The Black Wolves of Boston (eARC)

by Wen Spencer

  On the surface, the statement seemed entirely innocent and true. Seth knew his foster brother. Isaiah was heading to Albany for revenge. Cameron and his cousins weren't equal to the Thanes. Ewan was the only one that could stand up to Isaiah. The price for doing so would be steep. Every time that Isaiah triggered Ewan's instincts to protect his pack, Albany's Source would wash away all the memories that Ewan had recovered. Instead of taking a week to recuperate, Ewan could be lost until the king returned.

  "Leave Albany alone!" Seth ordered. "Just go back to the Castle."

  Another murmur was translated as "Your highness, please, let us handle this. The king ordered you back to the Castle."

  "Albany wasn't dead when the king gave his orders!"

  "Stop being a pompous little ass!" Isaiah obviously had snatched the phone from Leung to shout at it. "For once, do what you're told!"

  "I can't trust you to do the right thing," Seth said. "So I need to do this myself."

  Seth glanced back at the Bentleys as Isaiah snarled a string of curses that ended with the line going silent. A phone sailed out of the passenger's side rear window of the lead Bentley.

  "Ooooh, Leung just got that phone," Jack cried as the rectangle of glass exploded into a billion pieces before being run over.

  The lead Bentley swung into the fast lane and raced past the Grigori's Jeep. Seth braced, anticipating the big car to sideswipe them. Hoffman was driving, hunched over the steering wheel as if he expected Isaiah to hit him from the back seat. Leung was looking out the rear window at his new phone disintegrating. Tawfeek looked like he wanted to be anyplace else but the back seat. He gave a small apologetic shrug as the Bentley roared past. Isaiah glared ahead, ignoring Seth and the Jeep. The second Bentley pulled into the left-hand lane, following the first. Thane Silva was behind the wheel. He held up his middle finger as he drove past.

  "Still exit?" the Grigori asked as they were nearly on top of the decision point.

  "No. We're going to Albany."

  The Grigori swung back onto the highway. As they drove toward the turnpike, Jack tried to get one of the Thanes to answer his calls.

  "Haji is in with Isaiah." Jack rationalized why they were ignoring him. "The bastard isn't going to let Haji answer his phone. Russo is with Silva. They must figure if there's a shitstorm over this that Isaiah will take the brunt of it."

  "They're right," Seth said. "Alexander won't bother to find out who was in what car. Isaiah is highest dominance; he decides which way they jump. Alexander has never punished Isaiah for what he's done to me in the past. Isaiah must think that he won't get in trouble for this."

  Jack sighed as his call went to voicemail once again. "And if no one dies, he won't. Alexander doesn't care about intentions, he only cares about end results."

  "If there's a breach, someone will die," Seth growled. "It could be as bad as three years ago."

  "What are you going to do about Joshua?" Elise asked.

  Joshua was ignorant of dominance and strong enough to challenge a Thane. He'd trigger everyone's kneejerk reactions, even Jack's. Worse, Joshua wouldn't stand and fight, he'd run. His brother was good at running. Seth wouldn't be able to protect the Albany pack if he was constantly needing to chase after Joshua.

  "Decker is asleep," Elise continued. "Joshua won't want to leave without saying goodbye. If you leave him in Boston, I'll keep a close watch over him."

  Seth hated the fact he had been too angry to say goodbye to his family. He'd spent the morning whining about how unfair it was that he had to go to New York alone. He'd fought with his brothers over things he wanted to take, stupid things that the king would have bought replacements for. A video game console. A remote-controlled car. He couldn't even name all the useless things that he stuffed into boxes that morning. It'd been too painful to unpack. Every bit of it reminded him that he'd made his little brothers miserable, ruthlessly taking favorite toys, hours before they were killed. He deeply resented that Alexander tore him away from his family.

  Joshua had already fled his foster parents' house without saying goodbye. He'd spent the week making a new home. Cleaning. Painting. He even got a pet. If Seth tore him away from all that, he'd hate Seth.

  "The Wickers are dead..." Seth started.

  "The ones we know of are," Elise cautioned.

