Authors: Cindy Spencer Pape
While Fee was chatting with his aunts, a strong hand pulled Greg away from her. He knew better than to cause a scene by protesting, so he found himself in a corner of the room, facing down Sofia Bartok—Peter’s daughter, Katy’s sister and Greg’s former lover.
“What on earth are you thinking to bring an outsider into the pack?” She gripped his arm with nails so sharp he thought her claws had emerged.
“I’m thinking about the woman I…care about.” He’d almost said
love,
but he couldn’t quite do it—the word was rolling around in his mind, but not ready to come out. “And it’s not like the family has never had human blood before.” Greg’s mother had been one-quarter human. “The old man will get over it.”
“But you were supposed to marry
me.
”
Greg’s jaw dropped and he stared at Sofia’s face. She was stunning, with long dark blond hair and clear blue eyes—even in wolf form they were blue. Though she was beautiful in either shape, looking at her did nothing to heat Greg’s blood—not the way even thinking about Fee did. In fact, she didn’t even smell appealing anymore. Though again, compared to Fee, nobody did. Sofia was also entirely serious. Her delicate features twisted with fury and the scent of her anger was like vinegar in his nostrils.
He took a step backward, hating to hurt her, but he couldn’t lead her on, either. “Sof, we broke up years ago. You admitted at the time that we weren’t right together.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and he could have sworn he saw a hint of fang. “I
thought
you simply had issues with my modeling career. Now that I’m thirty-five and retired, I’d assumed you’d be over your hang-ups and ready to settle down.”
“It had nothing to do with your job. We’re not compatible. Can’t we leave it at that and be friends, please?” The center of his back itched at the venom in her glare.
“Oh, we’ll be friends, Greg. Very, very close friends.” She eased them back into the group around Fee, refusing to let go of his sleeve. She’d pasted a smile back on her face, and even gotten her scent under control.
Even so, George gave Greg a worried look when he saw them together. Greg shrugged and eased his way out of her grip toward the bar after a quick introduction. “Fee, honey, what can I get you to drink?”
“Just sparkling water, please.” She looked down her nose at Sofia before turning back to her conversation with Katy and Jase.
Greg filled a big goblet with French sparkling water, added a lime wedge and poured himself a double vodka. For all his faults, the old man kept a well-stocked liquor cabinet and seemed to have remembered Greg’s favorite brand.
Drinks in hand, Greg returned to Fianna’s side and handed over her glass. “Not drinking?” he murmured in her ear.
She gave her head a miniscule shake. “No. Not until we’re…sure.” Her voice was pitched so low he could barely hear her, meaning even the other wolves wouldn’t be able to.
Fuck.
He took a huge gulp of his vodka. He hadn’t even thought about that.
Fianna sipped her water and continued to take stock of the crowd. Greg’s sister and brother-in-law were delightful, as were Derek and Lana’s parents. Greg’s grandmother was kinder than Fianna had expected. The rest, though…She repressed a shudder. There was little doubt that some of the older men wouldn’t mind if she were dead. Both of the betas had been glaring daggers at her since she’d walked through the door. As for Sofia—well, that bitch would certainly stab her in the back given half a chance. No matter. Fianna had dealt with worse at the Seelie Court. She turned her attention back to Katy.
“So Kevin and Delaney held the hose, and they made Tessa knock on the door, then run. When I answered the door,
whoosh,
instant shower—and I was all dressed up to go to lunch with my mother-in-law.”
Kevin was the six-year-old, Delaney four and Tessa three. Fianna tried to picture what would have happened if she’d ever tried to be that mischievous. Most likely, she’d have been whipped and locked in a cell for a week.
“So what could I do?” Katy chuckled. “I
had
to punish them, but I was laughing almost as hard as they were. Right then my in-laws drove up, so I told them that since they wanted to play with the hose, they could help Gramps wash his big, shiny Cadillac. I think they all had a blast to tell you the truth. My father-in-law is a gem, just like his son.”
Her husband blushed to the roots of his ash-brown hair. Their obvious adoration of each other was remarkable.
Some people had all the luck.
