Miguel's Secret Cub Read online

  “Hey, sweetie,” Alyssa said, shivering because I’d let in a draft. I hurried inside and shut the door behind me. Andy jumped up from where he was coloring at the coffee table and shrieked, running over to hug me. “He was a dream, as always. You have a good day?”

  “Can’t complain,” I said, heaving Andy up in my arms to give him a hug.

  “Sure, you can,” Alyssa said, tossing me a wink. “Have fun at the game!”

  “We will!” I carried Andy across the hall to our place. “You ready for The Cougars, baby?”

  “Cougars!” Andy crowed, clapping his hands. I let him down in our tiny living room and went to change my clothes as quickly as possible and spruce up a little.

  We had just enough time to grab some food on the way to the game. I wanted to get Andy’s belly full before we got there, otherwise I knew he’d want all that overpriced concession stuff all packed with sugar. As it was, he’d throw a fit if he didn’t get an ice cream sandwich.

  Our seats weren’t the best. In fact, they were the cheapest. That meant we were sitting way in the back but this was minor league hockey after all. That rink really wasn’t big enough that there was a bad seat in the house. A while back I’d bought a foam finger that said Cougars on it because Andy got such a kick out of it (even if he also took to chewing it when he was restless) and now he was waving it as we sat down, surrounded by other exuberant Cougars fans, mostly from St. Dominic. I watched Miguel skate out on the ice with the rest of his team and like always, my heart gave a little leap.

  Even after all these years.

  By the time the game had ended, I’d chickened out once again. Andy was as cheerful as ever, not least because The Cougars had won. By the time I got home, I decided that the problem was bringing Andy with me. I was scared of telling Miguel and getting a bad reaction. If he looked at his son with anything less than awe or at least nervous anticipation, or if he seemed at all unhappy that Andy existed, I couldn’t imagine how awful it would feel, even if Andy didn’t know what was going on. I wasn’t about to tell him who Miguel was until I was sure of how things were going to go.

  That night, I tucked Andy into bed and stayed up late, sipping a cheap glass of wine and realizing that I’d been going about this all wrong. I had to go on my own to talk to Miguel. It was fairer than springing his son on him like that anyway. There was another game the next night and I promised myself that this time, I’d leave Andy with Alyssa. I’d go to the game on my own. I’d tell Miguel, and then I’d deal with whatever the consequences might be.

  At one in the morning, I finally went to bed, but for a while I just lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling and thinking of the old days. Miguel had been the first friend I’d ever had in my life and we kept coming back to each other. Even when I thought he’d betrayed me in a truly horrible way, he’d ended up saving me. I had to have faith in the bond between us that had existed since we were little kids.

  But when I finally dropped off to sleep, I dreamed of the wizard. I saw him looming over me, touching me with hands so cold they hurt, as an icy hot sensation poured over my body. He was putting the magic in me and I couldn’t stop him.

  Miguel…

  I woke up, gasping, at four in the morning. Even in the quiet of my room, I sat up and looked around as if expecting to see him. I routinely had nightmares about that time in my life. They still seemed so real that it took me a while to get over them. Now I turned on my side and tried to regulate my breathing, telling myself that the wizard was gone. I was safe. Andy was safe.

  Because Miguel had saved me in the end.

  Tonight was the night.

  The game was over and I’d dressed up a little more than any other time when I’d sworn to myself that this time I would actually speak to Miguel. I wore my good skinny black pants and a soft gray sweater that accentuated my curves. I wore a pastel pink scarf and glittery earrings. I had checked in on Andy at Alyssa’s after work and then crossed the hall to my place to spend way too long on my hair.

  Alyssa was convinced I had a date. That figured.

  The game was over. The Cougars had lost this time but they had such a strong streak lately, nobody even seemed worried. I took deep breath after deep breath, gripping the arms of my cheap seat as everyone else filed out of the rink. I would wait until most of the crowd had gone and then I would go down to the hall where the locker room was. I’d seen a woman with a baby who seemed to be with the captain of the team waiting there before. It looked like my best shot to talk to Miguel. It wasn’t as if this was pro-hockey after all. There wasn’t a whole bunch of security and press to fight through, other than one guard and the sports reporter for the local paper.

