Pack of Lies

by Edwards, Hailey

  The easy way he told the story, as if he had been there to witness the birth of a species, froze my tongue.

  “Natisha returned to Faerie alone, and Archimedes—her warg lover—remained on Earth to raise their offspring and establish his own pack, where their children would be free of persecution. Over time, other gwyllgi from Faerie visited his pack to witness the curiosity of it, sometimes leaving pregnant lovers behind, which strengthened the Kinase pack magic and fueled the spread of other earthborn gwyllgi packs throughout this world.” Bishop pointed at the ceiling, as if punctuating the end of his speech. “That is your boyfriend’s origin story, kid.”

  A migraine set up camp behind my left eye, and I felt every spike from the tent stakes getting hammered in. “So what you’re telling me is Natisha might have a bone to pick with Tisdale, and her pack.”

  “Archimedes is dust, and so are their children, but fae memory—pack memory—is a different beast. Natisha might be stewing in her den in Faerie, spending her time devising ways to punish Archimedes, without noticing he’s long gone. He was a warg, no fae in him. He lived longer than a human, but he still died, and she may not grasp that.”

  “She’s been here at least twice in Midas’s lifetime alone. How could she not understand he’s dead?”

  “You know how old humans can go senile?” He shrugged. “Old fae have the same problem. Except there are no nursing homes in Faerie. They’re left to live on their own, do what they will, and everyone hopes the next house they set on fire convinced their lover is having an affair is their neighbor’s and not theirs.”

  To borrow from him, I quoted, “That’s oddly specific.”

  “I had a firebug for a girlfriend once.”

  Uncertain if that was a classification of fae or what, I let it go. “This would be so much easier to understand if you people spoke in straight lines.”

  “You people?” He sucked in a breath, hand on his heart. “Now my feelings are hurt.”

  “Please. I get called corpse-raiser as a term of endearment, and Midas routinely tells me I’m not funny.”

  “Life gets complicated, huh? You leave the door cracked, and the floodgates open.”

  “How do I keep from drowning?”

  “You’re a better friend than you think.” He puffed up, ready to argue when I shot him a quelling glance. “Whatever happened before, whoever you were then, you’re not her now. You’ve grown, changed.” He shook his head. “You came for me. You brought me home. Do you know how rare that is?”

  “You would have done the same for me.”

  “Damn straight, I would have, and Linus would have been right there beside me. Midas and Ford too.” He hesitated. “You inspire loyalty, the same as he does.” He meaning Linus. “You can’t be all bad if people want to follow your lead.”

  Unless it turned out I was the head lemming, leading them over the cliff and into the sea to their doom.

  “There’s one more thing.” He searched the futon mattress for the zipper and stuck his hand into the thick batting. “I solved your sleepwalking mystery.” He pulled out a square purse the size of his palm, its leather a weird pink shade. “It’s a gris-gris bag.”

  “How did they get it into my apartment?”

  Its unwelcome presence in my home explained why I had heeded its call at my apartment but not at the base.

  “They didn’t.” He lifted his hand, and the charm uncoiled from its braided thong. “Snowball hid it before her untimely demise.”

  “Why bother with subterfuge?” She had us all wrapped around her little finger there for a while. “She could have spun a lie to get me there.”

  “Best guess? She wanted to keep her paws clean. Let the gris-gris do the dirty work, and she could keep her spot on the inside with the pack. The intel she gathered as Midas’s right-hand woman would have been invaluable to their operation.”

  “I thought gris-gris were protective or for luck.”

  “Corrupt witches, corrupt magic.” He tucked it in his pocket. “They were luring you to the club. That was the idea. I’m guessing you have your ‘wraith’ to thank for it not working. He must have been snacking on its magics, which kept it from working properly. Either he got full, and it started messing with your mind, or it was rigged to go out with a bang, and the flare overwhelmed him and finally pushed you toward the club.”

  “Ambrose isn’t the saving the day type.”

  “I’m not saying you should trust him, but I am saying he was probably the only thing that kept you from walking into their trap. He woke you both times you stumbled into that alley. He might have taken his sweet time, but he got the job done.” He spotted my shadow on the wall doing a great Hadley impersonation. “The coven was thirteen strong. They got cocky. But with Iliana and Siemen pushing up daisies, the rest weren’t willing to tango with you while you were conscious. They couldn’t risk losing more members. I’d be willing to bet it was his idea to go up to Midas’s apartment. A cry for help, if you will.”

  Guess I owe you an apology, I thought to my darker half. You weren’t trying to kill us after all.

  Ambrose protecting me stretched my imagination too thin. It was easier to believe he had gotten snackish and was hiding his treat stash from me so I wouldn’t take it away from him than he cared whether I lived or died. Though, bound as we were, he might not get set free upon my death, ready to shop for a new host. He might die too. True death. Poof. Gone forever. That reality check had to smart.

  I was turning that over in my mind when the door pushed open, giving me a start.

  Expecting Midas, my heart did this stupid hop, flip, jump, and then went still.

