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Freya's Founding: Book 2 of the Winging It Series

Page 22

by Sonja Bair


  The three of us looked at each in confusion—no one had ordered this.

  “Excuse me, I believe you have the wrong table.” Alrik was the first to speak.

  “No. The guy over at the bar sent this to you specifically. ‘The table with the blonde ladies and the Thor want-to-be’ is what he said. He’s right over…” He pivoted to look over to the empty bar. “Well, he must have just left. But he wrote you guys a note.” He fished a folded sheet of paper out of his apron and handed it to Alrik. “Anyway, he paid for it, so you might as well enjoy it.”

  While Alrik unfolded the note, the waiter pulled the bottle out of the bucket and untwisted the wire cage around the cork.

  “What does it say?” I asked hurriedly—Elin leaned in toward Alrik with curiosity sparkling in her eyes.

  Alrik’s face clouded over as he scanned the letter again. Before he could answer, the waiter popped the cork off the bottle, but the force of the cork was greater than he expected, it escaped his grip, flew ten feet to the neighboring table, and knocked over a glass of red wine. Within a fraction of a second, the wine flowed over the edge of the table and into the lap of an elderly woman wearing a white skirt. Her shriek echoed across the restaurant. Face draining of all color, the waiter rushed to her side. I could hear his apologies and see his attempts to mop up the mess, but the woman continued to shriek unabated. Poor guy was probably going to get an earful from his manager as well after the screeching stopped, I thought as I turned back to Alrik.

  “Well, tell us. Who’s our secret admirer?”

  Alrik grimaced, carefully folded the note, and placed it on the table. There was silence for a moment, but then he picked it up again and unfolded it.

  “It reads, ‘Out of chaos God made a world, and out of high passions comes a people. Lord Byron.’ No signature or name.” The note got creased again, but then was tucked into Alrik’s breast pocket.

  “Odd,” Elin said.

  Alrik caught my eye and frowned even deeper.

  “Do you guys know what it means?” Elin asked.

  “It means that we should drink a toast to Nick’s generosity and growing sense of creepiness,” I answered.

  “Nick? The guy that bothered you on the plane and in the woods?”

  “Yup. Unless you are acquainted with another person who celebrates chaos and giving people the heebie-jeebies.”

  “Maybe he happened to be at the bar and spotted us…” Elin trailed off as Alrik shook his head slowly.

  I jerked up straight, rolled my shoulders back, and smiled. “Well, I plan on enjoying the champagne. It was sealed so it can’t be poisoned… or it would be really hard to poison.” I shrugged. “Either way, I plan on blaming all bad behavior on it, so let’s get started.” I pulled the bottle out of the ice and carefully poured the bubbly into the three flutes the waiter had set on the table before he had demonstrated cork projectile physics. I picked up my glass and held it out for a toast.

  “Here’s to life being interesting,” I offered.

  Elin gingerly picked up her own flute and sniffed it. It must have passed the smell test because she held it out next to mine. We both glanced over at Alrik. He shook his head, declining to take even a sip. Elin turned back to me.

  “And here’s to my sister. Who brings out the most interesting in people and life of anyone I’ve ever known.”

  We clanked our glasses together, raised them to our lips, hesitated, and took a tiny sip at the same time. The bubbles fizzed against my tongue, but the sharpness melted into a light floral taste, with some hints of strawberry. I took another drink, this one more significant. Delicious. I grinned at Elin, who was smiling as well. She grabbed the bottle and turned it to see the label.

  “Holy smokes. This is the real stuff—it could not have been cheap.”

  I grabbed the wine list at the end of our table and looked up the price of our gift.

  “Three hundred dollars, Elin. It. Cost. Three. Hundred. Dollars.”

  Elin’s big blue eyes grew wider. “Three cheers to Mr. Nick. He may be super creepy, but at least he is a classy creep. Alrik, you should have some of this.” She pushed his flute toward him.

  “No. And you are allowing him to purchase your attention.”

  I swatted the air as I took another sip. “Oh, ease up, Alrik. I don’t plan on hooking up with him because he drops some cash. I prefer to think that I am wasting his money by consuming this delicious beverage while not changing my mind about him in the least.”

