Tribal Law

by Shannon Curtis

  “I don’t like it,” he said, his voice low and grating.

  “I know. I’ll be as quick as possible.” She backed out of the car before she gave into temptation and crawled into the backseat with the attractive not-such-a-murderer. Who drove a hatchback. She shook her head as she tucked the map into her pocket, drew on her gloves and took off into the undergrowth.

  When she was a good distance from the car, she paused beneath the overhanging fronds of a tree fern. The temperate rainforest was mainly wet and muddy, but the higher she trekked, the more snow she’d encounter, until she left the forest altogether. Now, the mountainside was eerily silent, the sun already beginning its descent past the peak. Her boot squelched in mud, and a cloud of white, thick fog was slowly descending. She wasn’t sure if the low visibility would work for her or not.

  She dug the map out of her pocket and surveyed it quickly. Territorial maps were notoriously inaccurate. Those who lived in the area knew it like the back of their paw, but they delighted in obscuring some hazards, even leaving some trails off the map entirely. No reason to give potential enemies access to secret roads and trails. Every tribe was like that, even some of the vampire colonies built in traps to the publicly released maps.

  But the one trail that was always guaranteed to be accurate was the one leading to the reception hall. Strangers were afforded minimal access for trade and treaty or tribunal discussions. That’s where she had to head. She could make public enquiries there as an officer of the law.

  She folded the map and crammed it back into her pocket, gazing around the area as she rose to her feet. Not a bird tweeted. There was no scamper of critters’ feet. A few hundred metres up the mountain was the end of the tree line and snow already covered the ground. She hoped the animals were simply in hibernation, and that there was no other reason for the creepy quiet.

  She took off running, the trees and shrubs becoming a green-and-brown blur as she sped through the forest.

  * * *

  Ryder tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, then glanced at his watch. Okay, that was long enough. He’d given her a good hour’s head start. Her arguments were sound—but he simply didn’t like the idea of Vassiliki walking unprotected into a den of werewolves.

  He slid out of the car, grabbed his jacket from the backseat, and hurriedly dressed. He was a light warrior. He didn’t sit and wait.

  He took off running in the direction Vassiliki had gone, consciously morphing his body’s outline. He dispersed light particles around his body, effectively becoming invisible as he ran. It didn’t take him long to pick up Vassiliki’s trail and he sped up in pursuit, a wavering shape that blended into his surroundings.

  * * *

  Vassi paused under a rocky outcrop. Her breath misted in front of her. It was freezing. She’d left the tree line a while ago, and it was a hard slog through the deep snowdrifts. Even for a half-blood vampire, this place was cold. She unscrewed the cap of one of the blood packs and sucked on the fluid inside.

  She swallowed thoughtfully, enjoying the metallic taste as it washed down her throat. She didn’t need to find Jared’s killer. She just needed to provide reasonable doubt. Unfortunately, Max’s case didn’t look so good. By his own admission, his actions directly caused the death of the alpha prime, no matter how unintended. Jared died in his surgery, under treatment. The crime lab could only detect Ryder’s fingerprints on any of the tools involved, on the mixing pot and the adhesive jar. Even the werewolf sniffer team hadn’t been able to detect any other contact.

  But what if Ryder was just a tool? A mechanism for murder? Who stood to gain from Jared’s death? She scrunched the blood pack and placed it inside a zip lock bag. She didn’t want any wolves tracking the smell of fresh blood.

  She dug a narrow, deep hole in the snow and buried the rubbish. She wasn’t too far from the reception hall. She hoped to be in and out by nightfall.

  She started to jog across the snowy mountain, bracing her hand occasionally against the steep rocky surface. She tried to do so sparingly—each contact was a scent point for a werewolf tracker. She was almost at the mouth of Howling Chasm when the snow exploded in front of her as a white wolf landed mere centimetres from the toes of her boots. She could feel his warm breath across her face as he bared his teeth in a snarl.

  Chapter Five

  Vassi froze, but couldn’t help the reflexive lengthening of her own fangs. “I’m an officer of the court,” she stated, keeping her voice calm, her eyes lowered to the furry chest of the wolf. Sunlight glinted on something around his neck, but she didn’t bother to try and figure out what was hidden by his fur coat. She didn’t want to provoke him. “I request permission to approach tribal reception.”