  Seth shook his head. "Decker's house is warded. Its location is the best kept secret in Boston. We're the only ones that know where he lives..."

  "The wise woman, Sioux Zee, knows where the house is," Jack reminded Seth. "She did the wards when Decker moved in."

  Seth locked down on a growl of frustration. Did these two want him to drag Joshua into the middle of a fight with Isaiah?

  "She's kept her silence for half a century," Elise said. "She can be trusted. The problem is Joshua himself. He doesn't stay in the house at all times."

  Seth checked on his brother. "He's there now. He's asleep."

  "I've told him to stay in the house," Elise said. "You might want to stress that."

  Every other time Seth had checked on Joshua, he'd been out roaming the city, going as far as wading at Frog Pond.

  If they detoured to Cambridge just to explain to Joshua face to face, Isaiah would have an hour or more to terrorize the Albany pack.

  "I'll call him," Seth said.

  "Hm?" Joshua answered the phone with a sleepy grunt.

  "This is Seth. I need to go to Albany for a while."

  "Hm?" Joshua gave another grunt.

  Seth paused and checked on Joshua again. Yes, he was in human form, but his connection with the Source blazed stronger than normal. Seth was talking to the wolf. "Be a good boy and stay in the house. Stay. Stay."

  "Hm."

  Seth took that as a "yes" and hung up.

  "You're kidding," Elise said. "Stay?"

  "I'll call him again when Joshua's actually awake."

  39: Joshua

  Joshua dreamed Seth had called him. His little brother explained that he needed to go to babysit four Mouseketeers. The mice were extremely cute; they looked like Mickey Mouse except they wore clothes. They lived in a big brick Victorian with lots of cool games. Darts. Foosball. Billiards.

  As the mice played, a big bad wolf arrived. It stood outside the house, huffing and puffing. Joshua knew that while the house was made of bricks, the mice would need to leave sooner or later for cheese pizza, cheese nachos, cheese fries and beer. It worried him. (It also confused him. If the mice needed a babysitter, how could they order beer?)

  He woke up holding his cellphone. According to the log, Seth had called him. Joshua had apparently answered. This put talking in his sleep to a whole different level. Was Seth really going to Albany to babysit beer guzzling mice? It was all very mind boggling.

  The most surreal aspect of his dream was the part that didn't change when he woke up: he had a little brother. "Little" being subjective: Seth was taller and stronger than him. Seth looked and acted like a prince. Unlike his sister, Seth actually seemed to want Joshua as his brother.

  Bethy wasn't really his sister. That was a surprisingly painful realization. She'd spent most of his life torturing him in some way or another. Flushing the toilet when he was in the shower. Short sheeting his bed. Taking him on snipe hunts. Taking him out trick or treating when he was too young to go alone only to take half his candy because she was too old to get any herself.

  He pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. Was she happy now that he was gone? He wasn't sure if he wanted her to be happy or sad.

  Why had his parents lied to him for his entire life? He'd asked so many times if he was adopted. The answer had always been a firm "no." Sooner or later he would have found out; he needed a social security number to go to college. When were they going to tell him? He was nearly eighteen. Did they plan to tell him on his birthday? What kind of sucky present would that be?

  His stomach growled, reminding him that a hungry wolf was a dangerous wolf.

  * * *

  With eve
rything else going on in his life, Joshua failed to wrap his brain around the passing of time. He'd somehow noticed but not really noticed the huge displays of canned pumpkin and cranberries and bags of stuffing all through the supermarket until he was at the cash register. He'd been counting the fifties that Decker had given him when the clerk suddenly thumped a massive frozen turkey down onto the belt.

  "What's that?" Joshua asked even though he technically knew what it was.

  "It's a turkey." The clerk pushed buttons on her cash register, presumably charging him for it.

  He eyed it, feeling like somehow he was being pranked. "I---I---I mean---why---why---why is it there? I didn't---I wasn't going to buy..."

  "We're giving out free turkeys. You bought enough to get a turkey." She finished typing. Her screen showed that it weighed twenty-five pounds and he wasn't being charged for it.

