by Aila Cline
“Your own son was Lycanti,” I challenged.
“He is of the purest blood through me, you fool. His father was an exemplary human. One or the other, human or Lycanthrope. Lycanti is not the path I would have chosen for him,” she stated calmly, as if Will were a vase that had offended her by being the wrong color. “His own foolishness tied him to that professor who Changed him.”
Luka stepped forward and placed a supportive hand on my shoulder.
“I loved Will as a brother, and yes he did make mistakes, as we all do. But Emily did not ask for her circumstances either. My father sent someone to kill her worse than dead, and it is through the assassin’s incompetence that Emily is Lycanti.”
Maria’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “Yes, well, in the South it is a dog-eat-dog world. Thank God we have more manners here than to kill every single human who comes along.”
Luka growled and bowed up to his full height, dwarfing me. Everything about his stance radiated aggressiveness and even I felt the thrill of fear. Maria, however, remained unmoved.
“You dare challenge my house?” he asked gruffly.
She waved his words away. “No challenge at all. Surely you realize the power of jests when appropriate.” She gave a flattering grin, a very vulpine glare that set me on edge, even with Luka’s strong presence.
“So it seems,” Luka said through gritted teeth, blue eyes blazing. “I hope you’re not offended by my reaction.”
“Yes, well, our families go far back, and knowing your family as I do, I am curious as to know why you claim the right of protection for this…” she sniffed disdainfully, “…girl.”
Luka nodded as if this exchange were going just as he wanted it. “We have a mutual matter, but she is quite capable of presenting the issue herself.”
Maria hesitated at Luka’s reluctance to speak. She arched an eyebrow. “Is this a matter for the Council?”
Luka stepped back from me, but I felt his energy tied to me like a buoy.
“No,” I answered. “This is a matter between just you and me.”
“What business could we possibly share?”
“The best kind of business. The one of blood.”
“Don't be dramatic,” Will's mother snapped. “I have no time or patience of young girls who think they have earned the right to speak in a court of adults.”
I bristled but maintained control. “You have a grandson, Maria.”
The blood drained from her face. “William's child? You have William's child?”
Luka's slight sigh from behind me did not escape my attention, but the room suddenly felt colder. “Yes. I want the protection he is owed as your grandson and my own assured also.”
Shrewdness crept back across her face. “I owe you nothing. However, I will see this child.”
I folded my arms across each other. “I did not offer.”
“You seek the sanctuary of my House and still act this way?” She clicked her tongue. “Leave now then. Do not return. I do not care what you think you have.”
“You are bluffing,” Luka said carefully. “I know what Will's child means to you. My father has told me how you longed for grandchildren, of how you still mourn Will. There is no one here to see your weakness.”
Maria's face was practically purple with rage.
“Luka...” I began to silence him before he could say something incriminating.
“No,” he growled at me. “By the gods, you interrupted my life and now have interrupted hers. We will settle this here.”
“You are trying my patience, Luka.” Maria's calm had returned, but her tone was still dangerously sharp.
Luka spoke to me even though his eyes stayed locked with the matriarch’s. “Emily, bring her Micah.”
I wanted to fight him on this, but he had brought me this far. I felt I owed him this one act of obedience. Besides, this was Mexico. This was the Clan. A Lycanti Changeling obeys a Lycanthrope no matter what. I nodded once, then left Maria and Luka to exchange their heated glare.
I watched Micah sleep for a moment before disturbing him. The fullness of his lips reminded me of all I had lost and gained. My baby did not look like the iconic cherub; rather, his dark eyes and smooth skin were the embodiment of a promise, which has infinitely more emotional satisfaction than simply gazing at a heavenly picture.
The plane ride hadn’t bothered him. He had already been on one when we came home from Alaska. That shift from dry cold to damp heat had given him a cold, but other than that he had adjusted well to Southern California. Mexico seemed to agree with him, too.