  “You two aren’t taking this threat serious enough.”

  “Incorrect. I am taking his stalker tendencies very seriously. I just don’t know what to do about it, and drinking a ridiculously expensive bottle of champagne seems like as good a solution as any. And what are you going to do about this serious threat?”

  Alrik threw his napkin on the table and stood up, scraping the metal chair against the floor. “I’m going to track him down and have a few words. He may have caught me unaware at the werewolf meeting, but now I know his tricks and have a few of my own as well.”

  As he maneuvered through the crowded room, his barely controlled anger was evident in his precise movements and tensed shoulders.

  “Wait a second.” Elin said. “Did he stick us with the bill?”

  My eyes narrowed as I came to the same realization. “Jerk. He probably sent us the bottle of champagne, then blamed Nick to give himself an excuse to get out of our bill.” Of course, this was nowhere near the truth, as both Elin and I knew. Alrik exuded nobility and chivalry with every pore of his body. And he would slay dragons for me, I realized. Strangely, the realization left me feeling short of breath instead of bubbly with joy.

  “Should we help him hunt down Nick?” I asked Elin.

  “I feel unequipped to deal with supernatural evilness at the moment,” she answered with a small shrug. “Alrik, on the other hand, can deal with creepy supernaturals with one hand tied behind his back.”

  “So you think that Nick is a supernatural? Alrik isn’t convinced.”

  “Standing outside the supernatural community, I have a less of a strict definition of who is supernatural and who isn’t. He is doing things that a normal person doesn’t do. Therefore, I’ll put him in the supernatural category.” She poured me another glass of champagne and asked in a nonchalant voice, “So are you thinking of touring the world with Alrik and becoming a full-time USN ambassador?”

  “I don’t know,” I said with a sigh. “What do you think?”

  “It would mean you leaving San Luis. I don’t want that. On the other hand, you have been getting in tons of trouble lately. I don’t know either.”

  Instead of answering the tough questions, Elin and I finished the rest of the bottle in much too short an order. We split the bill that Alrik left us with and walked back to my house, as neither of us were in a condition to drive. Alrik had not answered our calls to come back and chaperone us home, but we decided that the way home was lit and populated enough to make it back safely. What could possibly go wrong?

  Chapter 25

  On the way home, we passed the elegant inn that David and I had arranged for the Elders to stay in during the conference. Wondering what the Elders were doing with their free time, I glanced up toward the stately building. The front windows were covered by heavy draperies, but a foot-wide gap revealed the interior of the front meeting room. I didn’t mean to look in, but the bright lights naturally drew my eye and the very first thing I spotted in the room was the rigid back, stiff shoulders, and ash blonde French twist of Tilde. Surrounding her in a circle were the other Elders and several of the Alphas. But facing the window and, in fact, making direct eye contact with me, was Nick Smith. Even though the difference in lighting between dark outside and blazingly lit inside should have prevented him from seeing me, he smiled widely and wiggled his eyebrows. Surprisingly, the look wasn’t leering, but more of an “isn’t-this-a-hoot” grin. I grabbed Elin’s shirt sleeve and forced her to come to a stop; she hadn’t
noticed the meeting going on. In silence, I pointed at the window.

  “Is that…” Elin started.

  “Yes.”

  “What do we do?” She turned to me, eyes wide and face draining of color.

  “I see no point in ignoring the situation; let’s go see what trouble Nick is up to.”

  “But the Elders and Alphas are there.”

  “More of a reason to go in. I ‘m pretty sure he’s creating trouble.”

  I dragged Elin into the inn, past the startled front desk employee, and to the heavy oak French doors leading to the front room. I paused in front of the entrance, took a few deep breaths, and wiped my suddenly sweaty palms on my jeans. Sending a silent request up to The Powers That Be for fortitude and diplomacy, I pulled the door open. All heads pivoted in my direction; glowers dominated the faces of the gathering. Abrupt silence fell over the room.

