Where Wild Things Roam

Shopping

Ian    

When we emerge from our room at Maison des Saisons in the morning, David’s sitting on a chair outside it. There’s an oversized mug of coffee in his hand, but he still looks like he’s coming off a three-day bender.

“Morning, David.”

He rises quickly, his eyes on Darby. “Good morning, Alpha. Luna?”

Darby turns her eyes and a beautiful smile on him. Her smile quickly fades. “Oh my. Was there no one to relieve you? Poor thing. Here.”

She holds her delicate fingers over the top of his steaming coffee. The hot, black fluid roils in the mug, then settles, looking for all intents as though she added cream to it.

“Sip that slowly,” she directs David, patting him lightly on the forearm. “When it’s all gone, you’ll feel better.”

Wide-eyed, David raises the cup to his nose and inhales, tentatively at first, then deeply. He closes his eyes, exhaling in a long sigh and when he opens them, the dark circles beneath them are gone. A broad grin splits his face, his brows pull together and he nods. “I do feel better!”

“It’ll be much better when that’s gone.” Darby taps the rim of his cup lightly with one finger, urging him to drink. “Trust me. And Dave—thank you for looking after us.”

David’s relieved grin melts into a lovesick smile. “For you, Luna, I’ll gladly lose a bit of sleep.”

Darby’s golden-green eyes flick to my face, locking with mine. “I do hope we don’t have to make a habit of it.”

Though it’s spoken as a polite and simple statement, I can hear her demand for a speedy resolution. Impertinent. I arch a brow at her and her gaze softens.

“Please.” Between her accent and the way she draws the word out into a caressing whisper, I debate hard about hauling her back into our room. She’s irresistible. I lean to her and kiss her pouty mouth. “David, would you like to join us for breakfast?”

Sipping from his mug, David shakes his head. “Um, no. Thank you. It appears you have a breakfast date.” He gestures over the stair rail to Kasey waiting in the grand entry below, waving excitedly.

I clap him on the arm. “Another time then. Drop by the packhouse and grab a bite to eat from Townsend, then get some rest, David.”

I follow Darby downstairs and both she and Kasey into the restaurant. When we’re finished eating, I escort them along the plaza, stopping briefly at Little Life so Kasey can check on her daughters.

“What is this place?” Darby asks as Kasey checks in at the front desk and the receptionist starts contacting the childcare staff.

From her office across from the reception area, Mrs. Knox, the brainchild and owner of Little Life, leans to peek out the door. I smile when she looks our way and immediately, she comes out to greet us. She’s an older were, a retired teacher, with steel gray hair and piercing blue eyes that scan me then Darby speculatively before she replies. “Little Life is a childcare and learning center.”

Mrs. Knox takes a few short steps to a magnetically locked door, swipes a badge on her lanyard and opens it, directing us inside. “Let me show you.”

Darby gasps with delight as she walks through the door. “It looks exactly like Candlewood, only miniaturized.”

We watch as a group of children walk by on a sidewalk, giggling and talking excitedly, their staff attendant following a bit behind. The attendant, in her mid to late teens, waves and smiles.

“We call it Littlewood. It’s modeled on Candlewood, yes.”

We follow Mrs. Knox to the far end of the large building, and she directs our attention up Littlewood’s Main Street. “When the children check in, they choose a life that currently interests them—some choose doctors, teachers, firefighters, actors, restaurant or shop owners. One of the more popular jobs here at Little Life is Security Chief, like our Second triumvir, Jack.”

Leading us behind one of the tiny shops, she points to a staffer working with a child on how to weigh and measure out jarred candy for the store’s awaiting customer, another child a few years younger. “Depending on the difficulty of the job, they get up to an hour’s worth of supervised training and a uniform including a badge with their picture on it they can take home. Then they spend the remainder of their time in supervised play and work in their little community. They receive an income and are allowed to go shopping as they see fit, meet and visit with one another.”

We walk up the aisle, peering behind the scenes into a tiny restaurant, a grocery store and a pet boutique, where a couple children, half-soaked and covered in foam, are laughing hysterically as the small dog they wash shakes water all over them. Over top of the buildings, a small electric fire engine goes by on Littlewood’s Main street, siren wailing and lights flashing.

