Grave Rites: Grant Wolves, #6

By Lori Drake

Dive into the epic conclusion of the Grant Wolves series.

 

Joey and Chris are used to working under pressure, but everyone has their breaking point. The secrecy of werewolves' existence is threatened, their wedding keeps getting postponed, and the stress is taking its toll on their relationship… Will they make it down the aisle at all?

 

Tensions only ratchet tighter when the body of a witch—who was also a close pack friend—washes up on the shore of the Puget Sound. Faced with a hostile coven, a sadistic killer, and a shaky trail that could go cold at any second, Chris and Joey must act fast to secure their territory.

 

But with their attention divided, more witches vanishing, and time running out on multiple fronts, will the pressure prove too much for Chris and Joey to handle? Or will they save the day and finally get their happily ever after?

 

If you like action-packed Urban Fantasy with thrilling twists that will keep you on the edge of your seat, then you won't want to miss the highly anticipated finale of the Grant Wolves series.

 

Click or tap buy now to claim your copy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clockwork Cactus Press
• Release date: Jul 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781955545105

Book preview

1

C an I open my eyes yet?

Joey snickered as she maneuvered Chris through the open door, meeting the realtor’s eyes in passing. The perky brunette cast her a conspiratorial smile and wink, holding the door open but lingering in the hallway as Joey’d asked when they’d set up this little ambush.

You’re blindfolded, babe. If your eyes are closed too, that’s all on you. Joey glanced around the room, assuring herself that everything was in order. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and she frowned inwardly. Joey Grant didn’t get butterflies in her stomach. She ate butterflies for breakfast. Toasted. With nonfat milk and slivered almonds.

Chris huffed. I know where we are. I can smell it. If you want to dance, you don’t have to drag me blindfolded to the studio. Pausing, he tilted his head and his voice softened. I know I’ve been busy. I’m sorry if you feel like this is the only way I’d—

Joey cut him off with a kiss. By then, they stood in the middle of a rehearsal room with Chris facing the mirror. Shut up and take the blindfold off, she murmured against his lips.

I dunno, this is kind of nice. Maybe we should use it at home…

Smirking, Joey yanked the strip of fabric off Chris’s head.

Ow, careful! Chris rubbed at the back of his head. You got some hair in the knot.

It’ll grow back. She stepped away and gestured around the room. What do you think?

Chris’s blue eyes lifted to the ceiling and roamed the room a bit, though he didn’t turn from his spot. This isn’t… where are we?

Joey glanced over her shoulder. Yup. The banner was perfectly visible in the mirrored wall behind her. Rolling her eyes, she grasped Chris’s shoulders and turned him around to face the opposite wall, where the name they’d picked out years ago for their future dance studio was emblazoned across a large painted banner: Staged Right Dance Studio

Her keen ears caught his slight inhalation of breath, and she ducked under his arm while slipping hers around his waist. His arm settled across her shoulders like it was the most natural thing in the world. Which, she supposed, it was. The butterflies made their presence known again. Her wolf snapped its jaws at them in irritation.

She squeezed him. I know, we always talked about it as a ‘someday’ kind of thing, but I saw this space open up and it’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. It’s in Everett, so the commute won’t be bad. The price is terrific.

You want to open a dance studio? Now? The surprise in his voice was unmistakable.

Why not? We’ve got decades ahead of us in this area, and you only live once, right?

He blinked. Does that mean you don’t want to compete anymore?

I dunno. She shrugged, fighting the urge to smooth the furrows in his forehead with her fingers. I mean, not per se, but we’ve been off the ballroom circuit for almost a year and it’s going to be harder for us to train and compete at the same level now that we have responsibilities that aren’t, well, training and competing.

Chris drummed his fingers against his thigh and studied the sign for a few moments more, then gave the room a closer look. Those responsibilities might preclude the time that it’d take to start a business right now, too.

You’d think so. But that’s the great thing. The current owner is looking to retire. She listed the building, but when I reached out to her... She’s willing to sell us the whole business. We’d start with a full roster of students already signed up for classes and instructors to teach them.