  The wolf prowled around her. Vassi remained still, her eyes on the disturbed snow in front of her as he brushed past her. He sniffed her, and she pursed her lips. Wolves liked to try and intimidate visitors. They invaded personal space, their presence intentionally domineering. She eventually swung her head around to glare at him. She’d dealt with many criminals, some of them very real monsters. She refused to be intimidated.

  “Finished?”

  The wolf nudged her, his snout shoving her between her shoulder blades. She plodded on through the snow with her silent, menacing escort. Every now and then he would stop and sniff the air, surveying the area around them with a wary stare, but each time he would eventually resume the journey.

  * * *

  Nearly an hour later, Vassi entered the Alpine Pack reception hall. It was a long narrow space cut into the side of the mountain. Lanterns hung from hooks lodged in the stone wall, casting a warm glow in some spots, leaving dark shadows in others. Sofas and seating nooks were placed along the edge of the hall, and several men and women lazed around, talking quietly—until they noticed her. Eventually, all conversation stopped.

  The wolf at her side morphed, and a tall, broad-shouldered man with short white-blond hair stood beside her, naked but for a chain around his neck that bore a smooth, gold ring. The pendant rested against his tanned, muscled chest. He took her arm and led her up the length of the hall, casually catching the pair of trousers that were thrown his way.

  When they reached the dais at the end, he pulled her to a stop. She kept her eyes straight ahead, ignoring him as he pulled the trousers on and zipped them. She couldn’t ignore the fact that he didn’t bother to button the fly, nor grab a shirt. Werewolves were notorious for being comfortable in their own skin and … fit. This one was very, very … fit.

  The main chair on the dais swung round, and a woman with long, tawny blond hair stared down at her. Her eyes narrowed.

  “Where is your client?”

  So they knew who she was. Could this be the alpha’s mate who’d attacked her and Max at his car? She tried to hide her surprise. It was highly unusual for an alpha prime’s mate to step into the role of acting alpha—but then, again, she’d seen the she-wolf in action. The bitch could definitely fight.

  “He’s not here, if that’s what you’re asking. I come on a fact-finding mission. As an officer of the court, I respectfully request treaty in the Alpine tribal jurisdiction.” Hopefully the banner of the court would provide enough protection in this werewolves’ den.

  The she-wolf bared her teeth, her eyes glowing. “You dare to request treaty, when you are defending the man who killed our alpha prime?” The words emerged from deep within her throat, almost as a growl.

  “My client claims he didn’t murder your alpha.”

  Several growls emanated from the hall, but she kept her gaze fixed on the woman on the dais. She cocked her head, and Vassi could see the gleam of curiosity as the glow in her eyes slowly banked.

  “Who are you?”

  “My name is Vassiliki Verity. I’m a lawyer.”

  “She’s a vamp,” the man next to her stated, his lip curling in distaste.

  “Half-blood,” she corrected him. He was a big man, even by lycan standards, with defined muscles and a scar across
his ridged abdomen. She remembered the scars of the man she’d left behind. The lycan was attractive, but it was her client’s body she wanted to stroke. Seraphina, on the other hand, would be all over this lycan in a blink. She turned back to the woman on the dais. “And you?”

  “I am Samantha.”

  Jared’s partner. Getting information from the Alpine wolves suddenly seemed much more difficult. That darn grey fog descended over the words again. “You strike me more as a Diana,” Vassi said, and the woman growled. She didn’t even move her lips, but the sound was clear in its warning.

  The she-wolf leaned forward in her chair, her eyes narrowing as she sniffed the air.

  “You’ve lain with him,” she stated, her tone accusing.

  Damn. She’d had a shower before they left, but apparently it wasn’t enough to rid his scent. “Not … quite.” They’d kissed on the bed, but that was it. She was trying to stay professional.

  The man next to her nodded. Great. So he’d known exactly who she was when he jumped out at her.

  “We’ve kissed.” There was no point in denying it, and she wanted them to see her as cooperative, not deceitful.

