Read Online Shiftless by Aimee Easterling - Free Book Online Page B

jerked one shoulder up into a shrug, then his mouth quirked upwards as well.  "I had a feeling you weren't sleeping," he answered, and I couldn't help smiling back at him.  In that minute, his eyes looked just like my sister's had when she'd stolen the last piece of pie that was supposed to be our father's, then had shared it with me instead.  The hint of innocent mischief was enough to raise a lump in my throat.  Was I really going to turn this kid over to my father to be turned into a monster?
    And, if not, was there any other way to get out of this situation with my skin intact?
    Just like figuring out how to help Keith tune into his werewolf identity, that question was far too difficult to answer at the end of the world's longest day.  "Look," I said, making up my mind, "I promise I'll tell you far more than you ever want to know very soon, but tonight I'm so exhausted I can't think straight.  What do you do for fun around here?"
    And that's how I ended up playing Dance, Dance, Revolution with a fourteen-year-old boy at midnight in a mansion on top of a hill.  It was the most fun I'd had in years.
     
     

Chapter 8
    The ceramic crack of pool balls drew me into a part of the basement I hadn't yet explored.  I'd thought Keith was still sound asleep, recovering from his near-shift the day before, but instead my nephew was carrying on the family tradition—practicing to be a world-class pool hustler.  He had his feet apart, one hand resting on the table as he lined up a shot with the cue stick.
    "I've been thinking," the kid said without looking up, knowing with a wolf's sensitivity to the surrounding world that I was standing in the open doorway behind him.
    "Your grandfather likes to think at a pool table too," I answered, my mind inexorably drawn backwards to childhood memories of my father honing his skills.  Business meetings always happened in the pool house, which for us had nothing to do with swimming and had everything to do with pocket billiards.  I'd never bothered to learn the game, but Brooke had been nearly as good as our father.  No wonder her house had a pool table in the basement.
    "That's just what I was wondering," my nephew continued, oblivious to my trip down memory lane.  He hit the two ball into the far pocket and walked around the room so he could face me across the table while planning out his next move.  "Dad obviously knew you existed, but I had no clue there was anyone alive on Mom's side of the family.  Then you show up without calling.  Are you in trouble?"
    I was glad that Keith didn't look up to gauge my response to his question, and instead just sank another ball into the near pocket.  The youngster's lack of attention was helpful because my mind was racing.  This wasn't good.  Why couldn't Keith have inherited any of his father's cluelessness?
    Insightful questions like Keith's weren't going to make my mission any easier, but the ensuing interruption was even less welcome.  "Yes, Ms. Wilder, are you in trouble?" Wolfie asked from the open glass doors leading to the outside.  I'd scouted the area briefly when I carried in my belongings the previous afternoon, and I'd noted the security issues resulting from the way the house was built on a hill and opened into the woods on the basement side.  But I had figured my wolf would keep an eye out for danger.  Too bad she'd been caught napping at just the wrong moment.
    Now, my wolf woke with a vengeance, causing Wolfie's musky scent to swallow me in a sudden cloud even as pain ran down my arms and legs.  Despite the danger, the smell was enticing, and I had to shove my wolf out of the way to focus on the alpha.  I could sense Keith behind me feeling the first symptoms of a shift, brought on by my wolf's alertness, so I walked away from my nephew and toward the alpha wolf who had invaded our home.
    Not just invaded our home; he'd invaded my past.  Wolfie's words made it clear that he'd done enough research to track me back