Page 42 of Nanny for the Wolf Daddy

Nox walked toward him, feeling his fists grip together.

“Yes, your old crew,” Nox replied softly. “I thought that might be of some importance to you.”

Andre scoffed, then coughed uncontrollably. He struggled to lift a glass of water to his mouth while holding one finger in the air.

Once he had finished regaining himself, he peered directly into Nox’s eyes.

His were of a gray shade, like Roland’s, but always with a tiny pinprick of dazzling fire-engine red. Nox had known him briefly as a child and heard the legendary stories of his skills as a marine. He had left the pack during that time, and despite being an outcast, his abilities were long sought after.

“So you’ve come to teach an old dog new tricks?” Andre muttered.

“Quite the opposite. I’ve come for your old tricks.”

Andre sighed, then leaned against his cane with his chin. His stare was unwavering, and Nox did his best to match his boldness.

“It was clever mentioning the mate,” Andre said. “A little bit insensitive too.”

Nox shook his head.

“That wasn’t my reasoning. I knew you could understand my predicament. It is your understanding and skills I seek.”

Along with the legendary stories of Andre’s abilities, there was another that haunted the pack, along with Andre’s heart. He had lost his mate during a battle long before Nox was even born, and he had succumbed to the cynicism of life quickly afterward.

It was only with the mention of the mate that Andre looked away, his eyes lost in the past of his love.

“What makes you think I’d even be interested in your quest?” Andre said. “I’ve lost my beloved, and I don’t want anything to do with any wolves. What can you give me in return?”

Nox slowly sat in front of Andre, using the flimsy coffee table to rest himself on. He leaned on his thighs and tried not to absorb the grief he saw pouring out of the ancient man’s eyes.

“You’re right, I can’t bring your beloved back, nor can I give you back the reputation you so sorely miss. But I can help you set that fire aflame again.”

Mounted on the wall was a Barrett M-82 sniper rifle that Nox knew Andre had been famous for. He looked over at it, raising his eyebrows with obvious implication.

Andre laughed again but didn’t lose control.

“You want me to use that thing?” he said, motioning at the weapon with his chin. “The thing that caused me, as well as the world around me, so much agony?”

Nox shook his head.

“I want you to repurpose it, to replace the rust of that skill with the initial adoration you had for it. I want you to use it to help me for good reasons.”

Andre drummed his fingers over the cane, the wheels turning in his mind.

He gazed at the weapon again, his tongue swirling around his mouth in rumination. Nox was confident that he had at least piqued his interest.

“You lost your mate?” he asked.

“I could,” Nox replied. “Along with my brother and his wife.”

Between their silence was the thick stroking of the clock, ominous and bleak. Andre looked at Nox again, then slowly stood, struggling to balance.

“Hand me that,” he said, pointing at the sniper weapon.

Nox was beyond thrilled. He took the gun off the wall, holding it like it was the holy grail. He handed it to Andre, who used Nox’s forearm to stay standing.

“Tell me what you need from me,” Andre grunted.

Nox told him everything about Archie and about, Elise, Nevel, and the plan to rescue them. Andre listened intently and agreed with a full spring of zest in his heart and mind.

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