  Eventually, there was hardly anyone left and I stood in the big empty corridor, staring at the door that simply said “EMPLOYEES ONLY” but which I knew was the Cougars’ locker room. Luca Barelli, the captain, had already taken off with his mate and his cub. I’d run into that woman before. She’d seemed nice. I’d sat next to her at a game once, back when the very idea of talking to Miguel had seemed terrifying. I couldn’t tell if she recognized me now, but she had looked at me with some curiosity before she left with Barelli.

  I shifted on my feet, restless, and rang my hands. When the door opened and a bunch of players came pouring out I stood directly in their line of vision. I get some winks and come ons from some of the guys and I ignored them. There was only one man I wanted to see. I could smell him already; I’d known his scent since I was nearly Andy’s age.

  Miguel walked out. He looked a little grumpy, probably because The Cougars had lost. The other guys already seemed to have moved on but I knew Miguel. He just hated losing. It always stuck with him for a while but it also made him fight twice as hard the next time.

  I watched his gaze skirt over the crowd of guys as he ambled out of the locker room in jeans and a t-shirt, still wiping sweat from his neck with a small towel. My heart was thumping painfully and I took a step forward just as his gaze met mine.

  I saw the completely blank expression first, as if he was staring right past me. Then slowly recognition dawned. I watched his dark eyes widened and his mouth drop open.

  He looked beautiful up close. He was better looking than he had been when we were all younger. He had grown into his face. His hair was still long but it was cut a little nicer, falling in thick, black waves to his shoulders. He had a bit of stubble on his strong chin. He looked more like a man than a boy now and it fit him well. But I knew he mostly looked more handsome because he was happy. I was glad he was happy.

  Miguel looked at me like he’d seen a ghost which was fair. He hadn’t seen me in nearly five years, give or take. But really that wasn’t so long a time either.

  “Daisy,” Miguel said. His mouth trembled a little when he said it and his expression softened. He suddenly looked boyish again.

  “Hi, Miguel.” I took a step closer and I felt like my heart might leap right out of my chest. “How have you been?”

  It was the most awkward sounding sentence I’d ever heard come out of my mouth and I rolled my eyes at myself but Miguel didn’t seem to notice.

  “Uh, okay…” Miguel said, pushing back his hair. “Uh, I mean, what are you…? How are you…?”

  “I’ve been trying to find you for a long time,” I said slowly. “Then I had to get up the courage to actually speak to you.” I took a deep breath and tried to look stronger than I felt. “We have to talk, Miguel.”

  “Wow. Uh, alright?” Miguel blinked and seemed to be trying to find his bearings. “This is weird.”

  For a moment, I was angry, considering the circumstances of why I hadn’t seen him in so long. But I knew how shocking it must be to him to see me suddenly, so I breathed through it, and anyway he was being agreeable so far. He was awkward and fumbling for a minute as we stood there in the hall and it was a strange look on him, but also kind of cute. He finally decided we should go have coffee at a place on the main drag in St. Dominic. He’d walked to the rin
k that night so we took my car. The ride was silent and surreal but I felt as if we were both full of questions for each other and things we wanted to say. It was difficult to know where to begin.

  “Have I seen you in the stands before?” Miguel said quietly. “I kept thinking I saw you when I’d play…”

  “I did go to a few games,” I admitted. “I was trying to get up the nerve to talk to you. And then when you’d see me I’d take off. I was so freaked out.”

  “Jesus,” Miguel muttered. He leaned on his hand and glanced over at me as I drove us through town. “How long have you known where I was? How long have you lived close by?”

  “A few months,” I said. “Something like that. I waitress at a diner in Middlesmark. Pays the bills. Or almost pays the bills anyway.”

