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If my ex was calling to pass the message, Jup had made some impression.
    Before I could offer assurances, he continued, “You do know, Cate, that you can call me if you’re in trouble?”
    Eyes misting, I spoke softly, “I know.” I leaned my head back, suddenly exhausted. They were getting easier, but interactions with Lucas were still emotionally draining. Although we were no longer together, in a way I still loved him. My walking away had hurt us both. Luke hadn’t understood, and I couldn’t explain. That hadn’t changed, which put a strain on our continued friendship. Because of this, his offer, which I knew he’d stand behind come hell or high water, was no small thing. Trying to keep my voice steady, I continued, “I’m okay right now, Lucas. But thank you. You know I’ll call if there’s a need.” The words seemed so inadequate to express how I felt. But some things couldn’t be said without changing everything .
    Luke again cleared his throat. “I’ve moved up in the Pack, Lace. If you need us, the wolves will be there.” He was promising the Pack’s protection—an offer my ex really couldn’t make. Still, I had no doubt that he and his friends would come if called.
    “You always were a sucker for a damsel in distress, Deveroux.” He chuckled at my reference to our first meeting. I tried to put a smile in my voice. “Don’t worry. If I get in over my head, you can throw me a life preserver. But if I catch you doing CPR on me, your furry ass is toast.” His deep laugh as we disconnected brought a true smile to my face. Even so, I was worried. What did Jupiter know that I didn’t?
    And how much was it going to cost me to find out?
    * * *
    Day Three
    “Catherine Eleanor Delacy, you get your butt right back here!”
    My left eye twitched. Aunt Helena’s voice was usually slow, sweet, and full of that Southern drawl that always seemed to charm men, especially men who didn’t know better than to be charmed by a Southern woman with a legendary temper. But on days like today, when her mood was boiling, my aunt’s voice could compete with a banshee’s wail. And I mean that literally. I’d seen my aunt’s banshee secretary, Elvira, cringe in the face of her boss’s vocal intensity. Not surprisingly, Elvira had stayed in Europe for a “vacation.” The woman had probably jumped at the opportunity to have an ocean between herself and her sometimes cranky boss.
    “I’ve gotta run, Auntie. I’ll be back by ten,” I yelled over my shoulder, bumping the foyer table while rushing to the front door. I grabbed for a toppling vase, barely making sure it was steady before exiting, not waiting for a reply.
    I was of a like mind with Elvira. Distance really did make the heart grow fonder. And it didn’t hurt the ears none, either. Which was why I’d headed for the door the minute Aunt Helena had started yelling about how that advertisement—the one I’d successfully hidden from her until she’d picked up a paper in town—would endanger the family. Her argument would’ve worked, except I knew when my aunt said “family” she meant me. There was no family. Nana was on a endless RV tour of the country. My Grams, my great-grandmother who’d lived next door and helped raise me, had passed away over five years ago, two years after we’d lost my grandpa who I’d been especially close to. I had more than one fond memory of him teaching me to parallel park that old unwieldy ’83 Silverado, which was now my work truck. And Aunt Helena was only home a few weeks out of the year. Even our closest neighbor, Dr. Wellsy, who was like an adopted uncle to me, was away guest-teaching at a university in Virginia. I got in my rebuilt yellow Jeep, Susie, and headed down the long gravel drive, turning north once I hit the highway.
    Only Mynx lived full-time with me in the Delacys’ ancestral home, an old, sprawling two-story farmhouse. Hundreds of years older than the rest of us, Mynx was a Delacy in name and