Is it in the black? The words were laced with reluctance.

Joey wobbled her head. Mostly.

Picking up on her hedging, he glanced down at her and lifted a brow.

Okay, so there’s a little work to be done. Enrollment has been down the last quarter. But with our names attached to it, I’m sure it’ll pick right back up. I mean, our titles still carry weight.

Only if we’re doing the instructing, Chris murmured, rubbing his jaw. I don’t know, babe. It’s… a lot.

Disappointment ate at Joey’s insides. Springing this on him had been a risk, but she’d hoped that he’d be as enthusiastic about the prospect as she was. She’d been teaching a few classes a week for a while now—in between crises, anyway—and they were the highlights of her weeks. Plus, a studio was something they could grow and build together, something that would bring their lives some much needed stability. An investment in their future.

You don’t want to. She did her best to keep her voice neutral but wasn’t entirely successful. He knew her too well, had too much experience reading her.

Chris gathered her in his arms, his expression turning gentle. I didn’t say that.

Well, you’re not exactly jumping for joy either. I thought you’d be into this. It’s what we talked about doing when we have to retire from competition, and it seems like that’s coming sooner rather than later.

I know. But that was before… everything. We’ve got a lot going on right now, what with pack leadership and Colt’s trial, and Sara’s going to pop any day… it’s a lot.

Joey bit her lower lip. He wasn’t wrong. Their friend and packmate was on trial for a double homicide, and their first niece or nephew’s arrival was imminent. Still… this was a hell of an opportunity. She could press the issue. She wanted to press the issue. But she knew it would only lead to a fight, and that was the last thing either of them needed. Swallowing her objections along with a heavy dose of disappointment, she met his eyes and summoned a smile. Just think about it. We don’t have to decide today. Just think about it. Okay?

He nodded and bent to kiss her forehead, then glanced at his watch. I’ll think about it. You still up for giving me a lift to the courthouse?

You betcha. I just need to have a word with the realtor on the way out, and we’ll be on our way.

As they walked toward the door, Chris glanced at his watch again. Okay, but make it fast. I don’t want to be late, and traffic this time of the morning is a nightmare.

When Adam gets back, we’ll have to put him to work on that transponder.

He laughed, a rich sound that chased away at least some of her disappointment. I think you mean transporter, love.

So I’m not fluent in nerd-speak. Whatever. Joey tugged the door open and followed Chris out into the lobby, wincing at the hopeful look on the realtor’s face.

Ready for the grand tour? she asked.

Oh right, the tour. Chris hadn’t even wanted to see the rest of the place.

Heart heavy, Joey suppressed a sigh and flashed the woman an apologetic smile. Actually, he has somewhere he needs to be. I forgot. The lie spilled easily from her tongue. Too easily.

Part of her hoped Chris might contradict her, but he just smiled and shook the realtor’s hand politely before leaning down to kiss Joey’s cheek. I’ll go get the car.

While he headed for the door, the realtor took out her phone and brought up her calendar. I have some time this afternoon if you want to reschedule, but the studio will be open then, so we’ll have to be discreet.

Joey watched the door swing shut behind Chris, chewing on her lip. Somehow, she had to convince Chris that this was the right next step for them. It wasn’t until he threw up a roadblock that she’d realized just how much she wanted it. Needed it. They’d been ricocheting from one crisis to another for the better part of a year like balls in a pinball machine. He might not be ready, but it was time for them to get on with their lives, in every respect.

Ms. Grant?

Blinking, Joey shook her head to clear it. Sorry, what?

Would this afternoon work? To reschedule.

Uh, no, that won’t be necessary.

Oh, okay. She tucked her phone away. Well, call me if you have any more questions.

Joey stared at the woman, surprised she’d let it go that easily. Either she was bad at her job, or there was enough interest in the property that she wasn’t terribly worried about Joey and Chris bailing on her.