  “You came into Alpine territory,” ‘Diana’ stated. She tilted her head. “What did you hope to achieve?”

  “My client didn’t intend for your partner to die,” Vassi stated clearly. “But somebody else may have. I’m here to find out who would have a reason for wanting Jared dead.”

  This time the growls from the crowd in the reception hall were louder.

  The she-wolf leaned back in her chair and slowly crossed her legs. “Nobody here wanted Jared dead,” she stated coldly.

  Vassi slid her hand inside her jacket, and froze when her wrist was grabbed by the tall lycan next to her. He glared at her, his green gaze suspicious. She slowly withdrew her hand, his grip still on her wrist, and showed him the vial of lipstick.

  He arched a blond eyebrow, then slowly relinquished her.

  “How long were you and Jared mated?” Vassi asked as she casually applied her lipstick, then smacked her lips. She liked to be prepared.

  “Not long enough,” the woman said, her eyes taking on a sadness that Vassi could tell was sincere. “Two years.” The woman’s mournful longing was almost tangible to Vassi, her truthseeking gift sensing her melancholy as well as her honesty.

  “I understand this was Jared’s first visit to this particular surgery. Why didn’t he go to your usual dentist?”

  The she-wolf’s glance flicked to the lycan beside her, then darted away. Vassi pursed her lips. Please be honest. She was reluctant to kiss the she-wolf in search of the truth.

  The woman on the dais sighed. “He didn’t want everyone to know of his problem. He saw it as a sign of weakness.”

  Vassi frowned. “Miscreants need teeth replaced all the time. Werewolves, cats, bears—even vampires. I don’t understand why he would view it as a weakness.”

  The woman tilted her head back, her tawny hair falling over one shoulder. “Then you don’t know the Alpine Pack, half-blood,” she said dryly. “We are the strongest—we have to be, to live where we do,” she said in an unconscious gesture to the snowfields beyond the wall of the mountain. “It was a matter of pride for Jared. If he was going to need a false tooth, it had to be as strong, if not stronger than his own.”

  “Why didn’t he go to your pack’s normal dentist? Why try a new one?”

  Diana folded her arms. “Our dentist is not exclusive. Jared wouldn’t have been able to go there without others seeing.”

  “Others? Who was Jared afraid of seeing him there?”

  The woman’s teeth bared as she placed her hands on the armrests of her chair. “Jared wasn’t afraid of anything, or anyone.” The words were spoken in a low, husky rumble. “He was doing it to protect the pack.”

  Vassi’s frown deepened. How would a visit to the dental surgery put his pack at risk? Everyone needed to go sooner or later, it wasn’t really considered a weakness. Had Diana another motive?

  “Did you want him dead?”

  She could feel the glare of the lycan next to her, but kept her attention on the she-wolf. Anger flared in the woman’s eyes, although her pose remained relaxed. Her hand dropped to her stomach in a protective gesture, as though to ward off Vassi’s barbs.

  “No, I did not.”

  Vassi sensed warmth emanating from the woman. There was no chill of deceit or prevarication, no omission. Just a tonne of regret and sadness. Jared’s mate had not been involved with his death. There was something else, though, something the woman wasn’t going to share with her. Vassi could sense another’s essence, just the tiniest flare of warmth. The she-wolf would bear a pup in the spring, all the more reason for her not to be involved in her mate’s murder. Unfortunately, Jared’s death would have a ripple effect through the generations of the Alpine pack.

  Vassi nodded. “I apologise. In my line of work I have to ask some tough questions, and there’s rarely a nice way to go about it. Would you mind if I asked your tribe some questions?” She held up a hand at the woman’s frown. “I promise to keep it brief, and then I’ll be on my way.” She needed the acting alpha’s permission before interviewing anyone in the tribe’s territory.

  The she-wolf reluctantly nodded, her expression impatient.

  Vassi eyed the lycan beside her. “And you are?”

  He cocked his head, glancing around the room, a line marring his brow. His fists clenched, shoulders back, his chest rose as he breathed in slowly. For a moment Vassi thought he was going to ignore her completely, although she knew that he was keeping track of her with a heightened level of awareness.

