Montgomery Family 4: Managing A Family Read online

  “Morning, Sunshine,” Philly cooed, not surprised at the glare she received in response.

  “Good. Coffee,” Ashley grunted, laying her head down into her folded arms on the small wooden table.

  “Smells good, huh?” Philly agreed, letting the last of the boiling water steep through the grounds while she put the mugs on the table.

  Ashley opened her mouth to answer when the telephone rang. “Betcha it’s my mom,” she murmured, lifting the out of date handset complete with spiral chord off of the wall.

  “Tell mommy you’ll call her back later, sweetums,” growled a voice from the door. The stained glass that Philly had put in the window shone yellow and blue across the kitchen wall, looking somehow cheerful and ominous at the same time.

  “Stan Timmons,” Ashley squeaked into the phone. It was still a good three or four inches from her mouth and ear. She couldn’t possibly know who was on the phone, Philly thought abstractly.

  “I said hang the fucking thing up!” Stan roared. “You and me got stuff to do!”

  Ashley dropped the phone, letting it bounce to the floor as she backed toward the table, hands seeking randomly for anything to grab.

  Philly tried to transform, was just beginning to, when two strong arms came around her. “Don’t do it, pretty blue eyes,” Stewie sing-songed. “You and me have got stuff to do, too. And I want to do it in this form. It’d sure make me mad if you changed.” He inhaled deeply, his face in Philly’s neck. “Hey, Stan!” he called out. “She’s mated. Damn it, she’s mated one of those curs!”

  “Well, I’ll be fuck-a-monkey,” Stan growled. “Does that mean you mated too?” He was advancing on Ashley now, inhaling deeply. “Goddamn-go-to-hell!” he barked out. “You damn sure did, didn’t you? Well that’s gonna cost ya!” He was moving slowly, seeming to enjoy the threat as a wide-eyed Ashley edged away from him, her hand inching carefully across the surface of the table.

  Seeing what Ashley was doing, Philly wrestled Stewie over closer to his brother. Ashley’s hand was on the pot of boiling coffee that Philly hadn’t yet poured into their cups.

  As soon as her grip tightened on the handle, Philly jerked hard and turned Stewie so that his back was to Ashley and Philly was completely blocked by his bulk.

  “What the fuck are you doin’?” complained Stan, turning toward Philly and Stewie.

  That was all the distraction Ashley needed, grabbing the treated plastic handle and jerking the porcelain covered steel pot filled with boiling coffee. The momentum jolted first the lid and grounds out and then, a second jerk of her arm splashed the boiling liquid all over both Weres.

  In the midst of the twisting and screaming, Philly broke away, grabbing Ashley’s hand in silent communication as they both made for the door.

  Dressed in nightshirts and light bathrobes, Philly didn’t think they were really ready for the great outdoors, but they couldn’t hole up in the house. Ashley tugged her in the direction of the shed.

  It made sense. Ashley couldn’t transform and they wouldn’t get far in bare feet and hardly dressed. Philly had no intention of transforming and leaving Ashley and she knew her friend would know that. They wouldn’t waste time arguing.

  At least in the little shed, they had all of Philly’s stained glass tools. She had heavy steel clamps, sharp brass frames, plenty of copper wire, glasscutters. Even the Plexiglas® sheets could be used as weapons if need be. She had a soldiering gun that could be turned on and would leave a heck of a mark. Yes, if they had to be somewhere, the shed was as good a place as any, and better than most.

  Chapter 18

  “Shit!” Yancey dropped the phone and began to transform. “The Timmons’ boys. Shit, fuck!”

  “Sod all,” Myles rumbled as he slid out of the car, facial hair sprouting as he went.

  “Your car, man, I’ll meet you there!” Yancey scrambled across the bucket seats and out the driver’s side door after Myles, shrugging out of his clothes.

  “Bugger the bloody car,” Myles snarled, running now, Yancey running to keep up with him. His teeth were long and he looked more like a TV version of the wolf man than the suave and urbane saxophone player that he was. “I can get new cars everyday, I’ve got only one mate.”