Worry seized her. What if they waited too long? What if someone snatched the building up while she was still convincing Chris to move forward? It was priced to move, in an up and coming neighborhood. The two-story brick façade with its tall windows lit the studios with magnificent natural light. It was perfect. Exactly what she’d imagined their studio would be. She could see it all so clearly. Chris choreographing for recitals and competitions. Both of them educating the next generation of dancers. Little girls in colorful tutus spinning across the floor like pinwheels through pools of sunlight…

Ms. Grant?

Joey’s attention snapped back to the present. The realtor stood by the door, waiting for Joey so she could lock up after them.

We’ll take it. The words popped out of Joey’s mouth practically of their own accord, but she couldn’t bring herself to take them back.

You will? The realtor glanced out the door, then back at Joey, her expression a mixture of surprise and uncertainty.

There was still time to back out. Joey stood on the precipice of what could be the best or worst decision she’d ever made. She rubbed her thumb along the band of her engagement ring, thoughts spinning. Chris would be furious, but he’d come around. Right? He loved her, wanted what was best for her. This was what she wanted. What was best for her. For both of them. He’d understand. And if he wasn’t ready now, he would be. Eventually.

Swallowing, Joey nodded and met the realtor’s gaze evenly. Calmness came over her as she affirmed her decision. Yes. Two thousand over asking price, contingent upon a clean inspection. She may have been enthusiastic about the place, but Adelaide Grant hadn’t raised a fool.

The realtor, radiating confidence, smiled and nodded. I’ll need that in writing, of course.

Of course. Joey approached the door and offered a hand to shake, anyway. I’ll get it to you before noon.

They shook hands and parted ways. As Joey spied her car idling at the curb with Chris waiting behind the wheel, the sense of calm that’d filled her when she made her decision split and anxiety oozed in.

She hurried across the sidewalk and hopped into the passenger’s seat. Chris waited for her to buckle up before pulling away from the curb.

I’m sorry, he said, reaching across the console for her hand. I know you’re really excited about this idea. I didn’t mean to rain on your parade.

Guilt assailed her, but she tamped it down. You don’t owe me an apology. I know you didn’t. You said you’d think about it. That’s all I ask.

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, and silence settled between them.

Her wolf stirred restlessly, disliking any sort of deception where her mate was concerned.

Relax, girl. Everything will be okay.

The words were so convincing, she almost believed them herself.

Chris stood outside the Snohomish County Courthouse, his hands in the pockets of his suit coat while he waited for his brother to finish up and join him outside. The summer sun almost made him regret waiting outside. It was sunny and clear, with the high pushing eighty-five. It reminded him of Southern California, but his spirits were too high for homesickness to get him down.

Jon had done the impossible. Okay, not impossible. But it had sure seemed impossible a week ago. He’d gotten Colt’s confession thrown out. The prosecutor’s face had been so red when the judge made her ruling that Chris half expected his eyes to pop out. Jon hadn’t batted so much as an eyelash, as if the fact that the confession should be thrown out were so obvious he hadn’t expected any other response.

Chris shouldered no small amount of guilt for Colt being on trial in the first place. It was his error in judgment, after all, that had led to the discovery of the body buried on his property and set this whole distasteful chain of events in motion.

Today’s coup hinged on small town cops bungling procedure in an extremely unusual circumstance. Colt had walked in their front door to confess, and no one specifically asked him if he was refusing counsel before taking his statement. They’d violated their own department policy. Chris smiled just thinking about it.

His smile turned into a grin as Jon stepped out of the courthouse and began walking down the steps toward him. There he is! The man of the hour. Drinks are on me.

Jon eyed him, his features stern. It’s a little early for that.

Chris rolled his eyes. It’s five o’clock somewhere. Come on, man. It’s after noon. Have a beer with me or something. He wasn’t eager to rush home, not after the surprise he’d gotten that morning from Joey. Though he doubted she’d expect an answer out of him so quickly, he hated to leave her hanging. It was in his nature to give her anything her heart desired, but this new scheme of hers was sudden and extreme.