Not that she could complain. She was alive and at least sort-of engaged to Greg. That was so much better than her life could have, by all rights should have been.
But what wouldn’t she give to have him look at her like Derek looked at Katy?
The meal was a tense and tedious affair. Fianna couldn’t eat much. The constant scrutiny destroyed her appetite. The rich, heavily sauced and meat-based menu didn’t help. The Fae diet was primarily vegetarian, with meat or fowl only as an occasional counterpoint. Compared to the usual human diet, elven fare was also rather bland. While she’d been learning to enjoy the more complex seasonings found in the human realm, tonight they turned her stomach.
Or perhaps it was the sight of Sofia Bartok at the other end of the table. Interesting that she’d been seated next to Greg, while Fianna was stuck between Ivan and his henchman Maurice. Something about that wolf gave her the chills. How far would he go if it came to making his Prime happy? Should she watch her back?
Definitely, when it came to Sofia. Fianna didn’t suffer from false modesty—she knew her tall, thin frame and platinum hair were considered lovely by human standards, or at least the fashion industry. But in real life most men seemed to prefer a fuller figure, like Sofia’s. Though the woman had apparently been a fashion model, her curves were much more generous than Fianna’s and shown off in a form-fitting gown of chocolate-brown silk. The artful streaks in her golden blond hair had to have cost a fortune if they weren’t natural, and her big sky-blue eyes were framed by thick dark lashes. She was a few inches shorter than Fianna but more than made up for the difference in sheer presence.
“So we’re in Brazil for this swimsuit shoot and, of course it’s freezing that day, so we’re all jumping around to stay warm between shots. I totally didn’t mean to bounce out of the top of my suit, but the photographer loved it—and so did the magazine. They couldn’t put it on the cover of course, but they did use it as the centerpiece, and I made the cover in that sheer lace sarong over the gold bikini.”
Fianna swallowed hard and glanced at Katy who glared daggers at Sofia. “So your oldest is in school now, right? Is he enjoying it?”
“Not really. Kevin isn’t much for being told what to do.” Katy grimaced, but her eyes twinkled. “He is
such
a future alpha. He does like being around other kids his own age more. There are only a few in our neighborhood, so he enjoys having a wider social circle. And he’s in first grade but reads at a third-grade level, so we know he can do the work.”
“That’s wonderful.” Fianna did her best to tune out the rest of the conversation. “And your girls are too young for school, yes?”
Katy nodded. “They go to preschool three afternoons a week. It gives them a chance to play with other kids, and I get some alone time with just the baby. Jack’s a handful, but when he goes down for a nap, I actually get an hour or so of peace and quiet—it’s wonderful.”
“So, Miss Meadows, I imagine serving drinks is a bit of a comedown after being Aidan Greene’s private secretary.” Ivan raised one bushy gray eyebrow.
Fee smiled briefly. “It’s a change, certainly. It took some time to adjust, but I can’t complain about the people I work with, although Aidan was and remains a dear friend.”
“Even after you betrayed him?” Maurice snorted. “Right.”
Fianna ignored the hireling and faced the Prime alpha. “I’m sure you’re well aware of the situation. If you’re not, you might wish to ask your grandson, or Aidan Greene, for an explanation. I regret that I took family loyalty to the extreme. A good man was killed because I believed my uncle when he told me no one would be hurt. I can’t undo that, but I can accept my punishment, learn from it and move on.” She allowed a small smile to play about her lips as she looked across and down the table at Greg. “And I must say, the supposed punishment has turned out to be a blessing.”
That shut them up for a few moments, during which Fianna managed to eat several bites of her salad of field greens with figs and goat cheese. She’d have to remember to try that recipe at home when she might be able to enjoy it.
“So how old
are
you, Fianna?” Sofia called out, a catty smile on her full lips. “Are you enjoying your younger man?”
“I was born in 1918.” She refused to allow any emotion to cross her face. “But I believe I will age from this point on as if I were in my early twenties now. Greg doesn’t seem to mind, do you, darling?”
If she hadn’t been watching him, she’d have missed the tiny beat as he took in her endearment and processed it. He gave her a wink and a broad smile. “Not a bit, princess. I’m happy with you just the way you are.” He blew her a kiss.
