Chapter Three: Wolf Hunting, Covert
Seattle was quieter and smaller than many cities Anastasia had seen. It was newer, too. Vienna was old and great, Kiev older and greater still, and Rome the oldest and greatest of any city where Anastasia once lived. But for the purpose of hunting, Seattle was as good as any and better than some.
Eyes rolling into the back of his skull, the unfortunate homeless man gave a strangled gasp as Emelyan snapped his head back by the ear and sank his venom-coated teeth into the human's neck. Anastasia watched impassively. She herself hadn't eaten; Emelyan's appetite was greater than hers and his control far less impeccable. So it was Anastasia who first noticed when the other coven came.
Emelyan dropped the deflated body just as Anastasia called, "Seattle is not claimed."
Four white forms dropped from the rooftops above, landing in tight formation in front of the mated pair. Three red-eyed vampires—one a newborn—dropped to a tense crouch behind the coven leader. She was tall, slender, radiated authority, and was possibly Vietnamese. "We claim it," she said smoothly. "And you have hunted on our territory."
"Peace," said Anastasia. "We are passing through. Two days, no longer."
"This is unacceptable," said the coven leader. Anastasia examined her closely. She couldn't have been older than a decade, but there was something about her which the ancient vampire liked very much. Anastasia felt her mate's hand on the small of her back and withdrew, letting Emelyan take the lead.
"What is your name, child?" said Emelyan benevolently. He was using his gift of powerful persuasive speech, a talent which had before taken in vampires hundreds of years older and many times more powerful than the young woman from Seattle.
"Butterfly," she answered breathlessly, succumbing.
"Won't you let us feed here, Butterfly?" he asked. "We are not a threat to your coven. We are only nomads on our way to Canada."
Butterfly appeared ready to acquiesce, but then she grabbed the neck of the male coven-mate on her left for support; her face immediately stiffened and she growled, "No. And I want her to do the talking from here on out, old man."
"As you wish," he agreed affably. "But it was worth a try. You are gifted too, are you not?"
"Stop talking!" she barked. "My gift is my own."
"Is it? You draw strength from your coven-mates, yes? How fragile," Emelyan said, "for if I were to—" and he darted lightening fast to the crouching vampire on Butterfly's right, dragged him away from his coven and tore his head off. He drew a lighter from his pocket and burned the body where it lay. The head he saved from the flames; the screams it emitted were ghastly.
Butterfly and her remaining coven-mates froze, transfixed by the fire and pain, but Emelyan smiled and breathed deeply. "You are much diminished," he said softly. "Has your mind changed?" He left the lighter lit.
"You'll regret carrying that thing around one day, old man," Butterfly growled. "You're flammable too."
Emelyan shrugged. "Perhaps. On the other hand..." In an instant he was at Butterfly's side, she in a chokehold with the lighter to her throat.
Butterfly seethed underneath her fear. "You have my permission to hunt."
Emelyan withdrew instantly to Anastasia's side. He bowed formally at the raging coven leader. "Our thanks. We will take care not to disrupt your normal feeding patterns. Our effect on the herd will be minimal."
"See that it is."
Emelyan bowed again, and then all five vampires disappeared into the night.
Oh, god, her ankle hurt. Mollie woke up on an uncomfortable bed in a clean white room. The only light streamed in through a large square window, but the sun must have been on the opposite side of the building, because it was too dim for Mollie to see much. Where was she? She opened her mouth to ask, but only a garbled jumble came out.
"Hey, she's awake!" someone whooped. "Hey doc, she's awake!" The lights were switched on and the door flung open, heavy feet running out of the room and down a hall. When Mollie's eyes adjusted she recognized the room as one of the Community Hospital. Well, shit. What on earth had happened? Bits and pieces drifted back to her until she thought she had a reasonably clear idea of the last night's events. She'd gone looking for a giant silver wolf—stupid—and fallen down a hill—stupider—and somehow ended up in the hospital with what felt horribly like a broken ankle.
Propping herself up on her elbows, Mollie watched the door, waiting for someone to enter. She heard voices murmuring down the hall. Dr. Kelly Bean walked in, after a minute.
"Hey, Mary Mollie," she said, holding back a grin. "You really did a number on yourself this time, kid."
"Did I?" groaned Mollie. "It's because I'm just so damn lucky, Dr. Bean."
"Kelly," said Dr. Bean.
"Mollie," said Mollie.
