I imagined taking him back to my bed, finding his hand again, pulling him with me. And then what? On that little bunk with seven others asleep in the room?
Zar would be waiting up for me.
Back downstairs then? The guest lounge, tables, sofa, chairs, breakfast room—all the hangout space for the hostel was open all night. Attended by the host at the front desk, who may be listening to music or streaming movies, but could still see into the room.
I withdrew, gently disengaging.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“What for?” He kissed my lips again, then let go.
“Our … circumstances…” I swallowed, breaths still fast and shallow. “Have breakfast with us before they clear it away?” I didn’t want Zar thinking this breakfast thing was a date, yet I felt cruel even as I asked Isaac, my face heating more.
“Of course.” He nodded. “Moon bless, Cassia.”
“You too. Good night.”
I had a bit of trouble finding my own door. When I did get inside, the dark figure of Zar slipped out of bed to meet me.
“Go to bed,” I whispered quickly. “You should already be asleep.” Like I was his mother, wincing at my own words.
Zar didn’t seem to mind. “I was keeping an eye on your bag.”
As if it needed guarding at this hour, even in a full hostel room.
“Thanks, Zar. Good night.”
He touched my arm, kissed me, and blessed me as well, before I could back into my own bed and he returned to his.
I lay there a long time, heart pounding, mixed up and dazed. But I wasn’t fretting about murders or old graves or finding urban wolves.
Chapter 12
We took all afternoon and into the evening waiting. A miserable experience on a London sidewalk in July. Made worse by Jason and Zar’s dinner.
The others brought us carry-out: the East End delicacy pie and mash with liquor. Which has nothing to do with what it sounds like. It was, in fact, a little meat pie, mashed potatoes, and green parsley gravy. More of a January dinner but not bad. The trouble came from “afters”—which my English brother-in-law used to refer to dessert, as well as “pudding”—but which the wolves used to refer to any second course. The afters were jellied eels.
Zar had just a cup of the eels. Jason received what must have been three or four normal sized orders in a paper bag from Kage, making up half his meal. There are surely no words to describe the horror of eating cold, gelatinous, congealed, bone-filled and crunching, chunks of eel reeking of dead fish. Since I declined their offers of tasting any, I don’t have to try describing it. I will, however, say that watching other people eat them—eagerly in huge gulps, skin and all—has to be just about as bad.
To each their own, of course. And yet…
It was an hour after we’d eaten, with Zar, Jason, and myself once more alone on the sidewalk, when I saw her.
She used her key card to get in and we slipped in after her before the door locked. Perfect.
But that was the end of everything going “to plan.”
“Excuse me,” I said with a smile. “May we have a word?”
She turned from checking her mailbox in the lobby. There was no doorman or attendant in the old building.
“I’m Cassia. This is Zar and Jason. We’ve been looking for information about—”
But her amber eyes had been sweeping us as I spoke, up and down the two males, stepping back, and she cut me off.
“Stay away from me.” She almost ran to press the elevator button.
How the hell had she known? I hadn’t planned on this, but waved them away and started forward on my own.
“Please. We don’t mean you any harm. We only want to ask—”
“Get out of here!” She pounded the button. “Stay away or I’ll call the police.”
Shocked, I stepped back. “I’m human. I don’t know what you’re afraid of but—”
“Sure you are.” She darted past to grab the heavy fire door for the stairway instead.
“Wait, please. We need help—”
Bang, and I seized the door as Zar started forward.
“I’ll try to talk to her,” I said quickly.
“Cassia, no—” He caught my arm, looking scared while I only felt bewildered. “A cornered wolf—”
“Then wait at the bottom of the stairs where you can hear. Don’t crowd us.” I ran up after her—having to run as her steps were already echoing away above.
“Give me a chance to explain. Please!” I called but had to stop to focus on making that climb at lightening speed—she was fast.
I was barely far enough along to guess at the right door that she threw open and rushed down six flights up.
Another bang as I scrambled for this one.
