Forget Me Knot

by Melissa Glisan

  Red looked at Celena stunned. Where did that kind of spunk come from? Not that he didn’t like it, it was sexy as hell, but she’d always been the quiet type, more inclined to hide behind a book than face a bully.

  “For your information, people did question the gods as far back as Sumer, and that predated Fidenae by a good bit.” She primly nodded at Uncle Jay, who was openly grinning.

  “You do got the right of it, but I reckon that if there were folk questioning, Lupercus didn’t know of it. In this case, though, Faustulus and the Wolf Lord became fast friends. Like as not he was probably crushed to lose his bride, but he didn’t hold no grudge, and Lupercus and Laurentia took up a life together just before the Wolf Lord was sent out on his quest.”

  Celena nodded and made another note on the paper.

  “There was a huge gap in time while he was out and about vying with Herakles for the right to name the constellations. As you might’ve taken notice, he didn’t do so hot; most of us think the Greek gods stacked the deck playin’ favorites.” Again the men laughed at the familiar wink that Jay used when telling the tale. “But come home he did, and everything was changed, and I mean everything.”

  The feeling in the room became somber. “In them days, our ancestors lived in the Pindus Mountains of Greece and fell under the protection of Apollo.” Jay stopped and pulled a face, “He wanted something we weren’t prepared to give and he cursed us, wolf by day and man by night. Nearly killed us all, traveling overland, when we heard tell of a god of wolves in Rome, and decided to go to him for help.”

  “And he did help,” Marc broke in, settling a plate of oatmeal raisin cookies on the table at one end as Flora sat another plate at the far end.

  “To be charitable, he had help.” Jay grabbed a cookie.

  “Help from whom?”

  Red watched Celena wistfully eye the plate, and shook his head. Women and their eternal need to diet, he would never understand it. Knowing better than to nag her about it, he put a cookie on a napkin and sat it on her notebook where she couldn’t ignore it.

  “Not sure, never did think to ask, but it was a god he done a service for.” He stopped talking to eat his cookie, and Celena stared hard at the treat blocking her notes. Idly she picked it up and nibbled the edges as she made a note.

  “Lupercus goes by his name doesn’t he?”

  Red nodded. “Yes, he goes by Lupercus Dianus now. He used different first names but tried to keep it close until he moved to America, since he hit here he’s been Lupercus.”

  Eyes wide, Celena stared at Red. “Dianus? You mean to say Diana? The goddess known as the unwed huntress, her standards are the stag and the hound, and she’s associated with the moon.” Her eyes tracked back to the notepad and she stuffed the rest of the cookie into her mouth slanting the napkin in front of Red.

  Amused at the old hint, he placed another cookie on the paper square.

  “History records Faustulus as having married Laurentia, Acca Laurentia. This was another woman?” When no one answered, Celena looked up from her notes. The men at the table were staring at her in a suspicious kind of way. “What did I say?”

  “Nothing, Lena,” Red tugged at a stray lock of hair, “you just put the pieces together faster than we did is all. History has a way of getting things right and wrong. Most of us followed Lupercus for centuries after Faustulus remarried. We figured the tales of his wife got confused; it wasn’t until last week that we found out that there were two Laurentias--sisters actually.”

  “No.” She gave him another wide-eyed look, nibbling at the cookie as she returned to making notes.

  “Bet Acca was super jealous of her sister,” she mumbled. “I know I would have been—didn’t even get my own name, then having to share my sister’s first husband, wow that must have sucked.”

  “Even worse,” Marc filled coffee cups as Flora set them on the table, “she got it in her head that the little boys she took in after her big sister nursed them, had to be Lupercus and Laurentia’s get, that big sis was just too important to raise her own kids.”

  Red loved watching the gears turn behind her eyes, no matter how bizarre the curveball he’d come up with to get out of doing work, she’d never been left behind.