". . . That works better when Carlisle's here too," said Dr. Bean. "Oh, c'mon, laugh. That was funny and you know it."
Mollie smiled and ignored her last comment. "Dr. Bean, what happened? I remember going into the woods . . ."
"Which was stupid."
". . . and falling down a hill," Mollie plowed on, "and breaking my ankle."
"All incredibly dumb. Damn, kid, I thought you were smarter than that."
Mollie allowed her selective hearing to kick in. "But I don't remember leaving the woods, and no one knew I was in there. How did you find me?"
Dr. Bean blinked in surprise. "Well, you called 911, remember? And they sent out a search party. It's amazing they found you so quickly, with all the snow. Half the town was out looking. One of those big Quileute boys found you."
Quileute? "What was his name?" Mollie asked.
Dr. Bean looked at her strangely before answering. "Embry Call. Big guy. Nice abs."
There was a wolf whistle from the hallway. Dr. Bean leaned away from Mollie and yelled out the open door, "I told you, she's fine, now leave!"
"Alright, alright. Jesus Christ, woman," said a voice with an audible scowl. The voice was similar in pitch and tone to Embry, but definitely not him.
Dr. Bean shook her head, but she was smiling. "He's barely left your side, actually. Embry, I mean."
"Has he? Where's he now?" she asked, the words tumbling from her lips unbidden
"His friends dragged him off to the cafeteria about ten minutes ago, but he made one of his friends stay in case you woke up. That's Seth Clearwater outside. I think it really tore Embry up, finding you unconscious and hypothermic in the snow. He thought you weren't breathing."
Mollie shivered unconsciously. "I'm glad they're making him eat."
"You need to eat too, Mollie. I'll have the nurses bring you something in an hour or so. In the meantime—well, I have doctor stuff to do with you." Dr. Bean switched into a flight attendant voice. "So, how are you feeling?"
"My ankle?"
"Well, yeah, that," she said, dropping the affectation. "But the ankle's not the main issue. You're really here for mild hypothermia."
"Oh. I don't feel cold anymore," Mollie said.
"Good. Very good," nodded Dr. Bean. "You shouldn't, with the amount of aggressive rewarming we put you through. And your ankle?"
"It hurts," Mollie said, attempting to move the ankle in question and failing, "but I've broken it before and somehow managed to survive. I think I'll be okay."
"Alright. We'll probably keep you one more night and kick you out in the morning. Sound good?"
"Very," Mollie nodded.
"Well, we're done, then," said Dr. Bean. She cocked her head left and listened. "Good timing, too. I think you've got visitors." She rose from the little straight-backed chair and left the room, leaving the door open as she did.
It didn't stay open for long. Embry Call, whose last name Mollie only learned ten minutes ago but whose face she felt she'd always known, closed it behind him as he walked in. He was holding a box of chocolates, which he placed awkwardly on the bed by Mollie's feet. Mollie smiled and motioned for him to take the chair. He sat down, not quite meeting her eyes. "So . . . how are you feeling?"
"Better," she said. Mollie reached out her hand to his and grabbed hold of his warm hand. It was astonishing how well they matched, despite the size difference. Both had russet-colored skin, but it was more than that—something about the way they meshed made Mollie almost believe they were two parts of the same whole. "Thank you," she said with heartfelt gratitude. "You saved my life last night." She didn't let go of his hand when she was done, and he was forced to meet her eyes. When he did the change was instantaneous. Now Mollie knew she'd felt something two days ago. Was this normal? Mollie supposed so, but even if it wasn't she couldn't bring herself to care.
Embry looked a bit pained. "I wish you hadn't been out there at all," he whispered. "You looked so small, and so cold . . . your lips were turning blue. I thought you were going to die." Mollie shivered at the thought.
"It wasn't one of my most intelligent moments," she admitted. "I really screwed up. I saw—or maybe I thought I saw—a—well, no. It's stupid and I can't have."
"Can't have seen what?" Embry asked, his face inscrutable.
"A wolf. Large, silver-colored guy. At least, I think it was a guy. I guess it could have been female."
"Not possible," Embry said after a moment. "Wolves don't come that close to towns. In fact, I don't think there are any wolves on the peninsula anymore. They're extinct. South of Canada, at least." He shifted uncomfortably in the hardwood chair and broke eye contact with Mollie.
