“Her whole world. Made of lies,” he said after a long silence.
“I know.” Silver looked at Death. She’d lost her names for the moment, and now she couldn’t find the right words. Did the Lady herself have the right words for this situation? It hurt worse than her shoulder to see the agony those cats were putting him through. Death sat tall and said nothing.
“Did you see the way she looked—” His voice broke. “The way she looked at me?”
“I did.” Silver chased words through her thoughts like one might chase a winter rabbit with the last of one’s starving strength. They eluded her. So she stayed with Dare, and let her presence do what little it could.
* * *
Andrew lost track of time until Silver joined him. It felt like an hour, but if he was honest with himself, it had probably been about twenty minutes. His thoughts spiraled down, repeating themselves as they worked deeper into despair. What now? What little hope he’d had for reuniting with Felicia, crushed. And crushed by her. If he fought, he’d be fighting her, and he’d lose either way. He couldn’t stand it.
But having Silver there reminded him the world held things other than him and his daughter, and it was only about fifteen more minutes before he drew in a shuddering breath and pushed to his feet.
They’d lied to his daughter? Fine. Their mistake was letting him see her. He’d tell her his side of the story over and over, whether she believed him or not.
He helped Silver up and finally noticed the way her eyes couldn’t seem to focus on anything but him. Worse than usual. She’d called him Andrew, he remembered in a flash of clarity. The only other time she’d called him by his first name had been when she’d briefly allowed back her memories from before the silver-poisoning. Selene, she’d been. He doubted he could ever understand the depth of the effort it had taken her to do that, and now she’d done it for him again.
“Selene?” he asked, and cupped her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
The muscles pulled under his hand as she gave him a minimalist smile. “Not precisely. I didn’t need all of her, just a name.” She turned away, the “and I don’t want to talk about it any more than that” as clear as if she’d spoken. “I think the others want to talk to you, if you’re up to it.”
Now that Andrew paid attention, the sounds and smells of a small army and food in the living room were clear. These cabins were terrible for holding overlapping scents, so he hadn’t noticed the newcomers among the traces remaining from earlier in the day. Andrew considered staying in his room, but only for a moment. Hiding wouldn’t help anything, even though his control seemed to shred into even finer pieces each time he tried to gather it. Madrid wouldn’t be out there, he reminded himself. It smelled like just the Seattle contingent and Benjamin.
“You’re hungry,” Silver declared, and towed him out by the hand. “Everyone else is having dinner, after all.”
Andrew might have laughed in other circumstances. That had always been his mother’s solution to emotional upheaval in the pack. Silver had proved several times before that it worked, much better than he thought it should. A plate piled high with lukewarm burgers sat on the kitchen table, presumably stolen from the catered dinner at the hall. Everyone in the room had one in hand already. Susan had apparently made it back all right and been told the story, because she nodded to Andrew in awkward sympathy and took Edmond and her burger to her bedroom.
Laurence stood by the door. He must have been invited by someone, but Andrew could guess why whoever it had been had taken the initiative. Laurence held his shoulders hunched as if expecting an attack. Andrew knew Rory had been taking his frustrations out on his beta, but the fact that the man was unconsciously on guard for it even now was an even worse sign. The moment he saw Andrew notice him, he launched into an apology.
“Rory kept the delegation secret until the very last minute, and then he was always watching us, it seemed like. I had no idea who the girl was either, I swear on the Lady. She mostly kept quiet, out of the way. Let Ginnie follow her around. I should have broken away to come find you anyway—”
Andrew cut Laurence off with a gesture. “What’s done is done.” He went and got a burger, made himself finish it before he said anything else. His next, he bothered to open the bun for condiments. “Raul would have come up with some other way to control you if necessary. That’s how he works.”
Silver stole the mustard for her burger before he could reach it. He managed a thin smile at the teasing. Dammit, of all the people in the Madrid pack, the one he least wanted to go up against was Raul. For all he’d lived with the pack for half a decade, he still had no idea what Raul wanted personally. His methods for getting what he wanted, sure. But his motivation, his likely endgame? Andrew had no idea.
“You know them well?” Benjamin asked. He had a plate balanced on his knees and was cutting his burger into pieces with a knife and fork.
“Mm.” Andrew squirted mustard on his bun before he answered in more depth. He outlined what he knew of Arturo and Raul’s personalities. Laurence nodded when he finished. It was a relief to have verification that the men hadn’t changed too much since Andrew had known them.
Benjamin chewed in silence for a few seconds. “This has to be more than just revenge on Dare. It coincides so perfectly with when an ineffective North American alpha seems likely to be deposed by a pair of extremely effective ones.”
Andrew had serious questions about his effectiveness at the moment, given how he’d let Madrid get to him, but he let that pass. Compared to Rory, half the alphas on the continent would be more effective, and he had Silver. “What does Europe care how strong North American alphas are?”
Benjamin laughed without much humor. He aligned his knife and fork on his empty plate and set it on a side table. “I remember when Roanoke first united. Rumor said the Europeans all but pissed themselves. In Europe, uniting packs and territory means an empire is being built. Empires come looking for their neighbors. European packs have tried to gain power and territory over here often enough before, no wonder they expect us to do the same. Roanoke left them alone for two generations, but now it looks like more than just Roanoke might end up united in North America.”
