Then remembering the other woman in his life who had died, she added, “And I can’t tell you how sad I was to hear about Ursula going home when she was only fifty. But I know your sister must have been so proud of you. I’m proud of you, too. You’ve done so good for yourself. Better than good. You made all your dreams come true.”
“You are proud of me,” he repeated, each word hitting the air like a bullet.
As if she’d just spent the last few minutes hurling insults at him instead of compliments on all his achievements.
“Because of my billions. And my wrestling promotion company. And my daughter, whose mother was named the most beautiful woman in the world. Twice. You are impressed by all these numbers. They make you think what you did matters not. But I have another number for you, Wolf Girl. Thirty. That is how long I waited for you at that diner.”
She blinked, irritation starting to creep in, “You’re still upset because of thirty minutes? I was out in your office for over an hour, and I didn’t say boo about that.”
He shook his head, his lips curling downward. “Not minutes.”
“Hours?” she guessed then, her breath catching at the thought of him staying in that all-night diner, waiting for her for over a day.
He shook his head. “No, of course not hours.”
She exhaled then, so relieved.
But before the breath was all the way out, he informed her, “Days, Wilma. I waited thirty days for you to come to that diner. I put off my move to Baltimore. My sister Ursula…my wrestlers. They all thought me crazy, to keep going back to that diner every morning, hoping you would show up. Waiting for you to meet me as you promised."
Wilma stared at him, her entire mind just about giving out. Her heart shattering all over again… Because he’d been waiting there. That morning she woke up pregnant with Tikaani’s baby. But for all save a few days of her first month in Alaska. He’d been there at the diner, waiting for her as promised. And she’d never shown up.
“I…I didn’t know. I’m sorry. So sorry. I couldn’t come. Something happened. Something unpreventable…”
Her second apology in as many minutes. But it felt like throwing a pillow at a wall. Something that didn’t make any impact at all.
Bohdan’s eyes continued to glitter hard and intense. “Was that something else another man? One of your kind? Chosen by your papa?”
It was like getting kicked in the chest. Then the throat. Then the chest again. Wilma choked, finding it hard to breathe. But in the end, she answered. “Yes… I met my husband. But Bohdan—”
“We’re done here,” he said, before she could explain the rest. Then he turned and walked over to his office’s floor-to-ceiling window. Giving his back to her as he stood over a view of downtown Baltimore, like a king.
Wilma stared at his back. Trying to figure out what to say. How to explain more without him cutting her off again.
But in the end, she didn’t get a chance to…
The office door slid open behind her, and Wilma turned to see his assistant standing there, now with a fully-focused scowl, trained directly on the old lady who’d snuck in past her.
“Mr. Kolisnychenko would like for you to leave now,” she informed Wilma.
So that was what Wilma did. Left. Feeling feeble and weak, she walked out of the Kolisnychenko office and training complex and called for her driverless car to take her back to the hotel.
As she was walking into the lobby her comm rings vibrated with a new message. Myrna was in heat, she found out when she elled her fingers.
So it wasn’t like the Viking girl could go back to wrestling no how. Wilma should have been relieved, but only sadness pierced her as she rode the elevator back up to her room. Myrna’s wrestling dream had ended, just like Wilma’s had. With an unexpected heat that changed everything.
But no…she was being sentimental. And she’d learned that particular emotion served nobody nothing fifty years ago. Pushing thoughts of Bohdan from her head, she forced herself to remember this was good news. When she’d left The Wolf House, she’d thought Myrna and Rafes were on the verge of breaking up. But timing aside, everything was how it should be between those two wolves now. Which meant Wilma could get back to waiting to die.
So that was what she did.
Wilma stayed on at the hotel for four days. Watching the 100th season retrospective of Rap Star Wives and eating sumptuous room service meals in bed.
But she’d be a liar if she said she didn’t stay haunted by that meeting. Or that she’d be forgetting the look of undiluted rage in Bohdan’s eyes anytime soon.
Yeah, truth be telling, it was more of a relief than anything when Arik showed up at her door the fifth morning of her hotel stay to say Rafes had sent him to bring her back. And that her grandson wanted to speak with her urgently.
However, instead of the happy new papa Wilma had been expecting to see when she walked in to his office less than an hour later, she found her grandson pacing in front of his heavy desk.
Rafes's face was hollow-eyed and sunken. His hair in a state she hadn’t seen it in for years now. Curly without even a hint of product keeping it on the slicked back straight and narrow.
“Oh, Jesus, what happened to Myrna?” Wilma asked, guessing immediately this had something to do with his she-wolf.
Rafes shook his head, refusing to answer or unable, Wilma couldn’t tell.
With a sick feeling in her stomach, she asked, “Did she…did Myrna leave you? Like your mama left your daddy after her heat session?”
Again, Rafes didn’t answer. But from the way his jaw locked, she could tell she’d hit somewhere near the truth. “Oh Jesus, tell me she didn’t divorce spell you—”
This Rafes answered, cutting her off with a tight, “No, she doesn’t know the divorce spell. It was a secret passed down by their father only to FJ, his oldest son. I’ve run a few probability algorithms on that scenario, and the results came back that her brother most likely won’t share the spell with her, since her issue with me is neither fatal nor urgent.”
