Roaring Up the Wrong Tree Read online

  Keen pushed away from the door, wincing when his nails clung to the wood. A quick glance at his fingers revealed what he’d feared. The pink of his human nails were replaced by beastly claws.

  He stretched and flexed his hands, fighting the animal inside him, pushing and shoving the bear back. The ever-present rage that consumed him rushed him, the animal riding in its wake. He stumbled forward and managed to catch himself on the couch. Only this time he was careful. His palm hit the furniture, but he didn’t curve his fingers around the back.

  Forcing his feet into action, he pushed himself to stand once again and resumed his trek. He had the path memorized, ten steps to the hallway, turn right, four steps to the first doorway and another eleven to his bedroom door. Once he got the lock thrown, he wouldn’t care about the rest.

  He managed to make it to the hallway, hand braced on the corner while he took a few breaths.

  The animal bolted onward once again, demanding to be freed. It wanted… something Keen couldn’t give it. For years he’d been this way and for years he hadn’t known how to appease the animal. Oh, it relented for a little while, soothed when he lay with a woman, but before long it’d return to its natural, agitated state.

  How many women had he burned through?

  Too many to count.

  “Keen?” Ty’s voice reached him followed by the heavy tread of his brother striding through the house.

  Fuck.

  “Yeah,” he croaked and swallowed past the dryness of his throat. “What’s up?”

  He didn’t need this. Not now. Maybe after he had some time for yoga and a little meditation.

  “I need you in the kitchen.”

  He cleared his throat again. “Lemme shower and I’ll be right—”

  “Now.”

  Peachy.

  Keen’s beast wanted to chase after Ty, shove him to the ground, and show him who was the stronger bear. Instead, he slumped against the wall and willed his bear back.

  He recognized the scents in the area and sorted through the strength of the aromas. Ty and his mate, Mia, were present. As was his other brother Van and his mate, Lauren. The sweet flavors of Parker were also around. Add in the smell of the den’s cook, Gigi, and they had a full house.

  Keen sought the peace that seemed so elusive, drew it forward as he imagined the nearby lake, smooth and serene. He pictured the scene in his mind. The early morning sun peeked over the mountains, illuminating the area and shining off the water’s placid surface. Fog hovered over the water, shading the murky depths of the lake. No bugs flew through the air, no birds chirped in welcome. No, it was simply a place of nothingness, just Keen and the lake…

  “Keen!”

  Just like that, his tranquility vanished and the sounds and scents of the den invaded him once again.

  “Coming!” He pushed away from the wall and headed toward the voices, but took an indirect route to his destination. Maybe the extra time would give him a chance to calm. He practiced his usual smile, the bit of swagger he always had in his step. Normal, he had to appear normal and then he could hide in his room, battle the bear in private.

  He moved through the living room and brushed the mantel with his claw tips—the bear still hadn’t let up—listening for the expected beep. Once it reached his ears, he continued. That installation of weaponry was operational and secure. Good. No one had tampered with it. That had him moving to the next in the dining room, and on to another in the family room.

  When Ty mated Mia, a lot of trouble appeared on the clan’s doorstep. Because of the fighting and violence, Keen placed several caches of weaponry within the house as well as their territory. Now, they had protection scattered throughout Grayslake. That also meant the occupants had protection against him if he ever lost control.

  As he approached, the voices grew louder, echoing off the home’s walls and ringing through him.

  If only he’d been born deaf instead of crazy.

  “We don’t need Keen. Unless this woman is someone he’s fu— fallen in love with before and he can smooth talk her.” Van. Nice.

  “He might know something we don’t,” Ty snapped.

  “What? The color of her panties?” Van snorted.

  “Isaac said Keen’s smart enough to be our Keeper and he’s done well, so far.” Of course Ty tacked on “so far,” though it was good to hear that Isaac at least had his back. Too bad the male was off helping Mia’s father in Cutler.

  “Right.”

  With every word out of Van’s mouth, Keen’s bear eased closer to the edge of his control. The damned thing wasn’t going to be happy until it bathed in his brother’s blood. That’d be a nice cap to the day.