  “So, Acca refused to accept that Romulus and Remus were Mars’ children? She must have been very bitter. I wonder that her husband never noticed.” Her eyes fell on the scattered crumbs on the napkin and she made another few notes on her tablet as Red dutifully supplied another cookie. “What of her own children?”

  “By what Laura Faust admitted before she decided to go mute, she had at least one girl named for Laurentia and a boy named for Faustulus,” Red said, sipping his coffee. An incredulous eye from under white-blonde bangs seemed to accuse him of something vile. “What? Don’t give me that look; it wasn’t my idea to be such a monumental dick to my wife. We all agree it was a pretty shitty thing to do.”

  Even the grumpy, disproving older men nodded.

  “Okay,” Celena relented taking Madden’s coffee and sipping it, “guess that means we can fast forward to what happened, right?”

  “Actually, I had a thought,” Uncle Jay leaned his elbows on the table, “it came to me when I was readying for bed the other night. I’ve collected all the stories of the man-wolf tribe and considered putting them in a book since none of the younger men seem inclined to bear the history.” A rather sharp look was directed around the table to the fidgeting crowd. “It seems every attempt on the tribe and the Wolf Lord was always brought on by a blonde woman.”

  Celena went very still, sensing something was wrong Red pulled her back against his chest.

  “Not your kind of blonde, Angel, yellow-blonde. I remember the tales, just not as well as Uncle Jay.” He felt her sag a little then pull away to change the page and make another series of notes.

  “What made me think it was odd was that according to Lupercus, the original Laurentia was blonde and these boys tell me that Laura Faust is blonde. Isn’t it a mite peculiar to manage so many years of the same features?” Nodding in agreement, Celena continued to jot down notes.

  “Moving forward,” a soft voice spoke up from further down the table, it was Jeff Martin, a clerk in the county courthouse. “Approximately one year ago the Sabine Group bought an untenanted farm from the county tax sale list.” Red noticed the way Celena tried to withdraw into herself at the name of the group. She was more than passing familiar with the group. “I’m not the best computer wiz, but I did manage to find the corporate papers for the group online. The controlling stock is owned by a Linda Foster of New York.”

  The shockwave that went through the room was physically palpable as Celena and the clerk discussed the location of the members of the board of directors: New Orleans, Pittsburgh, Casper Wyoming, and a town named Coeur de Alene in Idaho. “Damnit,” Red cursed, he should have thought to look for threats to the other clans. He felt fingers entwine with his, and allowed his anger to bleed off. Part of being leader was in knowing he couldn’t do everything, he had delegated tasks and Jeff was doing his job.

  “I, uh, take it that these locations are important and I’ll leave it at that.” Celena probably had a damned good idea why it was important; Red lightly squeezed her hip as thanks. Unfortunately, it also put other thoughts into his mind, and the moment she lifted her hand to resume taking notes, his fingers idly stroked the soft skin he found just under her soft fuzzy sweater.

  “This property is located where?” He fancied hearing a slight catch in her voice as she asked.

  “It’s across the street from this very bed and breakfast.”

  “Huh…” She tapped the pencil against her lips and Red felt a spurt of lust imaging those same lips on his cock. “Did the Faust woman have a job, a bank account in the area or any identifiable source of income?”

  “She never held a job that anyone around here could tell,” Flora piped up from the kitchen door. “Whenever she bought plants from me she always paid cash, too.” Red
listened idly as the men all confirmed what Flora said, no job and cash payments for everything. Slowly his finger traced circles around her bellybutton. Celena wriggled a bit but didn’t complain and he had to swallow a grin.

  “There were traps?” Oh yeah, he could hear the unsteady note to her voice, and reveled in it. “Where?” She dutifully made note that the only affected ground was the Daniels farm. “None near your home, Madden?” Her voice was a slightly bit husky, and he made a mental note to insist she talk non-stop the next time they made love, even if all she did was recite math tables.

  “No, none near my parents’ farmhouse,” he replied, dipping his finger behind the waistband of her skirt.