"Liar," coughed a voice outside the room, and there was a scuffling noise from the hallway. Embry growled and shot a pained look toward the door.
"Did you hear something?" he asked Mollie.
"Nope," Mollie said pleasantly, popping the 'p'. She concurred with the disembodied voice. Embry was lying about something. Maybe multiple somethings. She knew she hadn't made the phone call, and she knew she'd seen the wolf, and—oh, god. The voice from last night. That was Embry. She was sure of it.
But she wouldn't say anything yet. He'd saved her, which was good, but he was lying about it, which said not good. Mollie liked this guy, a lot. She didn't really want to know, not yet.
So she changed the subject. She asked him about school, his family, his friends, himself. He threw questions back at her too. The more Mollie knew, the more she liked him. She wondered if he felt the same way about her. He told her about growing up with a single mother. Her stories were the same. How his favorite colors were midnight blue and red. He learned hers was green. How the first time he rode a bike, he crashed headfirst into a tree and broke his left arm, and how there was still a lump in his ring finger where he jammed it playing basketball at age ten. She told him about her bone condition, about how she'd grown up alone and her best friend was her mom. About Jess, Lindy, and Brett from school, and about the college scholarships she was applying for. How she wanted to be a surgeon. They found they had more in common than to which any two people had any right. Mollie thought maybe she was falling just the tiniest bit in love. Or maybe that was an exaggeration. She wasn't exactly sure how to distinguish love from a crush anyway.
After half an hour of non-stop conversation, neither spoke now. It was too awkward for Mollie, and she blurted out the first question she could think of. "Have you ever been in love?"
Embry froze and the two blushed together, then looked away. Mollie cursed herself silently. Both were saved the awkwardness of response when a snigger echoed from down the hallway. Mollie turned to Embry with a question on her lips, but he covered her mouth with his hand and held a finger to his lips. Wide-eyed, she nodded understanding. He withdrew the hand, soundlessly edged off the chair, and darted across the room to the door.
Pausing to wink at Mollie, he waited three long seconds, then yanked the door open and jumped out of the way at lightening speed as a crowd of Quileute boys who had obviously been eavesdropping fell inwards and on top of each other. One boy, a handsome teenager slightly younger than Embry, managed to keep his balance. He walked on top of the piled bodies, making sure to lightly kick one of the boys in the ear as he passed.
Just as he was about to touch down inside the hospital room, Embry's arm snaked out to grab his ankle, tripping him into face-planting on top of the others. Embry chuckled loudly, warm and rich. Mollie's delighted laughter echoed him a second later.
The other boy muttered, "Fuck you, Embry," into the floor, but he was up and smiling and at Mollie's bedside an instant later. "Seth Clearwater," he said cheerfully, shaking her hand. Seth ignored the chair, which Embry quickly reclaimed, in favor of the hospital bed itself, sitting by Mollie's feet. "So, you're the famous Mollie," Seth teased. "It's hard to tell, but I think Embry's got a crush." Mollie blushed. Seth picked up the box of chocolates, and said, "Fancy," nodding approval. "But the coconut ones are gross. And you never know which ones they are."
"They're the heart shaped ones with the little dark swirl on top," Mollie said. "Always the same."
"Are they really?" Seth said, surprised. "Embry, she's a keeper." Mollie blushed again. She'd blushed more in the past three days than in the entire year before them.
"Hey, Mollie," Seth said, grabbing her wrist to look at the hospital band. "Why's the bracelet say Mary Guenever?"
"Mollie's just a nickname," she answered. "That's my legal name."
"Why's Guenever spelled like that? Isn't it usually spelled G-u-i-n-n—uh, well, different?"
"Yes, but this is the spelling used in The Once and Future King," Mollie said. When she saw the look of blank incomprehension on both Embry's and Seth's faces, she added quietly, "That's a book. By T. H. White. It's very good."
"I'll read it," promised Seth. The other four Quileute boys slowly picked themselves out of the dog pile, throwing dirty looks at Embry and each other as they did. Mollie noticed how similar they all looked, despite the obvious age gaps. The oldest must have been at least twenty-five, the youngest no older than sixteen but with a face that suggested much younger. One Mollie recognized as Brady, who had brought Kim to the emergency room on Tuesday. The others she didn't know.
"That's Jared," Seth named the oldest as the four filtered over. "And Collin, and—well, you know Brady, and ickle Nicky Mora."
