The fact that Murphy had been reporting to Allerton about my wolf’s progress should not have been a surprise to me, but it was. A deep, visceral jolt of betrayal surged beneath my skin, but it cleared. Of course he would talk to Allerton. Why wouldn’t he?
It was humiliating as hell that Allerton would be in contact with Murphy to talk about my wolf. He didn’t talk to me about Murphy’s wolf. It made bitter sense. Murphy didn’t need to do the work I needed to do. His wolf was adult and responsible. Mine was still childlike.
“We had fun on our road trip,” I said in a small voice. “We saw so many places. My favorites were New Orleans, Atlanta, and Knoxville.”
“How long are you planning to stay in Boston? I wonder that you don’t want to go to Dublin and meet the rest of your pack.” Allerton pushed the cookie plate toward me and I caved and took one of the mittens. Eating it gave me an opportunity to not answer him for a moment and I’d take all the time I could get.
The cookie melted in my mouth. The tastes of vanilla and sugar combined with the chocolate of the candy into sheer brilliance. Kathy Manning was a baking genius.
I remembered there had always been baked goods on the conference room table two and a half years ago when I’d been questioned. I hadn’t eaten any of them, but when I thought of the conference room I associated it with the smell of sugar and flour and chocolate—a weird dichotomy.
“Well, we just got to Boston two days ago. I want to show the city to him. We’re packing up the stuff I want and getting rid of the rest of it. We’re going to rent the condo out to tourists, in weekly blocks. We’ve got to talk to a rental agency to manage it for us. It’ll be a good source of income for the pack.”
“Your pack is being handsomely compensated for the time I take you away from them,” Allerton remarked. “Plus there’s some for you both personally. I’ve paid you for two months, have you not noticed your bank balance lately?”
I shrugged and debated a second cookie. Goddamn, they were good.
“I don’t bother with checking the balance. I use my debit card sometimes, but mostly Murphy pays for everything. He’s rich.”
Allerton’s smile was fond.
“I know, Constance. Quite a switch for you. You’ve always counted your pennies. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough not to check your balance nowadays, but just so you know, Advisors are well paid.” He casually mentioned a whopping sum that I took to mean at least six months’ salary, but no, that was just for one month.
“The Council’s rich,” I remarked, astonished. I wouldn’t exactly be a millionaire off my salary, but I would be comfortable. I was earning more than Elena had earned for her games.
Allerton laughed. “I’m personally well off. I pay my Advisors slightly more than the going Council rate. Mine deserve it.”
I wasn’t afraid of hard work, but I was a little remorseful for accepting two months’ salary for doing not a damned thing but gallivant through American cities.
“I’m ready to work whenever you want me to,” I told him, guilt pricking at my conscience.
“What you’re doing here right now is working,” he said
“Does it have to do with Grandfather Tobias?” I whispered. My mouth was dry and I took a sip of the coffee.
“I want to know what he tells you,” answered Allerton evenly.
I nodded.
“I want you to interact civilly with your former pack as well,” he added.
I bit my lip. “I wasn’t planning on making a scene, Councilor.”
“That’s very good.” He got to his feet and I followed suit. My gaze happened on the book he’d casually moved to the side to allow room for his coffee. It was the latest John Grisham. I gaped a little because I’d expected someone like him to read something a little more highbrow or intellectual.
He saw me looking and a smile quirked his lips. “It’s quite riveting. I intend to spend the rest of the afternoon consuming it. I hope to be finished by dinner. Would you like to choose a book to read while you’re here?” He gestured to the bookcases, which were crammed with both paperbacks and hardbacks. “You’re welcome to browse after you’re settled in your room. Are your bags in the hall? We can bring them up on our way.”
I flushed. “Murphy has them in the trunk of the car.”
Allerton steered me to the door, his hand hovering at the small of my back.
“No matter. There are toiletries supplied in all the bathrooms. I’ll see what Kathy can do for pajamas for this evening.”
“I guess I’m not really dressed for dinner,” I said.