His breaths rose and fell steadily, with only a brief wheeze from the cold. The quietest moments in my life happen with Micah. I think I love him selfishly for the peace I gain in his presence. It’s one extra reason I did not want to go through with my plan, but Micah deserves a better life than the suffered existence of a werewolf—terminology be damned. Years from now, if anyone were to find out he walked as a wolf at least one night a month, they wouldn’t care what to call him. Experimentation, exploitation, death or all three would be his at their hands.
I love Micah, and now I realize why the Clan doesn’t trust humans. God knows, I trust few now. I’ve seen what they become when made into Lycanti; the brute hunger of a Changeling when combined with human passion is a singularly unique danger.
I hate that everything you hear from me comes from the past or reflects a negative present. But I’ve learned to live in the moment. When you live so angrily and so violently, holding your breath to let the hot, stale air fill you for moments at a time, you tend to not look forward too much. All you concentrate on is the next breath, and especially the motion of that breath.
So it’s hard for me to give myself a future.
But I know what I want for Micah.
I want him to be human.
I don’t want the action of living breath to sticky breath to be his only life—I want him to be have normal dreams of being a doctor, a lawyer, maybe even a bored, scholarly teacher. I want him to have dreams of light.
Not dreams of blood.
Never dreams of blood like mine.
He should never have to experience the tearing pain of his skin’s rebellion; never break open his own organs whenever involuntarily called by a celestial body he may have previously taken for granted.
Never for Micah.
Only forever for me.
I sighed. It was time for him to meet the closest thing to a grandmother he would get.
“Don’t touch that.”
I drew my hand back automatically though I internally rebelled against the thickly-accented order that cracked into the air like that directed at a child. Since Micah was currently with Maria (she had taken instantly to the role of grandmother and wanted time to bond with the child), I knew that the voice spoke only to me. She would permit Luka to stay, but not me. Maria obviously had a grudge against me—still.
I turned to the authoritative male voice. It could only be one other person since Luka was with Maria and Micah. Maria’s third husband—technically my child’s non-biological grandfather, an ill-mannered prick whom I avoided at all costs. As the masculine interpretation of Maria, I found him distasteful. How shocking, right? Would I ever find a Lycanthrope other than Luka I liked? And most importantly, would one ever be able to stomach my existence as Lycanti? Judging by his sneer, this man obviously hadn’t.
He sidled up next to me, obscenely graceful for his age. Not that he was old at that time, about forty or so, but hunting every night for murderers in the dark of Mexican streets should have made him stoop a little more or walk a little slower. Instead, he seemed as if he could outrun me.
“It’s valuable to us,” he said. I had almost forgotten that he came in only to scold me.
“It’s just a vase.”
“It is la sangría,” he corrected harshly. “No Lycanti may lay hands on it. No human will ever go near it.”
“Because?” I asked sarcastically. The Lycanthrope had
a slew of scary ghost stories/traditions that governed their everyday lives. Will would tell me stories of how they would cleanse the house of spirits at least once a y ear. At this point, it leaned on annoying.
“Never you mind,” he hissed lowly. “Just know that you may not touch it.”
“I’m American,” I said haughtily. “I have to have a good reason to desist in an action.”
His English wasn’t good and I could tell he struggled with my vocabulary. I felt a small point had been made towards proving my superiority.
Finally, he grunted. “Arrogant Americans. You think you own everything, deserve everything.”
“Maybe we do,” I offered.
“Not until your government remembers its duty to its people.”
“I don’t argue politics,” I grumbled. “But I know your government is just as corrupt.”
He smiled. “I agree. And you would do well to remember that many of the Clan hold important offices. Perhaps your country suffers the affliction of Lycanti overrunning its judiciary process also. A few more pure bloods would fix that since no one but mangy Lycanti would live in America.”
Now I looked at him as if he spoke Mayan. Politics did not interest me at all, but I had no desire to look stupid.
“You don’t honestly believe our government could have werewolves in it, do you?”
He growled. “You have been told repeatedly that word has no welcome here.”