The youngest scowled. "Nick Mora." He flexed his considerable muscles as if to dispel the comment about his obvious youth. They were all ridiculously muscled, Mollie thought, blushing faintly.
Embry's eyes swept over his five friends and he frowned. "Where's Jake? He said he'd be here."
"He's with Nessie," Seth said, glancing cautiously at the girl in the hospital bed. "She needed to go, uh, hiking." Embry shot a pained look at Seth. "Wanted. Wanted to go hiking," corrected the smaller man.
"Who's Jake?" Mollie ventured. She shrank into the pillows as six sets of eyes turned towards her.
"He's my boss," said Embry. "And my best friend."
"Oh." Mollie expected the Quileutes to trickle out soon, but they instead settled on every available surface in the room, leaning against the walls, sprawling across the floors and unoccupied hospital beds, and draping over chairs. Nick attempted to settle on Mollie's bed next to Seth but Embry tossed him off with a smirk and he crashed on the floor instead.
They stayed for hours, but seemed to understand Mollie's unspoken wish for quiet. Jared napped in a corner; Embry and Seth held a conversation in tones too low for Mollie to hear. Nick crept stealthily back onto the foot of the bed and entertained Mollie for half an hour by tossing the chocolate truffles almost to the ceiling, bouncing them off his nose and forehead and into his mouth (the game ended with the box empty). A nurse came in with Mollie's lunch after a while, but Collin and Brady took one look at it, wrinkled their noses, and ordered pizzas instead.
When the pizzas came, Mollie wasn't sure whether to be impressed or disgusted by how quickly they disappeared. After the pizzas were gone, Dr. Bean came back, surveyed the mess of the hospital room, and ordered, "Out!"
The boys appeared ready to protest, but then a wolf howled in the distance. Mollie watched the Quileute boys' ears prick up as they turned in concert towards the window. They hastily cleaned up the pizza, mumbling apologies as they went, then filed out the door, leaving Embry, a bemused Dr. Bean, and Mollie behind. Embry looked guiltily in the direction of the wolf, but he stayed put in the chair.
"Wolves," Mollie said. Embry's guilty look was now directed towards her.
"Well, wolf," he mumbled.
Mollie snorted inwardly. Why would he bother lying about something like the conservation status of wolves on the Olympic peninsula? Unless—there was a connection between Embry and the silver wolf. The wolf had disappeared just as Embry appeared. The wolf didn't exist in the official story, but Embry and Mollie both knew it existed. Well, Annie, get your gun, because Mollie was going wolf hunting.
In such a way that no wildlife was harmed, of course. She wouldn't actually shoot the damn thing.
Dr. Bean decided that willful ignorance was probably the best course of action. She didn't mention the Quileute boys' odd behavior as she moved around the hospital bed, checking various monitors. She was twenty-six years old, in her second year of residency, and she'd seen far weirder things many times before. "Embry, you need to head out soon, too."
"I will, I will," he mumbled. "Mollie, you're coming to the bonfire, right?"
"Well, I . . ."
"Aw, come on," he begged. "Kim'll be pissed if you don't show. And I really want you to go too."
"I would," she hedged, "But I'm not sure if I'm allowed, after last night."
"I'll talk to your mom myself if that's what it takes, kiddo," cut in Dr. Bean. "But I don't think she'll be mad enough to stop you from going. And if it's the foot you're worried about, don't. You'll be fine to go so long as you take crutches. Trust me, I'm a doctor."
Mollie and Embry rolled their eyes in unison. "She's a doctor, Mollie," said Embry. "I bet she's even got a t-shirt to prove it."
"Don't I?" grinned Dr. Bean, opening up her lab coat to reveal a Dr. Who t-shirt with the line printed on it.
"I'll go," decided Mollie. "Although, I'm not sure exactly where it is."
"First beach," said Embry, grinning like he'd won the lottery. "You want me to pick you up?"
"No need," said Mollie. "I have a car."
"I've got two," said Embry, grinning wider. "What time?"
"Whenever."
"Barbecue starts at seven. I'll pick you up at a quarter to, if that's alright." He grinned again. Mollie liked his smile.
"Very nice, lovely, adorable, now out," said Dr. Bean, shaking her head. She shooed Embry out the door, ending with an ineffectual push.
"Six-thirty, don't forget!" he called, just as she shut the door in his face. Dr. Bean fanned herself dramatically as she walked back to Mollie's bedside.