I just spotted her at the end of a hallway when I yanked it open. She vanished into one and I sprinted along the hall to her door.
Shut and locked before I could get there. I heard fast voices. She wasn’t alone in there. But Jason had said he’d picked up only one trail.
“Please,” I gasped into the door, lungs burning from the sprint upstairs. I really did need to start swimming again. “Hello? Please, will you help us? We’re looking for information. People are being killed. There are wolves south of here—” A few breaths. “If you know anything at all about this, if you’ve heard anything, if you have any ideas, we’re desperate for—”
The bolt banged and the door swung open a foot, revealing my quarry planted in the way, facing me. I jumped back.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know anything about ‘wolves’ anywhere. I can’t help you. Leave me alone. There’s nothing—”
“If you’d just talk to us. We didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I am talking! And I’m done!”
“Mum?” a small voice behind her.
“Stay with your brother, Daisy. I’ll be right there.” She didn’t look around from my eyes. “Please, please, leave me alone. I didn’t choose to live here to be hunted down by you lot.”
“I’m not a wolf. I’m human. But I’m trying to help wolves on the south coast. They’re the ones being hunted. Someone is murdering them.”
She gulped. A pained look came into her eyes with the fear and anger. “I’m sorry.” She swallowed again. “But I don’t know anything about that. My family is here.”
“There are more wolves in London?”
“No,” she snapped. “There aren’t. And there shouldn’t be.”
I stepped back more. “I’m sorry we scared you. You’re sure you don’t know anything? You haven’t heard anything about wolves being—?”
“Nothing. Please leave my family alone.” She shut the door. I heard her quick voice in answer to the young girl inside, but couldn’t make out the words.
I walked back to find Zar and Jason at the top of the stairs in the landing doorway, waiting for me, their eyes wide.
“This wasn’t a good angle,” I said under my breath. “She has a human family here and she’s obviously committed to living this way.”
“She can’t.” Zar said.
Both appeared shocked.
“You told me you can resist changing if you want to. It seems she has.”
“Not living as human—” But he exchanged a look with Jason. “Though that’s horrible enough. I mean, she can’t have pups.”
“Humans and wolves aren’t compatible,” Jason said. “But I didn’t pick up any other trail here. She’s not living with another wolf unless he’s homebound.”
“They’re not?” For some reason, this news gave me a fresh jolt.
A vision of myself that I had yet to acknowledge: living with Isaac in the English countryside in a Victorian cottage overlooking sweeping green fields and dry stone walls, with a beck babbling through the property, and our three or four kids catching butterflies and helping me in the garden.
Not the time for distraction…
“Once in several generations,
maybe,” Zar said, lifting his hands helplessly. “It can happen that a wolf in skin and a human can reproduce. But it’s practically unknown. We don’t know anyone who’s ever met such a hybrid.”
I supposed I could settle for one miracle child in that idyllic cottage garden…
I shook myself. “I really don’t think that’s the most important point here. She adopted—whatever. The point is we freaked her out and I wasn’t expecting it. How did she know who you were?”
Jason shrugged.
“Lucky guess?” Zar said. “I mean, our noses are pretty dead in skin, but we get some clues.”
“I can’t believe they’re actually here, living like this. Even one.” Jason’s tone was miserable. You’d think we’d found this female with her skull caved in, lying in a gutter, the way he gazed dismally down the hall as if sickened.
“I know,” Zar said. “It’s terrible. I’ve never seen anything like it. I can’t believe—and family?”
“Human family, adopted or not, she’s a secret. She must be,” Jason said.
“I wish we could do something for her,” Zar said. “She’s the one who needs help.”
“Stop it, both of you. She was fine until we barged in here. And, right now, we have to assume that she’s telling the truth.” I shook my head vigorously, brushing past them to start back down the stairs.
“What now?” Zar turned reluctantly from the apparent sight of horror.
Jason caught the door that Zar dropped on him and followed.
“Now…” I took a deep breath as I started downstairs at a normal pace.
