Wicked Hour

by Neill, Chloe

  * * *

  * * *

  Overly tired, I left Traeger and Connor to help with the dishes, promised them I could make the forty-yard trip back to the cabin safely.

  The resort was as quiet as a graveyard. No firepits burning tonight, no raucous parties. Instead, the cabins were lit from the inside and out, even the bravest of shifters inside with doors locked. Even if they hadn’t believed us—or the other shifters who’d fought—about the creatures who’d attacked, they weren’t taking any chances.

  I reached the cabin, was surprised to find Alexei on the steps.

  “Hey,” I said, walking to the porch. “You waiting for Connor?”

  “Nope,” he said. “I’m on guard.”

  “On guard?”

  He glanced up and back. “I’m going to keep an eye on the place while you sleep. Because of the shutters.”

  I simply stared at him. “You’re going to guard the cabin.”

  “That’s the plan.”

  I considered walking inside, leaving him to his work. But I thought about what I’d shared with Georgia, the lightness I felt for making my confession. So I took another chance and sat on the step beside Alexei.

  “I appreciate that you’re looking out for Connor. And I appreciate that you’re looking out for me.”

  He nodded.

  “I grew up in Cadogan House. Always guarded, always big shutters on the windows. In Paris, there were guards, but no shutters. Just big velvet curtains. They were beautiful—this deep blue that was the same color as the sky at midnight. But they were curtains. I’d trained one night for twelve hours—it was winter—and practically fell into bed when dawn came. And I didn’t check the curtains first.”

  He was quiet for a moment, insects filling the silence. Then he asked, almost tentatively, “What happened?”

  “My legs were exposed for, we think, about ten minutes before I screamed myself awake. There was a human guard in Maison Dumas, and she heard me, came running. She got the windows closed, bandaged me. I had to convince my parents not to fly to Paris. And learned my lesson about checking the curtains.

  “I healed,” I said, “being a vampire. But it took a good week, and nothing cut the pain in the meantime.” I looked over at him. “I know your standing guard isn’t just about me. But I appreciate it. I just wanted you to know that. So, thank you.”

  He nodded. “You’re welcome, Elisa.”

  It was the first time I’d heard him say my name.

  TWENTY

  I need to buy Alexei a pound of gummi bears,” I said at dusk as we prepared to leave.

  Connor snorted, crunching an apple of brilliant crimson. “Flirting with him isn’t going to endear you to me.”

  “Sugar flirting isn’t emotional flirting. And it’s not actually flirting at all,” I corrected, belting on my katana. “It’s payment for services rendered.”

  “Still sounds like flirting.”

  “Have you updated your dad?”

  “I’m not comfortable with that segue.”

  “I’m not going to buy him gummi bears.”

  “Well, that’s a relief.” He walked toward me, offered his apple. “Bite?”

  If Eve had been half as tempting as Connor Keene with a Red Delicious, I felt a sudden sympathy for Adam.

  “I’m . . . fine,” I said.

  He cocked an eyebrow, smile spreading slowly. “Are you?”

  “I am. Why are you flirting with me? Do you need gummi bears?”

  He snorted, took another bite of his apple. “Yes, the Pack has been updated. Pops is irritated by the Obsideo, but fine with the result.”

  “You fix the clan?”

  “No,” he said, and took a final bite. “We fix the clan.”

  * * *

  * * *

  We found Alexei still on the steps, chewing on the end of a scarlet red rope of licorice. And staring at a wall of gleaming white aluminum.

  “What is . . . ,” I began, taking in forty feet of vehicle. “Why is there a motor home parked in front of our cabin?”

  “It arrived two hours ago,” Alexei said, taking another bite. “Hasn’t done anything since it arrived.”

  “So it’s probably not an immediate risk?” I asked flatly, as he chewed, watched the door contemplatively.

  “Not unless you’re waiting to be attacked by retirees.”

  The door opened, and we looked into the green eyes of a very pissed-off-looking cat.