  The dive itself would have taken about half an hour, less the way that Myles drove. Still, the accident ahead and the bottleneck of traffic guaranteed that they were going nowhere in his car for quite some time.

  They were a little more than thirty miles away from the little cottage by highway and certainly less than that should they travel a more direct route. Yancey hoped that cutting the distance in half would more than make up for not having the amazing horsepower of Myles expensive sports car.

  Yancey harbored no illusions regarding the intent of the two male Weres, nor it seemed, did Myles. Yancey also realized that Philly, who might otherwise have a chance of escape, would die before she abandoned Ashley.

  He forced a little speed out of his four legs and didn’t look back at Myles who was keeping up just fine and not even breathing hard. They would be at the little cottage in no time.

  * * * * *

  “Ashley, who was on the phone before?” Philly asked as the two women wrapped soldering wired around the flimsy doorknob and a hook embedded in the doorframe.

  “I really don’t know, Philly,” Ashley panted, swearing as the soft wire broke off again. “Give me that copper wire over there. This wouldn’t stop my little sister.”

  “Maybe not stop her, but it’ll slow her down. I just don’t have a lot of this, so we’ll have to try to use both,” Philly told her as she tossed the roll of wire lightly.

  “I wish there was a window,” she sighed, putting her ear to the door.

  “It may be to our best advantage that there isn’t this time, Ash,” Philly answered, taking the copper wire and wrapping it around a nail in the frame. “Um,” she looked over at her friend who was busily assembling likely weapons. “You want to tell me what happened with Myles?” Philly asked.

  Ashley faltered and then continued picking up and organizing assorted items. “Um, he, Myles and I, we, I had this dream and then…” she signed on a hitched breath. “No, no I can’t talk about it now, Philly.” Ashley aimed a watery smile at her friend. “It’s gonna be a long time before I can, I think.”

  Philly looked hard at Ashley, biting her lip. She wanted to go to her, hold her, help her. Ashley had always been there for her, most recently she’d been there when Philly had had her fateful mating with Yancey and then these last months since then.

  She couldn’t imagine Myles hurting Ashley physically. No, she couldn’t see that at all. But the man had absolutely no sense sometimes when it came to loving Ashley. It was as if she were a little porcelain doll to Myles and nothing could be done to change that view. Jacob had been right, Myles wanted Ashley to sit on a safe little shelf and wait there for him. She was pretty shocked they’d actually mated, really. She couldn’t believe Myles had let Ashley get dirty that way, much less done it himself. At least that was how she’d imagined he must be perceiving things.

  Philly gave her head a hard shake. She shouldn’t be thinking such things. Her best friend was hurting terribly and here she was thinking such mean things.

  A loud, door-cracking crash brought both Philly and Ashley up short and to attention. Philly could see Ashley fighting the same desire to run and hide that she was struggling with.

  “The door!” Ashley screamed as another weight cracked it.

  Both women ran to the door and threw their combined weight against it, hoping to counter the heavy bodies attempting to break it down. Suddenly, the door flew off the hinges outward, taking both Philly and Ashley with it.

  Philly was vaguely aware of Ashley hitting the ground and rolling, someone, probably Stan landed on top of her. She tried again to transform and once again, Stewie interfered.

  “Oh no, pretty blue eyes,” he growled, his own brownish eyes glowing as he grabbed her throat, clearly half
transformed, his clothing hanging off him in ribbons. “You owe me something and I want it in this form!”

  One thick leg swept under hers and she couldn’t fight him off as he tackled her to the packed dirt and grass. The air whooshed out of her lungs and she struggled, having no luck and simply wearing herself out.

  She could hear Ashley’s muted cries as she refused to open her mouth under Stan’s attentions. “That’s okay, Sweet Thing,” she heard his deep voice grate out, “I don’t need a kiss, I’ll take whatever I want. You’ll be begging…”

  Whatever else he might have said was drowned out by an erupting roar and the sounds of angry wolves trying to kill one another. She felt the blow to her face just before the great weight was lifted. She knew nothing else.