  “Freya,” called Nick heartily, the only one unperturbed by my appearance. “Welcome. And this must be your lovely sister, Elin. I’ve heard so much about you as well. Come in, come in; it’s not polite to lurk in doorways.”

  I decided not to be thrown by his tone and welcome. I knew enough about power plays and nonverbal cues that he had moved to establish a subtle dominance over the gathering. That’s fine. Two can play that game.

  “Nick, you turn up like a bad penny,” I said, matching his boisterous tone. “I didn’t realize you knew the Alphas and Elders. Looks like I’m late to the party, but since you so nicely invited me, I will stay.”

  I grabbed the only seating option remaining, a piano bench, and pulled it over to the circle of Alphas and Elders. The bench was missing pads on the bottom of the legs and while dragging it, it screeched and scraped against the wooden floor. The polite, courteous side of me cringed at the thought of a gouge the legs might be digging into the floor, but a larger part of me reveled in the hideous racket it was causing. Indeed, I could see Tilde flinch out of the corner of my eye and therefore, the only logical place to park my bench was right next to her. I pushed the bench toward the space beside her, but it wasn’t big enough.

  “Care to scooch over?” I smiled sweetly at Tilde, my eyes big and innocent. Her “scooch” was less than enthusiastic. Squeezing in between the two chairs, I patted the empty space beside me, motioning Elin to sit. Her eyebrow twitch of disapproval was so subtle that I’m sure, I, being her sister, was the only one to pick up on it. Nevertheless, she gracefully picked her way through the room and settled down next to me on the bench.

  “So what have you guys been talking about? And perhaps, even more interesting to me, how did Nick Smith meet up with you guys?”

  Nick seemed positively charmed by my question. The twinkle in his eye and the smirk twitching at his lips caused my stomach to drop. It seemed as if he had arranged the whole scenario and it was playing out exactly as he had planned.

  “But why, my sweet Freya,” Nick said, the gloating barely contained, “should I have not been invited? Your dear leader, Viktor, and I go way, way back and although he may be layin’ in the hospital right now, I’m sure he would be pleased as punch that I was here…”

  “I highly doubt you are friends with Viktor.”

  “Oh, I never said Viktor and I are buddies, only that we have had dealin’s before and on the whole, he would rather have me here than elsewhere.”

  “I’m going to maintain my doubt about that particular claim, but right now I only want to know why you are intruding into a meeting that clearly is not your business.”

  “This isn’t your business either, Freya,” Tilde interrupted. “While Nick may have welcomed you to this meeting, the rest of us didn’t.”

  I turned to Tilde. “Do you know what Nick did to Alrik when I met him last? He put Alrik to sleep so he wouldn’t interfere with tormenting me. If you don’t believe me, ask Alrik. This guy is trouble.”

  “And I presume that the obvious is as clear to you as it is to the rest of us Alva and werewolves—Nick is not supernatural. I’d say you are the trouble, Freya. Your actions have caused Viktor to sustain near-death wounds. Nick has only been providing resources for our interactions with the werewolves.”

  “Resources? What possible resources has Nick been providing?”

  “He has been more help than you and your antics.”

  I was trembling in barely contained anger. What in the world did Tilde have against me? Or was it just disdain for the lowly non-Elder Alva like me? But would she really take the word of some stranger over one of her own Flock? I knew that I wasn’t helping my case at all by becoming hostile with her, but she was pushing my buttons tonight.

  “Darlin’,” Nick leaned toward me and turned on that syrupy sweet voice I detested, “perhaps it’s better that you and me take our leave of this gatherin’. Let these fine folks continue with their discussions and problem solvin’. I think we’ve done all we can do for the moment.”

  “Thank you for understanding, Mr. Smith,” said Tilde. “It is time for you to go.”

  I turned in outrage to the rest of the room. “Really? You guys are allowing Tilde to do this? Has she become dictator in this meeting? Don’t you guys have any opinion about letting this stranger,” I waved at Nick, “become part of the decision-making process? And why are you even meeting outside the regularly scheduled meetings? How do you think the other Elders and Alphas will feel about these backroom intrigues?”