“What, they’re afraid of me pulling in Western packs?” Andrew scrubbed his face. “They must be pretty paranoid to think I could herd that set of cats anywhere.”
“You underestimate yourself, Dare.” Benjamin’s lips turned up in a slight smile. “Madrid had a chance to observe you for several years, did he not? Perhaps he saw something of what the rest of us see in you. And now you have a partner.”
Andrew stared at Benjamin. That was flattering, but he would have expected Benjamin to be more pragmatic. Perhaps the Europeans did fear a united North America, but the Western packs were too independent for that. After his time out here, Andrew knew them better than Benjamin did.
Andrew waved all the speculation away. “Whatever it is that scared them, we’re never going to convince them an empire isn’t our intention. You can’t prove a negative.”
Benjamin shrugged. “We’ll have to just get rid of them. The easiest thing to do would be to have one of the Western alphas move to exclude Europeans from the Convocation, and send them home.”
“Michelle would do it,” John said, first few words hard to understand until he swallowed his mouthful. “If we asked her.”
Andrew swallowed his first panicked denial. He wanted to sound logical, not off-balance. He needed this with a desperation that made him feel almost shaky. He took a deep breath. “But that needs to wait until I’ve had time to talk to Felicia. Then we can kick them out.”
“No.” Benjamin didn’t hesitate. “You think just because you tell her the truth, she’ll smell it and believe you? She’s had her relatives lying to her for years. She didn’t disbelieve that, she’s not going to believe you, no matter how you smell.
“And the more you push her, the more you ensure that she’ll stay set against you.” He held up two pa
lms pressed flat against each other, and pushed until his muscles shook. Then he dropped one and let the other rebound forward with the sudden lack of pressure. “Don’t push. Don’t talk to her, don’t let her see you. She’ll be so confused, she’ll seek you out, and then you’ll have your best chance.”
Andrew set his burger down and then clenched his hands. Easy for Benjamin to say. But this was the first chance he’d had in a decade, and even if it was only a false hope, it was a chance. She was here. He could talk to her. Even if it didn’t work, he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t at least make the attempt. If he waited like Benjamin said, she might be gone again, never to return. “She’s my daughter. I have to try, Boston.”
Laurence hesitated and then moved away from the door as Andrew pushed to his feet and strode to it. John placed himself in the way. “He’s right, Dare. You’re still dancing to their tune.”
“I know!” Andrew realized he was shouting, but couldn’t make himself stop. He had to make them understand. “And that doesn’t matter. I need to do this. If you’re going to get them kicked out, I have to do it now.” He put his hand on John’s shoulder, wrestled his volume under control. “Don’t make this a fight, please.”
A muscle jumped in John’s clenched jaw. It seemed that had been the right tack, to request rather than attack so John could meet force with force. With the lightened resistance, some of the pressure eased off Andrew’s chest. He could talk to her.
“I’m getting tired of this, Dare.” Silver put her hand on her hip. The anger in her voice sounded more like a way to get his attention than a real emotion, but there was a hint of the real thing in her expression. “Just because you’re hurting doesn’t give you permission to demand we stand by while you gnaw off your own leg to get out of the trap. Think, stop reacting.”
“No.” Andrew whirled to face her. None of them understood! Some part of him knew it was the wrong thing to do, but he had to do something. If he didn’t channel this raw emotion into action he’d explode. He’d managed to not attack Raul, so this was his only option remaining. “Lady’s light, Silver. I need to do this.”
“No, you don’t.” Silver grabbed a handful of his shirt to pull him closer and went on tiptoes. She locked eyes with him.
Andrew had measured the strength of her dominance before, but he’d never fought it. He didn’t want to fight it now, knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but now that it was right in front of him he couldn’t seem to stop. He met Silver’s gaze and strength, and she matched him every step of the way, until he was pouring so much effort into the struggle that a shift came close to the surface.
It did for Silver too, only she didn’t have a shift. It was like a slow-motion landslide, danger you could watch happen, but never stop. Her back arched and her muscles tightened toward a seizure. Andrew broke the struggle instantly, caught her as her muscles released and she stumbled. The others jerked forward, but settled back when they saw Andrew had her.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed into her neck. When her arm came around his back he felt a subtle shake to it. He repeated it over and over. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Silver.” He realized now how apt her analogy had been: he was pushing away his friends so that he could have the space to hurt himself even worse.
“Just don’t do it again,” Silver said with a ragged laugh. She buried her face against the side of his neck, and lifted her fingers to lace into his hair. “Stay with me tonight, hm? I’m sure we can find something to do to pass the time, so the thoughts don’t devour you.”
She nipped him, and Andrew started. “But you’re hurt,” he protested, as the heat of her feminine scent right against him warred with his desperation. The two more or less canceled each other out, until Silver’s hand wandered south, hidden from the others by how they were standing. The distraction would be so, so welcome if he gave himself up to it. But— Andrew tried to finish that sentence. It was difficult, since there were other things competing for his attention. They shouldn’t, should they? But if Silver wanted to—
Silver laughed, husky. Andrew gave in and lifted her to carry her to the bedroom.