“Oh, look Tessa! We can get you a bath!”

Tessa sits politely at Darby’s heel, but her body leans away from the pet boutique. Alpha, please no.

“Little Life brings a lot of families from other communities to Candlewood. Parents can attend events on the plaza or go shopping, even to the spa knowing their children are safe and having a great time,” I add, steering us back the way we came. “Kids love the place. It gives a lot of student teachers development time they can use towards their degree requirements and gives the school system here a first crack at recruiting the best of them. It’s been a win-win for Candlewood.”

“I can attest to that. Tasha and Tavie can’t wait to get here,” Kasey chimes in. “They won’t want to leave when I come back for them.”

“Oh my. How long do they stay?”

Mrs. Knox badges us back through the security door. “Little Life is open sixteen hours each day, so in theory, as long as we are. I don’t usually recommend more than eight hours, no matter how much fun the children are having.”

“Thank you so much for the tour. It’s a wonderful place.”

“It’s my pleasure, Miss….” Mrs. Knox arches a brow, prompting.

“Oh! I do apologize. I’m Darby.”

The penetrating gaze turns to me. I nod. “Your future Luna, but do me a favor and keep that quiet, please.”

Mrs. Knox beams. “Of course, Alpha. Drop by anytime, Luna.”

**

Ivan    

Jack’s been in my room nearly an hour complaining about security issues and Darby’s metal allergy, but all that stops mercifully dead when Ian arrives.

“Morning. How’s the injury?” Ian flops into the chair next to Jack, his long legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles.

I sit up straighter in my bed, skimming him from head to foot. He’s dressed casually, t-shirt, sports shorts, but what caught my eye is the flip-flops. Normally, Ian is impeccably dressed. “What are you wearing?”

As Jack snickers, Ian gives me an annoyed glare.

“The only clothes I have that don’t have any metal on them. Still looks better than that dress on you.”

I laugh, brushing at the flimsy hospital gown that’s all I’m allowed and lean back against the bed. When he wants to, Ian can turn your s**t around and send it right back at you faster than anyone. “Less drafty too. Wanna see?”

“Maybe you should put the faery clothes back on, Ian,” Jack suggests.

We both laugh this time.

Ian’s glare turns on his brother. “Shut it. Or pack your ass out to the training fields and we’ll settle this there. I’ve already had Townsend send someone with more of my clothes to get the metal removed and get them refitted.” He turns to me. “If you’re done harassing your Alpha now, how about you tell me what the doc said about your boo-boo, unless Jack wants to tell me he’s doing his job.”

Jack laughs. “f**k off, Ian. If you weren’t traipsing all over town in the middle of the night I might be. And by the way, that mate of yours screaming all night spooked David. Take it easy on him, will ya? He’s the best one I’ve got.”

Ian’s lips pull into an O, then spread out into a broad grin as he shakes with silent laughter. “Poor innocent unmated David. I’ll make a note of it. Tell me what’s going on at the packhouse.”

“Townsend’s got a team replacing what he can of metal doors and handles, but you’re going to wind up redecorating. At least half the furniture has some kind of exposed metal on it.” Leaning back in his chair, Jack laces his fingers behind his head. “We did find a couple faucets with ceramic handles—he’s prioritizing your room with those—but the handles are still attached to metal faucets with metal screws. You sure you don’t want to take her back to her valley?”

Ian snorts and rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t have to be a non-metal faucet—just one that’s not iron or an iron alloy. See if you can find something copper.” He inhales deeply and looks troubled. “I can’t imagine Darby playing home decorator. When I left her to go shopping with Kasey, she looked like she might actually cry.”

“Oh no. You sent her shopping with Kasey? Please tell me that’s on your tab.”

Chuckling, Ian nods. “Of course. I told her to pick something up for herself as a thanks and I’m getting the costs at Little Life.”

I sigh with relief. “That place is a life saver. I’d need another job if I had to pay for all three of my girls shopping together. At least for the time being, two of my three are content with a Little Life art set or a ten-dollar stuffie. Goddess help me if this next one’s a girl.”

“Think I could dump a remodel on Kasey? My dime of course.”

