Alpha Unleashed (23 page)

I dressed as quickly as possible, sparing time for Dastien to redress my cuts with a fresh bandage.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Dastien asked me as I buckled my sandals.

I glanced at Dastien. “Is that an option?”

He gave me one of his trademark Gallic shrugs. “Might as well try. Worst they can do is not let me in the room.”

I went back to the closet, dug out one of his button-downs, and tossed it his way. “Well, then you're coming with me.”

Once he was ready, Dad escorted us to the conference room.

The two FBI agents sat at the opposite side of the table.

They rose together, and I knew they'd probably done this a lot. Except maybe not with werewolves.

“Tessa, these are Special Agents Ramirez and Morgan.”

Ramirez had to be the short Hispanic agent. His navy blue suit hung a little baggy on him, but I could tell he had a reasonably fit body underneath. Not Were-fit, but fit enough. Morgan was a petite blonde. She seemed overly friendly with her megawatt smile, but something told me she wasn't all warm and bubbly.

At least I already knew who was the good cop and who was the bad one?

“I'm sorry, but we only want to question Teresa,” Special Agent Morgan said.

Yup. Not warm or bubbly.

I thought about arguing, but that seemed like a bad idea. Definitely not the first impression I wanted to make.

I'll be right outside, listening in,
Dastien said as he brushed a kiss on my cheek.
You need me, I'll be back. No matter what they want.

Thanks.

Dad nodded. “We'll be right outside. If you need me for any reason, I can come in as counsel.”

“As we told you earlier, your daughter isn't in any trouble.” Agent Morgan placed her folded hands on the table. “There's no reason to worry.”

I tried to take that to heart as I settled down into one of the tall-backed leather chairs. I wheeled myself closer to the table, and sat up straight. My side throbbed at the movement, but Dastien had been right. The wounds were already scabbed over. By tonight, they'd be red marks at most.

“We've talked to some of your fellow pack members.” Ramirez said “pack members” like it was a question. “But we wanted to speak with someone who wasn't born into this world.”

I nodded. I wasn't sure how much they knew, and unless they asked, I figured silence was my best option.

“So what do you think of the werewolves?” Agent Morgan asked.

That was an incredible vague and open-ended question. “They're fine. Some I really like. Some I don't. Just like anywhere else.”

“And the witches?”

Where were they going with this? “The same. There are some here that I really like. Others, not so much.”

“That's pretty honest,” Ramirez said.

That wasn't a question, so I kept my mouth shut.

“Do you like being a wolf?” He asked.

I let out a sigh. “Right now that's like asking if I like being short. It doesn't really matter because that's what I am, but I guess I know what you mean. It was hard at first, but I'm pretty okay with it. Running as a wolf is really freeing. And having enhanced abilities isn't a chore either.”

“So you
can
change?” Morgan said.

“Of course.” I didn't know that was in question.

“But you didn't the night you fought the demon?” Ramirez asked.

“I'm not the best fighter when I'm all furry. I'm more of a help when I fight with magic.”

“That's right. Mr. Dawson mentioned that you were special in that you come from a long line of witches.”

I guessed I didn't mind that he'd told them, but it was a little odd that they'd been discussing me. “Yes. On my mother's side.”

“So the wolves can't use magic?” Ramirez asked.

I thought about it for a second. True, they weren't as good as the witches, but they didn't totally suck at it either. They did their best with their metaphysics classes. “I wouldn't say that they can't do magic entirely. The pack is its own kind of magic. Not the same as what the witches have, but that doesn't mean it doesn't count.”

“I see. And what kind of magic do you practice?” Morgan asked.

I raised an eyebrow. “I don't know. The good kind?” It seemed like an important distinction to make when Luciana was out there.

That got Morgan to smile. “Could a human use the magic that you use?”

Wow. Morgan had been quiet, but now she was blowing my mind with the tough questions. “Honestly, I don't know. I mean, I guess there's got to be a little bit of magic in us all, right?”

