Pretty Poison by Kari Gregg

Author:Kari Gregg [Gregg, Kari]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kari Gregg
Published: 2013-12-14T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Lost in his thoughts, Noah climbed silently into the Tahoe for the trip back to the pack house, but as soon as they reached it, Fletcher led him to an old blue minivan parked at the end of the driveway. Empty Styrofoam cups littered the vehicle’s floor in front. To make room for Noah’s forearm crutches, Fletcher tossed several cups over his shoulder and into a wasteland of snack wrappers, empty juice bottles, and...toys? Noah twisted around to peer at the mess as he fought with the seatbelt, but no, he wasn’t wrong. The gray plastic tip of a sword blade poked above floor wreckage between the rear seats, the play weapon pointing to a Disney bicycle helmet on the bench in back. Canvas grocery bags and tattered sales flyers helped bury most of the van’s contents, but there were toys. If you looked. A youth-sized baseball glove hid under a seat. A purple stuffed unicorn leaking tufts of fiberfill peeped from a mound of blankets. M&M’s dotted the carpet like confetti where junk mail, empty water bottles, and stray work gloves left gaps in the debris field.

Even small amounts of chocolate could kill wolves so that was removed from children’s treat lists once they began shifting at puberty.

Young kids, then.

Tahoe’s were pack transportation. Shifters needed rugged SUV’s that could handle off-road access points to hunting grounds outside city limits. The vehicles shuttled families to full moon gatherings as well as provided cars for pack use in town, and Noah’s family had learned to identify them in order to avoid city shifters for years. Noah could testify that each of the rigs were pristinely maintained, without a stray crumb spoiling the carpet.

This van was a private car.

Fletcher climbed into the driver’s seat and slid the key in the ignition.

Fletcher’s car.

Curious, Noah stared at the beta as the engine sputtered to life. Noah hadn’t thought of Fletcher as a real person before. Of course, he was real. Noah knew that. The beta doubtlessly had a job he’d missed to chaperone Noah. He must have friends and family. Hobbies. The man had seen Noah at his sick and desperate worst. The beta had also become embarrassingly familiar with the network of scars on skinny legs Noah camouflaged behind blue jeans and bulky sweatpants to everyone except his doctors. They’d argued about Noah’s diet, the clothes Noah would wear, even about Noah’s red hair. The shifter knew more about Noah’s insecurities than two of his brothers. Yet, Noah knew nothing about him. Whether Fletcher was mated. What his regular job was, a curiosity considering Fletcher wasn’t tan from working outdoors like most shifters. Noah wasn’t even sure if the beta had been born in this pack or had transplanted with other shifters when Wade moved to Loganville last year.

Noah vaguely recalled something the shifter had said to Wade while Noah’s head had screamed foul misery last night. He couldn’t remember the exact words, but the gist was Wade ordering Fletcher to keep his distance so Noah would rely solely on Wade.

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