  “Ford?” I shot to my feet, heart in my throat for a different reason. “How are you?”

  “Cured.” He walked in, spotted Bishop, and nodded to him. “I’m still throwing up…” He pinched his lips together like admitting it might summon more upset. “You don’t want to know.”

  “I’ll catch you later.” Bishop tousled my hair the way a sibling might. “Ford, I’m glad you lived to tell the tale.”

  “I’m sorry,” he began. “About everything.”

  “You’re fine.” Bishop waved it off. “These things happen.”

  Not really, but Ford and I both accepted the sentiment.

  “I’ll leave you kids with this happy thought.” Bishop mashed his lips into a thin line. “Having both of you here will save me from repeating myself. You’re both too plugged in to the community for the coven to take you over with any success. They couldn’t fake you for long, so that makes you liabilities instead of opportunities.”

  “Enter the Martian Roaches,” I realized. “They could fake us long enough to do minimal damage without costing the coven more members, and the end result is death. Neat and tidy.”

  “You’re not thinking big enough.” He exhaled slowly. “The incubation period is short, and you’re both gateways to major coven opposition in the city.”

  “They wanted us to spread the sickness through our people,” Ford growled, fists curling at his sides. “They wanted to wipe us out from the inside.”

  “Based on what I overheard, yeah. That’s my guess. The OPA would survive. There’s not enough contact between members for it to be an issue, but the pack?” Bishop shook his head. “They would be decimated within a matter of days.”

  “Gaining control of you would have changed that,” I said quietly. “You know all of us.”

  Full names, addresses, phone numbers. Next of kin, allergies, friends. Absolutely everything.

  Bishop pasted on a smile. “Then let’s be glad their magic didn’t stick.”

  “I had contact with others after I was…” Ford bit off the rest. “No one else got infected.”

  “No one we know of,” Bishop countered, and wasn’t that a reality check. “The cameras in the alley didn’t happen to turn themselves off on the days Hadley went wandering.”

  “You think the coven already has an inside man.” I rubbed my forehead.
“That’s…not great.”

  “No, kid, it’s not.” Bishop gave me a nod. “See you at dusk.”

  For reasons of his own, he left through the window rather than the front door. Then again, using the lobby meant walking a gauntlet for him and Ford with their disappearances fresh on the pack’s mind. I could see him wanting to avoid the stares and the whispers until he was back to one hundred percent.

  “Sit down.” I nudged Ford toward the futon. “You still look wobbly.”

  “As a colt trying out his legs for the first time,” he agreed and eased down. “I’m about to crash, but I had to stop in and say this.” He waited for me to sit beside him. “Thank you for all you did, for all you’re going to do, to save me.”

  Squirming on the spot, I wanted to blow off his thanks, but the words got stuck in my throat.

  “I’m glad you’re okay.” I took his hand. “We thought we’d lost you.”

  The we did it, put a fresh wrinkle in his brow. There hadn’t been a we before, not really.

  “The experience gave me fresh perspective for sure.” He cupped my cheek. “It’s made me realize I ought to fight harder for what I want and not put off today what might not happen if tomorrow never comes.”

  A twisting sensation writhed in my gut, and I eased back from him. “Ford…”

  “Can a fella get a goodbye kiss?” He searched my face. “I shouldn’t ask, but I’m going to do what I shouldn’t, just this once.”

  “Sure.” I seized control of the moment, leaning in and pressing my lips against his stubbly cheek. “There you go. One kiss as requested. I hope this isn’t goodbye, though.”

  “Farewell to a dream.” He lowered his hand, which he hadn’t moved from my cheek. “All that talk about fighting, and I’m already in retreat.”

  “You heard me when I said no. That’s not a retreat. You laid down your arms.” I winked. “Let’s call this a truce.”

  “I really do like you, Lee. More than that, I admire you.” He pushed to his feet. “It’s my luck you’d fall for my best friend instead of me.”

  “You’re a good man. You deserve someone you can take home to your momma with pride. That’s the mate I wish for you, the one you deserve.”

  “That’s what appeals to you about Midas?”

  He didn’t come right out and say Midas was broken, but it’s not like we both didn’t know.

  “Aside from his flowing locks and movie star good looks, you mean?”

  “I could go blond, maybe get a nose job.” He winked at me. “Nothing a glamour couldn’t cure.”

  “Midas…” I struggled how to put it into words. “He doesn’t want to like me, but he does. His life would be easier if he could stop, but he can’t. There are too many obstacles between us for this to ever work, but he keeps trying anyway.”

  “That sounds complicated.”

  “Our courtship is a complication I don’t need this year. And being with the future alpha? It’s terrifying. There are too many reasons to list why I ought to send him packing in six weeks then get back to my life and my plans.” I exhaled. “I had such simple goals when I got here. Now everything is upside down.”

  “If you don’t love him already,” he said, surprise plain on his face, “you’re headed in that direction.”

  “Does love feel like a headache?” I pointed to the center of my forehead. “About right here?”

  “Yeah.” He chuckled. “It often does.”