  Keen’s skin stretched, the tightness of his flesh beginning in his thighs and rippling up his abdomen. Despite burgeoning anger, he slapped a cocky grin to his lips and prepared himself to walk into the kitchen.

  “Look,” Van sighed and Keen imagined him running a hand through his hair in frustration. Well, welcome to his world. “I’m saying that things should be decided within the inner-circle and then we can go from there. Last time I checked, he isn’t part of us. Am I wrong here?”

  Wrong thing to say. In his mind, Keen’s bear roared in a violent protest, rising to its back legs and bellowing his displeasure. It vibrated through him, rattling his bones with the force, and once again he found himself slumped against the wall. Someday, he’d show them why he and the Incredible Hulk had a lot in common. Keen didn’t go green, but he did get very, very angry. And furry. Fuck, why couldn’t things with Helena have held a little longer? At least through today.

  “Van…” There was more than a brotherly threat in Ty’s tone. It was the voice he used when he acted as Itan, and that soothed Keen’s bear a tiny bit.

  “I’m just saying—”

  Keen pushed away from the wall and strode into the kitchen, fighting his bear with every step. He put on a show of strength and bravado when all he wanted to do was curl into a ball in the corner of an empty room. He sank into his loose-hipped walk, and put a grin on his lips that said he’d just fucked his way through Grayslake.

  “What you’re saying is that you don’t care about clan law.” He strolled past his now silent brother and went straight for the fridge. He had to keep the bear occupied—distracted—and grabbing a sugary drink would do for now. The beast was a sucker for sweets.

  As he moved, he kept talking, fighting to keep the tension from his body. “Volume Eight, Section Twelve, Paragraph Thirteen, Sub-section Five, Paragraph Two states any member of a clan holding an authoritative position within the clan is part of said clan’s inner-circle. That includes and is not limited to the Itan.” Keen pointed at Ty with one hand while tugging the fridge door with the other. “The Healer who is currently residing in Cutler, also known as Isaac.” He snared a jug of milk and the chocolate syrup and let the door swing shut. “The Enforcer.” He gestured at Van with the half-empty container. “As well as the Keeper.” He dropped the milk to the counter, placing the chocolate to its left. He pointed at himself.

  Keen snatched a glass from the drying rack and poured the liquid into the container before adding the chocolaty goodness. So far so good. The bear was occupied with pulling information and the impending sweet rather than on killing his brothers. “It goes on to list additional positions which represent the mates of those bears, regardless of their sex, as well as other titles which may become necessary as a clan grows.”

  He took a deep gulp of his drink, letting the cool liquid soothe his animal. One swallow turned into three and then it was all gone.

  He lowered the glass and snagged a paper towel to wipe his face. “As educational as this has been,” for them, not him, “are we going to let Van make up his own laws which means I’m done here? ’Cause,” He waggled his eyebrows. “I got somewhere to be.”

  He let his question trail off as he waited for Ty to either step up or step off.

  And… Ty didn’t say a word.

  Keen sho
ok his head and placed the tumbler in the dishwasher as he ignored the others in the space. Soft whispers reached him, but he didn’t bother trying to decipher the words. None of ’em mattered. The last six and a half months had obviously been a waste and he didn’t know why he even tried.

  With a sigh, he turned back to the small group of people. Lauren was angry, her eyes narrowed and focused on a frustrated Van. Mia, though… Mia was filled with rage, a fury he’d never seen before, and he was thankful it wasn’t directed at him. Her face was red, eyes bleeding black. The Itana wasn’t able to shift, but she did take on animalistic characteristics now and again.

  Her rounded stomach rolled, telling him without words that her ire was upsetting her unborn cub. Not looking at Ty, he approached Mia and placed his hand on her abdomen, resting atop the baby pressing against her flesh, while he put the other on the back of her neck. A gentle squeeze and rub of his thumb had her relaxing into his touch with a soft sigh.

  “Keen…” she moaned.