Maurice hissed. Sofia’s eyes narrowed after she shot another killer glance at Fianna.
Fianna returned the air kiss, and devoured a third of her steak.
When the meal ended, Marja approached Fianna and Greg as they sat on a plush sofa in the mansion’s living room, chatting with his siblings and their mates.
“Fianna, I wondered if you’d like to borrow my wedding veil for your mating ceremony, since you probably don’t have any heirlooms of your own.”
The idea held no appeal, but Fianna smiled. “What a generous offer. Greg and I haven’t decided anything about our wedding, including how formal it’s going to be, but I’ll certainly keep it in mind.”
“Thank you.” Marja laid a hand on Fianna’s shoulder. “Why don’t you come have a look—I had it aired out today so you could see it.”
Fianna looked at Greg, who shrugged. Seeing no way out, Fianna got to her feet.
“Can I come with? I might want to use it someday for my own wedding,” Lana piped up.
Marja quirked one perfectly arched eyebrow, clearly not believing Lana for a moment. “Next time. I’d like a moment with my new granddaughter alone if you don’t mind.”
Fianna swallowed her trepidation and allowed the older woman to lead her from the room.
“You handled yourself well tonight,” Marja said as they climbed the sweeping grand staircase that dominated the enormous foyer. “I’m sorry if some of our pack were less than tactful.”
“I understand.” So this was not to be a further inquisition. Fianna let her shoulders ease just a little.
At the top of the stairs, they crossed the wide gallery and entered a sitting room through open double doors. Marja carefully closed the doors behind them. “In fact, your behavior was so unexceptionable that I almost regret having to do this.”
“Do what?” Fianna stepped back until she felt a paneled wall against her bare shoulder. At least now an attack couldn’t come from behind.
A connecting door opened and Ivan stepped through, carrying a briefcase. “This.” He held up the case. “Inside is one million dollars, cash. End your engagement to my grandson, find another place to work, and it’s yours.”
Fianna looked from one to the other, taking in the deadly serious expressions on their faces.
She began to laugh.
Greg hated that he didn’t trust his grandparents but, there it was. He didn’t trust his grandparents. A few moments after Marja led Fee from the room he set down his drink, told George what he was doing and slipped up the back stairs. His ear to the door of his grandparents’ suite, he heard Ivan’s offer, and then the beautiful ring of Fee’s laughter.
He could picture her wiping her eyes—extended laughter always made her cry.
“Money? Oh that’s too precious for words. My sponsor in this world is Aidan Greene, otherwise know as Lord Green Oak. If I wanted money, all I’d have to do is ask. I
chose
to accept my punishment as given and live on only what I could earn.”
“But when you marry our grandson, you’ll be a rich woman,” Ivan said in his “reasonable” voice. “Despite his clothes, where he lives and that sorry excuse for a truck, he’s quite wealthy in his own right. We simply want to make sure you have alternatives.”
“You don’t understand him at all, do you?” Her voice held pity rather than anger. “Your grandson would be worth more than you have in that briefcase if he didn’t own a penny. He lives the way he does because it’s comfortable for him. I’d never ask him to change that. I’m marrying the man he
is
not the man he might be.”
Greg’s heart swelled with pride and affection. She really was one in a million. He knocked on the door. “Fee? Honey, if you’re done in there, we need to get going. I’m supposed to meet with Des tonight.”
Ivan snorted. “Damn
Wyndewin.
” He glared at Fianna. “I guess this is good evening, Miss Meadows. With luck, it’s goodbye.”
“Good night.” Her voice softened. “Though for Greg’s sake, I hope it’s not goodbye. It would be cruel of you to make him choose. And you wouldn’t care for the outcome.”
Greg opened the door as soon as he heard her footsteps crossing the carpet. Right there in front of his grandparents, he planted a smacking kiss on her lips. He looped his arm around her shoulders and led her down the steps. “Come on, I’m supposed to meet Des in an hour.”
“That’s okay. I decided the veil wouldn’t suit me anyway.” She paused at the base of the stairs and looked up into his eyes, her smile bright. “I’m ready to go home.”
