by Anne Bishop
“Not much different from humans that age. How often do your adults give in?”
When Simon didn’t answer, Montgomery grinned. “That’s what I thought. I guess Wolves and my mama have some things in common when it comes to raising children.”
Put that way, it explained why the Wolves treated Miss Twyla more like one of their own than like a human.
They watched Skippy flop down and put his front paws around the bowl. He gave the remaining ice cream a lick, then looked at Miss Twyla.
Montgomery laughed softly. “Oh, there are the big sad eyes. Lizzy tries that look on me every so often. Hard for me to say no to that look, even when I know giving in would be bad for both of us, but Mama is made of sterner stuff. Every grandkid has tried that look, and every grandkid has failed.”
They stood in the doorway, watching, until Miss Twyla turned her head and looked right at them.
“Are you two going to keep gawking, or are you going to get some work done?”
“That’s our cue,” Montgomery said under his breath before he raised his voice enough to be heard. “We were just leaving, Mama.”
Simon strode out of the Market Square with Montgomery but said nothing until they were out of sight. “I am the leader of the Courtyard. I’m the one who makes decisions.”
“Yes, you are.” Montgomery waited a beat. “You going to tell her that?”
He growled. “Maybe I’ll send a memo to her too.”
Montgomery just laughed.
• • •
Late that evening, when the Market Square stores had all closed, Vlad walked to the back of Erebus Sanguinati’s mausoleum, where Grandfather and Leetha waited for him.
“Simon will be here in a few minutes,” he told them. The Wolf had been a little confused, to say nothing of wary, about being asked to have this discussion in the Chambers. After all, it was only the second time since Simon took over the Lakeside Courtyard years ago that he’d been invited inside the black wrought-iron fences that marked the boundaries of the Sanguinati’s part of the Courtyard.
“Why does he need to be involved?” Leetha asked.
Vlad studied the female who had relocated here when the terra indigene abandoned the Toland Courtyard. She was an intelligent, beautiful hunter. Not in Stavros’s league as a predator, or his, or even Nyx’s, but deadly nonetheless.
“Simon Wolfgard is the leader of this Courtyard,” Vlad replied.
“And why is that with Grandfather residing here?” she challenged. “The Sanguinati always rule the Courtyards in prominent human cities. While this city isn’t as significant as some of the cities we rule on the East Coast, it’s still a major port on the Great Lakes.”
“The Sanguinati support the Wolfgard here.” Vlad felt his temper sharpen.
“Enough.” Erebus’s snarled command was directed at both of the younger Sanguinati, but he had turned toward Leetha to make it clear that she was the provocation. “It was decided many years ago that shifter forms were better suited to lead Courtyards in certain areas of Thaisia, just as we were better suited to rule the large urban cities and coastal towns.”
“Then why . . . ,” Leetha began.
“Perhaps the Sanguinati ruled in Toland so long they began to think of other terra indigene as subordinates rather than strong predators whose ancestors chose a different shape that better fit the other predators and prey where they lived. Your attitude displeases me, Leetha.”
She looked stunned. “I—I’m sorry, Grandfather. I didn’t mean to give offense.”
“Then learn. Simon and Vladimir are friends. They work together, live as neighbors, have fought well together. There is true cooperation in this Courtyard, not just an agreement to work together to defend against the human infestation as is the case in so many Courtyards. And that cooperation has opened up opportunities for all the terra indigene. Tolya now rules a Midwest town, a rustic place compared to Toland, but the Sanguinati have a foothold in a part of Thaisia as never before—because Tolya was willing to work with the Wolfgard and other shifters in the area.”
“So isolated,” she whispered.
Vlad studied Leetha. Was there a hint of fear in her voice? Tolya, and the Sanguinati he had selected to join him in running Bennett and some of the town’s important businesses, seemed to be thriving. But unlike the Wolves, who usually hunted four-legged animals and liked living in the wild country, the Sanguinati were better suited as urban predators, with humans being the preferred prey. That wasn’t as easy to do when you knew everyone in a small town—and they knew you. That was one reason the Sanguinati preferred using larger human cities as their hunting grounds.
The other reason was that, in larger human cities, his kind didn’t often deal directly with terra indigene like the Elders.
“If you cannot accept Simon as leader, perhaps you would rather be living in Talulah Falls,” Erebus continued. “It is under Stavros’s rule now.”
“No.” Leetha’s tone made it clear that she didn’t want to answer to Stavros.
Interesting. Vlad knew Stavros had agreed to rule Talulah Falls so that he would be close enough to present himself as a potential mate the next time Nyx came into season. Had he turned away from Leetha’s invitation the last time she was in season, unwilling to become the mate of a female who wasn’t his first choice? Or perhaps Stavros, who could poke fun at his own kind, had sensed on some level that he and Leetha would not suit each other once the physical mating concluded.
And, in truth, Talulah Falls was even smaller than Lakeside and in far more turmoil, as terra indigene and even some Intuits moved into the town to join the remaining humans in keeping the power plant and other necessary businesses running.