“And what about Ms. Alvarez? What are your connections to her?”

I tried to keep a look of disgust off my face. “I have none.”

“Mr. Dawson has told us a little about the grudge that she has with the pack, but we'd love to hear it from your perspective. Why is she really killing people?”

God. If I only knew. “I was asked this at the press conference, and I don't know how much my answer can change. I mean, you must deal with this a lot. People do bad things all the time. Beats me why they do it.” That was part of it. “But if I had to guess, it started out as her being afraid of the pack.”

“So the pack started it?”

“No!” Shit. That's not what I'd meant. “No. Not at all. She's been acting out over the past few years. Some of my friends used to hang out with the coven members our age. But a few years ago, that all changed.”

“How?”

I wasn't sure I should be answering this.

It's okay,
Dastien said through the bond.
Go ahead and tell them. Meredith won't mind. They need to understand how bad Luciana is.

Okay. But if she get's mad, I'm saying you told me to tell.
“Luciana found out her son was hanging out with my friend Meredith. She cast a spell on Meredith that almost killed her. She's okay now. I broke the curse. But ever since then, the pack and coven have been estranged. When Dastien bit me, she took that as a personal affront and an act of war against the coven.”

“Why would she do that?” Ramirez asked as he rested his forearms on the table.

I licked my lips. It was like with every new question, I was digging myself in deeper. At some point, I needed to just shut my mouth. “I was supposed to be the next coven leader.”

“But you told us you had no ties to her?” Morgan asked.

“I don't. I never met her—or knew anything about being the next coven leader until recently.” I paused as I thought about what I should say next. “This is all really complicated, but it boils down to her vendetta. And to be quite honest—I think it's driven her a little mad. Raising demons?” I blew out a breath. “She's crossed into extremely evil territory. Stopping her before she hurts more people is imperative.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?” Ramirez asked.

“Honestly? I have no idea.” Wanting to end this before I spilled any more pack secrets, I leaned forward. My side pinched with the movement, and I ignored it. “Can I ask you a question?”

Special Agent Morgan nodded. “Yes. Of course.”

“What do you want from me?”

“You're very straightforward.” Special Agent Ramirez leaned back in his chair.

I didn't think he did that because he was afraid of me, but I wondered… “It's been a really rough few days—as I'm sure you're aware. My father woke me up from only a few hours of sleep to come talk to you, and I just want to know what's going on. Am I in trouble?”

“No. Not at all. We've talked quite a bit to Mr. Dawson, and we understand what's going on with Ms. Alvarez.”

Okay. Then, what was I doing here? “So, what do you want from me?”

“Basically, we'd like to have you as a point of contact.”

A point of contact? “But I'm just a kid. I'm sure Mr. Dawson or one of the other Alphas would love to be your point of contact.”

“I've given my information to others, but I'd really like to form a relationship with you. You're eighteen. That's an adult in this country. You're part-witch. And, although Mr. Dawson mentioned that you only very recently had contact with any other witches, you managed to save some from Ms. Alvarez. That tells me that I can trust you to do the right thing, even when it's hard.”

I wasn't sure that was true, but I wasn't about to contradict him.

“You're also part-human from your father's side, which means you can understand what the general public is going through right now. Because you were bitten, you—of all the werewolves in this world—have a unique perspective on the supernatural world.”

When he put it that way… “I guess that's all pretty accurate.”

“Good. We wanted to interview you so we can get to know each other. As with any relationship, there needs to be a level of trust. We want you to trust us—to feel okay coming to us—when problems like those with Ms. Alvarez come up. In the interest of starting on good terms, we're going to pretend that your pack didn't break all kinds of laws while covering up a major crime, but next time, we won't. So, let's not have that happen again. If something comes up, we'd appreciate a call.” He made it sound nice, but his voice had a distinct ‘or else' tone to it. He pulled out a business card and scribbled on the back. “That's my cell number. If something happens—especially when non-supernatural people are around—I want a call. No more burning houses to the ground.”