“Did you think you could stop her? Might be easier and cheaper to replace a few strategic pieces of furniture and put on an addition that uses less metal in the construction though,” I offer. “I can request a survey from Charlie and get an architect to pull together a few designs as soon as I get out of here.”

“Which will be when?”

“MRI looks like there’s an abscess. Doc’s putting me on IV antibiotics for twenty-four hours. If it’s not gone by then, it’ll be surgery to clean it up.”

Ian’s brows draw together, concerned.

“Yeah, I know.” I can’t agree more. I don’t know much about faeries, or their medicine—a situation I intend to rectify post-haste as soon as I get out of here—but it doesn’t seem like the kind of thing someone like Darby would miss. “Dr. Myers says if it doesn’t clear up, it’ll be the first time in sixteen years here that someone’s wolf half hasn’t been able to heal them.”

“Wasn’t a normal arrow,” Jack states flatly. “Didn’t leave a normal wound.”

“I’ll take care of Charlie and get an architect out to the pack house. Jack, if you’re going back there, would you ask Townsend to have someone remove any metal from my room that can be replaced?”

“Hell yes! What do I care if you’re sleeping on mattresses on the floor and living out of cardboard boxes?” Jack grins. “Besides, I don’t think David can take another night on guard outside your door at des Saisons.”

All three of us chuckle.

“I’ll work on that.” Rising, Ian claps Jack on the shoulder, then pats the rail at the foot of the bed. “Ivan, get better soon.”

“Hey, wait! Are you going into the office, Ian?”

“Probably, why?”

“Can I convince you to at least bring me my laptop? It’s powerfully boring in here, even when I can monopolize the TV.”

“You got it, buddy.”

**

Darby    

“There’s nothing like shopping to make me miss the simplicity of our life in the valley,” I whisper to Tessa where she lays on the floor in my dressing room.  

As soon as we’d left Ian, Kasey led me directly to Suzanne’s, a women’s clothing boutique tucked into a quiet corner all to itself just off the plaza. As soon as the door opened before me, I was overwhelmed.

As it turns out, Suzanne is an unranked female were who fled from a pack internally warring over the position of alpha. She sought refuge at Candlewood, and Ian granted her asylum while he bought her release from her old pack.

Suzanne had worked for some large fashion design house on the east coast, and her quiet boutique reflects it. Everything in the store is unique in design, and all of it beautiful. Suzanne herself, one of the most petite were females I’d seen, has a good eye for exactly what styles most flatter the wearer, making her boutique one of the most popular for miles around.

She’d taken one look at me, then learned from Kasey she was working on Ian’s budget, whatever that meant, and turned the store’s Open sign around. Disappearing into the back, she’d returned smiling like the cat that swallowed the canary with a small tray, a fluted glass for each of us and a generous pitcher of a delightful nectar she calls mimosas, made with sparkling cider for Kasey.

From inside the dressing room, I can still hear her laughing and talking with Ivan’s mate.

“Slacks, both dress and casual. Shirts, dress and casual. Are you certain she wants t-shirts?” Suzanne asks of Kasey. “Oh, here. Let me refill that.” I hear the clink of the pitcher to the lip of the glass and the soft sloshing of fluid into it.

“Thank you, and yes. She was adamant about the t-shirts.” Kasey’s voice drops to a whisper, as though she believes I might not hear her in the otherwise silent store. “I can’t imagine why with her figure. I mean they look incredible—everything on her looks incredible—but I’d dress like I was on the runway every day if I had that build.”

“Tsk! You stop that, Kasey. You’re beautiful as well in your own way—you know you inspire me. I can’t wait for you to get along further in your pregnancy—I have new maternity designs for just for you I know that you’ll love.”

Dressing slowly in a knee-length sundress that’s one of the few pieces I really enjoy, I pause before tightening the front lace-up bodice, listening to the rustle of tissue paper as Suzanne continues wrapping my parcels.

“Let’s see—shoes. I do wish she’d try on a few more pairs.”

My face falls and I shake my head to myself, looking down gratefully at the simple lace-tie sandals Suzanne has suggested for this dress when Tessa nudges them with her nose. No. I just can’t anymore. No.

“…dresses, underwear. Wait—.” There’s more rustling paper, more frantic this time, then a dim chime I recognize as the sound of the door. Tessa’s head pops her, her ears pricked that direction, then she stands and begins wagging her tail.