  * * * * *

  Myles heard the loud crack of something heavy breaking wood before he ever made it around the side of the house. The sound of his Princess struggling and crying out added fuel to the raging inferno that drove anger as he entered the small yard in front of the shed.

  The beast within him broke free when he saw his barely-clad mate pinned and fighting under a half naked and half-transformed Were. It didn’t matter who the other was or even what he was.

  He was only logistically aware of Yancey tackling the half-changed Were that had Philly underneath it. The small particle of humanity still sparking in his thoughts told him that this Were might be mentally ill and to try not to kill it.

  He vaguely knew that Ashley wouldn’t want him to kill anyone on her behalf. If he were honest, if he could reason at all, he knew this Were would die not on her behalf but on his. Things were bad between he and his mate right now and this vile creature could only make things worse.

  How easy it would be for him to just snap its neck and toss it away. Instead, it was able to jump at him, bite at him, and only because he was trying not to kill it.

  Finally, tired of the scuffle, Myles picked it up by the shoulders and squeezed both hands until it screamed and then passed out. He was reasonably sure it wasn’t dead. He tossed it away and turned, searching for Ashley.

  “P…” he couldn’t speak. He tried again and breathed deep, forcing himself to be calm. A quick glance told him that Yancey had handled the other Were and was now cradling his limp mate. “Princess?” his voice was more human now and he headed toward the opening of the shed.

  It was cool and dim inside but his eyes adjusted quickly. There she ways, in the corner. He opened his arms to her.

  “Please Princess, come,” he said softly, willing the hair to recede from his face, his teeth back to normal. His voice was still rough but closer, much closer to his usual smooth British tones.

  And then she was there, her hands running all over his arms, his face, his chest. “God, Myles, he didn’t hurt you, did he? Are you okay? Oh god,” she was crying in earnest and he held her. Cradled her against him, savoring the feel, aching for her fear, her worry, anything that ever hurt her.

  “Shh, Princess, shh, I’m not hurt. I’m not a bit of it. Please, Princess, don’t cry. Are you hurt? Did that animal…” he had to stop. Thinking about what he’d seen made him want to go back out there and finish the job, kill the bastard. But no, he wouldn’t think. He would stand in sweet isolation and care for his mate, hold her, keep her, never let her go.

  Noises floating in from outside told him that Yancey had called for help, or someone had. A minute later, there was Tav, leading him out of the shed. There was Tracey, taking Ashley away, going with her. And she was gone.

  Chapter 19

  Yancey stepped out of his car and ran around the other side to open the door for Philly. She’d only been in the hospital for a week but it felt like a lifetime. There had been precious little time to talk or do much more than sit with her, reading her cards and telling her who was coming and who was going until she got used to things.

  A last blow to her head had been delivered by Stewie just before Yancey had launched himself at the other Were. So many times in the eternal week since then, Yancey wished he’d killed the other Were. In fact, Myles had stopped him time after time, literally holding him until he relaxed.

  That last hit, last blow had damaged important nerves behind Philly’s eyes. She might see again, she might not. She could still transform, but she just couldn’t see.

  Close friend, almost a brother himself, Marc Fonteneax and his own brother T Paul had come. They’d helped everyone to understand, to cope. They’d helped Philly, too.

  She would need time to get oriented. She’d have to re-learn everyone’s scent, everyone’s sound. It was possible that she’d regain some vision, though they understood that the longer she was without it, the less likely it was that her nerves would heal. Anything was possible, of course, doctors never say die, according to Marc. Yancey had threatened to teach him how to pronounce it if he didn’t quit.

  According to T Paul, Philly would just have to get used to people telling her she didn’t look and act blind. Otherwise, she’d just live her life as normal, with treatment for the headaches, which would go away in time.

  This minute, Yancey needed to focus, needed to be there for his mate. “Hi,” he smiled, helping her out of the passenger seat. “Would you put your arm around me? We can do this like newlyweds, hmm?”

  She smiled shyly at him, at his voice anyway. “I guess we are newlyweds sort of, aren’t we?”