“You’ll be fine,” he assured me as we walked down the hallway toward the front door. A wide staircase painted gleaming white with red-and-black carpeted stairs was just to the right of the hallway, making up part of the wall.
We ascended it and came out on a large landing that branched off into a hallway. The door to the master suite was at the end of the hall. It was obviously in use by Allerton. He’d used it two and a half years ago as well. There was a bathroom en suite. The other two bathrooms were located between the bedrooms on either side of the hall and were accessible through the rooms on either side of them as well as by the hallway.
All the doors, including Allerton’s, were open, except for the second door on the left-hand side of the hallway and the bathroom door between that room and the other bedroom. I knew immediately that’s where they held Grandfather Tobias. Both doors were locked against him, but allowed him access to the bathroom.
The windows in the house were electronically monitored by an alarm system, so if he were so foolish as to try to leap out the bedroom window, they’d know downstairs in a heartbeat.
Grandfather Tobias was old and frail. No match for Kathy Manning, let alone in combination with Allerton. If the fall didn’t kill or injure him, they would not let him get far.
Allerton showed me to the door of the first room to the right.
It was a small room dominated by a fireplace with gas logs. The mantelpiece and surrounding woodwork were painted a creamy white. An old-fashioned armchair was placed just to the side of the fireplace.
A mahogany four-poster bed was covered with a white down comforter with a Colonial patchwork quilt in reds, yellows and blues folded across the bottom. The pillow shams were also quilted. An old cedar chest crouched at the foot of the bed. A tray with a carafe, two mugs, and a plate of the sugar cookies wrapped in red plastic wrap decorated with a green bow sat atop it.
Bright yellow-and-red curtains hung across the window to the left of the fireplace.
A mahogany dresser with an oval mirror was placed against the wall opposite the bed. On either side of it was a door. One led to a small closet, the other to the bathroom which was tiled in white and dark blue. The toilet and spa tub were also dark blue, as were the two sinks in the granite-topped counter. A separate shower stall with glass doors stood to the side of the spa tub.
Every toiletry imaginable was arranged artfully on the countertop, including a wicker basket filled with travel-sized toothbrushes, mouthwash, soaps, shampoos and skin lotions.
The towels were royal blue, thick and fluffy. Two white waffle-knit spa robes hung on pegs on the door leading to the hallway. A motion sensor air freshener scented the air with vanilla when we walked by it.
Candles and bubble baths were arranged on the window sill above the spa tub. The window itself was glazed in a diamond pattern which alternated in blue and white glass.
Allerton made no mention of when I was supposed to talk to Grandfather Tobias and I didn’t bring it up because I wasn’t ready.
“Please make yourself at home. Dinner’s at seven thirty, but we’re having cocktails in the front room at six.” Allerton checked his watch. “That gives you about three hours. Is there anything you can think of you might need?”
Murphy. I mustered a smile from somewhere and told him I would be happy to curl up on the bed and take a nap. I’d stayed up late the night before.
He left
me alone then, but not before he took my hands in his and gave them a gentle squeeze.
Chapter 5
With the door shut and the only sound the forced air from the central heating, I found myself unable to fall asleep.
Instead, I switched on the gas fire, poured myself a mug of coffee and drank it while I ran a hot bath liberally dosed with peppermint-scented bubbles.
I lit the candles, turned off the lights, wrapped my hair in one of the fluffy blue towels and relaxed beneath the bubbling water.
The warm swirling water produced a soporific effect, which washed away the early morning wakeup call, the stress of the trip, Murphy’s defection and the unnerving thought of having to face my old pack.
I dozed off into an amorphous dream, but woke with a start when I heard a noise in the bedroom. I’d shut the door to the bathroom and I wondered if the sound had been in my dream and not really in my room, but then I heard it again. Someone had slid open one of the dresser drawers. Was it Kathy Manning with pajamas?