  “Hush, relax.” He winked. “Lemme cop a feel for a minute.” He’d learned a lot about pressure points and relaxation—it was necessary as he’d grown from a volatile pre-teen to an even more dangerous adult. Now he was able to use it on his pregnant sister-in-law, which pleased his bear and soothed some of the anger coursing through him.

  No one said a thing as he worked, chastely rubbing and petting Mia until she was near boneless. Finally, he released her and stepped back. “All better?”

  “I’m amazed every time you do that,” Mia purred. “Can you teach—”

  “If I was the Keeper, I’d happily share what I know. Since I’m not, I can recommend several physical therapists in the area.”

  “But—”

  Ty overrode his mate and snarled at him. “What do you mean ‘if I was the Keeper’?”

  Keen raised a single brow and crossed his arms over his chest. There was no question that Ty was the Itan and he was dangerous as hell. What Ty still hadn’t figured out was that Keen was as threatening, if not more so.

  There’s being strong and smart—like Ty—and then there’s strong and crazy.

  Keen happened to be strong and crazy smart. He just wasn’t driven to lead like Ty.

  “Van, as the Enforcer and second only to the Itan, indicated I’m not part of the inner-circle. Your silence was acceptance. If I’m not in the inner-circle, I’m not the Keeper. Follow the logic and if all else fails, I have the volumes in my now old office.” With that, he turned from his brother, his family, and headed toward his room.

  This was another encounter of many that reinforced one thought: the people who were supposed to mean the most, who were supposed to love him, didn’t give a shit about him.

  The bear rumbled its agreement even as it made fun of him for sounding like a girl.

  Whatever.

  He strode into his room and moved to kick the door closed only to have his movement halted by a soft voice.

  “Keen, wait.” Great. Mia followed him.

  With a sigh, he turned to Mia. Even if she weren’t his Itana, he’d always do as she asked. She was the sister he never had and never wished for.

  “Yes?”

  “They don’t mean to be so…”

  He dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. “Yeah, they do and it no longer matters.” He looked to her. “I’m goin’ out for a while.”

  Mia frowned and padded toward him. “You don’t look good. How are things with Helena?”

  “It’s over.” Keen shook his head, regretting that he spoke the truth. His relationship with Helena was the shortest one yet and that had him more worried than he’d like to admit.

  “Already?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded, no longer meeting her gaze. “I’m gonna get outta here. Maybe search for an apartment.” He flashed her a half-grin. “A guy can’t live with his brother forever, right?”

  “But—”

  Keen closed the distance between them and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. He drew strength from the chaste, quick touch, allowing the skin-on-skin contact to soothe his bear. It was a quick recharge, a flash of calming, but it’d hopefully get him through the next few hours as he searched out a new place to stay.

  Because staying in the clan den? Yeah, that just wasn’t happening.

  Chapter Two

  “Jerry, that just ain’t happening.” Trista pressed two more buttons on the register and caught the cash drawer as it slid open.

  “Aw, c’mon, Tris,” her boss whined, actually whined. The man was pushing fifty and acted like a three-year-old.

  “Nope. I’ve gotta be on deck at Left Bank at eight.” She passed over the customer’s change and hip-bumped the register closed. “That means no staying late today.”

  “But, Ronnie—”

  Ugh. Ronnie always had something going on that ended with her not showing up and Trista staying late. “I get what you’re saying about Ronnie, but I don’t have a choice. I either stay here and work or get fired from my job at Left Bank. A job I really, really need.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You need this job, too.”

  Yes, she did, but Left Bank paid better plus she got tips. Too bad she couldn’t say that to him. “I know and I appreciate everything you did for me after…” After her mother disappeared. “But I need both jobs and I’m working the shift I got here. I can’t stay late. Call Ronnie back and tell her she needs to come in or see if somebody else can fill the spot. I know Tommy was looking for extra hours. Call him.”

  Trista focused on the next customer, grabbing his twenty and presetting pump four so the guy could fill up. “All set, have a great day.”