A list, a plan, options A and B, proceeding from part C to D.
Another breath. “Now I need to talk to Melanie. Then I’m going to find the Beech Pack.”
I felt them exchanging a look behind me. I didn’t pause or elaborate or glance around.
Chapter 13
We took a late train home, able to skip another night in the hostel, but waiting until dark trying the silent hive and comparing notes.
Nothing. Isaac reported they hadn’t even found one that could, or would, talk coherently, Andrew had been sick again, and Kage had threatened the hissing undead—which had not helped anyone toward diplomatic relations.
So nothing.
The train was quiet, only sparsely inhabited at night. Black windows reflected back the lit inside of the train so I watched my own face instead of the graffitied walls of London slipping away into suburban country.
I wanted to be alone. To think. To make more notes. Mostly, to figure out what I was going to say to Melanie.
I’d sent her texts, but my sister wasn’t being patient anymore. She was worried, asking what was happening, when would I be back—could she do something to help?
Short of inspiration there, I wanted to talk to Jed.
But Andrew had flopped down beside me. He smelled of grease. He’d been hungry after coming out of the blood pit and bought a burger and salted caramel shake for a snack before we’d caught the train at Victoria Station. At least it hadn’t been jellied eels. I felt queasy enough without that.
Hot, sweaty, wretched, I longed to hug my sister, go find the Beech Pack, and, failing there, head for Germany. I needed to get something done. Not just more dead ends and weird encounters.
But, tired and achy, wishing for one last iced latte even by night, I only stared at the window and did my best not to engage.
Andrew, in the aisle seat, watched my face in the reflection while the train sped south. He met my eyes in the glass. A strange experience that somehow intrigued me. It made me think of scrying, of magic, seeing—but not like normal seeing.
In the quiet train, I heard Kage and Jason arguing in table seats a few rows ahead of us. I couldn’t make out much or what they said. Only angry tones. Andrew probably knew. I, however, was glad not to.
Once Andrew had nabbed the seat with me, Zar, Jed, and Isaac had dispersed around the rest of the train car among only a few human travelers. I envied them all able to keep to themselves.
“Curious yet?” Andrew murmured in my ear after some minutes of looking into each other’s eyes in the glass. “Of course you are.” He smiled, which I saw still in the glass, the back of my head toward him in the window seat while he leaned close. “You were born curious, weren’t you? One reason you wanted to help.”
“About what?” I asked after a moment.
“Curious about us, darling. Isaac, for example? A bit about Zar, myself, the rest? Remember my offer from Cornwall? Haven’t you been stewing over questions you’re dying to ask?” He arched an eyebrow, voice even softer, a whisper, his lips almost on my ear. I suspected none of the others could hear him now in the rumbling train. “You have a double dose. I know how curious females can be about potential mates, whatever the species. Then there’s your own special personality as well.”
I frowned. “Not males?”
“Male psyche is limited, darling. Especially recessive ones like those currently around you.”
“That’s extremely sexist.”
“It’s true. What do you think when you look at potential in a male? Can he provide? A good conversationalist? Does he have a canny sense of humor? Will he be bald by the time he’s forty? Is he fun to be around? Will he be kind? Pleasing in bed? Will he be a good father? Does he want to be one?” A little shrug. “In males … a few species may go so far as to question if she has offspring-bearing hips and is healthy. Otherwise, males have no questions besides, ‘Will she stand still a minute?’”
I said nothing.
“You’ve got questions,” he continued silkily. “I’ve got answers. Don’t forget. I’ve known them all since I was eight—aside from Isaac, the other foreigner. Ever since I reached the Sables from the Aspen Pack.”
Which reminded me of what Isaac had said in the hallway at the hostel.
“You’re inviting me to listen to you gossip about your packmates?” I asked.
“More like answers from an expert. Think of me as your favorite librarian.”
“Hmm.” I repressed a smile. It was true: I loved librarians.
When Andrew had made an advance before about offering pack secrets he’d made it clear he wanted something in return. Perhaps now he would settle for attention?
