The Coyote's Comfort Page 8

  Diana glanced back at Shannon, but Shannon had found a seat and had promptly fallen asleep in it. The two women on either side of her were talking around her.

  Shit.

  Diana put a hand on Barbie’s back and rubbed. Barbie needed to go home. She probably didn’t even know why she didn’t feel well. But if she went home, she probably wasn’t going to get the attention she needed. There were four other Pratt kids there to consider, and they couldn’t just be left at home.

  She trickled a little quelling energy into the child and tuned back into the conversation as Lucille asked, “How much is hot lunch now?”

  “Three dollars,” Barbie said. “That’s if you want milk. If you want juice, it’s another fifty cents.”

  Lucille made a sour face like she didn’t like that math.

  “Make your lunch at home and you get cooler snacks, huh?” Lanie asked. The question was directed to the kids, but she was eying Diana, or perhaps where her hand was.

  Diana really needed to go check on the other kids—after all, that was her gig for the night—but she didn’t want to pull away yet. The moment she took her hand away from Barbie’s back, that wild energy inside of the child was going to ricochet around again.

  That usually happened for a year or two after puberty started in Coyotes. The inner animal was prone to assert itself at unexpected times. It threw itself about, trying to make some room in a brain and body built only for one. In time, the two parts of the shifter consciousness would entwine and work seamlessly, but the first couple of years were rough for most Coyotes. And sometimes, personalities didn’t shake out to be quite the same as they were when they started.

  “I don’t…feel so good,” Barbie whispered. “Can’t go home. Daddy’s sleeping. Working third shift. Can’t wake him up yet.” Suddenly, gasping, she reached for Diana’s wrist and squeezed it so hard that if Diana hadn’t been a dominant Coyote, Barbie might have fractured the bone.

  Okay. Okay.

  She winced through the pain.

  “All right, just breathe,” Diana whispered. Another glance back at Barbie’s mother revealed that she was still asleep.

  Diana got to her feet, carefully looping her fingers around the child’s thin arm. “Come with me, Barbie. Let’s see if we have any more clean paintbrushes.”

  She hustled the panting child out to the foyer and meant to deposit her there and go back to rouse her mother, but before she could get to the doorway, Lanie darkened it.

  “I don’t have time for this right now,” Diana said with aggrieved exasperation.

  “What’s wrong with her?” Lanie asked.

  “Just…Coyote stuff. Listen, don’t worry about it. I—”

  “What can I do to help?”

  Diana gave her head a clearing shake. “What?”

  “What can I do to help?” Lanie edged closer, fixing the child in her stare.

  Barbie was seated on a hard wooden bench, arms wrapped around her body, torso swaying front to back as though she were trying to work out a bad cramp. “Diana!” she shouted.

  Diana hurried back to her and scooped her up, trickling a bit of magic into her. Waiting around was reckless. The best place for Barbie was out in the desert, where no one would see her coming apart at the seams and the dog trying to make her way out. She was ready to come out. Barbie wasn’t ready, but her inner animal wasn’t going to wait.

  “Just go,” Lanie said, making a shooing motion. “Go. Do what you need to. I’ll manage things here.”

  “But you don’t even—”

  “I was an Army captain, Diana. I know how to keep people ignorant and how to shut things down. I’ll gather all the ornaments and clean up in an hour. Just tell me what to tell her mother.”

  “Tell her we’re going to the Coyote rock. She’ll figure it out.”

  Lanie nodded.

  “Thank you.” Diana didn’t know if she’d even gotten the words out before she’d barreled through the double doors and out into night air.

  She shouldn’t have left Lanie in that place with all those shifters and locals who were all too close to Diana’s life, but Barbie was important. Diana was one of the few people in the pack who could actually make the period less miserable for her.

  “It hurts!” Barbie shouted as Diana buckled her into her SUV. Her sweating had become profuse, and she was shaking without ceasing.

