted. “It’s land. Dirt and trees and wind and sky and such. We don’t own the land, we share in its gifts.”
At that comment, my big, strong, gruff mate rolled his eyes like a put-upon child. “That’s a very nice philosophy,” he said, though his tone sounded less than sincere. “But that’s not how the world works. Land is owned by people, and if they don’t want to let anybody elseshare in its gifts, that’s their right. So, if your pack wants to keep this land, they need to buy it.”
