Love in the Shadows - 19. Chapter 19: Spilled Secrets

Vincent was stunned. His emotions ran wild after hearing Lei’s request. Sadness. Happiness. Anxiety. A sense of love. S-son?

It’s only been a few weeks since I met Mace and his family. They’re already willing to consider me a part of it? His mind flew to memories of his parents. He initially flinched at the thought, but he envisioned his mother smiling. Never getting to know them as adults, Vincent always assumed what his parents would do or think. Mom… Yeah, she’d want this for me. I’m not ready to move on, but I want to take a step in that direction.

Wetting his lips, Vincent swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’d like that, Lei. I’m… I don’t think I’m ready to reciprocate, but I’m okay with you calling me that.”

Lei bit back a cough as Elaine rose, putting a hand on both men’s shoulders. “Vincent, my mate and I are so happy to hear your response. My wolf’s howling as we speak.”

Looking between the two, he saw the teary eyes of his eventual in-laws. In-laws? Parents-by-bond? What’s the actual term for this? His feelings were on the edge of overwhelming him, so he turned to the one person he needed. Grabbing Mason’s hand, he was able to breathe easier. “Thanks, Mace.”

“What for, Pup?”

“Because you brought me into this group. Into this… this family.” Rubbing his eyes with his sleeves, he sniffled. “It’s been so long since I had this many people around me, let alone call them friends and family.”

There was movement beside him. He saw Lei and Elaine stepping back as Mason took their place at Vincent’s side. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. We’re happy to have you. I couldn’t imagine my life right now without you. We’re here for you. All of us; even little Lowe.”

Leaning into Mason’s embrace, Vincent whispered, “Thank you.”

“Any time. Now finish your food before it gets too cold.” Mason kissed Vincent’s forehead before turning to his parents. “Mom, Dad, thanks. That means a lot to me and my mate.”

As dinner picked up again, stories were shared, and laughter filled the room. Mason cut a small piece of the mystery steak and placed it on Vincent’s plate. Unsure of what it was, he was assured it was delicious. Taking the bite, he enjoyed the taste and tenderness. “What’s this? It’s amazing.”

The alpha grinned. “Venison.”

Stunned, he pictured Mason’s wolf running through a forest, claiming a buck. This is nothing like that. “Expertly cooked by a master grillman. I’m still not eating raw deer,” Vincent’s murmured. It earned him a wink from Lei.

“Fair enough. Dad always liked the way it tastes cooked. Some shifters don’t care for it, but most like the ways humanity has found to prepare and cook deer.”

“Right,” Vincent said, “we have a couple local guys who bring in deer meat to the store and our meat department mixes it with pork sausage and forms them into patties.”

The three alphas’ eyes sparkled. Lei was more intrigued. “Really, now? Is there a charge for this service?”

“They only charge for the price per pound of sausage used,” answered Dave. “The butcher only gets a few people asking for it, but the customers typically leave him a tip. Twenty or thirty dollars.”

“Looks like I found my new favorite grocery store. I’ll be calling in the morning to check if I can bring in several pounds.”

With the game talk lulling, Tasha hummed. “Uh, Vincent? I’m gonna need this recipe. This mac’s too good.”

Caleb appeared incredulous. “Wow! You must really like it since you think your mac and cheese’s the best.”

Chewing, the leopardess stared at her mate. Once she swallowed, she pierced more noodles with her fork. “Boy, I know when I’ve been beat. I like mine runny and buttery, but this one’s thick with two capital C’s.” Taking another bite, she swayed in her seat. “This is like that dish that’s served by your favorite auntie at Thanksgiving.”

“I’ll need the recipe as well,” Elaine chirped. “I can see sticking some shredded pork or chicken in this.”

Tasha waved her fork in excitement. “Oh! Throw some broccoli in there, and cauliflower.”

Giggling, Vincent decided to share. “It’s just a recipe I found online. It comes from Terry Crews’ family. Seemed like an easy mac to make, and it turned out to be my best weapon in the arsenal.”