I swallowed. They had a big point. We should have been in big trouble. Not that that had been my idea, but I wasn't about to stick it on Dad. Not to the FBI. “Got it. No more covering up crime scenes.” Shit. Did I just admit to something bad? “Not that I was a part of anything like that.”

Agent Morgan grinned. “We're aware.”

My hands were sweating as she stared me down. “Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure.”

“Which one of you is Mulder and which is Skully? Because you both seem very Mulder-ish with your blind belief in all of this stuff. It took me a while to come to terms with it, and I was a Were. I couldn't ignore it for long when people were shifting in front of me—when my own body wanted to shift. I had to adjust and quickly.”

Agent Morgan's smile broadened, and this time I thought it might be genuine. “Just as you said. No one gets to be skeptical when there's proof in front of you.”

“Right.” I guess that was true, but I'd had issues with it for weeks when I first got to St. Ailbe's. It took me a while to finally give in and let myself shift forms.

“And if we ever have any questions, we want you to be available to us,” Morgan said.

I swallowed. That didn't sound too terrible, but I had a feeling it was going to be more complicated than that. “Okay.” Wait a second. “Don't you need my number?”

Agent Ramirez grinned and it wasn't the nice one that Morgan had given me a second ago. The twinkle in his eye gave him an air of mischief. “We're the FBI, Miss McCaide.”

That was totally creepy.

I took that as my cue to leave, and slid away from the table while the agents leaned in to talk to each other. Dad and Dastien approached me as I closed the door.

“Well,” Dad said. “Is everything okay?”

“I think so.”

“What did they want?” Dad asked.

I held up the business card. “Apparently they wanted a contact. And they wanted to make sure I had their info in case something comes up. Some people—” I coughed to muffle FBI. “—frown on the whole let's-burn-everything-down-before-the-cops-get-here attitude.”

Dad shrugged. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

I snorted. “I still can't believe you showed up with gasoline. It's like I don't even know you.”

“You know me as your dad. There's a whole other side.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Really? Does Mom know about this side of you?”

“You'd be surprised what your mother knows.”

Gross. “You're blowing my mind, Dad. I'm totally telling Axel.”

“Well, there's no need for that.”

I laughed. “There's definitely a need.” Dastien had been awfully quiet.
Was everything okay out here?

Yes. We sorted some stuff out, but it's okay now.

My cheeks heated and I started for the exit. “Now that all this excitement is over, I'm going back to bed. I only got—” I grabbed Dad's wrist and checked the time. “—three hours of sleep. I can't function on that.”

“I thought you might want to go to the lab. Work on the potions.”

I rubbed my eyes. “I probably should.” He had a point. I was already awake. A couple cans of Diet Coke would probably fix me up. At least for a little while. “Okay. I just need to get out of this blouse—” I didn't want to spill something on it. It was the nicest one I owned. “—and then we'll head to the labs.”

“I'm going to check on the agents,” Dad said. “I'll come see you before I go.” He pulled me in for a hug. I ignored the pain in my side and let myself hang onto him for a second before pulling away.

“See you later,” I said.

“Yeah.” He seemed sad as I walked out the door.

“Are you sure something didn't happen while I was in the room?” I asked.

“He realized his daughter was grown up.” Dastien looked over his shoulder. “I think it must be a hard thing.”

I glanced back and Dad was still there in the doorway, watching us. I waved, and he held up his hand in answer.

Funny. I didn't feel grown up. But Dastien was right. Things had changed. Starting the second he bit me.

I was never going to be able to go back home. I'd just realized that sooner than Dad.

Chapter Twenty-One

I was pulling on my favorite pair of comfy jeans when someone started knocking. I jerked, but my side barely twinged. At least my wounds were healing fast. The knock came again. “What's with today?” I couldn't even change in peace.