Authors: Sierra Dean
Cash got to his feet as the paramedics arrived. I was grateful to the sheriff for his decision to plan for the worst, even though the worst ended up with him dead.
The crew gently moved me aside, replacing my hand with a big gauze pad. I waited as long as I could before letting go of his hand. When they pulled him away, my heart sank, not knowing if it would be the last time I’d see him alive.
Another paramedic wrapped me in a blanket and led me outside. The parking lot was swarming with police cars, not all of which had the Franklinton Sheriff’s Department logo. Josie was talking to a female plainclothes officer, and I was taken to an ambulance before I could talk to her.
I wanted to thank her. To let her know, somehow, that what she’d done was worth it. The paramedics were having none of it. They sat me in the back of an empty ambulance and checked me for injuries and signs of shock. I barely noticed them. Cash and Matt were talking to officers next to a big police van, and two body bags were wheeled out one after the other.
At least it’s not three
.
“There’s a fur…rug inside. I need it,” I announced, trying to get to my feet.
“We’ll get her,” a male paramedic assured me. When I blinked at him in confusion, he blushed. “The videos are everywhere. That one… The one with all the things he had?” He shook his head. “I’m sorry for your loss. I wish we’d all known right away where you were.”
I nodded dumbly. I guess I hadn’t made that clear initially.
“Is my friend going to be okay?”
The two paramedics taking care of me exchanged uneasy looks. “It’s hard to say. But his accelerated healing gives him a better chance.”
I stared at the church again, wishing I could burn the whole place to the ground. I was grateful my body was too weak and too tired to make that wish a reality.
“You need to send someone to the rural road near the turn for Folsom. There’s a family there. You’ll need police.”
Probably a whole team of therapists
. “Someone needs to help them.”
They waved over a cop, who took my directions, nodding vigorously no matter what I said. “We’ll take care of it. You rest, y’hear?”
There was no chance of me sleeping again for a very long time.
I thought about Callum’s voice and about my home. I thought about Wilder and his willingness to sacrifice his life for my stupid plan. I put my face in my hands and cried until my eyelids felt like sandpaper and I’d scared everyone around me into leaving.
I’d wanted so badly to prove I could help by coming here.
All I’d done was get people killed.
Some queen I was shaping up to be.
Light fell across my eyes and I squinted, pulling my duvet up to cover my face. It was too warm to be using a heavy down-filled comforter, but I liked the way it made me feel like I was being cuddled. It literally comforted me.
Bacon, however, was a siren song I couldn’t resist.
I pushed back the covers, blinking away the sun, and fumbled with my toes for my slippers. Warm sunlight was painted across the floor, my balcony doors fully open to let in the fresh morning air. The world smelled clean and bright, and the birds outside wouldn’t shut up about the perfect day coming.
With a lightweight kimono wrapped over my cotton nightgown, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. Lina had an industrial-size grill out and was frying about seventeen pounds of bacon on it. Three cartons of eggs were stacked next to the grill, waiting their turn.
“Morning, lovey.” Lina smiled, dumping a dozen strips of bacon onto a tray covered in paper towels.
I went to grab one, but she whacked me with her spatula. Hard.
“Ow.” I yanked back my hand and gave her a pouty expression.
“You get nothing until you go talk to your uncle. Some stunt, leaving that note with me, you sneaky pup. You’re just lucky all that stomping and snarling doesn’t scare me.” She smiled again, loading more tempting bacon onto the grill.
My stomach rumbled loud enough to make her laugh.
“You’ve been home for three days, Genie-Belle. You can’t just keep hiding in your room and coming down here to sneak food from me. At some point you need to bite the bullet and go talk to him.”
She was right. I’d been wandering around the house like a ghost, entering rooms only after I knew Callum wasn’t in them. Magnolia, ignoring the possible wrath of her king, had driven me to Baton Rouge three days earlier so I could sit by Wilder’s bedside after he went through surgery to remove the bullet from his stomach. He was lucky to have his werewolf healing, as the paramedics had told me. If not for the speedy recovery time, the doctors said he would have died.