  “Hmm.” Miguel seemed to absorb that and looked out the window at the snowy streets going by. There had been a time when we were closest, where things between us weren’t awkward in the least. Those were times when Miguel would find me reading under a tree or hanging out on the porch in front of the shabby little shack I grew up in. He’d lean on my shoulder or put his head in my lap and I’d stroke his hair. That was a long time ago. “You look...beautiful. Better than before I mean. Not that you were…”

  “Thanks,” I said. My lips quirked up in an involuntary smile. “You look good too. Handsome.”

  We were sitting across from each other at a table that seemed too small in front of a window that looked out on St. Dom’s Main Street. The place was nicer than Middlesmark. Everything was brick and wintery barren trees strewn with Christmas lights and little pines lining the sidewalks. It looked like a postcard for small towns. I took off my parka and twisted my fingers under the table and a server took our orders.

  “Hot chocolate with mint?” Miguel asked, nodding at me. It had always been a favorite in the winter when we were kids. My lips twitched. “Coffee actually.”

  Finally, we had our drinks and there was nothing left for us to do but talk. I was trying to come up with the speeches I’d rehearsed a thousand times for this moment but Miguel beat me to it.

  “I’m glad you found me,” Miguel said. He raised his eyes and I relaxed a little. He was looking at me the way he’d always looked at me. Like he knew me, like maybe he had always been the one person who did.

  “Did you ever look for me?” I said.

  He swallowed and stared down at his coffee, his dark hair falling into his eyes just like when he was a kid. “I thought about it a lot. All the time. I thought for sure you’d hate me. Why would you ever want to see me again?”

  “Because it’s us,” I said. My voice pitched up a little. I’d been sitting on this a long time. It was hard not to get a little riled up now that he was finally sitting here in front of me. “Because we… I thought we understood each other in a way nobody else did. And then you left and…”

  Miguel nodded and ducked his head, just taking it. I think he expected me to just start yelling at him and leave, as if that was the only reason I’d wanted to find him. I bet he really thought that too. “This isn’t why I’m here,” I said. “To yell at you.”

  “Then why are you here?” He said. “I don’t know what you want. I don’t have answers-”

  I rubbed my eyes. He was getting defensive. It wasn’t unfamiliar, but it was kind of annoying. “Answers to what?” I muttered. “Why you took off after all that? You owed me more than that-”

  “I know.”

  “Well, don’t interrupt,” I said.

  We sounded just like the teenagers we used to be. It was kind of hilarious. We should have been walking through the forest, smoking and trying to get away from the wanna-be alpha dickheads that used to make our lives miserable in the old pride. We should have been hiding behind the gym, awkwardly making out. It was as if we’d always been together but never admitted it.

  Why hadn’t we just stayed together?

  Oh right. Because Miguel.

  “Jesus,” Miguel snapped. “Sorry.”

  “I’m trying to tell you something,” I said, gritting my teeth. “But I need you to, ya know, hear it. Don’t be an asshole.”

  “I don’t know where he is,” Miguel said tightly.

  I frowned at him. “You don’t know where who is?”

  Miguel looked like he might cry; his eyes were bright and his lip trembled, but the expression was fleeting and suddenly he was narrowing his eyes, trying to look indifferent. “Haldo,” he muttered.

  I hadn’t heard anyone speak that name since the last time we’d seen each other. Even now, it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I felt that tingling vibration of magic inside me and I saw a spoon on the table began to move by itself. I blinked and calmly stopped it with my palm, pretending I just happened to be putting my hand there. Miguel didn’t seem to notice.

  “That’s…” I shook my head. I was rattled now. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. I was supposed to tell Miguel he had a son with tears in my eyes and he was supposed to slowly smile and beg to meet him and promise to be in his life… At least that’s what I’d fantasized. I’d had other darker thoughts that I’d tell him and he’d wordlessly walk away and slam a door. “That’s not why I’m here. It’s got nothing to do with him.”