  Finally he turned his head to look at her. “Matthias.”

  She waited for the mental fog to rise and roll over the name. Her eyebrows rose as his name remained with a crystal clarity in her mind. “Oh. It suits you,” she commented. Matthias blinked at the remark.

  “Matthias is—was Jared’s guardian prime.” Diana’s voice caught on her words.

  Vassi nodded. “Ah. So, with Jared’s death, perhaps you now have an opportunity to become alpha prime?” She knew the question was blunt, even offensive. She also knew that using the element of shock made it more difficult for subjects to mask their reactions.

  Matthias, though, surprised her. His expression remained cool, remote, as he shook his head. “No.”

  Vassi waited, but the lycan didn’t seem inclined to chitchat. “No? The pack will need a new alpha. Why not you?”

  “I don’t wish to be alpha,” he said, his voice low. He was losing patience, not enjoying having to explain himself. “I have no desire to replace Jared. He was my friend, and I respected him. I won’t take his place.”

  Vassi frowned. The waves washing over her ran hot and cold, like diving into a pool at the beginning of summer and finding the warm spots as you swam a lap. It was confusing; she couldn’t pull apart where the deceit was, and what was said in all honesty. She did know that he wasn’t about to share the information willingly.

  She reached for him, her movements lightning fast. She saw his brief look of surprise when she grasped his head and pulled him down for a kiss, reaching out with her gift.

  Her lips met his, and she gasped at the warm contact. He was like a wall of heat. He may have been surprised by her move, but his reaction was quick. He slid his tongue inside her mouth and took command of the kiss, melding her body to his, the ring around his neck pressing into the spot between her breasts.

  She tore her lips from the lycan, breathless but still in control. Interesting. The guy was a great kisser, but apparently she preferred her men scarred and on the wrong side of the law.

  “Do you want to be alpha prime?” she murmured rapidly to the lycan as he blinked, fighting the compulsion. She fed a little more of her gift through their connection. His eyes finally glazed over. She’d only have a few minutes before the other lycans stepped in to stop their conversation.

  “I can’t. I am not of the Al
pine Pack, I have no claim.” The answer was a low rumble as she compelled him to answer.

  She frowned. He hadn’t quite answered the question—odd. “Do you want to be alpha?” she repeated, strengthening her words with her gift.

  “Yes,” he murmured, his green gaze ablaze as he fought against the yoke of her gift. This one fought the compulsion, a shock as every other creature succumbed easily. This lycan, though, seemed entirely aware of her attempt to control him. “But because I’m worthy, not because I failed the man I’d sworn to protect. I cannot claim Alpha Prime for Alpine Pack. You’re not born an alpha, you have to earn it.” His words came back at her with heat and more. His honesty was brutal in its effect, and she gritted her teeth against the sensations bombarding her, battering her with his sincerity, pain and a dark determination.

  “Did you want Jared dead?”

  “No. Jared took me into his pack. I am completely loyal to him. I will serve his pack until a new prime is decided.” His commitment to the pack, to his friend, was harsh and unyielding. Alpine Pack’s guardian prime was resolute in his protection of his adopted pack. It was obvious the lycan felt a deep sense of guilt over the death of the alpha prime, but not because he’d had anything to do with it, rather that he hadn’t been able to prevent it. Now she understood the ambivalence she’d sensed before.

  “Who would benefit from Jared’s death?” She sensed the she-wolf shifting in her chair, impatient for their conversation to end.

  “Nobody in the pack has a clear track to prime position,” Matthias stated calmly, and Vassi nodded. Usually challengers fought the alpha to obtain the prime position. If the alpha prime had died, though, all male wolves fought through rounds of challenges until the final winner was awarded the prime’s position. A level playing field to ensure the leader was the pack’s strongest.

  “Outsiders? Who are your pack enemies?”

  “Woodland Pack, and Southside Colony.”

  Vassi nodded. She knew of some of the conflict with Woodland Pack, had seen enough cases in the courtroom to know that there was some serious trouble from that quarter. Satisfied she’d gotten the information she needed, she severed the connection.