The ladies looked at each other as if they had stepped in the ring with Mike Tyson. “Vin?” Tasha asked, “You got more in the arsenal? Me and you’s gonna have a cookin’ sesh one of these days.”

When everyone finished, Vincent, Elaine, and Tasha took over the cleaning and bonded over stories from Caleb’s past. Loaded with tales from summer camps, the mage did not hesitate to arm Tasha with embarrassing details. Sorry, G-man. Someone else has to tease you for wearing loose trunks in the lake. When done, they walked to the back porch and found both betas smoking cigarettes, both deltas playing with Lowe, and all three alphas puffing on cigars. Vincent immediately met Mason’s gaze. “Hey. I didn’t know you smoked.”

Patting his leg, Mason signaled for him to sit on his lap. “I usually don’t, but Ty has this mysteriously never-ending supply of kick-ass cigars. Want a puff?”

“No, I’m good. Not a fan of the smell, but you look sexy as fuck with that in your mouth.” He reclined onto the wolf and pecked Mason’s cheek.

Everyone arranged their chairs around the firepit. Dave, flicking his cigarette butt into the flames, spoke to the New York council, “So, all three of you’ll be here by the end of January. Excited?”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Dirk replied. “My bear’s loyal to Tierney, and I got nothing else tying me to New York.”

“Same here,” added Kaplan. “All I got is law practice and a little medical experience, but that’s it.”

Mason nodded. “I’ll try to have something lined up for you both. Do you two need assistance with housing?”

They shook their head as Dirk answered, “That’s not necessary. We’re the ones requesting sanctuary. We wouldn’t move if we didn’t have the means to do so.”

The wolves puffed on their cigars and cigarettes as they continued their conversation about the future pack members’ living situations. Tierney stated he would begin looking at potential property once he notified the Executive Council of his retirement.

As the night dragged on, Lei ventured inside and brought out several bottles of whiskey and bourbon. Everyone had at least one glass, but the three alphas took the majority. The ladies came out with glasses of wine, which Vincent gladly took when offered one. Beats bourbon! I can’t handle that burn. Sipping on it, he quickly questioned where the vineyard was. Purple Toad? Strange name, but this is an awesome dessert wine. Very sweet, but man… eighteen percent alcohol? I can’t even taste it! In no time at all, his glass was refilled.

“You doing good, Pup?”

Holding his glass with both hands, Vincent got giggly and rested his head against Mason’s neck. “Yeah. This… is a good night. Hey, y-you’ve had several glasses. How’re you not getting buzzed, and I am?”

Masson ruffled the human’s hair. “That’s because shifters process alcohol at such a fast rate, it’s almost impossible for us to get intoxicated. To get buzzed, I’d have to down a whole bottle of whiskey. We just drink to enjoy the taste.”

“Oh. That makes sense.” Sipping more wine, Vincent melted onto his mate. The lycan’s arms were around his waist like a seat belt. “You know, the longer I sit here, the more I don’t smell your cigar breath.”

As everyone snickered around them, Mason grinned. “How many of those have you had?”

The mage’s pupils went up as his jaw went down. “Umm… I had a bourbon and Coke, and this is my second glass of Miss Elaine’s wine.”

“Alright, my mate. I think it’s time to tuck you in.”

Vincent made a pouty face that could have won an Oscar. “But I’m not sleepy.”

Despite their attempts to hush themselves, nearly everyone laughed. Lei shook his head. “Mace, let your mate have some fun. I imagine it’s been years since he had the opportunity to let loose.”

“I—” Mason looked between Vincent and his father, then caved. “All right. You want another glass, Vinnie?”

“Yes, please!”

Elaine came bearing the bottle and filled the cup halfway, but as Vincent polished it off, he saw Lowe napping in Tasha’s arms. S… Sounds like a good idea, little man.