Greg waited in his office for Des to arrive. Since he was going out, he’d added a couple extra guards, who would patrol the first floor, covering the entrances and stairways. Fee and Lana, who’d both at first demanded to come along, were tucked upstairs. After grousing about getting no feedback from her hacker friends about Beowulf or Nightshade, Lana mentioned something about showing Fee websites for wedding dresses, which was fine with him. While making love to Fee might have been a mistake, he’d decided to put his doubts behind him. After the way she’d stood up to his grandparents, it was full steam ahead.
Being back at pack headquarters had also let him see how unsettled everything was in the region. Like it or not, Greg did have a responsibility not only to his own small pack, but to the rest of the wolves in the area, as well. His grandfather wasn’t going to live forever, and this was a bad time for instability within the pack leadership. One way or another, he and the old man were going to have to mend fences, and that meant it was time for Greg to settle down.
Seeing Sofia again had helped clarify that for him, as well. He wanted Fianna, not any other werewolf to help guide the pack. She’d stand beside him and back him, not try to push him aside or push him around. He was still reeling from her fierce defense, but despite the strength of her spirit, he knew she’d never try to push her own interests ahead of the pack. In short, he trusted her—with his pack, with his children—hell maybe even with his heart.
While he waited, he sulked. Here he was, headed out into the cold with the damn mage, when all he really wanted to do was peel Fee out of her satin gown and fuck her blind. Preferably with the high heels still on.
A knock at the back door interrupted that train of thought before it could go too far. The guard let Des in, and Greg heard booted footsteps heading down the stairs.
“Ready?” Des smirked as he held up a collar and leash. “Hope you don’t mind black.”
Greg snorted. “Hope you don’t mind black eyes if you keep this up.”
“You’re in a good mood for someone who just got engaged.” The mage leaned against the doorjamb. “Bring your clothes with us. I want you to talk to someone after we sniff out the crime scene.”
“Got it.” Greg stripped, not caring that Des was in the room flipping through a magazine someone had left in the office. He stuffed his clothes and sneakers into a plastic grocery bag and left it on his desk. “As for my mood, you met my grandfather last night. Imagine how much fun it was taking Fee to meet the whole damn clan.”
“Cry me a river.” Des picked up the grocery sack while Greg focused his mind inward and allowed himself to change.
Bones and muscles shifted and reshaped themselves. It hurt, but it brought a rush at the same time. His skull elongated and his fangs and claws emerged even as his senses sharpened. Moments later he was fully wolf, standing as tall as his desk while Des clipped the leash and collar around his neck. “Gods, I wish I had a camera.”
All Greg could do was growl.
“Don’t piss in my car, furball.” With that, Des led the way up the stairs and out to the street, where he’d left his flashy sedan with the guards nearby. A couple of them smiled and saluted as Greg walked past. He stared straight ahead, choosing to ignore them. When Des tried to open the back door of his car, Greg growled, until Des gave in and let him in the front. Greg sat on the passenger seat as Des joined him in the car.
Twenty minutes later, they emerged onto a quiet residential street. A block of townhouse apartments filled most of the area, with the entrance around the corner from where they’d parked.
“Try to act like a real dog.” Des opened the door and let Greg out before picking up the leash. “And don’t eat anybody.”
Greg considered lifting his leg on the other man’s shoes but decided against it. Instead, he started sniffing the air, trying to pick up the baseline scents of the neighborhood. Mostly human with a strong stench of residual smoke coming from the townhouses. If he thought too hard about that, about the families that had been killed, the odor would make him vomit as he got closer. He forced himself to stop thinking and get the job done. With a nod, he tugged on the leash, letting Des know he was ready to go.
The closer they got, the thicker and oilier the acrid scent of the smoke became. He picked up trails of the various inhabitants of the complex. Mostly human out here toward the street, then intermingled with lupine as they walked deeper into the complex. In the very back, one unit had apparently housed the pack. The blackened ruin was roped off with yellow tape, but there were no police left on the scene. Greg tugged Des behind a nearby building and waited until the mage had removed the leash. Des also cast a spell, one Greg had heard him use before, to keep anyone from noticing their presence. Together, they crept toward the burned-out building.
