Psy & Changelings 11 - Tangle of Need

yourself.”
    “Mercy forgives me … most of the time.” A slow smile. “Come on, enough procrastinating.”
    As they walked, Hawke said, “Adria and Riaz. Problems?”
    “Personality clash, I think. They seem to work well enough together despite it.” The lieutenant glanced at him. “Why? You want me to split their shifts?”
    “No, better they work it out.” He’d picked up something more violent and intense than a simple personality clash, but his wolf knew when to be discreet, so he didn’t mention it. Instead, he turned the conversation to the juveniles, and the remainder of their walk passed in shoptalk.
    While meetings such as this one promised to be weren’t ever on his favorite things-to-do list, it felt good to be doing something as normal as worrying about the juveniles. Not discussing Psy surveillance or planning to defend against an attack. Not stockpiling weapons, or checking medical supplies as they waited to evacuate their vulnerable. Not even meeting with the DarkRiver leopards to assess a suspected threat.
    It had been months since his wolves had had a chance to just be Pack.
    However, Hawke knew the fact SnowDancer and its allies had won the battle didn’t mean their enemies wouldn’t regroup and return. But he was a wolf. He also knew how to live in the moment—a time in which he was mated to a woman who challenged, loved, and teased him; his pack was safe; and the den filled with the vibrant sounds of children’s voices once more. “How’s the planning going for the mating ceremony?”Sienna was indelibly his, but his pack needed to have a chance to celebrate their alpha’s mating, and they’d get that chance four days from now.
    “Drew suggested dancing girls.”
    Hawke grinned. “How many?”
    Riley shot him an unamused look. “Don’t encourage him or I swear to God I will hire a troop of strippers, complete with spangled pasties, and watch cheerfully while Sienna barbecues you.”
    Wondering what else Drew had been suggesting, Hawke stifled his laugh. “Seriously, how’s it going?” Riley and Nell were sharing the overall organizational load, in charge of ensuring all the pieces came together into a cohesive whole.
    “Good. My brother, when he isn’t e-mailing me brochures about Brazilian samba dancers and Vegas showgirls, has found a job for every single person who wants to be involved in the preparation.”
    That was why, Hawke thought, Drew was so perfect for the position he occupied. Not quite part of the hierarchy, he was Hawke’s eyes and ears in the pack, accessible to even the weakest of their number, those who might feel intimidated approaching one of the other dominants. No one was intimidated by Drew, and that was an incredible achievement, given that the other man was SnowDancer’s tracker, charged with finding and executing rogues if the need arose. “It’ll be a good night.”
    “The best,” Riley said quietly, then took a deep breath. “We’re here.”
    Hawke folded his arms and stared at the door with a sour expression. “I hate these meetings.”
    “We should make Drew attend instead. Teach him a lesson.”
    They both stared at each other and grinned. Yeah, he thought, pushing through the door, it was nice to be doing something as ordinary as grousing about a meeting with the maternals.

Chapter 5
    ADRIA DIDN’T KNOW how she’d survived the rest of the trip up to the hydro station; the silence in the SUV had been excruciating. The journey down, the mountains bathed in the gentle afternoon sunlight, was better—she chose to ride in Mack’s vehicle, having been able to fix the problem that had stalled it. Her excuse about needing to be with him in case the truck broke down again was accepted without question. Mack’s trainee rode with Riaz, and Mack, with his silver-threaded curls and skin of warm brown marked by quiet laugh lines, was a man comfortable with silences.
    Back in the den, she didn’t stop until she was in her quarters with the door safely shut. Only then did she collapse on the bed. “Christ, Adria.” Shaking from the impact of a day that had spiraled out of control from the instant she’d run into Riaz, she just sat there, trying to get a grip on her emotions.
    The knock on the door was familiar, but she ignored it. Her visitor persisted, having obviously scented her presence, until she muttered, “It’s open.”
    Indigo, dressed in jeans paired with a plain white tee that flattered the curves of her tall body,