***

With the sleeping human in his arms, Mason took the glass from Vincent’s hand and set it on the porch railing to prevent a spill. Gods. I could have this every day and die a happy wolf. Holding his mate, he couldn’t help himself but stroke the hair on Vincent’s head, making sure the bangs were out of his face.

Seeing how the party had two sleeping attendees, everyone conversed in shifter speak, whispering in barely audible tones. “Mason, I gotta say,” Dave said as he inhaled on a fresh cigarette. “You and Vincent give me new hope of finding my destined. It almost makes me envious.”

Mason saw everyone nodding, only to return to watching Vincent. “I feel blessed to have him. He makes me want to jumpstart the next phase in my life, kids and everything.” And that’s sayin’ something. The Owensville alpha never thought of having children of his own. He always found kids annoying, save a certain few like Lowe or some of the pack’s other little ones. As he gazed at the sleeping angel in his hold, he cherished the thought of starting a family. “He makes me so happy. If I wasn’t young, I’d retire with him right now.”

The two other mated couples shared a loving stare with their partners, surely feeling the same way as their alpha. The night went on into the early morning hours before deciding it was time to wind things down. Carrying Vincent, Mason rose and stretched his legs. He bid his parents and friends a good night before heading to the truck. Opening the door, he set the mage in the passenger, waking him from his alcoholic slumber. “Hey, baby. We’ll be home soon.”

Vincent spoke in slurred mumbles as he somehow buckled his seat belt.

Driving home, Mason imagined laying the man down in bed and cuddling him tightly. Pulling into the driveway after a quiet trip, he saw the New York council parking behind him. Fishing out his keys, he tossed them to Dirk and grabbed Vincent. Tierney waved as he adjourned for the night, and Kaplan opened his book after curling up with a blanket.

Sitting Vincent on the edge of the bed, Mason managed to get the man’s shirt off. The mage assisted by kicking his shoes off, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t unfasten his pants. Once free from the confines, Vincent slunk underneath the comforter and promptly passed out again.

Damn, he knows how to sleep. One sock on and all… Chuckling, Mason stripped and joined Vincent.

***

Damn it! I can’t find anything else on this kid. Shaw flipped through the files at the tiny desk in his dimly lit apartment. With the laptop screen illuminating his face, he sipped from the stale beer and scoured the online police database, hoping he had missed something.

Maybe I’m wrong. This Bolton kid seemed nice enough, and he was surprised when I threw out those accusations. I hate to admit it, but my gut might be wrong on this one. He closed the computer, reclined, and sighed. Need a cig. Getting up, he shoved his arms through the frayed, charcoal bathrobe. Sitting in the foldable camping chair he kept outside, he struck a match. Puffing on the cigarette, he slouched and replayed the interrogation. Maybe I need to look into Wilson next.

Nah! Henry would kick my ass to the curb. Can’t take any more risks with this case. Chief hasn’t said it, but I know I’m on my last straw. He’s just begging for a reason to fire me now.

Flicking ashes off the end, Shaw took a deep breath. A warm gust of wind blew through his thin hair. Nice breeze. Hope the warm weather lasts long this year. Hate to be out here in the fuckin’ cold. He looked out over the small parking lot from his second-story apartment.

Metal clinking came from the nearby staircase, and Shaw closed his eyes and relaxed. Probably Mrs. Mildred and her high heels. Old lady’s gonna fall and bust her hip again if she keeps wearing those. As the noises grew louder, he turned to the landing. A dark figure with graying hair came into view. He’s new. Haven’t seen any moving trucks the past week. Might be here visiting a friend… Or banging someone.

His thoughts ran cold as the mysterious man locked his gaze on him. Or not. Damn, my gun’s inside. I think I can take him if it comes to it.

“Pardon me, but are you the local detective?” asked the man.

Shaw felt a shiver run down his spine. That accent. It’s not German, and he’s sure as hell not from around here. For fuck’s sake, don’t tell me—

“It seems I’ve come at a bad time, but I was hoping to assist you in a matter that interests both of us.”

