Doctor Wolf (The Collegium Book 4) (14 page)

One person he didn’t scare off was her grandfather John. “Good girl,” the earl rumbled. “Stand up and tell the truth. Damn ashamed we had a man like that in our pack. Now. Lunch. Fay said something about food in their quarters.”

They were wolves. They’d live in the moment.

The Suzerain’s private quarters were on the top floor of the old fort with doors out to the courtyard roof.

Liz blinked twice as she walked into the living room. The space was familiar, but the décor had totally changed. Grand-mère had preferred a fussy French elegance that gave guests a feeling of entering a salon. Steve and Fay had gone for something more open and relaxed, something younger.

The walls were white, but there was color enough. Large, comfortable wooden furniture gave the space a solid, grounded feel while bright colors in cushions and curtains and new rugs over hardwood floors brought a strong sense of Mediterranean vibrancy.

“Too much?” Fay asked.

Liz hurried to get out of the doorway and let the rest of the family enter. “It’s lovely.”

Fay looked around doubtfully.

Her future sister-in-law’s uncharacteristic uncertainty distracted Liz from the happenings in the court. As significant as they were to Liz, she suddenly guessed that for Fay, the real worries now centered here: this was the first time Fay had hosted Steve’s family.

“I would have cooked something.” Fay peered back into the corridor, towards the elevator, although everyone had climbed the stairs. “Or Steve would have barbequed something. We have a grill set up on the roof, now. But there was no time, so I asked the kitchen at the café downstairs to send something up. And here they are.” Determined brightness. “Thank you, Celeste and Gerald.”

The “something” that the café sent up proved to be burgers: a huge stack of chicken, beef and lamb burgers, with salad falling out of fresh bread rolls. For dessert, a second, refrigerated, trolley held the makings for ice cream sundaes.

The door to Steve and Fay’s private suite closed and if Liz strained her ears, she could just hear the elevator descending.

Steve started laughing.

Fay punched him in the arm.

He laughed harder and hugged her to him. “The kitchen is trying to impress Fay with their ability to cook American food.”

“American diner food,” Fay muttered. “It’s good, but…”

But it wasn’t the sort of food to impress one’s in-laws.

Everyone realized Fay’s worry and rushed into a spate of words to reassure her that the food was delicious. However, it was Carson who saved the moment.

“I haven’t had a decent burger since I left home.” He spoke around a mouthful of beef burger dripping sauce. “Hot damn.”

Fay laughed, and her laughter was only faintly wobbly and self-conscious. “I guess I should trust the café chefs.”

Liz picked up a paper serviette and wiped the sauce dripping from Carson’s square chin.

The room went silent. Wired.

“What?” She looked around to find that her family was carefully not looking in her direction. Although Steve had a suspiciously amused smile going on as he contemplated his burger choice. She glanced up at Carson, belatedly realizing how intimate was her act of catching the sauce before it dripped off his chin. She’d been thinking of saving Fay’s lovely new rug its first stain.

Apparently, her family saw things differently.

They considered her and Carson involved.

Are we?
Brandon had been caught, judged and was about to be delivered to the British justice system. So there was no reason for her and Carson to pretend to be together.

On the other hand, with Daria gone from her house, Liz had no more secrets to hide. If she wanted to be involved with a man, she could be.

If Carson was willing to risk involvement?

He still had his gentians to hide, although they seemed an open secret, now, judging by the attack on Albert’s wards at the greenhouse by the Russian rogue mage. Would Carson risk a relationship? After all, everyone already thought the two of them were involved.

“Here.” Carson shoved a chicken burger into her hands. “Eat.”

She blinked and looked around. Everyone else was a third or more of the way through their burgers. She’d zoned out.

She bit into the burger and found it excellent. The café’s chefs might have aimed at reproducing American diner food, but they’d given it their own spin. The salad was crisp and fresh, and the chicken grilled rather than deep-fried, and lightly flavored with herbs.

Talk was minimal till everyone had eaten, but hunger satisfied and bowls of ice cream sundaes in hand, the respite was over. There were a few loose ends to tie up as everyone wandered out to sit under shade sails on the roof. Alexandria’s port stretched to one side, the sea as blue as the cloudless sky above. On the other three sides, the crowded rooftops of the old and new city jostled one another, oblivious to the fort’s presence. Fay had said once that the spell that hid the fort from mundanes and most magical people was one of the strongest she’d ever encountered, and probably set by Uncle, the djinn, centuries ago.

Sitting above the sunny city, surrounded by family, Steve fixed Liz with an older brother’s stern gaze. “I have a fair idea of who involved you in hiding Daria.”

She looked back at him blandly. Lunch had been a good idea. She felt more herself. More ready to sass.

“I won’t ask you to confirm my suspicions,” Steve continued. “Since obviously you can’t continue to hide victims of crime. You, and your home, aren’t under the radar anymore.”

“Thank goodness,” her dad muttered.

Liz ate one of the raspberries she’d lavished on her scoops of vanilla ice cream and maintained a prudent silence.

“But you can pass on a message to your friend,” Steve said.

She stopped eating. “What message?”

“That we will protect Daria,” her grandfather rumbled. “And we’ll deal with that scum, Brandon’s friend. What’s his name?”

“Thirkell,” Fay supplied.

“How will—on second thoughts, I don’t want to know,” Liz said.

Carson scooted his chair closer to hers, tucking into the shifting shade of the sail. “If a man’s busy protecting himself, he doesn’t have time to worry about revenge.”

Steve nodded.

Life was about to become difficult for Thirkell. Thinking of Daria and her experiences under the man’s control, Liz decided he deserved it. She dug into her sundae.