  “Shit,” Connor muttered, stepping behind me. “Devil cat.”

  Eleanor of Aquitaine hissed at the sight of him. Which made me feel a little better about our tumultuous relationship, but didn’t make me any less surprised to see her sitting there.

  “Did she open the door?” Connor’s question was soft, and there was a cautious edge to it. Smart boy.

  “I doubt she’s mastered that without opposable thumbs,” I said. “She does look pissed at you, though. What did you do?”

  “I exist. That seems to be enough.”

  As if in agreement, the cat swished her tail while Lulu stepped behind her. She wore a white ringer T-shirt with red at the collar and sleeves and “Lovers Love Minnesota” across the front.

  “Hello, Minnesota!” she said brightly, then looked down. “Pardon me,” she said, and the cat turned around, flicked its tail in the air, and trotted deeper into the RV.

  “Your cat?” Alexei asked.

  “Ah, he deigns to speak to me. And no, Eleanor of Aquitaine does not admit to ownership. She allows us to live in her loft.”

  “You brought a cat into a compound of shifters,” Connor said.

  “She brought herself,” Lulu said, stepping onto the asphalt. She opened her arms, and I gave her a hug.

  “I’m really glad to see you,” I said. “But why are you here?”

  Theo stepped into the doorway. “We’re the roaming Ombudsman’s office.”

  “Anyone else in that clown car?” Connor asked.

  “Just us,” Theo said, stepping onto the asphalt. He nodded at me and Connor, then at Alexei.

  “Alexei, Theo,” I said, introducing them. They exchanged nods. “And why is the Ombudsman’s office here?”

  Theo glanced at Connor. “It was his idea.”

  “Was it?” I asked.

  “I thought we could use some allies,” Connor said. “I just didn’t think they’d come in . . . that.”

  “Recreational vehicle,” Lulu said.

  My heart sighed at his sentiment. “Thank you,” I said, and Connor smiled back. “But is it safe for them to be here? All things considered.”

  “No safer than for us.” Connor smiled, lifted a shoulder. “But no less safe, either. We’re a team on this one. And we could use some investigators.”

  “That would be me,” Theo said, raising a hand. “Although I did fill in Lulu and Eleanor of Aquitaine on the basics during the trip.”

  “Which you should have done,” Lulu said, punching me lightly on the arm. “Lot of drama.”

  “That’s why I didn’t tell you,” I said. “And since you don’t like drama, why are you here?”

  “It’s a recreational vehicle,” Lulu said again. “I’m here to recreate. Or recreationally work, anyway. I brought my supplies, and I’m going to do some plein air painting. I want no part of your magical drama. But I am available for cheese curds and hot dish.”

  I was glad to see her but worried, too. “You have to be careful. Most of the county is pissed at us.”

  “I take it seriously,” she said, shifted her gaze to Connor. “And I take him seriously. He’s not going to let anything happen to you.”

  “No,” Connor said as if she’d been asking him the question. “I’m not.”

  I pushed down irritation, because I knew she meant well. “I don’t need protecti
ng.”

  “Two Sups are better than one,” she said, then shifted her gaze to Alexei. “Usually.”

  She stared at him. He stared back at her, silently.

  I just watched them, fascinated.

  Beside me, Connor said, “Alexei.”

  “Yes?”

  “Have you met Lulu?”

  “Sure.”

  Another moment of silence passed.

  “Classy,” Lulu said.

  “Moving on,” I said, looking at Theo, “do you have anything to report?”

  “Wait,” Lulu said, and held up a hand. “That’s my cue to not be here.” She pointed east. “Lake that way?”

  “It is,” Connor said. “And that’s our cabin if you need anything. Keep your eyes and ears open.”

  “I will.”

  But as she walked past Alexei, he took her arm. “You shouldn’t go out there alone.”

  She looked down at his arm, then slowly shifted her gaze to his face. “I go where I want. And I suggest you take your hand off me.”