Okay, Wilma thought, shaking her head at Rafes in confusion. He’d always been aloof, but now he seemed downright unemotional, his voice little more than a tight monotone. “But why did she leave you?” Wilma asked.
Rafes looked to one side, his entire jaw going rigid. Then he turned back to her with his usual presidential aplomb and said, “That’s something I’d like for you to talk to her about. I’ve already arranged clearance for a commercial drone. I’ll need you to go to North Dakota and convince her to come back to The Wolf House. Would you like for a robot to pack your suitcase or would you prefer to do it yourself?”
“Myself,” Wilma answered. “But I’m not going to North Dakota. Not until you tell me why Myrna left in the first place.”
“It’s complicated,” Rafes answered, raking a hand through his curls. “She expects things from me…things I cannot give her. Not if I want to win this campaign.”
Wilma blinked.
She never questioned the grandson who’d taken her in after Tikaani’s death. She knew he had his secrets—both personal and state—not to mention his mother’s mule-headed sense of wrong and right. And all she was supposed to be doing up here in his house was waiting to die.
But this morning, this particular morning after four days filled with mental recaps of that last conversation between her and Bohdan, Wilma had to ask her grandson a few damn questions. “Things like what, Rafes? You’re the president of the whole damn North America. What could she possibly want that you can’t give her?”
Rafes leveled her with a sour look. “She thinks I don’t want her because of things that happened to her—literally—hundreds of years ago. And somehow, she’s decided, having become an expert on modern love after six entire months of being in this time period, that we’re no longer a viable match,” Rafes answered, his voice clipped. “So she’s secretly applied for custodial sanctuary in North Dakota with Ola and those two uncles she has wrapped around
her fingers, even though she’s the evilest witch I’ve ever encountered in my life. Myrna’s abandoning me and destroying our family, all because I won’t let her wrestling match stream—”
“Wait, wait, wait, hold up. You’re not allowing her match to stream?” Wilma asked, her voice cracking with indignation. “After she worked so hard—”
“She worked so hard?” Rafes asked, his gaze narrowing. “Do you have any idea how hard I worked to get to this point?”
“Yes, I do, Rafes,” Wilma answered, narrowing her own gaze. “I was there during all the conversations between your daddy and Tikaani about you becoming the next president of North America. I know you went to law school and what not, and you stay campaigning. But I’m here to tell you right now, that Viking girl has worked harder. No! No! Let me talk!”
Wilma held up a finger to keep her mule-headed grandson from interrupting her. “That girl landed here, in a new time period because she was running away from a dragon. And did she feel sorry for herself, for losing her mama, her daddy, her whole damn Viking age life? No! I watched her throw everything she had into becoming the woman you wanted her to be. And then, while doing all that, she somehow manages to land herself a job in wrestling—which she was damn good at by the way. I mean as natural a pro as I’ve ever seen. And what do you go and do? Say she can’t have the one thing—the only dang thing she’s ever wanted for herself. Because all you’re thinking about is your election—”
“My election is all that matters,” he started to insist. “If you had any idea of the stakes—”
“I’d still be calling you a damn fool right now, Rafes. Because people…people are all that matters. You have to understand that.”
He opened his mouth again, but again she didn’t let him talk. “I loved your granddaddy, I did. If the lake had given me any kind of choice in the matter, I would’ve told it to take me not him. But when he brought me to Alaska back in the eighties, I had to give up…more than you know, more than I ever let on. I did for him what you’re trying to make that girl do for you. And as much as I loved him—will never stop loving him, there’s a little part of me that had to die in order to make that love happen.”
Wilma clamped her lips, remembering how hard it had been those first few years. Learning to code switch from Detroit keepin’ it real to rich Alaska royalty, along with what seemed like one-thousand must-know Inuit wolf traditions and mores on top of that. “Now Tikaani’s dead, and no, I never embarrassed him like everybody thought I would when he first brought me to Alaska. But part of me knew that his love for me—the real me—was only in private.”
Wilma shook her head at Rafes, coming out of the past to tell him, “That Viking girl…she’s loved you from hello. And I’m sorry that letting her be herself might put you behind Lowell and his boring-ass wife in the polls. But I’m not going to North Dakota to convince Myrna of nothing. She chose you. She loved you, pure and true, and you blew it. You blew it, because you’re a damn fool, and guess what Rafes, there ain’t nothing I can do about that.”
Wilma was sobbing by the time she finished her speech. But her grandson just looked back at her, expression perplexed. Like she’d lost her mind.
Maybe she had…
Wilma ended up storming out of the office, too angry and confused to say anything else. Back to the safety of her familiar room. But when she got there, she couldn’t bring herself to call out to her Tikaani hologram, even though that was the only way to turn on the smart wall TV.
Her father was dead now. A distant memory that had faded over time to both bitter and sweet. But for hours and hours all she did was lie in bed, feeling powerless, like he was still living with her in the same house, still manipulating her life. Until finally, thankfully, she fell into a deep black sleep.
37
Rafes
“NIGHTWOLF! NIGHTWOLF! NIGHTWOLF!”