Shaw got up to gain an equal footing. “And what’s that, stranger?”

“Oh, please. I’m no stranger. After all, you’ve been doing your homework on me.”

Fuck! Swallowing, Shaw focused. No way. This can’t be the guy. “Just so we’re clear, you’re Stefan, right? The guy who killed Paul and Marianne Bolton in Maryland?”

A thin smile curled on the man’s lips. “Yes, detective. I’m Stefan Gregoro. I believe we should have a chat. May we go inside? The matter is rather sensitive.”

Taking a step back, he clutched the door knob. Fully prepared to move and grab the pistol on the coffee table, Shaw steeled himself. Gotta be prepared to take him on. Whether I believe the kid or not, this guy means business.

Stefan gingerly pocketed his hands in the trench coat, causing the detective to open the door. “Keep your hands where I can see them,” he ordered.

Obeying, Stefan raised both empty hands. “I’m going to pull out a paper with my left index finger and thumb, nice and slowly.” As promised, the Italian procured the object between the mentioned digits. “See? No tricks, and I have no weapons on me. I know you’ve been digging for information about me, so I figured I would come for a quick chat.”

“Yeah? About what?”

“Why, little Vincent Bolton. I’m sure you know our paths have crossed. I will admit, I was the one who ended his parents’ lives, and am willing to serve the proper judgment for my actions.”

Shaw couldn’t believe what he just heard. What? He just admitted to committing murder.

“But,” Stefan added, “I believe you, a professional investigator, deserve to know all of the facts. Little Vinnie isn’t telling you everything.”

Taking a slow breath, Shaw tried to process the situation. I mean, there’s always two sides to a story. But what the fuck do I do now? Do I trust the kid who’s probably holding back something, or the Italian murderer who has more information? I’d be happier with my gun and him cuffed. “Okay, what do you have against the kid?”

“Oh, he’s no child, Detective Shaw. I’m sorry, but before we go further, could we take this indoors? I’ll be happy to wear handcuffs, or even be held at gunpoint if that will soothe your nerves. I’m at your mercy, plain and simple. I just want this conversation to remain between you and me.”

Fighting a war of thoughts, he prioritized. I need my gun, no question. “All right, Gregoro. I’m going to open my door, but I’m walking backward. You stay that distance from me at all times, got it?”

“Of course.” Stefan abided by the demands.

Shaw kept his eyes on Stefan the entire time. When he stooped and grabbed his pistol, he turned the safety off and pointed it at the man’s head. He sidestepped to his jacket on the dining room chair and fished out his cuffs. “Now sit down, put those on, and give me an excuse not to get a SWAT team here.”

The older man nodded and secured the metal around his wrists. “Is this fine for you, Terry? Good. So, tell me what you know about Mr. Bolton.”

“Uh uh. You have the information. I ain’t telling you shit, especially if you plan on hurting him.”

Stefan appeared genuinely shocked. “Oh gods, no! I would never harm him. I only came to relay information, and I’d rather not waste time by telling you things you already know. What I have to tell you would be beneficial to your investigation.”

Keeping his weapon drawn, Shaw lowered it slightly. “Right. The investigation about you sending mercenaries after him.”

“No, your investigation. Little Vinnie’s hiding something from you. But then again, so’s the whole world.”

Gritting his teeth, the detective was getting tired of the game. “What do you mean?”

Holding up the piece of paper once more, Stefan scoffed as Shaw raised his weapon. “You might want to lower that thing, or at least put the safety back on.”

As Shaw contemplated giving the man the time of day, there was an amber flicker between Stefan’s fingers. What the…

A corner of the paper he held, started to burn. There was no fire; just a smoldering line slowly crawling down. When the embers ate half of it, the paper stopped disintegrating. What the fresh hell is this? There’s no explanation.

“Detective,” Stefan said, capturing Shaw’s attention. “As much as I hate the phrase, I feel I must say it. Do you believe in magic?”