  "What am I going to do with a turkey?" he asked.

  "Cook it. For Thanksgiving."

  And then all the cranberries and stuffing and pumpkin hit him straight between the eyes like a bullet. Thanksgiving. He hadn't even thought about it. His family always went to his grandmother's, just like the song, over the river and through the woods. It was one of those great-and-horrible-at-the-same-time family events that always made him feel like he was adopted.

  Because he was. Not that anyone ever admitted it.

  He'd spent every Thanksgiving of his life stuck at his grandmother's house. He never had anything to do but watch the Macy's parade---because everyone else was---or slip off to another part of the house and risk being tortured by his bored cousins. Usually it snowed or rained, making the outdoors forbidden territory lest he track in mud. They weren't allowed to eat anything in case it would ruin their appetite for the feast, but his grandmother could never correctly estimate the cooking time for the turkey. Early afternoon became late afternoon and sometimes early evening before they sat down for dinner. In the meantime, Bethy would throw fits, saying that her stomach hurt, and get snacks, which she would then lord over Joshua.

  A sudden wave of homesickness hit him and he started to whimper.

  The cashier and the bagger both froze, gazing at him in round-eyed in surprise.

  Embarrassment began to burn its way up Joshua's neck. At least he hoped it was a hot blush and not fur. "I don't know how to cook a turkey."

  "Turkeys are easy," the cashier said. "Just get one of those bags. And remember the junk inside."

  Bags? Junk? He didn't want to spend the time to ask her what she meant. He just wanted to escape before the whimpering got worse.

  * * *

  The turkey lurked on the kitchen counter.

  Decker appeared behind Joshua like magic as usual, nearly getting judo thrown. Again. "I thought we were over that." Decker meant being thrown.

  "I'm jumpy. You should make more noise."

  "Click. Clack. Click. Clack," Decker said.

  "What the hell are you doing?"

  "It's footsteps. Like on the radio."

  "No one does radio plays anymore."

  Decker sighed but moved on. He pointed at the massive frozen turkey lurking on the countertop. "What is that and why is it making you jumpy?"

  "It's a turkey."

  "It is?" Decker poked the plastic covering of the frozen bird. "They've certainly changed since I was human."

  "I don't know what to do with it."

  "Don't you normally cook turkeys?"

  "No." Joshua felt the homesickness well up again and this time there was no stopping it. Which was how Decker ended up on the couch, holding a wolf puppy, while the turkey continued to lurk on the kitchen counter.

  * * *

  In the end the turkey was banished to the freezer until he figured out what to do with it.

  The turkey lurked in the freezer for a whole week. He could sense it lurking from the moment he woke up until he went to bed. There wasn't any place in the whole house where he couldn't pick up its presence.

  Just when he thought he'd managed to ignore it, the compressor on the refrigerator would kick on or the ice would drop in the icemaker and he would be made aware of it again.

  On Friday, it got worse.

  He got a second turkey.

  * * *

  "What's this?" Dr. Huff pursed together her black lips and eyed the plastic bag on her receptionist counter. At their feet, a pit bull was desperately trying to get Joshua's approval, much to his owner's concern.

  "It's a turkey." Joshua pushed the plastic bag toward her, leaving a wet trail of condensation.

  "No, no, I'm a vegan." She pushed it back toward him. "You need to eat meat to stay healthy. A turkey is good for you, especially the dark meat."

  "I've got two now. This one is fourteen pounds and the one at home is twenty-five pounds. What am I supposed to do with them? And why do they keep doing that?" This was with a glance down at the fawning pit bull. It was completely ignoring his owner pulling at his leash.

  "It's a dominance thing." Dr. Huff took a dog biscuit out of the glass jar on the counter and fed it to Joshua. "And you should cook the biggest turkey for Thanksgiving." She petted him on the head as he started to whimper. "Oh, it's okay. Call your brother and invite him to dinner."

  He swallowed down the cookie. "Brother?"

  "Seth. You have his number?" When he nodded, she scratched him behind his left ear. "Good boy."