  Miguel started to open his mouth and I had an urge to tell him before he could say anything else stupid. “Daisy-”

  “You have a son.” The words were sharp and high. I felt as if they rang once they were spoken as if it had been a spell. They sure hit him like one. Miguel looked as if he’d been slapped. He blinked at me. “His name is Andy. He’s four now. I’ve been...looking for you for a long time. To tell you. At least. You had to know.”

  He wasn’t saying anything.

  “I know it’s a lot to process all of a sudden,” I said. “I...just…” I looked at him imploringly, my brows drawing up. I had never wanted to beg Miguel for anything. I wanted him to volunteer it without me having to ask. “I’ve always missed you,” I whispered. I shut my mouth, blushing.

  I hadn’t intended on saying anything like that at all, even if it was true. This was just supposed to be about Andy. But seeing Miguel in front of me, it made me want to never let him go. Even if he was not always the easiest man to love. He hadn’t been an easy boy to love sometimes either. But I’d never doubted he loved me too. That had made everything else worth it.

  It happened slowly but Miguel’s mouth turned down and his brows relaxed. His eyes went blank, and he wasn’t really looking at me. His face had become a stone cold mask. He was shutting down. I’d seen it before, when his father would hit him or some other bigger guy at school would go after him. Any time he was angry or unhappy and didn’t want to deal with it, I’d seen his face turn into this mask.

  It broke my heart to see it now.

  It was worse than if he’d just shut the door.

  “If you need money, I don’t have too much but I’m sure we can figure something out.” His tone was businesslike. As if we were discussing a bank transaction.

  Tears filled my eyes and my cheeks heated with shame. It was not supposed to go this way at all.

  I had such a big lump in my throat, it was difficult to speak.

  “That’s…” I coughed and I couldn’t stop the tears sliding down my face, dripping off my chin onto the table. I thought his expression softened, but I couldn’t bear to look right at him either. “That’s not what… I have to go. This is stupid.”

  I was on my feet before I could think twice about it and I grabbed my parka, nearly knocking over the flimsy chair.

  I needed to shift. I needed to run. Yes, I’d run into the woods to clear my head.

  I was outside, the bitterly cold air a welcome jolt as I marched down the sidewalk, pulling my coat on around me and instinctually heading out off Main Street to the outlying forest.

  I was practically running already. Dimly I heard Miguel shouting behind me, asking me to stop.

  Chapter Three: Miguel


  About five years ago…

  The best thing about being a shifter of any kind is that you can get by on your own without any money as long as you’re willing to live like an animal. The less great thing about being a shifter is that much of the world has been reshaped for humans and shifters really aren’t animals...at least not the same way animals are animals.

  I’d been living like an animal myself for about a month since finally running away from my pride. It wasn’t so bad really. The shittiest part was avoiding bigger predators. They could all tell how young I was. Sixteen is plenty old if you’re a regular lion but as a shifter, I was still considered nearly a kid. Other shifters in the forest could spot my youth instantly and there was no telling what some strange old lion in the woods might want from you when you were alone. So I stayed on alert as I made my way farther and farther from home.

  I was getting closer to a city now, running out of wilderness. I’d come from North Dakota and I was pretty sure I’d made it to Minnesota. It was getting harder to avoid other shifters. They seemed to be everywhere around here. Once in a while, I’d shift into human form to poke around some town except that I was a grubby looking kid and people seemed to pay too much attention to me.

  It was pouring rain the night I met Haldo, the sorcerer.

  I’d been hunting but the woods out here weren’t much. I was too close to the cities. So I’d finally shifted back into human form and very carefully, over the course of a couple of days, I’d managed to steal clothes and food. I’d found a clean little nook to hide in under a bridge in the sketchy part of town. But it was Minnesota so it wasn’t too bad. It didn’t even smell and nobody else lived there. When it was too cold or when I slept, I shifted again and curled up, warm enough in my fur. I was still underfed. I could have eaten enough for an army, I was so hungry. But I was scraping by and I was clean and nobody was bothering me. To me, that was still better than what things had been like back in my father’s place. He’d beaten the shit out of me in human form and then tried to challenge me to a fight as a lion. That had been the last straw and I’d taken off.