Carson wasn’t that keen on dessert, so he’d piled his sundae bowl with fruit, chocolate flakes and a dollop of ice cream to be good company. It was obvious that Liz was recovering her usual hopeful, happy resilience surrounded by her family. 

And her family was making it equally obvious, if only by including him in the small lunch gathering, that they liked him for her.

Hell, he liked him for her.

His protective, possessive instincts in the court had shocked him, but not enough for him to fight them and rein them in. He hadn’t wanted any other males, other than family, near her.

Mate-bond.
The idea buzzed in his brain. He and Liz didn’t have one, hadn’t even had sex, but was there a preliminary stage when the potential for a mate-bond surged?

He knew he wanted her near him.

With the sun warm and the company excellent, Carson contemplated his future.

People travelled back to London in small groups, rather than the mass descent of their arrival at the Suzerain’s court.

Liz’s grandfather was the first to leave, finishing his two scoops of ice cream, downing a coffee briskly and squinting towards the sun as it headed for the western horizon. Late afternoon, early evening in Alexandria meant it would be lunchtime in London. “Things to do. Dinner tomorrow night.”

As always Grandfather had an impeccable sense of timing and emotion. Everyone needed a little bit of distance, time to process the happenings of the last intense couple of days. But then, they needed to be together again. Dinner would be at the London house.

Phil and Natalie wandered off to talk with friends they’d seen at court, and probably, to take a sense of the emotional mood among the weres.

Liz’s mom had hooked Fay into a discussion on wedding favors. Liz, conscious of her duties as bridesmaid, joined in. “Mom, do you really think Fay looks like a bride who’d give people pink candy hearts? Really? and as for Steve?” Her brother grinned at her. “Do you really think he reminds people of pink candy hearts?”

“I thought it would soften his image,” Michelle said.

Steve cracked up. The last of the tension that had gripped him through the court session and afterwards vanished.

Michelle winked at Fay.

Oh.
Liz belatedly comprehended. Her mom was giving Fay some on-the-job training of ways to help Steve. Her brother had a great sense of humor, but his sense of responsibility was just as strong. He needed to be able to shed that weight when he was with Fay and family, and sometimes Fay would have to give him a nudge. Wedding favors didn’t matter. What mattered was focusing on positive things, personal things.

“All right, we’ll talk about the wedding back in London,” Michelle said. “I want to go to the souk here before I return. Hosni the silversmith was making me a pair of earrings.”

Liz’s dad rose leisurely, stretching. “I’ll come with you.” Of course he would. David adored the souk and had long-standing friendships with its traders. His Arabic was flawless and idiomatic.

Which left Liz and Carson with Fay and Steve.

“More coffee?” Fay offered.

Everyone declined.

“Actually, I have a couple of things to check on in London,” Carson said. “I should be heading back.”

Liz stood when he did. “Me, too. I’d like to see my house. What needs repairing, cleaning.”

“It’s been done,” Steve said.

“And warded.” Fay grimaced. “I know I should have asked your permission, first.”

“You’re family.” Liz smiled at her. “In our family, you don’t need permission to care. Thank you, Fay.”

“I told you it would be okay,” Steve said.

He stood, and like their dad, stretched.

Liz caught Fay watching him, and the look in her eyes…it was definitely time to go! Liz smiled to herself. “We’ll see you in London. No hurry!”

Her brother pulled her in for a big hug, laughing under his breath. “Dinner tomorrow night.” He grew serious. “But phone me if you want to talk or need anything.”

“I will.”

Steve and Carson shook hands, with Steve saying quietly, “We’ll talk soon.”

Walking down to the portal chamber, the soft scuff of her feet against the worn stone steps of the staircase was a familiar sound. The rhythm of descending the steps was a part of her childhood. She remembered racing up and down the staircase, eager to visit with her grandparents or just as eager to be off again, returning to London and the excitements of her life there.

“I’m lucky,” she said.

“Pardon?” Evidently she’d pulled Carson from his own thoughts. He walked silently beside her, his right shoulder just brushing the wall of the staircase.

“I was thinking out loud, how lucky I am. Privileged life. But more than that. My family. I’ve never doubted their love.”

“It’s obvious. You have strong bonds…to your pack, too.”

Voices rose from the portal chamber. A group of five weres started up the stairs, moving single file. Two nodded to Liz. They were marshals she knew. None stopped.

I hope they’re reporting to Lilith and not Steve
, Liz thought. She didn’t think Steve and Fay would appreciate an interruption.

“Like Central Station, today,” Faroud said of the activity at his portal. Someone shouted to him through it. “Yes, I’m here, send her through.” He stretched his hand into the portal, while still looking at Liz. “I’d hoped to chat with you, but…” An older tiger-were stepped out.

“You’re busy,” Liz finished for Faroud. She smiled politely at the new arrival.

The old woman frowned back. “Portal travel is for fools.”

Faroud rolled his eyes and pointed. “The bathroom is that way.” He lowered his voice as the woman hurried in the direction he indicated. “Portal sick. It affects some people that way. Now, London?”

“Yes,” Carson said. “Please.”

Faroud shouted into the portal, and a minute later, handed them through to Trevor.

“Lunch rush,” the publican said. “And I’m down two waiters. Have to love you and leave you, ducks. You know the way out.” He dashed up a secondary set of stairs, private ones that led to the back rooms.

Liz stared after him, then blankly at Carson.

“Come on,” he said. “I have to check on the gentians, but first we’ll go to your house and see how everything is there.”

“You don’t have to come with me.” She’d really like him to. It was her home, she loved it and she wouldn’t be forced out by bad memories, but having him with her on the first visit would really help.

“Cab or bus?” he asked.

“Bus.” She linked her arm with his. “Thank you.”