I caustically waved his words away. “Sorry. I just can’t believe that someone wouldn’t notice.”
“Maybe someone has,” he suggested.
“Ridiculous,” I insisted. “The Lycanti stay away from people unless hunting or whoring.”
“You spent half a year with Joshua and you still believe that?”
My lips moved involuntarily as if to spit. It’s sad how even an old fuck like Maria’s husband could torture me with just a few words.
A very unexpected voice crawled up my spine.
“Oh, surely I'm not that bad. And I can't help that I have such influential friends who desire my favors.”
“Hola, Joshua,” Maria's husband said gruffly. “Welcome to our House.”
“Gracias, mi amigo,” Josh replied with his casual, fluid accent. “Will the lady of the house see me today?” A surge of anger rose up, and I fumbled to keep myself from the Change.
“I should kill you.”
“Well don't let me stop you,” he said playfully, drawing even closer to me. The feel of his breath running up the base of my neck stifled anything I could have said in response. It wasn't the seductive lick he had offered me before though—no, this was something of the tonguing of animal bathing its prey in predigestive acids with mere breath. That brand of ownership is much different than any erotic laving I was accustomed to.
His voice was low and seductive, as usual. “Nothing to say, my dear Emily?”
Maria's husband looked on, but his face betrayed nothing of what he thought of this interaction between Josh and me.
Finally, my throat worked, though my voice was substantially less threatening than I would have liked. “What are you doing here? You can't possibly be welcomed here.”
“Maria doesn't hate all Lycanti, my dear—not many at all. Actually,” he purred, “it's really just you. She welcomes anyone who offers her their business and allegiance.”
“What could you have that they want?” I snapped. “Your mangy pack does nothing but kill and terrorize. You threaten our way of life.”
“Oh shut up, Emily,” he said dismissively. “There would be no Lycanti if it was not for arrogant Lycanthrope who think they can control us. You've got this unfaltering case of Lycanthrope envy. Even Freud would be impressed. Their way of life and our way of life, as you put it, are not the same. If Maria heard you insinuate such, she'd kill you for impertinence.” He paused and looked at me expectantly. “Now go ahead and say something funny and sardonic to me so I can leave. I'm sure I have more important things to do than argue with a silly girl all day.”
An angry heat scorched my face with its tenacity. “You should leave,” I snarled. “Or I will kill you.”
He reached forward to tenderly, but tentatively, stroke my cheek. I pulled back and hissed as if he had thrown acid in my face, staring stonily at him and fighting for composure.
He gave me a low chuckle. “Oh silly, passionate Emily, fighting so hard to be human—and failing horribly.”
“I am NOT failing. At least I am trying you m—.”
“That is enough,” Maria's husband said quietly. “Emily, you and I will remain here. Joshua, you know where Maria spends most of her day. She is with Luka and a child. Do not start trouble here, or I will have you hunted.”
Josh nodded in acquiesce. “Thank you.” He turned to me and said gently, “I'm not here to fight with you. I truly thought you were dead and am pretty damn happy that you're not.” He winked at me. “But now that I know better and we're conveniently in the same house, maybe we can arrange a meeting for a little fun later.”
I yowled and Changed, haunted by everything he had done to me. I lunged for him, teeth snapping at the tender flesh of his outstretched hands. Before I could connect my need to rip with his body, a hard grip yanked me back. A shock of voltage raged through me, and once again, like so many times before, I lay unconscious at Josh's feet, not even knowing what hit me.
I came to with the hardened voice of Maria echoing in my ears.
“Bind her,” Maria commanded her husband. “She is an unruly animal, the bane of the Lycanti.” Then a stream of Spanish erupted from her mouth that I cannot even begin to translate or remember. Some of it must have been more orders, because before I knew it, I was not only bound, but gagged. No amount of my struggling changed the fact that a dirty rag was in my mouth and circulation had already begun to fade in my extremities. I stood, helpless, as Josh sauntered into the room, shot a confident, toothy smile my way, and stood before the long executive's table that occupied the greatest amount of space in the great room. He was not ill at ease, even now that Maria had called in other Lycanthrope patriarchs and matriarchs. Like always, Josh was in absolute control of himself. I hated him more than ever.