Greg got to work, sniffing and tracking the various scent trails. He could detect the continuous presence of a good-sized, closely related pack. Along the curb, he found what he’d been looking for. An unrelated wolf had stood in this spot and paused, more than once. Two trails ran around the building, one a few nights old, one more recent. Both were too trampled by the human firemen and police to be clear enough to identify the wolf. Some other, vaguely bleachlike, chemical taint kept him from even being able to tell if the scent was male or female.
“I’ve got two things,” he said as he climbed back in the car after shifting and pulling on his pants behind a tall hedge near where they’d parked. “There was definitely a wolf involved, but the scent is distorted with some kind of chemical. It wasn’t a drive-by. Whoever killed that pack planned it out and took their time about it.” Greg couldn’t wait to get that murderous wolf’s throat between his jaws.
By the time they reached the bridge to Belle Isle, Greg was completely dressed and still pissed.
“I want you to meet Luther, petty dope dealer and all around low-life. He’s got just enough mage in his family tree to know we exist, not enough to pull off more than cheap card tricks.” Des zipped through the darkened streets faster than would have been safe for someone without highly developed reflexes, magic—or both.
Greg would lay odds there was a spell on the car to make the cops ignore it. He wondered briefly if he could talk the mage into casting one on his pickup. “Is this the same guy you and Ric talked to last night?”
Des nodded.
“So why do I need to join the party?” Ric had been an agent of the Seelie queen for something like six hundred years. Des was an active member of the paranormal cops. Why the hell did they need Greg’s input?
Des shrugged. “He has info on the drugs that are targeting paranormals. There was something funny about the scent of what he showed us, something we thought you might be able to narrow down.”
Greg grunted and tied his shoes.
Des pulled the car into a shadowed space in a deserted parking lot behind the fake African huts of the old zoo. Belle Isle, a long narrow spit in the Detroit River, used to be a vibrant urban park, but now it was mostly run-down and abandoned, with only a few of the once-stately buildings still in use. The wild part of the islet encroached steadily on the formerly manicured lawns and walkways of the old aquarium and yacht club. A shabby beach still provided some recreation for local residents, along with a couple of playgrounds. There were efforts in place to revive the islet, but right now it was still a damn good place to hide.
Greg followed Des onto one of the old, overgrown footpaths, deeper into the shadows. About a hundred yards in, a shape detached itself from the surrounding darkness and stepped onto the path.
“This the wolf you talked about?” He didn’t move close enough for even a lupine to make out his features, but his scent was clear. A minor drug user, but nothing serious. He mainly smelled of weed and cheap beer, though his clothes carried the stench of stronger stuff which must have passed through his hands in the recent past. Over it all was a vinegary tang mingled with the odor of unwashed human and a faint whiff of chlorine. “He don’ look like nothin’ much.”
Greg snarled, extending a hint of fang. He angled his face to catch a glint of moonlight. “Satisfied?”
“Sure.” Luther took a few steps closer. “You got the money, wizard-man?”
“Give the wolf the package you showed me, and you get your cash.” Des pulled two bills from his front pants pocket. “Two hundred, as promised.”
Luther snatched the cash and shoved a plastic bag at Greg so fast it was a blur. “Keep that shit away from me—I don’t ever want to see it again.”
“Tell us again how you got it.” Des’s tone held a hint of command, maybe even a spell to freeze the dealer in place until he answered.
“This junkie I know traded it for his weekly crack fix. Said he got it off some bigwig down by Cadillac Place, was worth at least a grand. So I figured, what the hell and tried some. Just one little crystal, under the tongue, like he said. Was high as a kite for about an hour.” He grinned as if remembering absolute euphoria. “Only problem was afterward I thought I was dead. Sick as a dog for almost a week.”
That would account for the acidic tang to the man’s scent. Greg sniffed the bag of tiny crystals—about the same size as the sea salt he kept in the kitchen. The bag smelled of salt, too, along with something metallic, vinegar, bleach and something else that was somehow…off.
Des released his hold on the informant. “Okay, Luther, you can go now. And from now on, steer clear of trying your own shit. You’ve got just enough supernatural in you to make it dangerous.”