The bubbles were gone in the tub and I was beginning to prune so I figured I’d been soaking long enough. I pulled the stopper on the drain and climbed out, drying off with the towel I’d used as a makeshift turban.
As I tied the sash of one of the waffle knit robes around my waist I ventured back into the bedroom, hoping I’d given Kathy enough time to vacate.
Murphy was sprawled moodily across the four-poster bed. One arm was curled around his head defensively, the other straight down at his side and he looked morose and frustrated. He’d taken off his boots, but he was fully dressed still and his mouth had a certain tightness that, over the past months, I’d learned to tread around carefully.
Our suitcases were half in, half out of the open closet door. My purse was on the dresser with his wallet and cellphone.
“I suppose that Allerton told you all about Colin Hunter,” he spat at me before I even got the chance to say hello.
He made it sound as though I had eagerly lapped up the story and the unfairness of it took my breath away.
“It’s none of your business, Constance, so I don’t want to hear one word out of your mouth about it.”
When he called me Constance, he was pissed.
“I don’t—” I began to deny any knowledge at all, but he interrupted me.
“Shut the fuck up, I told you. I don’t want to hear it.”
If I had been wearing anything but a goddamn robe, I would have left the room, left the house and him and his fucking attitude with it, but I couldn’t.
So I retreated into the bathroom and slammed the door, locking it for good measure.
I thought about taking another bath, but ended up sitting on the toilet, head in my hands, crying as silently as I could. Not since the night Murphy had nearly died had I felt so acutely displaced and alone. I wished I could go back to Boston. I wanted the Murphy who didn’t snarl at me back. How could I face Grandfather Tobias or my former pack, with Murphy in this foul mood?
For the first time in ages I wanted Grey so badly I could smell his hair and his cologne in my memory. The way he’d looked at me with love written all over his face, the way his hair had been dark and long and I could run my fingers through it while we lay tangled in bed together.
I could never touch Murphy like that—in bed or out.
I’d thought I was okay, I’d thought I was good, actually, but no, I was a frigging mess, fragile and weak and rapidly disintegrating.
The door knob rattled then, encountering the lock, Murphy was forced to knock. “Stanzie, let me in.” All the rage was gone from his voice. Frustration was still present, but there was also remorse.
“Go away,” I tried to disguise that I was crying, but it was no use.
“I want to talk about Colin.” He made his voice gentle and kind but that only served to make me feel worse about crying and terrible about missing Grey.
“I don’t,” I yelled. “I didn’t want to talk about him with Allerton because I wanted you to tell me if you wanted to. But now I don’t want you to. I don’t care.” That was a lie, I did care.
“You don’t know anything? You don’t know who he is to me?” Murphy sounded incredulous and dismayed, which boggled my mind because he’d obviously resented like hell the thought of Allerton telling me.
“No, I don’t. And I don’t care. Leave me alone!” I swiped at my leaking eyes with the sleeve of the robe. It was very soft. I left a trail of mascara and dusky rose eye shadow in my wake.
“Please unlock the door.”
After a moment I got up off the toilet, stalked to the door and twisted the lock. I stomped to one of the sinks where I began to scrub my face free of makeup. My goddamn hair kept getting in the way, so I held it back with one hand and washed my face with the other.
The door opened and Murphy walked in. I saw his remorseful expression reflected in the mirrors above the sinks and counter. He handed me a towel and waited for me to say something.
Silently I dried my face, threw down the towel and walked past him into the bedroom, forcing him to step aside to let me pass.
He dogged my footsteps. I dug my brush out of my purse and began to savagely pull it through my snarled hair.
“That looks painful.” He winced as he watched me.
“It is,” I agreed wrathfully, brushing harder. Guilt swamped me—guilt and anger.
“What time is this goddamn dinner?” He made a disdainful face and retreated to the window, pushing aside the curtain so he could look out. While I’d been bathing, the sun had set. It was pitch dark outside and I doubted he could see much of anything but he still stared out as if fascinated.