  “Will enough ibuprofen make it go away? Aspirin? Naproxen? Acetaminophen?”

  The headache or the maybe love, I wasn’t sure which I wanted gone.

  “Ah, no, darlin’.” He walked to the door. “What you got, there ain’t no cure for.”

  “Great.” I slumped down on the futon. “It’s always nice to hear a condition is terminal.”

  “Too soon.” He held up a hand. “Too soon.”

  “Sorry.” I winced. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  “You’ve had a busy few days.” He smiled warmly. “You’re allowed to not think for a while.”

  Ford left then, loaded down with takeout I shoved into his arms, and I spied Midas posted in the hall, ready to help his friend get where he was going.

  Midas had overheard the whole thing, gwyllgi hearing permitted nothing less, but he had issued Ford a free pass. Another one. But that was a battle for another day.

  Alone in my apartment, I grabbed a shower and washed the night out of my hair. I hadn’t been in pajamas long when the door opened yet again.

  Midas walked in with a bag slung over his shoulder, a pillow tucked under his arm, and a blanket fisted in his hand.

  “I got Ford settled in upstairs. Bishop volunteered an LPN, so she’ll be sitting with him.”

  “Bishop is a helpful guy.” I eyed Midas’s baggage. “Are you on your way to a sleepover, Goldie?”

  “You’re not braiding my hair.” He crossed to the futon and set down his things. “Or painting my nails.”

  “Then what fun are you?” I patted his mountain of belongings. “What’s going on here?”

  “During courtship, potential mates are encouraged to spend as much time together as possible.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  Hand curving around the strap on his bag, Midas made as if to lift it again. “I don’t have to stay.”

  “But you don’t want to go.”

  “Do you want me to go?”

  “Are you crazy?” I threw his pillow at him. “You’re the best big spoon I’ve ever had.”

  The compliment was silly and offhand, but it made him smile.

  Oh, yeah. He definitely thought I was funny. Clearly he had gone into denial to avoid outright hysterics.

  “I ordered dinner.” He caught the pillow and sat next to me. “Chinese, Japanese, and Thai.”

  “Hungry?”

  “I’m gwyllgi. What do you think?”

  “That I’m lucky you stopped biting me when you did?”

  “I could bite you again,” he offered, his gaze falling to my throat.

  “I’ve learned my lesson,” I lied. “I won’t be so literal next time.”

  Also a lie.

  “You could bite me.”

  The offer stumped me, the absolute last thing I expected from him. “Would you like me to?”

  Dropping his gaze to his pillow, he shrugged but didn’t say anything else.

  Biting was a dominance thing. Or that’s how I interpreted it. Between potential mates? Did it count as foreplay? Or was it another way of determining hierarchy? This time between us?

  “What if I don’t stop at one nibble? What if I gobble you down whole?”

  Another shrug, color flooding his cheeks.

  “Hmm.”

  He flicked a glance at me, face still hot, hands clenched in his pillow.

  Midas wanted this. He really wanted this. My teeth in his skin. Maybe even craved it. Until he bit me, he might not have realized how much. I didn’t have to understand the urge to satisfy it, not when leaving a mark of my own appealed to me on multiple levels.

  “Okay, Goldie.” I ripped the squished pillow from his arms, tearing away his flimsy barrier. “Remember, you asked for this.” Careful of his reaction, I straddled his lap, and I had to grin when his hands came to rest on my hips. “Do you have a preference?” I leaned in, brushed my lips over his. “Here?” Tracing the line of his jaw with my tongue, I raked my teeth over the tender spot beneath his ear. “Or here?”

  A powerful shudder rippled through him. His hands flexed, clenching tighter, and he rasped, “There.”

  Chill bumps rose under my tongue when I swirled it over his skin. “You mean here?”

  “Yes,” he panted, his hips restless beneath mine. “There.”

  “All right.” I linked my arms around his neck. “Since you asked so nicely.”

  Nuzzling the damp spot, I waited for his indrawn breath, until the dent from his fingertips promised bruises, then I bit him hard. I didn’t break the skin, didn’t draw bloo
d, and the slow punch of his breath leaving his lungs made me wonder if that hadn’t been a mistake. Gwyllgi were a physical, violent breed. I might have to learn to play rough if it kept his heart pounding where our chests met, his eyes cloudy with desire and want and need instead of ghosts and pasts and darkness.

  Smacking my lips, I pressed a gentle kiss to the hurt. “Tastes like chicken.”

  Midas wrapped his arms around me, holding me close, breathing me in, laughing because frak yeah, I was hilarious. “Are you sure you’re in this?”

  The mission or the relationship, he could have meant either. I didn’t ask for clarification. I stepped onto the edge of that same cliff, my hand in his, and trusted he would keep me from falling. “Yes.”

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  About the Author

  USA Today best-selling author Hailey Edwards writes about questionable applications of otherwise perfectly good magic, the transformative power of love, the family you choose for yourself, and blowing stuff up. Not necessarily all at once. That could get messy.

  www.HaileyEdwards.net

  Also by Hailey Edwards