  Alexei watched her for a long, smoldering moment before raising his hands, holding them both up as if showing his innocence. “My apologies,” he said, and we all exhaled.

  “I’m walking right there,” Lulu said, and pointed to the shoreline. “If any large monsters appear in the darkness, you have my permission to rescue me.”

  Alexei watched her walk away. “What’s her problem?”

  “You’re assuming she can’t handle herself, for one,” I said. “Because trust us—she can.”

  When he opened his mouth to object, I held up a hand. “I know you meant well, but until we figure out what’s going on, we’re all vulnerable to attack. Theo told her what’s happening here, and she’ll take care of herself. But she won’t sit in a cabin and wait it out any more than we would.”

  “This isn’t a fight you’re going to win,” Connor said, and clapped Alexei on the back.

  “She’s being illogical,” Alexei said.

  “She’s an artist,” I told him with a smile. “Get used to it. If you want to stand guard, go for it. But I wouldn’t let her see you.”

  Alexei looked back. “Maybe I’ll just stand on the patio.”

  “Good luck and godspeed,” I said, squeezing his arm.

  “With that topic closed,” Theo said hopefully, “you should come in.” He climbed the stairs back into the vehicle.

  “Is the clan going to give you trouble about the RV?” I asked Connor as we followed him.

  “Probably. But we’ll handle it. I want them close by.”

  “Because you want to keep an eye on them?”

  “Pretty much,” he said with a smile. “They’re helpful and kind and capable. But they aren’t shifters. We’re all in enemy territory, relatively speaking. I’m sorry that it’s come to that, but that’s where we are.”

  I was sorry, too. Not just for us, but for him, as someone who loved the Pack, Cassie and Wes, whose child’s initiation would always be scarred by the memory of what had happened afterward, and for those who disagreed with Cash, who’d apparently had no way to argue or to correct their situation.

  “It smells like feet and Cheetos in here,” Connor said.

  “The RV already smelled like feet. Cheetos are my driving fuel,” Theo said. “And Eleanor of Aquitaine’s been stealing them and hiding them around the RV.”

  But for the smell, the vehicle’s interior was nice. Burled wood and pale leather, and fancier than I’d have thought the city of Chicago would spring for.

  A lot fancier.

  I looked at Theo, narrowed my gaze. “This was in the OMB budget?”

  “What’s that, now?”

  There was further narrowing until my eyes were suspicious slits. “Theo, did my parents pay for this RV?”

  “No,” he said. “Of course they didn’t pay for it. They just, you know, contributed a little.”

  I just looked at him.

  “Some,” he amended.

  I lifted my eyebrows.

  “Okay, most of it.” At my narrowed stare, he held up his hands. “Not my call or my doing. Your father and Yuen talked. And then I talked to Connor and passed that along, and decisions were made.”

  I sighed, both appreciative my family had wanted to help and irritated that they thought I’d gotten into something that required a rescue team.

  “I think this would be a good time to show our worth,” Theo said. He slid into the small dinette, began to work a tablet. “You there, Petra?”

  “I’m here!” We heard her voice first, then her torso began to shimmer in midair in front of the table.

  “Augmented reality features,” Theo said, gesturing to her floating head. “The RV is loaded.”

  “Petra is a tech whiz,” I said, and offered a wave. “Hello, Petra.”

  “Hello, Elisa and Theo and Connor and Eleanor of Aquitaine.”

  The cat jumped onto the counter opposite the dinette, tried to paw at Petra’s image.

  “I know, pretty girl. I miss you, too.”

  Eleanor of Aquitaine meowed coyly.

  “You’re friends?” I asked, staring between them.

  “Of course,” Petra said, shifting her gaze back to us. “Are you not?”

  I had to work not to show fang.

  “All righty,” Petra said. “I have a mediation later tonight—the sedan did not survive its dunking in the Chicago River—so let’s get this going.”