“Move towards him and I will use this on you again,” Maria's husband whispered harshly into my ear. He must have had a tazer. Then, softer, he said, “Contain your anger. There will be a time for revenge. Trust Maria.”
His last words were not soothing, but he did make me realize that futility of struggle. I had apparently missed the exchange of niceties between the Clan elders and Josh. Now, I strained to hear what business Josh had for them.
“...I came alone, but my pack is available to me at any time. We are small but very organized. Our territory stretches from Oregon to Alaska.” His voice was as smooth and strong as I remembered from a year ago.
Maria blinked. “You've left the mainland?”
“Yes.”
An older man I knew as Simon snorted and added his thickly-accented words to the conversation. “It is against Clan law to leave the Americas. We are banished to this continent.”
A melee of voices joined in with his comment, some agreeing, some complaining. I only had eyes for Josh and his reactions though. He was entirely too cool. Breaking the Clan's Laws entitled him to severe punishment. He had just stupidly admitted his defiance to their decrees. But I knew Josh. Something else was afoot.
Then, as if she had been conducting meetings between bickering old men for all her life (which she probably had), Maria slammed a wiry hand on the table. “Gentlemen,” she said sharply. “Let us listen to this young man.” She turned back to Josh. “Surely you have a reason to defy us and ask for death?”
Josh spread his hands in supplication. “Senhora, I would not have willingly put my pack in such danger.” His words trickled out like water, as if rehearsed.
Maria prompted him, as if she knew the skit, too. “And what, tell me, made you go then? You do not seem like an overtly foolish young ma
n.”
I leaned forward in anticipation. Maria's husband mimicked my move, making sure I was not trying to escape. But I was interested. I had not known about the traveling restrictions placed on the Clan.
Josh cleared his throat, but it was not a sign of nervousness. “We were driven out by a mad, murderous Lycanthrope Slayer. He pursued us to the shores of Washington and we had no choice but to flee. There are no issued warrants for my pack. He hunted us due to his own malicious intent. I believe he might be unbalanced.”
Maria blanched. “A rogue Lycanthrope Slayer hunting Lycanti without the Council's order? That's impossible.”
“I assure you, it's not,” Josh insisted. He turned back to me and flashed a brilliant grin. I growled deep in my throat. He ignored me and instead turned back to Maria, looking solemn once more. “In fact,” Josh said, pitching his voice to reach everyone in the room, “You are harboring him at this moment, here at your compound.”
The council reduced to the din of Elder voices once again. The cries of indignation kindled their aged voices with a fire of pure Lycanthrope fury. I heard several snarls directed at Josh's impudence and accusation.
“You had best explain yourself quickly,” Maria yelled at Josh. “Or you will not live to insult our loyalty to Clan law again.”
“Oh certainly,” Josh replied in that self-serving, smooth tone. “But surely you knew when he came here with that treacherous bitch Emily in tow that Luka must be out of his mind.”
Rage gurgled at the back of my throat. I fought against Maria's husband but damn it, if that bastard didn't fucking knock me out with electricity again. And it seems like a convenient ploy to avoid having to deal with the reality of the situation, but so much seems to happen when I'm out cold—including deals between the devils who control the destiny of my child and myself.
“Are you willing to behave like a civil being now? Even you Lycanti half breeds should know your manners.”
Maria’s voice dripped with acid, and in my slowly awakening state, she seemed to have sprouted a third eye and fangs. I shook my head to clear it. Unfamiliar walls surrounded me, but my vision cleared and Maria was no more of a demon than I was a hero. My tongue felt thick in my mouth; they had untied me, but my limbs felt so heavy that I might as well have been bound. In a great rush, all the reasons I came to Mexico fell upon me.