by Mark Henwick
It was the Scandinavian type who spoke, angrily. “They don’t have a say in who we get to choose for our alpha.”
“Okay, okay. Sounds good to me,” I said, to calm them down again. “So how come they don’t even see you as a pack?”
The Latina answered. “It’s not just us. There are packs all—”
Her friends stopped her.
“Come on,” I said. “Your alpha asked what it takes to be associated. Well, being open and speaking the truth is a good start.”
They fidgeted, just like any uneasy pack.
Billie stared at her wolves. None of them challenged her with eye contact.
Ohh. Something difficult to talk about, then.
She turned back to me. “The truth is…we’re runaways.”
“Outcasts?” I’d said it before I could stop myself.
Billie’s eyes narrowed. “Runaways,” she repeated, pronouncing the word clearly and carefully, as if teaching a child. “It’s happening more and more. San Diego, SF, I heard all the way up the North Coast. Inland too, Las Vegas and Flagstaff.”
“Women werewolves leaving the packs?” I asked, to be sure I was understanding what she was saying.
“Yeah. Leaving the packs. Leaving the alphas that tell us what we have to do ‘for the good of the pack’.” Her voice dripped sarcasm.
I was going to ask her for some examples, but her pack were there already.
“Like no say in the running of the pack. Like being common property.” Fingers stabbed me in the chest like it was my fault.
“Not being allowed out the door without three male guards,” the Latina said.
“Except when they use us to lure more guys into the pack,” the Scandinavian joined in.
“Even when every last one of them that comes in dies without fully changing,” Billie said.
It looked like they could keep this up for some time.
“It’s not like that everywhere.” Rita came to my rescue, interrupting them.
“It is hereabouts in California and Nevada.”
“And some of Arizona.”
Haz cleared her throat. “We heard something weird like that about the Flagstaff pack while we were in Phoenix.”
“Honestly, Billie, it’s not like that further east. Why not just leave LA?” I asked.
“This is our territory,” Billie said. She spoke evenly, but there was pride and anger beneath the words.
And I couldn’t argue with that. My roots were in Denver and I missed it every day I wasn’t there.
Rita’s mouth was stretched in a mirthless smile. “Well, Zane is looking at Flagstaff now. If those guys are really like that, they won’t know what hit them. And LA could be next.”
Haz was scowling at Rita again. There was communication going on between the Albuquerque women that I couldn’t read. I sensed Haz thought Rita was speaking too openly, and not just about where Zane was at the moment.
“Okay.” Billie leaned against the table and started doing my job of getting us back to the point. “I can’t tell you how happy I’ll be if you guys come in here and change attitudes. Meanwhile,” she jerked a thumb to indicate where Horseshoe had been taken, “what shit-for-brains from Long Beach wasn’t telling you is there’s the perfect opportunity to meet all the alphas tonight.”
She went back to the board and circled a small area next to the LA River, inside the neutral yellow zone downtown.
“That’s an old hospital they rent out for slash flicks. Creepy place. But tonight, it’s the venue for Claws.”
Apart from her pack, who were smiling and nodding, we all looked blankly at her.
“Sheee-it! You never heard them? The West Coast’s one and only all-werewolf, post-grunge band.”
“They’re the dope,” the surfer blonde said.
I hoped that meant good.
“You’re sure the alphas will be there?”
“Oh, yes. We’ve been looking forward to this.”
“Great, but we can’t just show up and talk to them. We’ll have to warn them,” I said. “And what about you? If the agreement on common territory doesn’t hold for you, how are you going to be there?”
Billie had a smile like a crocodile. “We’ll handle all that.”
Alex wasn’t sold yet. “How can we trust you?” he said.
“Hang out with us today.” Billie opened her arms to include all of us. “See who we are and what we do.”
Bian shook her head. “I can’t do that. Tom and I need to get to Albuquerque,” she said. “We have a flight booked this morning. I have to be there to formally declare my domain today.”