What I meant was celebrating might be premature. But a beer sounds good. Want to grab lunch?

Premature? Really? Chris started walking toward the parking garage.

Jon fell in beside him. There’s still a lot of evidence against him even without the double homicide confession. He told them where Kate’s body was buried, for Pete’s sake. I’m still trying to figure out how we’re going to spin that one.

Chris sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. Jeez, man. You sure know how to kill a buzz.

Sorry. I do have another idea, though. Buy me a basket of hot wings, and I’ll tell you all about it.

The notion of his highbrow attorney brother eating hot wings in a two-thousand-dollar suit was compelling enough on its own. Chris quickly agreed, and they ended up at a chain restaurant that happened to be on the way out of town.

Okay, spill, Chris said once their order was in.

Jon had already shed his jacket and was in the process of unfastening his cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves in preparation for the feast. I think I can get the whole case thrown out.

Chris straightened in his seat. What? How?

Leta.

The mention of Kate’s estranged daughter brought a grimace to Chris’s face. I can’t foresee any circumstance where Leta would lift a finger to help any of us.

Not willingly, no. But that doesn’t matter. I can subpoena her. Put her on the stand.

To what end?

She’s a cop.

Tribal police, Chris corrected.

Jon sat back on his side of the booth, draping an arm along the top of it. Doesn’t matter. Still a cop. She directly involved herself in a case she was personally involved in, which is an ethics violation. She didn’t identify herself as a cop, gathered evidence under false pretenses, and on top of that, all of it was outside her jurisdiction. I can get all that evidence thrown out. Fruit of the poisonous tree. There’d be so much egg all over the Sheriff’s and DA’s faces that they probably wouldn’t even get re-elected.

Chris stared at him, mouth agape and blinking. Why haven’t we done that?

Jon sighed. Colt won’t agree to it.

Why the hell not?

It would burn Leta, hard. She’d get fired, wouldn’t be able to work in law enforcement again, and any cases that she has open would be vulnerable to being thrown out too. Colt says not to touch her, that she’s been through too much already. Jon snorted, making his opinion on that sentiment clear.

He doesn’t owe that bitch a goddamn thing. Chris shook his head vehemently.

I’ll drink to that. Jon clinked his long-necked bottle to Chris’s.

They both drank, and silence settled between them. Chris’s gaze wandered to the bar, where the bartender was hamming it up for a pretty girl, tossing bottles around while he mixed drinks like a boozy jester.

You could overrule him, you know.

Chris’s eyes snapped back to Jon. I’m not that kind of Alpha.

Is Joey? Jon sipped his beer placidly, draping an arm along the back of the booth.

Chris hesitated, and that was answer enough. Joey would urge him to do whatever needed to be done to get Colt out of jail. The moon madness that came over a wolf that went too long between shifts wasn’t something they’d wish on their worst enemy. But it wasn’t just Colt’s sanity at stake; if he gave in and shifted in a cell one night during the full moon, the jig was up for all of them. Countless generations had managed to keep lycanthropy a secret from human authorities. Joey’d die before she let that end on her watch. Hell, she’d floated the idea of breaking Colt out of jail if the trial looked like it was heading for a conviction. The thought of that caper alone made his skin itch.

Jon smirked. Relax. I’m not gonna go over your head, man.

That’s not a thing with us.

If you say so. Jon set his beer aside and tucked his tie into his shirt as the waiter appeared with their wings.

Can I get you gentlemen anything else? Refills? the waiter asked.

Yes, please. Jon grabbed a wing and bit into it, making an appreciative noise. He quickly stripped the bone of meat and skin and licked his sauce-smeared lips with a feral grin. Damn this is good. I haven’t had wings since Sam left. Sara says I have to watch my cholesterol if I want to see two hundred.

Chris chuckled. You haven’t even seen one hundred yet, bro. But I get it. I miss your ‘wingman’ too. Have you heard from him lately?

Jon shook his head, his expression sobering as he plucked another morsel of deep-fried poultry from the basket. You?