  “I know it does, sweetheart. Just try to hang in there. You’ll feel better in a bit, okay?” She pushed a little more energy into Barbie. Perhaps too much at once. Diana went lightheaded for a couple of seconds but recovered by the time she was behind the wheel.

  She glanced into her rearview mirror and spotted Shannon in it, wringing her hands. She waved out the window and put her foot on the gas.

  Shannon should have been the one taking Barbie out to run, but there was no plan for that. There were other Pratt kids to see to, and at least Barbie wouldn’t be alone if Diana took her.

  Diana had been alone during her untame years. She hadn’t had anyone because her father hadn’t cared, and Blue was already gone.

  She could do her part to help. It wasn’t much, but it was something she could do that didn’t hurt anyone.

  And it felt good to be useful in a way that didn’t hurt anyone. It felt good to know that she knew how to do something that no one else did.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Lanie probably would have been more comfortable waiting in her rental car, but she wanted to be at the door when Diana got home. Diana wouldn’t have to seek her out for information about the Scout event or track her down to find out where all those sticky pinecones went.

  When Diana trudged around the corner of the building at one in the morning with dark circles under her eyes and mouth pinched with aggravation, Lanie wasn’t surprised to see that she was confused at the sight of her.

  Music from the bike shop’s soiree thumped in the back courtyard, which Diana had no doubt cut through. Her tenant parking space was back there somewhere.

  “The nursing home staff let me store the ornaments in their conference room,” Lanie said. “They were still a little tacky when I sent everyone home, so they turned the fan on in there. You can pick them up tomorrow, if you want.”

  “Oh.” Diana fidgeted her keys and shifted her weight. “Um…”

  “Barbie?”

  “Fine. She’s fine. I took her home. She fell asleep before she hit the bed. Her mother’s going to try to take her out to run tomorrow.”

  “What happened?”

  “Off-schedule shapeshift,” Diana murmured low, putting her back to the street. A couple of revelers from the Bikes and Brews event were lingering nearby. She unlocked the bottom door of her unit and gave Lanie a curious, sideways look. “You can…come up, if you want. It’s so late. I don’t imagine you’re going to drive to Albuquerque tonight.”

  “I didn’t wait here expecting you to invite me in.” Lanie wouldn’t pretend that the invitation didn’t suit her purposes, though. At no point did she want Diana to feel like she was forced to do anything. Lanie was merely making herself visible and available so Diana wouldn’t have to stress about whether or not she was inconveniencing Lanie. Lanie would endure pretty much any inconvenience for her. She’d told Diana that countless times before.

  Diana stared silently at her as though she was testing the weights of words in her mind, but then she pushed the door open and gestured to the stairs without saying anything.

  Lanie handed Diana the bottle of hair conditioner from her suitcase before ascending. She heard Diana’s whispered “Oh,” as she climbed.

  Diana was at the top of the steps unlocking the second door, flinching with each heavy boom of bass from the party when Lanie got motivated. “Stay right there.”

  She stepped out onto the sidewalk once more and headed toward the entry of the alleyway between the bike shop and the neighboring building, scanning second-floor lights as she went. Her quick count hinted that there were at least five residential
units within close proximity of the courtyard the business used for its parties, and apparently, Diana wasn’t the only one having trouble sleeping. Lanie could see a couple of people pacing by their windows.

  “Ridiculous.” She didn’t give a damn if those storeowners got mad at her. She wasn’t a local and suspected that the business owners really weren’t, either. Given the fact that she was leaving soon, she didn’t have to worry about hurt feelings.

  She rolled up her sleeves as she edged through the milling crowd and glanced at her watch, just for the reminder that it really was as late as it felt.

  A man strode nearby holding a tray loaded with empty beer mugs.

  Lanie flagged him and got into his path for extra emphasis. “Excuse me. You’re one of the owners of this business, right?”

  His gaze flitted around in the telltale truth or lie? way, so Lanie figured she should press on.