She looked at her watch. The eastern sky was lightening.
“I’m sorry, Tom,” Bian said, turning and resting her hand on his arm. “We need to collect our gear now and then head out to LAX.”
He nodded, his eyes and mouth narrow. He’d do it, but he looked massively unhappy about it.
What was that about?
Earlier, Skylur had said Elizabetta had to stay.
It wasn’t as if Tom and Elizabetta didn’t spend any time apart. And Tom had other kin as well as Elizabetta. No, there was something about leaving her here in LA.
And it wasn’t only Tom; Elizabetta was pale, staring ahead, not looking at him.
“I’ll go back to Albuquerque with you,” Rita said to Bian, interrupting my thoughts.
Bian looked questioningly at her.
“It’s going to be a whole lot easier talking to Zane if I introduce you. He’s due back from Flagstaff later today.”
“What about LA? You came to—”
“It was to make introductions, not seal a deal. Haz can stay.” Rita turned to me. “She and Amber can open the discussion. After all, as you said, Amber, we’re associated packs. You can help represent us as well as introducing your own Altau agenda.”
Crap. Tables turned.
“I have no idea what you need,” I said.
“Haz does. Anyway, it’s standard stuff to start with. Rights to visit. Principles of closer cooperation. Broad intentions. It’s easy: we’re Were—no legal contracts, no paperwork.”
“Rita, I don’t want to be here on my own.” Haz cast glances around—not just at me, but at the Belles as well.
Maybe she was afraid I’d bite her, but why the concern about the Belles?
Rita didn’t agree. “We need strong bonds with Billie’s pack. If we achieve nothing else but making the other packs recognize the Belles, that’s huge progress. You know that’s ninety percent of the way there.”
There was something being communicated here that I wasn’t quite tracking.
The Belles weren’t tracking either. They seemed to think they were making Haz uncomfortable by being so friendly.
They weren’t above teasing her for it.
“You’ll be good. We don’t bite,” the Latino Belle purred, raking Haz up and down with the kind of look that would set asbestos alight.
Yeah.
I bit my lip to stop from laughing. If Haz just relaxed, they’d get tired of it and stop. No one was going to suddenly jump her when Rita walked out the door.
Bian also hid a smirk and then got serious again.
“Don’t I need Amber in Albuquerque to help make a deal?” she asked Rita.
Please. If I could check New Mexico off my list…
“Not today.” Rita shook her head. “You’re not getting a deal yet. I can tell you now, Zane will offer you some cooperation—we’ll help out with what you need to set up your House. But it’ll be informal. All deals go through Cameron.”
Bian shrugged. “Okay, then I’ll go up to Santa Fe tomorrow.”
Rita shook her head again. “For that, you will need Amber, but it’s up to Cameron to say when and where that takes place. No one invites themselves up to Santa Fe.”
So much for shortening the list. I was back to having to meet with the oddest, crankiest alpha of them all. At least it wasn’t today. I had a chance to open up discussions wit
h the LA packs first. Maybe arrange something with Felix and the halfies.
And maybe I’d fail so spectacularly with one of those tasks that Cameron wouldn’t want to see me anyway.
Concentrate on the task in front of me.
“Sorry, we can’t hang out today either. We have too much to do. We’ll have to meet at the concert,” Alex said, returning to Billie’s invitation. He nodded towards where Horseshoe was tied up. “We have to get him back to Long Beach, for one thing.”
“Let him walk,” Bian said. “Just show him the door. This safe house is compromised anyway. It’ll be up for sale by the end of the day.”
“Sorry about that.” Billie smiled insincerely.
“Yeah. Okay.” Bian looked around. “Tom, we’re moving now.”
She left him to say goodbye to Elizabetta and came to me. “Walk with me,” she murmured in my ear.
Haz and Rita were talking using the hand-signal language I’d seen them use in Albuquerque. Tom and Elizabetta were embracing wordlessly. Elizabetta had her eyes squeezed shut and tears leaking.