Rafes stood at the podium, looking down at the crowd who’d gathered at the Wyoming kingdom house’s lakefront for his first stop, in what would become a string of back-to-back rallies for the last seven days of his campaign. He hadn’t even begun his speech, but they were already chanting his name.
The Baby Effect, he acknowledged, remembering his last meeting with his campaign team.
Most Lupine Presidents, including Lowell, were in their late forties to fifties and therefore out of heating age. It had been over a century since a baby had been born in The Wolf House. So the announcement of the upcoming baby had been enough to seal his front runner position, even if his team had been forced to turn down all press offers, claiming that Myrna was tired and needed her rest.
Too bad, that continent-wide Wolf House baby dream wouldn’t be coming true, thanks to Myrna’s decision to leave him and file for custodial sanctuary.
But it didn’t matter now, he told himself. Again.
Everyone had believed the excuses about why Myrna would no longer be campaigning on his behalf. And according to Baylor, they were close to a settlement amount to get the only footage of both fights. That had actually gone easier than anticipated. No wolf-ops needed, because for reasons that still hadn’t been made completely clear, Bohdan Kolisnychenko had fired Myrna the night of her first fight.
So strangely, Myrna had been right. He hadn’t needed her to win this election, only the idea of the baby she carried inside of her.
So then why couldn’t he shake the image of his grandma, tears streaming down her eyes as she yelled, “You blew it…because you’re a damn fool!”
His wolf had gone strangely quiet inside of him after that conversation. But not in the usual lurking way. It didn’t feel like the beast was plotting a takeover inside Rafes now. More like it was sick. And despondent. Lovesick…Rafes had eventually realized, coming to understand the real meaning of that word.
But even this was technically another boon for his campaign. Since Myrna’s leaving, Rafes had woken up in human form every day. It was like…like without her, the wolf had lost its will to fight. And that made campaigning the easiest it had ever been on Rafes.
However, there was now an ache inside of him, a hollow wind, blowing through his soul, even though technically, he was now getting everything he wanted.
You blew it.
“NIGHTWOLF! NIGHTWOLF! NIGHTWOLF!”
The crowd was loud. But somehow his grandma’s voice inside his head was even louder.
He gave the speech anyway, ignoring his grandma, as he delivered lines about increasing opportunities and decreasing threats with perfect cadence. Dependable President Robot, who was made fun of often on WolfNet, but according to his team, did well in the polls.
However, toward the last few lines of his speech, he stuttered, his eyes narrowing on the two people moving to stand at the front of the crowd. A male and a she-wolf, both of whom he recognized.
One was Knud. He came to a halt in front of the podium, face completely neutral, like he hadn’t been steadily ignoring Rafes’s messages all week, only to show up here at the Wyoming rally. But more surprising than that piece of particularly Knud audacity, was who stood beside him.
Jillian. A few years older…and dressed in a sensible dress as opposed to the jeans she’d favored in law school…but it was most definitely Jillian. Had Knud brought her here on purpose? To rile him up?
Rafes went cold…dread snaking up his stomach as he finished his speech. Then came loud applause that he didn’t deserve. Not even remotely, he thought to himself, looking down at Jillian’s face for the first time in years.
But instead of motioning for Arik and his new fully vetted and cleared Special Wolf Force guard, Thomas, to deal with the unexpected rally attendees, he cranked his head at Knud, indicating that his brother and Jillian should meet him backstage—which in this case was the living room, of the kingdom house. He’d planned to go over his notes for an hour there, before getting back on Wolf Force One to attend another rally in Utah.
But this felt right, he decided, as he took a standing position in the kingdom
house’s living room.
Rafes had let his father take care of all the pay off and resettlement work after what his wolf had done. If she was here to tell him off, she deserved an audience. So instead of cowering in his bedroom at the Colorado kingdom house as he’d done last time, he waited in the living room, bracing himself for the cussing out he knew he had coming.
Jillian appeared with his brother a few minutes later, her face unreadable as she slowly walked up to him and came to a stop.
“Hi, Rafes,” she said, her voice still as soft spoken as it had been all those years ago, her now older eyes searching his face. “Can I….Can I hug you?”
Before he had a chance to answer the unexpected question, she wrapped her arms around him.
“Jillian…” He started to say “don’t,” bracing himself for his wolf to come up with an angry growl, like it did whenever a woman who wasn’t Myrna touched him without warning.
But his beast just lay inside of him as Jillian hugged him tight. Still too heartsick to as much as lift its head.
Or maybe it was because Jillian now smelled strongly of another male. Yes, he’d heard she found a mate. The head of Wyoming’s Treasury department, so basically the kingdom’s financial planner. But somehow the smell was still a surprise as was the bright smile in her eyes as she drew out of the hug.
Since that night, he’d only pictured her the way he’d seen her last. Bloodied… crying… frightened after his attack. But now…now she looked so normal…and happy. She smiled up at him and said, “I voted for you in the last election and I’ll definitely be voting for you again.”
Rafes stared at her confused, trying to figure out what was going on as she took a self-conscious step back and pushed a flank of her hair behind her ear.
The Brothers Nightwolf Trilogy Page 69