"Good choice," she said to Mollie. "He's got nice abs even with his shirt on."
"Thanks, doc!" Embry called, muffled by the door.
Dr. Bean sighed. She opened the door and yelled, "Out, and stay out!" before re-slamming it with interest.
"Yes, ma'am!"
The young doctor sighed again. "Hot, but annoying. Oh, hey, I think your mom's coming up."
Helen Ember entered the room just as Kelly Bean left, and she was mad. "I have no idea what on earth you were thinking, young lady, but that adventure of yours last night was the stupidest thing I have ever seen, bar none," she seethed, plopping into the bedside chair. "What were you doing! Don't answer that. I don't want to know. Didn't you stop to think? Didn't you stop to put on shoes? I promise you, when you get home, that window screen will be sealed on permanently. What's wrong with the front door, anyway? Too tame?" Mollie smiled patiently through her mother's tirade. "You could have died. Died! Thank god for Embry Call!" she finished, throwing her hands up in despair.
"There won't be a repeat," Mollie said softly. "I think I've learned a bit since then."
"Right," Helen snorted. "Well, it's your head. See if I care." The worry and tension in her face, which was just now beginning to relax, told a different story, though. "Anyway, I brought these," Helen said, tossing a thick file on Mollie's lap. "I thought maybe we'd work through those scholarship applications seeing as you're stuck here and I took the day off work anyway."
"Mom, you didn't have to call in sick for this," Mollie said guiltily. She knew money was tight, stretching Helen's single salary as a middle school counselor over two people.
"I absolutely had to," Helen said tightly. "I'd be a crappy excuse for a mother if I didn't."
Mollie smiled through her watering eyes.
Helen shifted in the uncomfortable straight-backed chair, then moved to the foot of the bed. "Let's start on the UW application."
Leah hated patrolling in groups, and Nick Mora was why.
Embry sighed as the slender she-wolf snarled mentally at their third companion. It was going to be a long run to—well, to wherever the leeches were going. The three werewolves had picked up the scent, and a bloodless body, around Aberdeen and followed it back north and into the Olympic National forest where they found two more bodies and the disgustingly sweet smell of leech covering a large section of newly destroyed trees. They'd temporarily lost the trail at Lake Cushman and picked it back up at Lilliwaup, followed it around Annas bay to Union and then Bremerton, and lost it again. Now Embry was pacing at the edge of the sound while Leah and Nick sat and stewed behind him.
Embry had a hunch that the bloodsuckers had crossed over to Seattle, but it was impossible to track the scent through water and he had a sinking feeling that he'd lost them for good. He didn't want to report back to Jake with failure, though, and—would Nick shut the fuck up for one goddamn minute?
Immediately he mentally smacked himself for yelling at the pup, who was slinking resentfully away. It wasn't Nick's fault he was showing his packmates his memories of his jackass dad. God, Embry wanted to tear the man apart for hurting his brother so badly. Leah, go after him, Embry commanded.
She snarled at him too, but she went. Unfortunately, Leah's interpretation of 'going after him' didn't contain the gentle listening and sensitivity crap that Embry had intended it to—weren't girls supposed to be good at that?—and she caught him and dragged him back to Embry, kicking and growling, and dumped him at the larger wolf's feet. Then she threw up a mental wall and stalked off.
Nick whined and scooted away from Embry, his eyes betraying his fear, but Embry crouched down on the ground next to him and said nothing, not even when Nick bit him. The younger boy cringed backwards almost immediately, but Embry didn't retaliate.
When Nick attempted to throw up a mental wall just as Leah had done, Embry knocked down the clumsy construction with a gentle tap. So the younger wolf instead bombarded Embry with a crushing stream of memories of his home life, his father throwing a beer bottle at Nick, who ducked, his father vomiting on the kitchen floor and Nick having to pick the man up and wash his face and throw him on the bed, his father striking him across the face with the back of his hand, and again, and again. Embry howled. Stop. Stop. STOP!
He tackled Nick, biting his ear and using his greater weight to pin the speckled blond wolf to the ground. Leah returned to help Embry, sitting on Nick's rotated hip and smacking his tail back and forth. Nick raged for minutes, thrashing ineffectively and biting at the air. Though Embry and Leah winced every time his teeth gnashed together they sat quietly until he was done. When he was, Leah padded over to the younger wolf's face. He whimpered and turned away from her as much as he could. She leaned over him and licked his face from ear to nose, a big slobbering wet kiss.