  So intent on her job, she didn’t notice Jerry’s approach until it was too late. Suddenly his wide body was against hers, pressing forward until he had her cornered in front of the register.

  “How appreciative?” The rancid scent of cigarettes and beer overwhelmed her, filling her nose, and that animal part of her snarled an objection.

  Bile rose in her throat, but she swallowed it down, pushing it back. She opened her mouth and drew in a breath, hoping to avoid smelling him. Except doing that made her taste his aroma.

  She was gonna puke on her boss.

  “Huh, Trista? Just how appreciative are you? I gave you a lot of time off when you went looking for your momma…”

  Yup, total pukefest coming right up. But what did she expect from him? A person couldn’t get anything for free. It was always “give a little, take a lot” in her life.

  “You needed to save a few bucks and you hadn’t fired Pippa yet. You didn’t have room on the schedule for me.” She leaned away from him, fighting for clean air. She hated this, hated that she had to deal with sexual innuendo and the disgusting feel of Jerry’s body on hers. If she didn’t need this job…

  “Pippa,” he sneered.

  Yeah, she was kinda in love in a non-lesbian way with that girl, who had placed a knee in the right place and sent Jerry to the ground when he’d gotten too close. She’d been able to throw away her job. Jerry’s had been a part-time, summer position before she went off to college. Four months later, and the cold of winter bearing down on the towns, it still made her smile.

  For Trista it was a won’t-eat-without-it kind of position.

  The bell announcing a new customer dinged and her boss eased back, but his presence remained.

  She caught sight of the newcomer out of the corner of her eye and directed her attention to him with a wide smile. His presence saved her. At least, this time around. “Good evening.”

  The man grunted and kept on walking, disappearing between the aisles. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t see him any longer. The man’s presence was enough to deter Jerry.

  Her boss glared at her, narrowing his eyes as if he’d read her thoughts, and then he stepped away. Bodies no longer touching, his scent ceased to overwhelm her with the spoiled flavors.

  “I’ll be in the back doing inventory.”

  Also k
nown as drinking.

  “Sure thing.” She flashed him a smile—relieved she wouldn’t have to deal with him for a while—which earned her a scowl.

  Jerry stomped through the small store, weaving along the aisles and snagging a bag of chips before he disappeared into the back. His absence let her relax and her shoulders slumped as she released the breath she’d been holding. The tangy scent of him still lingered, but at least it wasn’t as bad as before.

  Trista leaned over the counter and let her gaze sweep the interior of the small store. She noted the top of that guy’s head rising above the aisle; damn, the guy had to be at least six feet to be visible like that. Part of her wanted to get a good look at him, but the other part of her wanted him to take his time. The quicker he finished, the quicker he left, and the quicker Jerry would be back.

  Unfortunately, no matter how much time she wished he’d take, he showed up at the counter five minutes later. She glanced at the door Jerry disappeared through and mentally groaned. The man was peeking out at her, seeming to be waiting for her to finish with the guy.

  Then he’d pounce. Again.

  Pasting on an all-too-fake smile, she focused on her customer. “Find everything you need?”

  He grunted. Wow, she got a talker. Which was okay since he was pretty to look at. He really was over six feet of lean, muscled hotness. His brown, shaggy hair nearly covered his eyes and he tossed his head to swing it aside. That gave her a good look at his face, at his chocolate brown irises, strong jaw, and slightly crooked nose. Someone had broken it at some point. Rather than take away from his appeal, it enhanced it. A dark scruff decorated his cheeks and she wondered if the hair would prick her palm when she stroked them.

  That thought reminded her she didn’t need a man, smoking hot or otherwise, when her life was so craptastical. Hell, even if it were fantastic, she didn’t need the complication of a guy. He’d want her to lean on him, depend on him, and that wasn’t happening.

  Fool me once shame on you… She wasn’t gonna be fooled twice. She couldn’t afford to.

  Snagging his items, she quickly scanned them, letting the register tally his purchases. When she announced the final cost, he still didn’t focus on her. Nope, he handed over his credit card. One quick swipe and then she had his receipt.