The next day he was moved to a werewolf-only medical compound at the request of Callum’s lawyers, and I was no longer allowed to go see him. I’m not sure if that was the rule or if Callum was punishing me.
Ever since, I’d been lurking like a memory, moving around in shadow and only surfacing to eat. Now I was being denied bacon, and it looked like I was going to need to put on my big-girl panties and talk to my uncle.
But first: pants.
Fully dressed, wearing my Tulane hoodie like a suit of armor, I tapped lightly on Callum’s door. Maybe he was out, or he wouldn’t hear me. There was still a chance I might be able to—
“Come in, Eugenia.”
So much for running away.
I slunk into his office, head bowed, and immediately curled myself into one of the armchairs facing his desk. I kept my gaze locked on the carpet, my shoulders stooped. If I had a tail right now, it would be between my legs.
This was how we apologized. I was trying to show him I respected his authority and was willing to yield to him.
A bit late, now.
When he didn’t speak right away, I lifted my eyes and stared at him instead of the carpet.
Callum’s neck and ears were flushed red, his salt-and-pepper hair looking more unkempt than usual, a small growth of stubble on his chin. Where he was holding the desk, his hands were shaking slightly.
I swallowed hard.
This wasn’t going to go well.
“We have a dead church leader. A pack member in the hospital. A dead human woman, and the site of a massacre. Does that about sum things up?” he asked.
I nodded.
Don’t say anything. Just agree with whatever he says
.
“To top it off, I almost lost my niece because she decided to put her life in danger with some cockamamie scheme to expose a murderer. When I explicitly told her to stay out of danger.”
The carpet became interesting to me again.
“
What am I supposed to do with you, Genie?
” The roar took me by surprise. He smashed his fists into the desk, the wood groaning loudly. My first instinct was to run for the door. “I try to protect you and you
defy my protection
. I try to give you freedom, and you use it to push yourself away from us.”
“I wasn’t trying to push myself away,” I argued. “I was trying to help.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Trying to help?
Trying to help?
How does it help me if you’re dead? How do I tell my pack I can protect them if I can’t even protect my own heir? Do you have any idea how difficult this has made our lives? I can’t turn on the TV without seeing news about werewolves. Seeing your face on magazine covers. What am I supposed to do with you?” he demanded again.
If he was expecting me to suggest my own punishment, he was shit out of luck.
“
Look at me.
” He pounded the desk again.
I lifted my chin hesitantly. Now his whole face was red, and his body trembled with barely contained rage. But there was something else there, something I hadn’t expected to see on my uncle’s face.
Fear.
I blinked in surprise, sure I had to be imagining it.
“What would I have done if something had happened to you, Genie?” His voice softened somewhat, and he was holding the edge of the desk again. “What you did was stupid. It was stupid, foolhardy, dangerous and reckless beyond measure.”
I nodded, my heart racing.
“You risked your life to save a pack member. One who has been nothing but vile to you, and who once aided in a coup that almost killed your sister.”
“I didn’t try to save Hank because I like him.”
“So why? Because of Wilder?”
I shook my head. I liked Wilder. A lot. But my attraction to him and the connection we shared had nothing to do with my actions in Franklinton. “Pack is deeper than caring. Deeper than family or blood. You told us Hank was pack, and I had to protect the pack.”
What I’d done, facing off against Deerling, went so much far beyond merely protecting the pack. But I think Callum knew that.
“You would have died to save one wolf you don’t even like.”
“I would have died to save a thousand wolves I’ve never even met,” I replied.
We stared at each other for a long time, and for once I didn’t feel cowed by him. I didn’t
want
to look away.
“I am so proud of you it makes my heart hurt,” he said at last.
This wasn’t the response I’d expected. I was stunned into silence by my surprise.
Callum continued, “This week you proved to me, more than any wolf ever has, where your loyalties lie, Eugenia.”