  * * *

  Joshua was finishing the third pint of Ben & Jerry's ice cream---this one Pumpkin Cheesecake flavored---when Decker came up behind him quietly announcing "Click clack click clack." Joshua grunted around the spoon in acknowledgement of the vampire's presence moments before Decker wrapped himself around Joshua.

  "Seriously?" Joshua complained. "Can't you just walk harder?"

  "It's funnier this way." Decker rested his chin on the top of Joshua's head.

  Normally Joshua would be slightly pissed about the full body hug, but at the moment---with the poultry positively looming beside him---he needed the comforting. Or perhaps more accurately, the wolf needed Decker close.

  The little pamphlet on "puppy care" that Dr. Huff had given him stressed that he should expect having an overriding need to be in physical contact with "his pack members" during periods of stress. It also warned that the wolf had a very liberal view as to who qualified. The hug worked like a very good drug on his nerves. He relaxed back against Decker even as embarrassment burned its way up his face.

  At least Decker never teased him. "I thought you took care of that."

  This was in regards to the second turkey that was currently lurking on the countertop where the first one had sat last week. There wasn't room in the freezer for it. Yet.

  "I got a second turkey," Joshua mumbled around the last spoonful of pumpkin cheesecake.

  "And some ice cream." Decker picked up the three empty containers. "Gilly's Catastrophic Crunch? Two Wild & Crazy Pies? Cotton Candy?"

  "I got the ice cream earlier. I wanted to see what these flavors tasted like. I never had them before." One of the unexpected bonuses of doing his own food shopping: buying anything he wanted. Seriously. Ice cream at his parents' house was chocolate or vanilla. Usually fat free. He'd had no idea of the range of flavors available until he hit the frozen food aisles at the store that lived up to its name of "supermarket." He couldn't decide what flavor he wanted, so he went with "all of them." He still had Red Velvet Cake and Triple Caramel Chunk in the freezer.

  The thought of another pint of ice cream made him made him whimper.

  "You don't have to keep the turkey." Decker turned Joshua around so he could pat Joshua on the back while rocking him.

  "Oh please, don't rock. I think I might hurl."

  The rocking stopped and the patting turned to a back rub. "You can throw the turkeys away if they upset you."

  "My mother would kill me for throwing away that much good food."

  "She---," Decker said tentatively, "---wouldn't know."

  Which was really the root o
f the problem. His parents didn't know. They didn't know where he was or if he was okay or anything. He hadn't called them. He had no idea how the conversation would even go but he was fairly sure it would involve questions like "where are you now?" and "when are you coming back?" and most importantly, "what do you mean, young man, that you're not coming back?"

  He'd always been the good kid. He'd always done what his parents told him. He always told them where he was going and he always got home before his curfew. He couldn't imagine telling them that no, he wasn't returning.

  Not even for Thanksgiving.

  He tossed the spoon in the vague direction of the sink and clung to Decker, whimpering louder.

  How do you tell your parents "Thanks for raising me but I'm really someone else's kid"? He knew his dad wouldn't take that as an answer; there were too many lawyers on his side of the family. His dad would want to take it to court and fight it out. Let a jury decide.

  He was fairly sure the werewolves didn't have lawyers. The wolves just killed people that pissed them off. How could he explain how much danger his parents were in while making it seem he was perfectly safe? He had no idea. He couldn't even explain why he ran away from home in any way that didn't make him seem like a nutcase unless he lied. A full week of wracking his brain and he'd still hadn't come up with a reasonable lie. All his parents knew was that a large dog had plowed through the prom committee. How did he explain that it had been a werewolf? That he was now a werewolf? That at any possible moment, he might turn into a tiny puppy or a horse-size wolf?

  Okay---that last one would be fairly obvious three minutes into any reunion---especially if Decker wasn't there---and he wouldn't be if it was during the day....

  The whimpers became a keen.

  Deep breaths. Deep breaths. He was seconds away from being stuck a puppy the rest of the evening. With a gallon of ice cream in his stomach, that couldn't be good.

  "You're fine. Everything is going to be all right," Decker murmured, carefully rubbing his back. "And please don't throw up on me. This is my favorite shirt."