Yuck, Leah, he said disgruntled.
Can it, kid, Embry told him. It means she cares. Whether you want it or not, the pack cares for its own. Every blow you take hurts the entire pack. Nick glared at him resentfully, but he shut up anyway.
Embry let his brother up with a playful nip to his ear. Then he looked back across the sound and made a decision. We'll hunt for the scent on the other side.
They swam the sound. They caught the scent almost immediately on the opposite shore—Embry would be trusting his hunches a lot more from now on—and followed it into a dingy neighborhood on the banks of the Duwamish waterway. Tread carefully. They moved slowly and low to the ground into a back alley where the scent was particularly strong.
Jake had ordered them to track only; they were not supposed to attack. But Leah and Nick were both itching for a fight, and Embry doubted whether he could contain them if they stumbled upon a vampire. Don't attack. Don't attack. Don't . . .
But there wasn't any vampire in the alley. The three wolves spread out, sniffing. One vampire, two vampires—but not the two they'd been tracking.
Embry froze in shock and horror as he realized they were dealing with at least two more vampires than they'd thought. Jake would need to know. Leah, we have to get out of here. Leah barked excitedly, though, and mentally pulled him to her. Ashes. Someone had burned a vampire here, and recently.
Nick joined them and the three sniffed the pile cautiously. It wasn't one of the two they'd been tracking, but the male's scent surrounded it, and over here was the female's, and a fourth unknown vampire's over there. Shit. Six vampires minus one still left five. How had Jake missed this? How had the Cullens missed this, given Alice's sight?
Embry's eyes narrowed. Jake really needed to know. We're going back, Embry commanded. He was the ranking wolf on the expedition. Nevertheless, the other two protested.
We can take them.
Two for me and one for Leah and two for you, too, said Nick generously.
No. Embry snarled mentally and put all the weight of his command into the order. We're going home NOW.
So they went. Leah and Nick refused to speak to Embry the entire long run back to Forks.
They found Jake at the Cullen house with Nessie. He looked up in surprise as they ran into the large living room, wet, ragged, and not entirely reacclimated to their human forms. "Yo," he said, making funny faces at them for Renesmee. "Why are you here?"
"There are leeches in Seattle," Embry said without preamble, breathing hard. The faint clattering in the kitchen stopped silent.
"How many?" asked Jake dangerously.
"Five including the two we tracked. There was another, but they burned him. Recently. Not more than a day, maybe less. We found his ashes in an alley." Embry felt a small, cool hand on his arm. He looked down and smiled at Nessie just as questions and pictures began flooding through the link. Why did Jake look so angry? He hadn't looked angry when they hunted that afternoon, she thought over a picture of Nessie and Jake kneeling over a dead deer. Was it the vampires? Nessie knew they were bad vampires, who drank blood, not like her golden-eyed family. She wished she had golden eyes too, but then she would be a vampire and not best friends with Jacob, and she liked chocolate brown eyes almost as well. Nessie knew the wolves were tracking two vampires whom her parents didn't like. Had they killed someone? More than one someone?
"Three someones," Embry whispered painfully and the little fingers tightened on his arm with a wash of pain and sympathy.
Jake was raging at the Cullens, who were now gathered around the wolves with the exception of Emmet at the TV. "We'll be discussing this later," he finished. "Officially. Emb, Nick, Leah, you're free to go. Get some sleep, you look like hell."
"Thanks, jackass," muttered Leah before she slipped off, Nick at her heels. Embry left gratefully, too, but he had a stop to make before returning to La Push. Two stops, actually. He made a pass by the hospital where Mollie was sleeping peacefully in her bed. Well, good. His imprint should be sleeping at this hour, even if it was, well, only ten thirty. So he was a little overbearingly parental, so what?
Then he passed by her house to check on her mom, whom he knew Mollie cared deeply about. Helen Ember was sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee and a book, lost to the world. The worry lines on her face were as relaxed as they had ever been, although the woman, who shared few of Mollie's features but all of her quiet beauty, still looked older than her forty years.
The imprint certainly sped things up, but Embry thought he could have easily fallen in love with Mollie on his own. He did think he loved her already. The one spot of discomfort in his own brain had been lodged firmly in there since long before he met Mollie, though, and it refused to be shaken out. How on earth would she react to the werewolves? More pressing still, the imprint?