Bian pulled me out the door before I could say anything.
“You trust this guy Zane?” she asked.
“Yeah. With everything but my zipper.”
She smiled, but it was no more than a tightening of her lips.
“What’s—” I started to ask about Tom.
Bian stopped me. Rita was already out the door behind us.
“Listen, Round-eye: Elizabetta’s taking you for breakfast when we get clear. She’s been able to do some research on Forsythe.”
A kick of adrenaline in my gut, a feel of a snarl working along my jaw.
Interrupted by Tom coming out of the house, his face stony.
Bian saw the direction I was looking and hugged me. “Elizabetta will explain,” she whispered. “Take care.”
“Yeah. See you soon.”
“I’ll give your love to Zane,” Rita said, and hugged me in turn.
“Do that and I’ll come down to Albuquerque and kick your furry ass into the Rio Grande.”
She laughed.
I wanted to hug Tom, who was standing behind her, but I wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. I felt awkward, and then it was too late; they were getting in their van and it was rolling.
The Belles spilled out and Billie rode her Harley up into the back of Haz’s van before joining her in the cab.
The girls wheeled the rest of the Harleys around and headed off like crows following the black van.
The Altau patrol emerged with Horseshoe and let him go.
He walked off, glaring at all of us, but not saying anything.
“Any reaction on our mission last night?” I asked one of the patrol who was monitoring police radios.
“Nothing special. This is LA.” He shrugged as if that explained everything. “Don’t want to make a habit of destroying buildings, but you did good there, House. It was fun, too.”
He clapped me on the shoulder and they headed off.
Finally, Alex took the last van, with Vera and Elizabetta. He was going to drop Elizabetta at a café downtown, then he’d take Vera back to the house in Hollywood Hills.
There was no way I was leaving the Kawasaki at the unsafe safe house, and no quick way to load it into the back of the van, so Yelena slid on behind me and we played follow the van through the early morning traffic. I passed the time trying to compartmentalize all the Were politics and leaving my head clear for whatever Elizabetta could tell me about Forsythe.
It was time I gave him some serious attention.
Chapter 29
Alex led us downtown to the Old Bank district before he pulled over and Elizabetta got out. My wolfy nose could smell the coffee from the street.
Alex left.
Over her protests about guarding me, I sent Yelena to go with Elizabetta into the restaurant. “Get me something with scrambled eggs and toast and coffee and stuff.”
“Stuff. You Yanks.” Yelena walked stiffly to the restaurant, shivering. Fun as it was, if we were going to use the Kawasaki a lot, we’d need to dress more warmly.
I found a free parking space for the trail bike a block away and trotted back, my stomach grumbling.
They were sitting at a table with a good view of the people walking past outside.
“You want Bitches’ Brew or Black Gold?” Yelena asked, indicating the two coffees in front of her. “They’re good.”
“You cheating bitch. You’ve been drinking from both of them.”
“Is old Carpathian custom,” she said, looking down her nose as if that was an honored tradition I should know about.
“Bullshit, thief.”
I grabbed the one on her left and sipped.
Oh, yes! Glorious.
Elizabetta smiled a little at our joking, but she looked pale and tired. I guess we were all looking like that after being up all night.
Our food arrived before I could start any conversation, and for a few minutes Yelena and I were busy eating. Elizabetta nibbled and pushed her omelet around the plate.
The eagerness to get more information on Forsythe was like an itch I couldn’t scratch, but I was wondering how to ask her tactfully what the matter was with her and Tom first.
She beat me to the punch, putting down her fork before she’d even eaten half her meal.
“I’ve got some information on Forsythe,” she said, and handed me a USB drive.
“Liz, you and Tom—”
She stopped me. “It’s all right. I’ll tell you the background,” she said. “I guess that’ll cover what you want to know.”
The actor-between-roles who was waiting on our table came around and gave us coffee refills.