M-magic? Are you joking me? “Is this some kind of prank? A fuckin’ trick? Hell no, I don’t believe in magic.”

The magician gave him a cold stare. “Well, you should.” Moving his foot slightly, the man vanished, only to be replaced by a cloud of black smog.

It felt like Shaw’s heart had stopped. In an instant, the man in his custody was gone. Disappeared. Poof! Where—

Stefan reappeared, and the man was instantly faced with the barrel of the gun again. Perfectly lined up in his gun’s iron sights, the detective was ready to pull the trigger. “H-how did you… You were just there. “

“I assure you, Mr. Shaw, this is no mind trick. For me to explain, I need you to trust me when I say… well, certain magic in this world is real.” One of the mage’s wrists turned black, and the metal cuff fell off. Repeating the move on the other hand, Stefan twirled the now-useless restraints with a finger. “The flames can be misconstrued as a simple parlor trick, but you can’t rationalize my movements.

“Now, may I have your attention? I’d like to tell you all about little Vinnie.”

***

Mason dropped Vincent off at Greenthumb the next day. Little did the mage know the alpha had secret plans. Oh, my little mate’s in for a nice surprise. He drove to Mesker Park City and stopped at the largest home-improvement store he could find. Venturing past the different fixtures and appliances, he found the outdoor design service desk. “Excuse me, I was wondering if you could help me.”

The young, lycan clerk turned and bared his neck. “Y-yes, alpha. What can I do for you?”

“You don’t need to submit; I’m the one asking for help. I have a little project in mind, and I know I can do it myself, but a crew would be faster. I’ll be away with my mate next month, and it’s going to be a surprise for him.”

“Of course. What’s the plan?”

***

After half an hour of toying with designs, Mason was confident. That guy really knows his stuff. Can’t wait to see what it’ll look like! All right, next item on the list. Doing his research earlier in the morning, Mason found the perfect present for his mate. He’s so going to murder me for this, but I know he’ll love it. The wolf turned into the establishment, parked, and immediately spotted the gift from the website. Yep, that’s it.

“Good afternoon,” said a peppy salesman. “Interested in this little guy?”

The human’s line amused him. “You sure it’s a guy?”

“Hey, they can’t all be girls, can they?”

Liking the guy already, Mason’s preconception of salesmen dissipated. “You got me there, but yep. Getting right to it, I’d like to buy ‘im outright.”

“I-Okay! Would you like to use one of our financing options?”

“No, I’ll be writing a check. Already cleared it with the bank this morning.”

Seeing the man spin on his heels, Mason knew he had made the guy’s day. “Okie dokie, then. No questions here. Let’s head inside and get the contract ready.”

***

Vincent loved his new position but nerves got to him as he entered the management office. It was his second time there since his hiring. I’ve heard this place’s called ‘The Bullpen.’ All the managers like to sit here and stare at all the workers who walk in. He shook the willies off his shoulders as Dave pulled another chair to one of the desks.

“All right, let’s get started. I’ll make you a log-in real quick. You’ll need it to make the schedule and edit the orders, among a few other things like printing sales plans and display planograms.” Dave’s fingers flew across the keyboard, and Vincent focused on the screen, prepared to repeat the steps if need be. “Okay, that’s done. Your username is the same you’d use to look at your online check stubs, and your password is that.”

Being handed a sticky note, Vincent nodded. “Got it.”

“You’ll need to change it when you first log in and make sure you remember that one. If you forget it, I’ll need to reset it. Here, I’ll log out so you can get that done.”

Completing the task, Vincent followed Dave’s finger as the lycan pointed. “Creating the schedule’s pretty easy since the new software automatically does it for you. All you have to do is adjust a few things. You’ll also need to make sure everyone gets their days off right. Employees can put in requests off online, but for the older folks who aren’t tech-savvy, I made this sheet that stays in my binder here. I try my best to give everyone their time-off requests, so sometimes you have to play around to fill the holes.”