24
Susan put Edmond down once the voices in the living room quieted enough for him to fall asleep. She’d missed pieces of it here and there, but the walls were thin enough she’d gotten the gist to add to what John had told her when he and the others arrived from the hall in Andrew’s wake.
She picked up her book and stared at the pages without comprehending the words for a little while after the voices stopped to make sure she wouldn’t disrupt anything. She figured things were emotionally fraught as it was without adding her presence to the mix of people trying to talk Andrew down.
A giggle reached her through the wall of the adjoining bedroom. Susan almost laughed herself. That was another way to talk Andrew down. She pushed off the bed, checked Edmond, and let herself out.
The living room was empty. When she opened the front door, the edge bumped into the back of someone sitting on the front step. “Oof,” John said, tone suggesting it was more to identify himself than protest injury.
She turned sideways to slip out without opening the door any farther. He scooted over to give her room to sit beside him. She sat in silence for a while, until her thoughts had built up to a pressure she had to voice. “I can’t even imagine what it must be like for him, seeing his daughter like that—” She frowned at the horizon, trying to follow the outline of pine branches between the cabins opposite them. The lack of moon made it hard to tell tree from sky. The division coalesced as her eyes adjusted. The despair in Andrew’s voice when he’d insisted he needed to talk to his daughter made her throat squeeze even now.
“I think I can. But I’d rather not.” John frowned out at the horizon too.
Susan looked over at him, and reached up to smooth a cowlick at his crown. The uncertain light from the weak porch bulb made his face look shadowed and older. “How old is Dare?” she asked.
John turned his head to meet her gaze in surprise. “What?”
Susan zipped her fingernail along the threads in the knee of her jeans. “I’ve been trying to do the math. It’s hard to tell with the hair making him look older, but I’d have said he was early thirties or something. Felicia looks around fifteen, so that would be awfully young to be starting a family. You said he was a decade older than you. So he’s really forty?” Of course it didn’t matter how old Andrew had been when he’d had his daughter, but something in Susan wanted to understand him better now. Had the girl been the product of young love, or mature planning? Had she been an accident, like Edmond had been?
John looked away. For a long time it seemed like he wasn’t going to answer, which was strange. What did it matter? Did he think she was prying into Andrew’s private life? They were all watching part of it now, whether they liked it or not.
“So far as I know, he’s in his early fifties. You’ll have to ask him if you want the exact number.”
Susan blinked. She hadn’t thought he was that old. Her mind turned the fact over and over, trying to fit it and Andrew’s appearance together and failing. Then the next connection sparked, and she subtracted ten years. She stared at John. “You told me you were thirty-two!” She frowned, searching her memory. Yes, she had seen his driver’s license, when they’d gone to that bar on the second date. “I saw your license.”
“I showed it to you on purpose.” John let his hand fall to the wood of the step, tapped fingertips in his usual nervous fidget. “We have a guy who makes us IDs to match our appearance every decade or so.”
“So you’re—”
“Forty.” Tap, tap. John wouldn’t look at her.
Susan stared at a point in the gravel in front of her, tracing the line of a particularly white chunk against the darkness as she grappled with the idea. She’d never have imagined herself with someone that much older than her at this stage of her life, but then John didn’t act that old. So did it matter, then? They were both adults. Fifteen
years difference was hardly an eon. Susan almost laughed at herself. What was she doing, worrying about being lied to about eight years of age, when she’d been lied to at first about the very existence of supernatural creatures? Somehow, an age difference was something she could wrap her head around to get upset about.
Then it hit her: if Were aged slower, what about their son? How would he age? He was hitting all the milestones faster except the ones to do with talking. “Edmond—”
John looked up and took her hand. “He won’t grow any different than you’d expect. It’s about mid-twenties when things get out of synch. Tom’s as young as he looks.” He seemed so relieved to find one thing he could reassure her about Susan had to suppress a half-hysterical laugh.
“So Silver’s—?” Susan suddenly felt desperate to know everything. How much was there left to stumble onto about these people? “How long do you guys live?”
“Silver’s thirty-one— No. Thirty-two. Her brother was definitely three years younger than me and they had five years between them.” A long pause. “We can live to maybe one eighty if we’re lucky. Hard to tell. Most in previous generations fell to hunters long before that.”
Susan considered that with sudden horror. If they aged so slowly, she’d be growing old while he was still— Enough. She pushed the thought away. Right now she had to worry about tomorrow’s trial. She could worry about decades from now later.
“I didn’t mean to hide that specifically.” John’s words tumbled out. Even though she’d decided to set the issue aside for now, Susan let the silence stretch to see what might slip out as he sweated. It had worked before, and Lord knew he deserved all that sweating and more for keeping this information from her.
“I wanted to pretend absolutely everything else was normal, when I first told you. More than just keeping you safe, I valued your outside perspective in my life. Then when Silver showed up, and everything started falling apart, I lost track of it, and there was so much everyone was telling you all the time, it got lost in the shuffle…”
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