“We’re sheep and wool, bacon and eggs, Moon and stars,” he went on. “We just go together, Cassiopeia.”
“Do we?” I watched his eyes in the glass as he cocked his head. “Then why don’t I trust you? I don’t even trust your offer. At the very least you’re trying to get me into a situation of being in your debt.”
“I had no idea you were so cynical.” His lips curved up while his eyes remained hooded. “Again, first one’s on me.” Then his lips did touch my ear and I leaned away, having to force myself to do it as I caught my breath.
I wanted to ask about human/werewolf conception. When we’d told the others what had happened with the nameless female in the apartment building, I’d gathered a bit more from their opinions. Only that yes, conception between the two species was almost unknown, while passing on the recessive gene to actually be a shifter in such a mix was impossible. Human blood contaminated the shifter line and that once-in-a-lifetime child that might possibly be conceived would be human—hence, no use to wolves and their concerns over population decline anyway.
I didn’t ask Andrew, though. Curious as I was about these parings. Maybe others could tell me more. Jason would be the least awkward to talk to about it.
A question for Andrew? A question I couldn’t ask anyone else?
After a pause, I said, “Tell me about Jed.”
“A bit open-ended.” He kissed my neck. Lips and tip of his tongue hot and sensual. Not cautious like Zar, or slow and deliberate like Isaac, or aggressive like Kage. It was a kiss of lovers, already in bed, already assured of his own acceptance. Not slow or fast, but burning, familiar, the same way he’d licked my fingers.
Thinking of that, I wanted to give him my hand once more, see what
he’d do. And I wanted him to keep kissing my neck.
“You said this one was free,” I said.
“True. How about an extra on me? Make amends?” He pulled back and again looked at me in the glass. “You may be interested to know that Isaac has a great fondness for biscuits—cookies to you. You have a citrus tang to you that’s rather unpleasant for a wolf putting his nose too close to your lustrous hair.”
“So you want me to change to brown sugar body scrubs and coconut shampoos?” Melanie used such products. I’d always loved citrus.
“I’m not saying I want you to do anything.” Smiling at me again. “I’m just handing out free information. Isaac fancies biscuits. Orange is something to be endured, not enjoyed. That’s all.”
“Why would you want to help me with Isaac?”
“I want to be part of you having what you want, darling. And I happen to know Isaac is not the only thing around here you want.” Watching my eyes in the glass.
Still, I thought of giving him my hand, of feeling his tongue on my skin—a welcome distraction from everything in my head that I couldn’t sort out within this train ride. And what about my choice? The sushi lunch choice that had already been on shaky ground because of Zar?
Andrew’s face was so sharp, so elfin, so close, I was glad I wasn’t facing him to get a clear look. Or I might not have been able to turn away.
I shifted my gaze to lights of a town and a train platform we streaked past without slowing.
“Just tell me about Jed,” I said in an equal whisper as I watched outside. “I have to talk to him about the Beech Pack. What is it that everyone thinks is so dreadful about him? Aside from his obvious … charms.”
“Jed’s bad side? We don’t have a long enough trip. But I’ll tell you why wolves don’t trust him. He’s a stranger, for one.”
“I know about that, but why’s it hurt his reputation so much?”
“Detached, isn’t he? Goes off in fur alone, stays in fur at home, sleeps in fur. Strangers can be a phase, a little angst. Or they can be a real problem. Like Jed. He’s been seen by worms, he’s fought silvers, and he’ll fight back against a wolf he has a row with even if that wolf’s in skin. That’s what’s earned him a damning reputation in the Sable Pack. You see, there are laws to humans, and laws to wolves. Humans have thousands of laws and they flout them each day. Wolves have very few. So few, we recite them at meetings. But we don’t break them either. Breaking them is so rare, it creates a stir, harsh punishments and estrangements at the very least. Or death.”
Moonlight Hunters: A Reverse Harem Shifter Romance (The Witch and the Wolf Pack Book 2) Page 9