“Seems simple enough.” Vincent listened as Dave drolled on about which employees were cross-trained for frozen and dairy, as well as what to do when certain ones went on vacation. Okay, so Reiss and Becca are the only two who can check in vendors on the back dock. So when one goes on vacation, either Dave or I have to fill in the other two days of the week. Writing everything down in his pocket-sized notebook, the mage reminded himself to review it all later.

“Looks like you got the gist of it. We’ll make the schedule together next week and see how you do. We need to get back on the floor. Some endcaps need to be changed out. Donny texted me last night they got hit by extreme couponers.”

Oh, dear gods. Late at night, too? What assholes! “Did he complain about having to find more detergent pods in the back?”

Dave snorted. “No, he got pissed when he had to help them push out seven carts of shit to their mini-van, and then load it.”

Shaking his head, he walked with Dave down the front line of displays. Nearly every one of them was littered with the cardboard trays the product came in. Jeez… This is going to suck! Starting on what used to be a sports drink endcap, Vincent immediately noticed a problem. “Dave, pricing messed up again. They put a sign for the cheaper brand when this was filled with Gatorade.”

The beta yanked the cardstock out of the holster. “You’re fuckin’—” Hushing as a customer strolled by, Dave growled. “Good catch, but Quinn’s going to shit a brick when he finds out. That put each bottle at a twenty-five-cent loss. I’ll go deal with him if you want to return these few bottles to the shelf. After that, grab that pallet of four-pound sugar and stick guards on it.”

“Got it, boss.” He tucked a few bottles in his arm and headed down the aisle. Once done, he walked toward the dock. About to push on the double doors, he stopped. Something’s off. No, I think I’m being watched. Looking around, he saw several people pushing carts in multiple directions.

His eyes landed on a middle-aged man in a black sweater vest. Vincent saw part of his face as he turned away, and it made him nervous. Gray eyes, graying hair… There’s no way.

Just as the man was about to round the bakery’s corner, he looked back at Vincent and smiled.

The mage’s heart stopped. S-Stefan!

Vincent’s legs operated on autopilot. His heart pounded like a gong. He’s here, in the store, and he smiled at me! The mage knew he wasn’t ready for a fight of this magnitude, but his mind wouldn’t let his parents’ murderer walk out. The man’s pace was quick, so Vincent had to speed up. I… I need help! “Dave,” he said under his breath, “Stefan’s here. Heading to produce.” I can only hope he hears me.

Following from a distance, Vincent refused to let Stefan out of his sight. His vision tunneled. With nothing in his cart, the man abandoned it and walked out of the store. On his way, Vincent grabbed an orange safety vest, as if he were going to bring carts inside.

“Vincent, dial 2291. Vincent, 2291.”

Dave. Hearing his name over the intercom, Vincent made an assumption. He probably didn’t hear me. Gotta stay on Stefan, though! Finding a stray cart in the parking lot, he pursued his parents’ killer. He watched as the man dug keys from a pocket. Getting closer, Vincent watched Stefan step into a gray SUV of some sort. He drives. Good.

Wait… The action didn’t make sense. Why would he drive?

Vincent halted, and the window rolled down. Glancing at him, the stranger dipped his head in acknowledgment. His eyes. They’re hazel. Not gray. It’s… That’s not him. Managing to barely wave as the SUV rolled away, Vincent felt relieved. That’s not him.

The relief was short-lived. Regret flooded in its place. What the hell was I thinking? Going gung-ho after my parents’ killer? In broad daylight and in public? I… Shaking his head, he gripped the cart handles as hard as he could. I could’ve exposed the supernatural. Hell, he couldn’ve killed me right here! Abandoning his futile effort, he pushed the cart into a nearby corral.

Then someone came out from behind a car in front of him. It was Shaw. What’s… What’s he doing here?

The detective angrily stared at Vincent as he walked closer.

“Detective Sh—”

Shaw closed in and whispered in Vincent’s ear, “I know what you are, mage.”

Vincent gasped as the man strolled past him.