  There were slight shifting noises as the others in the room considered my words. Nick, on the other hand, continued wearing his cat-in-the-cream smile. Did none of the other people in the room feel as creeped out as I did by this man? Eventually, one of the Alphas I had talked to maybe a total of twice answered my question.

  “Much as we don’t trust any outsiders, the Alphas are willing to consider any option at this point. Many of us don’t feel comfortable allowing Gina to participate in our meetings, not to mention you yourself, but we have the more serious problems of dying packmates to contend with at the moment. So we are looking for help where ever we can—you, Gina, the Elders, anyone. And Nick, for reasons I don’t know, has been able to uncover some history of the werewolves that we ourselves didn’t know. It has been enlightening.”

  “See, honey, I’ve been behavin’ myself,” Nick said. His smirk had morphed into a sanctimonious look of recrimination. “Now, would you allow me the pleasure of escortin’ you and your sister home? I promise your superiors that you will arrive without a hair on your head harmed.” He held up his hand in classic Boy Scout fashion and turned to Tilde for consent. Although I’m not sure that she was overly concerned about my health and well-being currently, she nodded approval. Switching to Swedish, she scolded me mom-like… that is, if my mother was condescending and icy.

  “Let me stop your protests before they start, Freya. You aren’t welcome here. As far as I’m concerned, you are done with this meeting and the werewolf life in general. You have strayed too far from the Flock. I am reporting back to the other Elders not present that you must be ordered back to Sweden to face your decisions in front of a full council.”

  I took a deep breath, deep enough to fuel the long string of creative Swedish insults piling up on the edge of my tongue. Thankfully, Elin is a much wiser woman than I, and a wise woman knows when to cut her losses and retreat with a modicum of self-respect still intact. Grasping my upper arm in a ridiculously tight grip, she cut off my hole-digging tirade before it started.

  “Perhaps that is something we can discuss at a later time. Good night everyone. Much luck finding answers to these problems. Nick, thank you for your offer to escort us home, but we will be fine on our own.”

  “Nonetheless, beautiful lady, I’m heading in the same direction. And lest you start thinkin’ I’m stalkin’ you, I’d rather walk with you than three steps behind. Now, that would be creepy, wouldn’t it?” He winked at me again.

  “Fine,” I said, regaining my composure enough to sound diplomatic. “Lead the way.”

  Before we lef
t the inn, I turned to Nick. “There’s no way we are walking home with you. And how do you know where I live?”

  Nick stopped abruptly and though the mischief remained in his eyes, the waggish smirk disappeared, replaced by a sincere grimace.

  “Now, I’m many things, sugar, but one thing I am not is a liar. I promised your Elder that I would bring you home safe and sound and therefore I shall escort you back safe and sound. Besides, I know that you are just dyin’ to ask me questions and figure me out, so I’m goin’ to allow you a chance. And I’ll even answer honestly.” He leaned closer to me. “Isn’t that worth a little risk?”

  Elin, again being the smarter sister, shook her head violently. But sometimes, both literally and figuratively, foolishness is a sister to wisdom. I spent a moment considering the offer to answer questions. Alrik, the best Arbitrator the Flock had for many decades, couldn’t corner Nick, and now here he was right in front of me, offering up answers to our questions.

  “I’ll take you up on the offer, Nick. But I want two promises. First, you need to promise you won’t sleepy-time me or Elin. And second, you can’t give evasive, ambiguous answers to my questions,” I said.

  “Well then, don’t ask ambiguous questions,” he laughed. “But sure, honey, I promise not to sleepy-time anyone and to be as forth-comin’ as I ever am. Satisfied?”

  I nodded briskly. Elin sighed, slung her purse cross-wise over her shoulder, and rested her hand inside the bag, gripping, I’m sure, the can of pepper spray which resided there.

  As we walked out the door and down the inn’s front steps, I tried to frame my thoughts. What could I ask him that would help figure out his role in my life and my problems? I knew the answers he would give to who are you? and why are you here?—Nick Smith and chaos. I needed to pin down some concrete piece of information.

  “You put Alrik to sleep, but you don’t appear to be supernatural. What power do you carry that allows you to do that?”

 

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