  “Great,” she said, smiling. “Listen. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but this bit of downtown is apparently zoned for mixed use. Do you know what that means?”

  “I mean…yeah, I guess.” He shifted his weight from side to side and looked over Lanie’s head, probably in search of reinforcements.

  Lanie didn’t care. She could have a chat with whoever joined them, too.

  “Well, good. I’ll remember you told me that. Listen. Here’s the problem. The hour is closer to dawn than to sunset, and your music is keeping people awake. Some of these people have to get up early to go to work.”

  “They knew what they were—”

  “Don’t even,” Lanie interrupted and gave her head a scolding shake. She caught Diana in her periphery, standing at the mouth of the alley, probably curious about what Lanie was up to.

  Lanie tried to always use good manners around Diana. She didn’t want her to think Lanie was that hard-ass all the soldiers in her unit accused her of being. Lanie knew how to leave work at work and didn’t want Diana to think she’d ever use that authoritarian bent on her. Diana was squirrelly enough already.

  “Don’t give me that tripe about how they knew what they were getting into when they moved in. According to that big decal on your front window, your shop has been established for less than a year. I guarantee some of these people predate you here, and that whatever business existed here before yours didn’t disturb the peace.”

  Really, Lanie was guessing with that. She had no idea what was there before the bike shop. For all she knew, it could have been a fetish club that made visitors bang heavily on the door and shout cryptic passwords to the bouncer.

  “We’re just trying to run a business here,” said a second dude-bro with a tray.

  Lanie twined her fingers in front of her belly and staunched the compulsion to crack her knuckles. She suspected that her smile was tight and eyes were a bit cold, but she didn’t care. They had to know at that point that she was just pretending to be polite.

  “I appreciate that you’re trying to run a business,” she said in a cloying, soft tone. “I really do. My parents actually own one of the last few independent bookstores in their region, and they’re grateful for every single tourist who walks through their doors. But you know what? They actually understand the community they work in. They weren’t outsiders who saw an opportunity and decided to plop down a shop near the town square. You want to do these things?” She gestured to the tourists in the courtyard, who were trying—and failing—to act as though they weren’t listening. “I suggest you come to an accord with the people who have to live here, or you’re going to find that really cranky, tired residents are going to start calling the police to break up the party.”

  “There are ordinances!” someone shouted from an open window. “I looked them up. Ten P.M., the noise has to stop!”

  “Well, then,” Lanie said, grinning. “It sounds like they’ve been very accommodating so far. Probably because they’re too nice to stir up shit, but I’m not.” She made her grin even broader. “I’m really not. Turn off the music and break this thing up, now, or I will guarantee that everyone in a two-block radius is going to have the sheriff’s department on speed-dial.”

  The first guy huffed but waved a hand in the general direction of the DJ.

  The DJ killed the music.

  “Thank God,” someone said out another window.

  “Thanks, fellas,” Lanie said cheerily as she turned away. “Nice shop, by the way. Keep doing what you do. Just be less sleazy about it.”

  She hooked her arm around Diana’s on the way past and, saying nothing, led her back out to the sidewalk. She still didn’t say anything until they’d climbed the steps and Diana had locked the door behind them. “The right to a good night’s sleep should be clearly defined in the Constitution.”

  “You must think I’m a loser for not having said anything to them.” Diana leaned against the kitchen island, trying to heel off her boots without looking. Her limbs were moving slowly, listlessly.

  Lanie knelt and grabbed one ankle, stilling Diana’s spastic movements, shushing her. “Don’t worry about that,” she murmured. “I get it. You didn’t want to make a scene because you have to walk past their shop every day.”

  “I used to be better at making scenes.”

  Saying nothing, Lanie slid the boot off Diana’s foot and reached for the other.

  “I can’t tell anymore when I’m even…justified in making one. My head is so screwed up.”