  “Everyday with you is new and beautiful,” he leaned down and kissed her curved mouth, loving how she kissed him back, how she seemed to want him, even though she couldn’t see him. “You always know where I am and when it’s me,” he blurted out as they made their way onto his front porch. “I mean…”

  “Well,” she smiled holding lightly to his waist. “I’ve been keeping up with your scent and everything since I was eleven years old. It would be really bad if I couldn’t tell where you were now, wouldn’t it?”

  Yancey led her across to the couch and sat, tugging her gently down into his lap. She overbalanced gladly, a little shy, but snuggling up to him all the same. “I’m so glad you’re here with me, Little Mate,” he said in a low voice, fighting tears at the back of his throat. “I was so scared when you were laying there in the grass. I had wasted so much of our time.”

  She reached up with two fingers and laid them against his lips. “We could have both done many things different. It was all part of who we are, who we were, and how we grew up.”

  “How did you become so wise?” he asked her, standing, cradling her small weight against his chest.

  She rested her head against his shoulder as he carried her down the hall to what would be their bed.

  “I lived life, I listened closely, and I screwed up some,” she murmured.

  “I did a lot of that, too, finally,” he whispered, laying her down on the bed.

  “I was so mad at you. I had loved you for so long. And then that one night, it seemed like all my dreams were coming true. You noticed me, and you wanted me. It was just like a beautiful fairytale. And then…” she inhaled deeply, probably fighting tears.

  “And then, like a blind fool--shit, I’m sorry, Little Mate, that was thoughtless,” Yancey winced.

  “Which part, being a blind fool, or saying it?” Philly teased. “Yancey, we both had some growing up to do. And the fact is, I’m blind. I can’t see. That’s just all there is to it.” She turned toward him and he brushed away a tear with the tip of a finger. “I don’t like it, maybe I’ll get used to it, maybe I won’t. I know I’ll be pretty grouchy and impatient about it a lot.”

  “You won’t be able to see your beautiful windows anymore. All of those colors. All gone.” Yancey didn’t want to upset her more than she was. She was right, though.

  Some things just needed to be said out loud. It had been on his mind since the doctor had told him what had happened.

  As a werewolf, Philly’s physiology was different to begin with, the doctors had explained. Yancey didn’t understand everything, though Marc and T Paul ha
d tried to make it clearer for them. The simple fact was that parts of Philly’s brain patterns, nervous system and optical discs were different even from the average werewolf.

  Family doctors would continue to search for ways to treat her and hopefully heal the damaged part of her brain. It was always possible that things would heal and her sight would return. Anything was possible.

  Marc was able to explain that it was even possible that Philly’s unique make-up, combined with what Mik declared was willful and stubborn behavior, had prevented Yancey from clearly identifying Philly as his mate years before.

  “I know I’ll miss my stained glass,” Philly answered him, working to keep her chin steady. He stroked her face, trying to preserve her dignity. “I already miss a bunch of things. I know I’m trying to be tough and you can see me,” she sniffed. “It’s like being in a fishbowl, or being on stage all the time. I just--I guess I’ll get used to it in time. Will you? Will you get used to having a blind mate? Will you be able to let go of all the stuff that happened before?”

  “I will. I can. But sometimes, I won’t be very good at letting it all go. I did it all backward. I claimed my mate and then I fell in love with her. And Little Mate, I learned a lot about you by eavesdropping, by watching you from afar. I should admit that. I should tell you…” she halted his confession with two fingers lightly searching his face until she found his lips, resting them there.

  “Sometimes I knew you were there…or that someone could be watching. Isn’t that just one of the ways we all learn about each other? That’s life,” she grinned, her fingers skimming his cheek to sink into his hair. “It’s okay, I forgive you. I spied on you for eleven years.”

  Yancey burst into startled laughter. “I guess we’re even then,” he chuckled. “Will you make love with your husband now?”

  She opened her mouth to speak and a yawn took over. Laughing, he pulled off her shoes, one at a time, and then her socks, making his way up her legs to remove the rest of her clothes.