“Seven thirty,” I told him. “Cocktails at six in the front room. The one with the Christmas tree. I think we need to dress in something other than jeans.”
He let the curtains fall. “I really shouldn’t be here,” he remarked, almost to himself.
“Nobody asked you to come back,” I snapped, terrified he was going to leave me again.
“Allerton must have a reason for doing this to me.”
“To you,” I whispered sullenly. How did this suddenly get to be about him? I guess I was supposed to drop all my anxiety and terror around facing my former pack, including the one who’d murdered my bond mates, and cater to him and whatever the fuck problem he had with some guy from England I didn’t even know.
How bad it could be? I was pretty sure it couldn’t compare to my situation, but I was supposed to feel bad for Murphy and jolly him along even while I silently went to pieces.
“It’s complicated,” he said. He glanced at me and sighed. He looked so desperately unhappy I felt a little bit like a selfish asshole.
He was always there for me. He’d stuck up for me and protected me at the Great Gathering. He’d bonded with me to keep me out of Councilor Celine Ducharme’s clutches. He guided me and my wolf, he’d brought me on a two-month road trip to allow me to sort myself and various issues and nobody was more sympathetic to those various issues than he.
Now here he was, beside himself, angry and desperate, with nowhere to turn. I had him to turn to, but he didn’t have anyone. He was trying to turn to me and I was being a baby.
“You don’t have to tell me,” I said softly. “It’s okay, Murphy. It’ll be all right. And you don’t have to stay tonight if you don’t want. I’ll be fine. I know you only came back because you were worried about me.”
He gave me a small, relieved smile. The skin stretched tight around his eyes and mouth relaxed slightly.
“That and the fact that Allerton must have a reason for this bullshit.”
I snorted laughter despite myself.
“You are always so curious about what that man is thinking and what he’s up to.”
“I have to be because lately what’s he been thinking about and what he’s up to somehow ends up deeply impacting my life. You’re a prime example.” His smile was sardonic, but his voice softened when he got to me.
“He asked m
e if I liked you,” I confessed in a guilty rush.
His dark eyes searched my face.
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth,” I said.
“That bad.” He mock groaned.
“I do like you. A lot,” I said and he became serious in an instant. “I told him we were having so much fun on our road trip and all the cities we’d seen and then he asked me why I wasn’t in a rush to see Dublin and meet my new pack members and I didn’t know what to say.”
“Because now you’re thinking I’m deliberately keeping you away from Dublin and the rest of the pack. Aren’t you?”
It killed me, but I nodded. Every time I’d brought up Dublin, he’d adroitly changed the subject. I’d thought he’d wanted me to relax and not rush through every experience as though I were eating ice cream in ninety-degree weather, but this afternoon after Allerton asked me, I’d begun to wonder.
His reaction to the fact that this man from the English branch of Mac Tire was going to be here tonight made me wonder if there was some sort of secret being kept that he didn’t want me to know. I didn’t like thinking that way. It made me nervous and guilty, as if I were the one keeping the secret and not him.
“We’ll go to Dublin soon. Especially now that Colin’s in the picture.” The way he spat out the man’s name, as if it burned and disgusted him, made me shiver. I wouldn’t want to be Colin Hunter.
I waited for him to say more, but he didn’t. He turned back to the window and I put down my brush and went to my suitcase.
Forty minutes later we were both ready. My dress was a metallic burgundy sheath with a matching bolero jacket edged in dark red sequins. I wore my new Jimmy Choo black platform pumps—a Christmas present from Murphy.
I stood before the mirror fixing my bond pendant to the short silver chain I wore for evening events while Murphy stood just behind me making last-minute adjustments to his tie.
He had on a pair of black wool trousers and the white button-down shirt with blue pinstripes I’d gotten him at the Armani store in Houston. A black Giorgio tie with a tiny silver triangular pattern completed his look. He had a gray jacket tossed across the bottom of the bed. Thankfully he’d put aside his Timberland boots for a pair of black wing tips.
Scratch the Surface (Wolf Within) Page 5