Not since last week. We didn’t expect him to be gone this long. Hell, it’s been almost a month since he left. Do you think there’s more to this than him wanting to make amends with Jessica? Jon and Sam were pretty tight, despite being decades apart in age and as different as night and day. If anyone would know, it’d be Jon.

Jon’s easy smile returned. I think he wants to make more than amends with Jessica.

Chris groaned and rubbed his eyes, glad he hadn’t dirtied his fingers with buffalo sauce yet. Jesus, man, I did not need that image.

What? I could’ve been talking about papier-mâché.

You were not talking about papier-mâché. I don’t think Sam even knows what papier-mâché is. I doubt there’s a sports team for it.

Jon snorted. Everyone knows what papier-mâché is. But you’re right. I was talking about the midnight train to pound town. And puppies. Gorgeous, raven-haired, puppies.

You’re disgusting. How would you feel if I called your kid a puppy?

If the adorable fluffy ears fit…

Chris scanned the table for something benign to throw at his brother but came up empty. There was no way he was throwing a salt shaker, much less hot wings. But seriously. You think he’s got a thing for Jess? Really?

Jon shrugged. He’s never said anything to me about it, but I hope so. It’s about damn time he settled down. Never thought you and Joey would beat him to it.

What’s that supposed to mean?

Jon waved a half-eaten wing in a dismissive gesture. Nothing personal. Just that he’s pushing ninety, and—you know, we’re getting off track here. We’re supposed to be talking about Colt’s martyr complex. I’m doing my best, but I’m not a miracle worker. We won the battle today, but the war is far from over. And it’s not looking good. Putting Leta on the stand is our best option. Maybe our only option, if you want to keep him from doing serious time.

Sighing, Chris fell into his thoughts while Jon continued to devour wings, only stopping to thank the waiter when fresh beers were dropped off. He didn’t like the idea of overruling Colt. As he’d said, he wasn’t that kind of Alpha. But there was a lot riding on this case. A lot more than Colt’s freedom. And as he’d also said… they didn’t owe Leta squat. She’d started this, and she had no one to blame but herself if it came crashing down on her. Maybe it was worth Colt’s agency being taken away to serve the greater good. But he also couldn’t forget that the whole reason Colt was in this mess was that he’d fallen on his sword to protect Chris. That knowledge weighed on him, heavy and dense like a lead ball in his stomach.

I’ll talk to Colt and see if I can change his mind. Court’s in recess for the weekend anyway. But I’m not going to overrule him. For now. Keep doing what you do. We’ll see how it goes.

Jon shook his head, his disappointment clear. But he held his tongue while he finished his wings and drank half of his fresh beer. Then he motioned at Chris’s untouched basket. You gonna finish that?

Chris pushed it toward him without a word. Was it the right decision? He didn’t know. No one ever said being Alpha would be easy. But it was the decision he could live with, for now.

2

T his is delicious, Joey murmured around a mouthful of decadent strawberry cake with fudge icing. Justin’s going to make someone a good wife someday.

Beside her, Chris laughed and cut off another bite for himself. Joey put her fork down on the edge of the plate and snuggled against his side, making herself stop before she ended up overindulging. They were settled on a wide lounger on the back porch, looking out on the calm lake under the bright half-moon and twinkling stars.

A gentleman, a scholar, and a damn good baker, Chris replied. I think I’ve gained ten pounds since he moved in.

Joey groaned and gave his flat, firm stomach a swat. Have not. Don’t torment me. Your fucking metabolism, I swear…

Snickering, he leaned over to plant a wet kiss on her cheek. His breath smelled so sweet, she couldn’t resist stealing a kiss before he straightened. While she licked the lingering sweetness from her lips, she studied his profile in the darkness. They’d left the porch light off to better enjoy the stars, but there was more than enough light from the moon for their wolf eyes to see.