Thank the goddess. Another customer.

“Ah! Hello, Alpha.”

Ian! We’re saved! I get to work quickly on the sundress laces.

“Hello Suzanne. I see Kasey took me seriously.”

“Of course! Your Luna will be the talk of the territory and those of surrounding packs. Now just a minute—I’ve forgotten nightgowns.”

Night gowns? These are different than day gowns? Please, no more!

“Don’t bother. She won’t need them.”

“Ahhh, Alpha,” Suzanne teases, and hearing her grab something from a rack, I cringe. “Are you certain? These would bring out the creamy color of her skin…”

I peek over the door in terror, become immediately horrified. There’s more hanger than fabric on the gauzy, strappy red and black—well, things, because transparent as they are, I doubt in polite company they qualify as clothing— Suzanne displays for Ian. Thankfully, he’s completely unmoved. I duck down again, tying on the sandals.

“Intriguing designs, Suzanne,” he admits, smiling and shaking his head. “But there’s no sense putting something on her I’m just going to tear off to get to what I want.”

“You know, Ian, I bet Suzanne could set up a subscription for you,” Kasey offers.

Ian chuckles. “No, thanks. Maybe for Ivan, Kasey. Or when Jack finds a mate. Darby just needs a robe. Even that won’t stay on her long in the places she might think to wear it.”

Suzanne’s rubbing her hands together, grinning with delight as I emerge from the dressing room, Tessa following at my heel. “Ooohh! I can hardly wait to be designing for Alpha babies now too!” She throws her arms around Kasey. “I’ll get her dress alterations finished for the Luna ceremony and have it sent over.”

“Perfect.” Approaching from behind, I tuck my hand into Ian’s. “If you would, please, send these to Maison des Saisons. And thank you, Suzanne, for all your help today.”

**

Ian    

Opening the door for her, I lead Darby out of Suzanne’s shop, admiring the view both coming and going. I can see why Ivan’s petrified by the thought of his mate shopping—Kasey’s little adventure at Suzanne’s has cost me the gross domestic product of a small European country.

But watching the way the pale blue-green sea glass sundress moves as Darby moves, seeing the way the light jersey fabric clings to her where it touches, and having an unobstructed view of her slim legs tied at her delicate ankles with flat sandals and the exposed flesh of her decollate, graceful neck, shoulders and back, I’m thinking it’s worth it at twice the price. She tucks her dainty hand in the crook of my elbow as we walk along the plaza.

“It’s a bit cool, but since it’s sunny I thought we’d walk back to the packhouse.”

I can feel Darby stiffen. “Unless you’re calling a horse-drawn carriage, walking is fine. Why the packhouse?”

“Horse-drawn carriages. Or maybe bicycle carriages.” I look around the plaza. “I hadn’t considered those. Might be nice for getting around the plaza—keep the vehicle traffic down during events. I’ll bring it up to Ivan. Good idea, baby.” I kiss her temple. “And yes, the packhouse. I need to check on the progress removing the metal. And Townsend is appalled that your first meal in Candlewood was at Maison des Saisons.”

“Oh no! Whyever for? I thought it was nice. Didn’t you?”

I can’t help kissing her, she looks so distressed. “Townsend is a proud Cordon bleu chef and that he’s had a direct hand in every meal prepared in the packhouse for the last eighteen years. We’ll have lunch there, then I’ll take you back to our room at the hotel while I go into work for a bit.”

“Work? Why can’t we go with you?” She gestures at Tessa.

“You can, but I haven’t had time to bring up the metal issue there yet. Plus I’m certain there’s a lot waiting for me since we’ve been gone. You might have a better time if I get you an escort to explore more around the plaza.”

“As long as it’s not shopping with Kasey.”

That pulls a deep belly laugh out of me. “Don’t worry. I have another project to keep her occupied.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d prefer to stay with you, even if there is metal. I can always sit on the floor with Tessa.”

The thought doesn’t appeal to me. “I’m supposed to get Ivan his laptop.” I nuzzle her ear, whispering, “Why don’t I get mine too and we’ll retire to des Saisons together?”

“What’s a laptop?”