  “Your head is fine.” Lanie grabbed the boots by the shanks and carried them to Diana’s closet. She’d always had an organization system for her shoes and Lanie bet she’d be able to figure out exactly where to put those boots. Season. Height. Color. Purpose. “You’re tired, right?”

  She nestled the boots into the one clear plastic box that didn’t have occupants and left the lid cracked open the way Diana had taught her. “Gotta air those bitches out for a few hours, Elaine,” she’d always scolded.

  The memory made Lanie smile.

  She emerged from the closet to find Diana on the bed, loosening the button of her pants. Task completed, she flopped back, arms spread wide, and closed her eyes.

  “Are you sleeping in that?” Lanie asked her.

  Diana grunted.

  She was already half asleep. Lanie could tell by the way her breathing had so quickly slowed. That had scared the hell out of her when they’d first started dating. Diana would come home from gods-knew-where and pass out within five minutes. Lanie had thought Diana was having some sort of narcoleptic episodes, but Diana had brushed off her concerns. Lanie had finally had to call Blue and ask what was happening.

  “Oh,” he’d said, unbothered. “Coyotes expend a lot of energy changing forms. Diana’s less affected than most because she’s got more powerful wiring, but she’s not the kind of lady who’ll half-ass her job. Takes a lot of effort to keep up with all those teenagers. They’re not good at orienting in the first few years after their beasts assert.”

  “And that’s her job?” Lanie had asked.

  “No. It’s not her job, but she does it because no one else thinks to. We try not to talk about Coyote pack shit, and she wouldn’t accept the compliment from me, but she is really good at it. The kids in Sparks are terrified of her when they’re in their human forms, but when they’re on four legs, they instinctively know who to look to.”

  “Why are they terrified of her?”

  “Dunno.”

  Hmm.

  Lanie shimmied her phone out of her pocket and scrolled down her contacts list. She needed to ask before she forgot. She texted Blue:

  You once told me that the young Coyotes in Sparks were terrified of Diana. Is it the same way here?

  Surprisingly, he instantly responded. Soon realizing he was sending a series of texts, she waited until he was done to read them all.

  No. I think the problem there was that they were scared of her because they were terrified of our father.

  Here, they didn’t have anything to prejudge her on. They gravitate to her. The
y read her energy as a kind of safety beacon, I think.

  Supposedly, that’s normal for Coyote women who have dominant energy, but the pack in Sparks was always so oppressive that we might not have ever learned who had that natural ability.

  Why?

  Reading the time, Lanie gave Blue’s messages a matronly squint. She texted, Wait. Why are you up?

  Wake up every time Willa’s bladder beckons. Can’t sleep until she’s back down and settled. Answer the question.

  I’m just trying to fit some puzzle pieces together. So, her role in your pack isn’t just run-of-the-mill, then?

  Nah. I can’t imagine having a Pack that doesn’t have someone like her in it. She thinks about the shit no one else does. She’ll be the first to suggest that something is going to bite us in the ass—even the small things that should be inconsequential. I think being cautious is in her nature, which is…not generally a Coyote trait. I’ll put it that way.

  Lanie smiled down at her. She chuckled at Diana wriggling her toes in her socked feet and talking to herself in sleep. Being called “cautious” probably wouldn’t have been high praise for most people, but Lanie had seen Diana fighting against her nature for too long to try to be what her old pack demanded of her. And it was a good nature. It meant she was safe and dependable—qualities people looked for in partners. Those were qualities that would make her the best sort of friend and confidante.

  The best sort of mother, too.

  Carefully, Lanie notched her fingers into Diana’s waistband and gave it a slow, downward tug.

  Diana’s eyes flew open.

  “I don’t care how many times you’ve done it before,” Lanie whispered. “You can’t sleep in this. Leather pants aren’t pajamas.”

  “I’ll take them off.” Diana’s eyelids drifted back downward.

  “Uh-huh.” Giving her head a wry shake, Lanie worked them past Diana’s hips and thighs. She had to carefully loosen them from her knees and calves before tugging them over her heels. “Better?”