Luther took off into the woods at a run.
“I’ve never smelled anything like it,” Greg said. “I mean anything. It’s almost unearthly.”
“Demon. That’s what I thought. There’s some twisted magic involved, along with the chemistry. That’s where Nightshade comes into this. He’s the producer and distributor.”
Greg nodded. They’d known the demon Nightshade was tied up in this mess somehow.
After a long bubble bath, Fianna curled up on her sofa in a pair of fleece yoga pants and an oversized New Moon sweatshirt while she brushed her hair out of its updo. She and Lana had talked for almost an hour, mostly rehashing the evening, especially Ivan and Marja’s attempt to buy Fianna off. Lana had been furious and her instant defense had touched Fianna deeply. So why had that made her cry?
Human emotions were exhausting. Eventually, she’d convinced Lana that all she needed was some sleep. She’d gotten little the night before, and between the near miss in the alley and meeting Greg’s family, it had been a long day. Now that she was alone though, the turmoil of her thoughts made sleep impossible. Maybe she should get a cat. Silent, nonjudgmental companionship would be nice right about now.
A laugh escaped her throat. A cat in a building full of werewolves. That probably wouldn’t work, though she’d have to ask Greg. Maybe he could tolerate a dog, something small that would sit in her lap and cuddle, and not fight him for dominance.
From one moment to the next, for no reason she could explain, Fianna’s heart started pounding. This anxiety had nothing to do with Greg, but with basic fight-or-flight survival. Perhaps some vestige of her old magic was still there, bred into her bones, but she reacted without thinking, springing from the sofa and diving out of the living room. The place was small, so it was only a few feet to the hallway from where she sat.
Less than a heartbeat after she landed on the floor between the bathroom and a hall closet, she heard glass crack and something smack into the sofa. Another projectile barely missed her heels as she rolled.
Bullets. Gods damn it, this time someone was shooting at her.
Beowulf?
Thoughts of the werewolf-assassin flashed through her mind.
One more thudded into the wall opposite her, so she crawled deeper into the hallway, breathing heavily. Was she safe here? There were no windows to illuminate her position, but on TV the bad guys had heat sensors, didn’t they? And guns that could shoot through walls?
Forget learning to drive. The first thing she needed was a gun.
Of course, even if she’d had one, she didn’t have the equipment to sight down on someone who had to be firing from somewhere in the building next door. The good news was that Lana’s apartment was on the far side of the building. A sniper wouldn’t be able to reach Lana from the same vantage point. Still, Fianna should call her, warn her not to come running, in case she’d heard the glass breaking. The only problem was that her cell phone was in her evening bag, which she’d tossed onto her bed. Of course, what she really wanted to do was call Greg, but he wasn’t here to help, so calling him would serve no purpose. Fianna had spent a good part of the last hour listening for his footsteps on the stairs. Besides, she kept saying she was an adult. She couldn’t go crying to him at the first sign of danger.
Warning Lana, though, that was important. Fianna snaked one arm out and edged the bathroom door shut, cutting off the hallway from any windows—even though she’d had the blinds down in there for her bubble bath. Leaving the living room curtains open so she could see the city lights while she sat on the couch and thought tonight hadn’t been the best idea. At least in the bedroom she’d closed the heavy drapes when she’d changed, so she wouldn’t be clearly visible.
Still crawling along the floor, she crept into her bedroom and behind the bed, putting another barrier between herself and the outside wall. A shot shattered the bedroom window and ripped through the curtains as she reached up to grab her purse, but the bullet missed her arm and struck the mattress. Keeping the bed between her body and the window, Fianna backed up until she had her back to her closet. Deciding it was better to err on the side of safety, she slid the mirrored door open and backed all the way into the closet as well, closing the door behind her. Maybe the reflective surface would mess up whatever gadgets were being used for targeting.
Her fingers shook as she dialed Lana’s number.
“Hey, Fee, what’s up? I just opened a carton of Mackinac Island Fudge ice cream, if you want to come over.” Loud rock and roll blared over the connection. No wonder Lana hadn’t heard the shots and come running.