  “Did you find anything about the symbol?” Connor asked.

  “Of course. Its source and possibly some of the explanation for what you’re seeing.” She glanced down at Theo. “If you would?”

  “Sure,” he said, and swiveled the tablet on the table to face us. On its screen was an image of the symbol I’d found on the shutters, the lines jagged and cut into what looked like gold.

  “A carving?” Connor asked.

  “A signet ring,” Petra said, and the image zoomed out, showing a gold ring with a round flat top on which the symbol had been carved. The ring looked like an antique, but not an antiquity.

  “How old?” I asked.

  “This ring is from the nineteen sixties,” she said. “From a cult called the Sons of Aeneas, Aeneas being the heroic ancestor of Romulus and Remus, the twin founders of Rome.”

  “And suckled by a she-wolf,” Connor said, and she nodded.

  “And they supposedly took in all the power of the wolf in that process,” Petra said.

  “That explains the ‘RR’ on the ring,” I said, sitting on the sofa across from the table. “What was the cult about?”

  “The group was started in the nineteen forties during World War Two. A quartet of friends from New York was about to ship off to some really hairy fighting in France. Someone made a joke about how they needed to be heroic and strong like wolves, and they started the club. All but one of them survived the war, and when they came back, they formalized the group.”

  “And how did it become a cult?” Theo asked.

  “Evolution,” Petra said. “The original founders died, and you add in a little gang warfare, a little cocaine, and a social club becomes something a lot darker. Instead of just using the wolf as a symbol, they start to worship wolves. And it spreads across the country. Local dens start to open up. They pretend to be just another fraternal society, something like the Freemasons, and they put on a good face about charitable works and community service, and maybe that was true in some of the dens. But not everywhere.”

  She looked away, eyes scanning as if she was reading from a source. “They took mythology very seriously, created their own tracts and treatises about wolves and their particular favorite—werewolves.”

  “The wolf illuminati,” Theo said.

  “Not unlike,” Petra agreed. “The cult bought into the Romulus a
nd Remus mythology, decided werewolves were the perfect union of human and wolf—the chocolate and peanut butter of the human and animal kingdoms, if you will.”

  “Hybrids,” I said, and she nodded.

  “These humans weren’t wolves, or anything close to it, and they wanted to be. So they did a deep dive into Roman history and records, and found a spell intended to bring the power of the wolf into the human body, just as Romulus and Remus theoretically did.”

  “Bingo,” Connor said. “Zane and the others found the spell, and they found a spellseller who was more than happy to do a little magic without telling anyone.”

  “There are SOA dens in Minnesota,” Petra said, “and I found all this stuff online with not too much hacking, so it’s pretty likely your shifters could find it, too.”

  “They found it,” Connor said, “and decided the dogma made sense and wanted to try it.”

  “Dogma,” Petra said with a smile. “Nice.”

  I looked at Connor. “How did the Pack not know about this cult?”

  “I have no idea. Did it ever work?” he asked Petra. “Was there ever evidence the spell did what it was supposed to do?”

  “Not in the public records,” she said. “A few SOA chapters said they were successful. They did the spell during closed sessions, claimed Keith or Carl turned into a werewolf, but it was never verified outside the chapter meetings.”

  “That’s probably why they didn’t know,” Connor said. “Assuming the magic worked at all.”

  “We have to go back to the spellseller,” I said. “We know Zane and the others didn’t do magic, and she does. She must have made the spell for them. If we can confirm how the magic was done, maybe we can figure out some way to fix them. Or stop them.”

  “She refused to talk to us last time,” Connor pointed out.

  “I believe that’s where I come in,” Theo said. “I talked to the Order’s registrar. They know of Paloma, but she isn’t registered to practice. It’s like being on an inactive list. And, interestingly, there aren’t any other sorcerers in this part of Minnesota—registered or otherwise.”

  “So the spell could only have come from her,” I said.

  “So the spell could only have come from her,” Theo said with a nod.