It suddenly occurred to him that both Stavros and Tolya had seen the possibility of working in a mixed community because of their visits here.
He looked at Grandfather Erebus. “Simon is here.”
“Open the gate for him, Vladimir.”
“Not necessary.”
The fence that defined the Chambers wasn’t tall, wasn’t trying to keep anyone out. Anyone who entered uninvited didn’t leave. But maybe leaping over the fence to join them was Simon’s way of telling Leetha, and any other Sanguinati who might be in doubt, that he was, in fact, the leader of the Courtyard and he respected their boundaries by choice.
“Wolfgard.” Erebus tipped his head in the slightest bow.
Erebus smiled. “The sweet blood knows how much I enjoy watching my old movies.”
Leetha looked at Grandfather, then at Simon.
Yes, Vlad thought. The sweet blood is the link between our kind and Simon’s. We would not have come this far this fast if she hadn’t stumbled into the Courtyard. Some of us would not have survived the recent conflicts with humans. Even with her warnings, some of us didn’t survive.
“Tell the Wolfgard what you heard,” Erebus said, waving a hand toward Leetha.
“A couple of us followed Cyrus Montgomery earlier this evening,” Leetha said. “The bus station and downtown bus stops are good hunting grounds, especially after dark. And businesses that stay open later than the police recommend are also prime hunting grounds. Lights are lowered and the door is locked, but the patrons who come in before the official closing aren’t asked to leave.” She smiled, showing a hint of fang. “The owners tend to li
ve above the business and don’t really care what happens to the customers when they make their way home.”
“I don’t like him.”
“Yes. He met with four men. He’s going to case the Market Square tomorrow to confirm the earth native trucks are making a meat delivery. When the stores close for the evening, he’ll call the men. They’ll slip into the Courtyard, break into the butcher shop, and steal all the meat. You Wolves will howl about the loss, but all you’ll do is hunt a couple extra deer to make up for it.”
Challenge, plain and simple. A Wolf couldn’t win a fight with a Sanguinati who was in smoke form, but Simon must have heard something in Leetha’s voice that he wouldn’t allow to go unchallenged.
“Leetha?” Grandfather Erebus’s voice was quiet—and more threatening because of that. “The Wolfgard asked you a question.”
A hesitation, but they all knew her answer would determine if she was allowed to remain in Lakeside.
“Cyrus Montgomery said those words,” she finally replied. “The words were said sneeringly, as if you deserved no respect.”
Simon didn’t move, didn’t reply.
“Simon?” Vlad said. “What do you want to do? How do you want to stop them?”
Simon stared at him as if Henry had given him a brain-rattling swat and that’s why he would ask such a silly question.
Vlad suddenly realized why Leetha was having trouble accepting a Wolf as the Courtyard’s leader. She’d observed Simon dealing with the female and police packs. She’d seen him with Meg, who brought out his playful side. But she didn’t take into account that there was a reason he was dominant over strong Wolves like Blair and Nathan, didn’t take into account what it meant to have a Harvester like Tess living among them. She hadn’t really seen Simon yet.
“What reason?” he asked.
CHAPTER 18
Sunsday, Messis 21
Jimmy waited until the lunch crowd thinned out before he meandered over to the Market Square. Wouldn’t do to run into Mama or CJ. Wouldn’t do to run into any of the bitches who spied on other people for the freaks. But three of them were sitting at one of those umbrella tables, eating salads like that crap was real food. He recognized the two women living in the apartments with the cops—Ruth and Merri-something—but he didn’t recognize the third one, a black-haired girl who was wearing a big gauzy shirt despite the heat.
She looked vaguely familiar, like he’d seen her in passing. Didn’t matter. Couldn’t be much of anything interesting about her if she was hanging around with the other two.
He wanted to take a look at what had arrived at the butcher shop that morning, needed to tell his crew what they could expect. He resented having to buy fresh meat. Sandee would cook it to the point of being inedible—the bitch could mess up spreading peanut butter and jelly on bread—but he needed a reason to be there instead of buying prepared food at Meat-n-Greens or A Little Bite.
Going into the butcher shop, he confirmed there was no bell on the door to be making noise that might carry late at night. Nothing fancy about the lock either. Shit, even Clarence could pick that lock inside a minute.
He waited near the door, but the shopkeeper seemed intent on talking to one of the male bloodsuckers who were squatting in the apartment above his.
“Delivery of special meat will be arriving tonight,” the shopkeeper said. “Rarely get it anymore. That’s why I’m not posting a sign, just passing the word.”
“How much is being delivered?” the vampire asked.
“Not sure. That’s why I can’t guarantee you’ll get a particular cut, but I’m making a list of anyone who is interested in receiving a bit.”
The vampire glanced at Jimmy, then turned away but didn’t lower his voice quite enough. “You going to let the humans reserve some of the special meat?”