“But I defied you.” Perhaps I shouldn’t be correcting him when he seemed so burdened with goodwill, but sometimes I couldn’t help myself, the wrong thing had to be said.
He smiled slightly. “You demonstrated leadership. You’ve shown me you have what it takes to
be
my heir, in more than just name.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting him to say, but that sure wasn’t it. I’d come in anticipating I’d be grounded or locked under house arrest. I thought he’d make me withdraw from school and send me to live with a pack in Alaska until I learned to behave. This conversation wasn’t at all what I’d been anticipating.
As if he’d read my mind, he added, “You need more responsibility, not less. I think this has demonstrated that your skills are rough. They need to be honed.”
“Okay?” I wasn’t sure what he was leading to. I kept waiting for this to be a giant buildup, and then for the punch line he would tell me his plans to banish me forever.
“As you know, the New Orleans territory is small. Not a proper pack, more of a prefecture.”
I knew this all too well because the city was under his thumb. I didn’t have to report to any other Alphas there, which was part of the reason Callum allowed me to live near the school.
“Yes.”
“It’s yours now.”
“Wh-what?”
“The city pack. A dozen wolves, including yourself. You are the Alpha now.”
“But…Ben…” What was I doing? Hadn’t I wanted to prove to him I was ready for a responsibility exactly like this? Now he was handing it to me on a silver platter and I was what…saying no? “Thank you.”
“You’ll need to start small. I think this is a good way for you to learn the politics of being a leader.”
So my brother learned at the side of the master, but I was being tossed into the deep end to teach myself on the fly. The idea exhilarated me. His trust made me feel buoyant and giddy. The responsibility was terrifying, but a giant grin was plastered to my face, and I couldn’t will it away.
“Thank you,” I repeated.
“Now get out of here. I’m very busy and important.”
I was already halfway to the kitchen before I realized he had just quoted
Love, Actually
.
Once I’d started laughing, I only stopped for bacon.
My house smelled like stale too-hot air when I unlocked the front door and pushed aside the small mountain of mail. It had the stagnant feel of an abandoned place, like no one had lived here in ages.
I’d been gone two weeks, but it was long enough for my plants to all be dead. I locked the door behind me, checking and rechecking the deadbolt. When I felt certain no one could follow me in, I moved from room to room, opening all the blinds to let the light of day in.
Dust motes caught in the light, and everywhere I looked the sun illuminated some new thing I would need to clean. It wasn’t that the place was dirty—it was as tidy as it had been since I left—but a thin layer of dust and neglect coated everything.
I unpacked my bag, doing my best not to acknowledge all the extra space in my closet and drawers. There were no suits or dress shirts here anymore, no men’s runners at the back door. Only one toothbrush rested in the cup near the sink.
Cash had managed to artfully remove his presence from the house, like he’d never been here. I was the only person who would notice the gaps and lapses, the places where his things had been and now nothing remained.
I wasn’t
sad
exactly, more melancholy.
Having him here was like having a trophy I could show people.
Look, look at my beautiful, intelligent, human boyfriend. Don’t you see how normal my life is?
Except no one would believe that anymore. Normal wasn’t even a shadow of a memory these days.
There’d been a brief period, while I was still out with my uncle, where Cash and I pretended things could go back to normal. But the truth of the matter was, I’d changed, and I think he knew it. It wasn’t about Wilder, it was that I wasn’t the same girl he’d started dating a year ago.
And that was a good thing.
What started as
maybe we should take a break
ended with him getting all his things. And with him gone, I was hard-pressed to remember how I’d fit him here in the first place.
I’d been able to hide from most of the drama in St. Francisville, but now that I was back in New Orleans, the fallout was everywhere.
Two weeks had passed since the dramatic events at the Church of Morning left two people dead and the whole world stunned by the horrors committed by Timothy Deerling. His name was synonymous with other murderous cult leaders, with doomsday preppers and serial killers. He was the fodder for late-night monologue jokes, and had spawned the hashtag #deerlinghunter on Twitter where people went on at great lengths about either how crazy he was or how right he’d been.