After he’d left, she started again.
“The Assembly has security procedures that are mandatory for meetings of more than a half-dozen Athanate Houses. The old Assembly, I mean, and I know they aren’t around anymore, but we’d never have gotten Houses to come to LA without assurances that those procedures were in force. Not after the last Assembly in Denver.”
Where Matlal had tried to attack the Assembly, willing to kill his own associates so long as he killed more Panethus Houses at the same time.
“There’s an important requirement in all those procedures: for Athanate or kin to infiltrate the local police force at senior and operational levels. It’s normally the responsibility of the local House, but Tarez has had no time to establish himself.”
She poked her omelet again with her fork.
“Skylur managed to put someone in the Office of the Chief. It was more difficult to get someone into the operational side in a hurry. So I’m it.”
“How could you get in quicker than anyone else?”
“I used to live in LA seven years ago.” Her voice caught, and she paused for a second. “Tom was down here with Paul and Jason on some mission for Bian. I met them completely by accident. You know how they say sometimes you just know. Well, I saw Tom Sherman and I knew. Didn’t make any difference that I had to move to Denver, any more than when I found out about the Athanate.”
She put her fork down and left the omelet alone to concentrate on her coffee. She hadn’t looked Yelena or me in the face since we’d sat down.
“The thing is, the guy I was dating back then was in the police, Jefferson Reed. He’s still around. He’s still single, and he’s in the Major Crimes Division.” She waved down the road toward City Hall, where the huge angular building that was the police HQ loomed.
“They can’t ask you to take up with your old boyfriend, can they? I mean—”
“Check your oath. Skylur doesn’t have to ask; he can tell me.”
“But you’re not Athanate, you’re kin,” I said. “Kin don’t take the oath.”
“And so? Tom’s oath makes him responsible for making me obey, if necessary.” She scrubbed her face with her hands. “In fact, Skylur asked and I agreed. It is important.”
I looked at the little USB drive sitting on the ta
ble in front of me. If I took that, it made what Elizabetta had to do partly my fault.
Yelena reached over and pocketed the drive before I could say anything else.
“Jefferson gets in early to work and then comes in here to have breakfast,” Elizabetta said, looking at the front door. “I join him most days.”
She shifted gears, becoming all business. “The data on the drive is from an electronic bug I’ve planted on his laptop. The techs call it vamping.” Her mouth twisted in a half-smile. “So, anyway, basically I vamp his entire drive every week, including all the database queries and responses he’s done recently. Good news for Skylur: Major Crimes has no idea about the Athanate or the meeting.”
She waved down the actor and got us another refill.
“We shouldn’t be here when Reed arrives,” I said. “We could blow your cover.”
“I know,” she said. “But I need to give you the background on Forsythe, so you know what you’re dealing with.”
I nodded reluctantly.
“Okay. So, I’m grabbing Jefferson’s Major Crimes data and internal memos, then Bian asks me to check on Forsythe. I thought that’d be a whole lot more tricky and risky, getting the bug to issue its own database searches. As it turned out, it wasn’t necessary.”
We all leaned forward as she dropped her voice.
“Jefferson’s already got a directory of data about Forsythe.” She tilted her head. “It’s not completely clear, but here’s what I think is going on. Jefferson and his captain, a guy called Simpson who runs Major Crimes, they believe organized crime has its claws into the police and the DA’s office. They’ve brought in an ADA, a woman called Bailey, and no one else. This is an off-the-books, need-to-know investigation. They have data on about twenty people, including people in the DA’s office, mayor’s office, judges, the industry, you name it. Even policemen in Major Crimes.” She paused. “Anyway, one of the people they’re looking at is Forsythe.”
Another burst of adrenaline. A wolf-vision of a prey sighted through a screen of trees.
Elizabetta saw it and held up her hand to slow me down.
“The guy is clean, according to the top level data. I mean he doesn’t even have parking tickets.”
She took a sip of her coffee.