The shopkeeper laughed quietly. “Nah. I’m not going to mention it to any of them. If there is any left over after I fill our orders, I’ll sell it to the humans, but it isn’t likely there will be anything left.”
The vampire nodded. “Put us down for a piece. Don’t want to miss out on a delicacy.”
Jimmy barely contained his excitement as the vampire walked out, leaving him alone with the shopkeeper. Special meat. Delicacy. Hot damn, they’d picked the perfect night to empty the butcher shop.
“Afternoon.” He gave the shopkeeper a big smile. “I was hoping to buy some meat for the family’s dinner.”
The shopkeeper waved at the glass counter. “What I’ve got is here. If you want a quick meal, I’ve got slices of cooked meatloaf with gravy today. Was made fresh this morning. By a human.”
On any other day, he would have tried to buy a whole meatloaf, figuring to sell or trade half of it. But he didn’t want the freaks looking at him too hard today—and he didn’t want them whining to CJ or that bastard Burke about him taking more than could be eaten at one meal.
“I’ll take three slices,” he said. When the shopkeeper raised eyebrows that had more brown feathers than hair, he added, “The kids won’t be able to eat more than half a slice each, not when they’ll be having their vegetables too.”
Three slices went into one of those containers customers were expected to wash and bring back. Jimmy made the purchase and walked out. He kept his pace leisurely, even waved to the three bitches who were finishing up their meals.
Sandee was out when he got back to the apartment, and the brats were out too, so he heated one slice of meatloaf, then another half for his own meal. Having put the rest in the refrigerator, he spent the afternoon sitting on the porch waiting for nightfall.
• • •
Meg hung up her gauzy shirt in the back room of the Liaison’s Office, then went into the bathroom to splash some water on her face, brush her teeth, and pee. Euphemisms, she had learned, were wasted on Wolves. As soon as Nathan returned from his own midday break, he would sniff around the back room and be able to report exactly what she’d done, so what was the point of saying anything else? She’d tried the whole “I’m going to powder my nose” thing once, but every Wolf she knew had come around trying to sniff her face to be able to identify the scent of this powder.
Even with Merri Lee’s and Ruth’s help, she couldn’t convince the Wolves there was no powder until Simon confirmed that, in some stories, “powder the nose” meant peeing. Then Katherine Debany ruined it later that afternoon by taking out a compact and actually powdering her nose within Elliot’s sight. Naturally, Elliot informed Blair and Nathan—and Simon—and the whole “let me smell your face” routine started all over again.
She found Nathan in the front room, already stretched out on the Wolf bed. He yawned at her, showing off all his teeth. She wasn’t fooled. He only looked lazy and half-asleep. Any deliveryman who believed the ruse and acted inappropriately discovered how fast a Wolf could move—and just how much damage those teeth could do.
“Merri Lee, Ruth, and I had an excellent lunch,” she told him. “It was a salad made from fresh greens and garden vegetables with the last chunks of leftover turkey and hard-boiled egg, along with a variety of mini muffins we bought from Nadine. What about you? Did you have a good lunch?”
Nathan made a hopping motion with one paw.
“Fresh bunny,” she translated. “Yum.” Then remembering that he might misinterpret that as a request, she added, “Yum for you.”
Returning to the sorting room, she considered what to do with her afternoon until it was time to make her deliveries. The mail was already sorted an
d out with the ponies; her packages were organized on a cart so that she could load—and unload—the BOW efficiently as she made her rounds. She already had the library books she was delivering to the girls at the lake.
Meg blew out a breath. She could write a note to Jean or Hope or Barb Debany, or even to Jesse Walker in Prairie Gold. She could read one of the books she’d taken out of the library. Normally the thought of doing those things gave her pleasure, but now she felt restless, uneasy. Not prickling, not the pins-and-needles feeling that warned of something about to happen. It was more subtle than that, but it made her a little queasy.
Taking her box of prophecy cards out of the drawer, she opened the box and rested her fingertips lightly on the cards. But she didn’t have a question, didn’t even have a clue what to ask. She’d told Nathan about her lunch, he told her about his, and . . .
Sharp prickles filled her fingertips. She closed her eyes and chose the cards that produced the sharpest prickles. With her eyes still closed, she turned the cards over in the order she chose them.
She opened her eyes, studied the cards . . . and called Merri Lee.
“Can you duck out for a couple of minutes? It’s important.”
“I have a customer,” Merri Lee replied. “Let me finish with him, and then I’ll run over.”
A few minutes later, they were both staring at the three cards on the sorting table.
“So, what was the question?” Merri Lee finally asked.
“I’m not sure. When I choose three cards, it’s subject, action, and result.”
“All three of these are food cards. Okay, one shows a table full of breads, dairy products, and bowls of fruit; one shows a feast with cooked meats and vegetables; and one shows animals that are considered food.” Merri Lee frowned. “Are you still feeling the prickles?”
Meg shook her head. “But something is going to happen that concerns food.”
“Doesn’t look like it’s about a lack of food.”