Her actions earlier in the day gnawed at her conscience. She’d sent the realtor the official offer but hadn’t heard anything back yet. The reality of what she’d done had long since sunk in, and she dreaded telling Chris about it. He was going to be pissed, and he probably should be. There was a tiny part of her that hoped the offer was rejected, just so she could sweep it under the rug and forget about it. There was another part of her that knew the sooner she told him about it, the better. While they battled it out in the back of her mind, she sipped decaffeinated coffee and enjoyed the peace and quiet of the night as best she could.

Chris offered her the last bite of the cake on his fork, only eating it after she declined with a shake of her head. He set the small plate on the arm of the lounger, then curled both arms around her and nuzzled her hair.

Something on your mind? he asked.

There it was. The opening as big as a Mack truck that she could drive her confession through.

Let’s get married, she blurted instead.

He chuckled. The courthouse is closed until Monday.

Not soon enough. And there’s a three day waiting period after the application is filed.

You’ve done your homework. Chris pulled back to look into her eyes. What brought this up?

Nothing. I’m just tired of waiting. Let’s go to Vegas.

Now?

Yeah! Or tomorrow. This weekend. Just you and me. Joey’s heart was beating a mile a minute by then. It was true enough. She was tired of waiting. She wanted to get married. But this was not the conversation they needed to have.

Seriously?

Yes, seriously. She poked his stomach.

The uncertainty on his face was far from encouraging. I dunno, babe. This doesn’t seem like a good time to flit off to Vegas. Sara’s going to have the baby any day now. I need to talk to Colt this weekend while court is in recess. And with Sam gone, who would we leave in charge?

This was now officially tied for the most disappointing moment of Joey’s entire day and edging into the lead. They were the same tired excuses. Not invalid, but not what she’d wanted to hear either. Sighing, she pulled away and swung her legs over the edge of the lounger.

He caught her arm. Hey. You know I want nothing more than to marry you, right?

You have a funny way of showing it. Joey pulled her arm away and stood before facing him. The hurt in his eyes did little to stem the frustration building inside her. You’ve been stalling for weeks. If it’s not one thing, it’s another.

I haven’t been stalling.

You have! Every time I’ve brought up the wedding, it’s been something. ‘We can’t do it until Sam gets back.’ ‘We can’t leave in the middle of the trial.’ ‘Sara’s too pregnant.’

Chris rubbed the back of his neck. Those are all very legitimate concerns…

Okay, so tell me this: If not now, when? Because it’s starting to feel like you don’t want to get married at all anymore.

She turned on her heel and stalked for the back door, well aware of the sound of him rising and following her. His legs were longer, and he caught up easily with her, slamming a hand against the porch door before she could open it.

That’s not true. He all but growled the words as he loomed behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, unruffled. Talk is cheap. Put your money where your mouth is, Martin. Then she swatted his arm away so she could open the door.

He followed her inside. What the hell is going on with you tonight? I’ve never known you to be this selfish.

Selfish? Joey’s voice took on a shrill edge as she whirled to face him, nearly spilling her coffee in the process. How dare you. You agreed to Vegas weeks ago. You said you wanted to do it as soon as possible. And there’s been nothing but roadblocks since then.

I didn’t agree to elope! I agreed to compromise. You want to deny Dad the chance to walk his only daughter down the aisle? And Sara’s baby shower is tomorrow. You want to bail on her?

Okay, when he put it that way, it did sound selfish. But that just made her angrier. She stalked to the sink and poured the rest of her coffee out, then dropped the mug amongst the rest of the dishes waiting to be loaded into the dishwasher. It clattered noisily against the plates and other sundries.

Of course I don’t want those things. I just want to get this over with.

Get it over with. He snorted. How romantic.

That’s not— That’s not what I meant. Joey pushed away from the counter with a growl and swept past him in the direction of the living room.

Then what did you mean? Don’t walk away from me, dammit!

Joey spun to find him right behind her. She jabbed his chest with a finger. You’re right, okay? I’m being selfish. I’m a horrible friend, sister, and daughter. But fuck you for pointing it out.

Chris followed her into the