  “Isn’t that odd? If she suspected one of you of being dual natured, why not target both?”

  It was a good question, he conceded with a half-shrug as his finger brushed the top of the elastic to her bikini underwear. “Not sure what was in her mind, I found the first trap.” Red stopped playing with her underwear and let his hand drift north to caress the twitching muscles of her stomach. “It was about the same time that Marc and Lora learned they were going to be parents.” It was a clear reminder of the duplicity of the clan’s doctor, and all eyes swiveled to fix on him where he remained in the corner perched on the edge of the divan.

  “She already knew about the Silvestris’,” Tomas’ voice was strained. “She delighted in telling me that she knew about them and that they were the reason she was directed to McClellan.”

  “Directed, not sent?” The word choice seemed to be important, Tomas nodded. “That would indicate that she is somewhat in charge, and that others are in place looking, scouting, and reporting back.” Celena turned slightly. “Madden, did you save any of the traps?”

  Guiltily he cleared his throat. “No, I didn’t, I just took them apart. Lupercus saved a bunch and Ashley saved one from the last set. Those were the worst.” At her arch look, he explained, “They were loaded with some odd kind of hypodermic that had a knockout drug in them. I’ve got them locked up in Flora’s barn.”

  Celena sat quietly thinking. “I’ll need lab space to analyze the drug, and Dr. SaoBria’s facilities are circumspect.”

  From down the table Red’s dentist offered use of his business after hours.

  “Is there anyone who is a genealogy buff?” One of the younger men raised his hand and Celena passed along what he needed to look for in immigration records, including family work ups on all the board members of the Sabine Group.

  “I take it that it is your responsibility to see that the other states are alerted?” It was on the tip of Madden’s tongue to happily defer that task to Lupercus, when he remembered that he had agreed to take on all tribe responsibilities so long as the Wolf Lord remained in the dog house with his new mate.

  “Yeah, I guess is it,” he huffed, removing his hand from her luscious skin. “Better get on that now. If there is anything else you need Celena, just ask, we’ll be sure you get it.”

  She sighed and looked over her notes. “I’d say now all I need is to talk with Dr. SaoBria then to speak with Flora and…what is Lupercus’ brother supposedly named?” It was an odd question but Red just brushed it aside; Celena always did have a funny way of phrasing things.

  “Horne,” he said, standing up and settling her back into his seat. “Frank Horne, and if he dares to touch you again, I’ll call him dinner.”

  Chapter Eight

  Prime Knot

  Flora looked out the kitchen window and watched Frank in amusement as Mars shredded one pant leg and Beaujolais bayed, dashing in circles around the cursing man.

  Marc peered over her shoulder. “How long have they been outside?”

  Frank was now hop-dragging the ferocious little black mop of a dog as the larger one sensed movement and darted in the general direction with all his bulk. The result was Frank staggering and nearly stepping on the biting beast.

  “I have no idea,” Flora admitted, “but I could watch this all afternoon. Must have been before your family all started arriving, I think they make him nervous.” Marc grunted and slid another sheet of cookies out of the oven. Lora was in the mood for cookies so cookies were being made in mass quantity. “I wish I had a great guy like you to spoil me more than rotten. We must have made twelve dozen cookies today.”

  “I am pretty great, aren’t I?” Marc preened, and Flora rolled her eyes laughing. “Don’t worry, Pest, I’m sure you’ll find someone willing to put up with you one day.”

  “What a vote of confidence, I’m flattered, really,” she drawled, removing her apron. “Since you are so great and wonderful, you can wash that last tray when the cookies are cool. I’m going to give Frank’s very expensive pants a break.” Flora fired the drying rag at the back of Marc’s head. Aside from the last sheet of cookies and a spatula, everything in the room was spotless and up to health code.

  “Admit it, Pest, you don’t care about the guy’s pants, unless it means getting rid of them.” Marc teased, draping the discarded towel over his forearm. The revelation made her feel a bit faint and she leaned against the counter, jacket in hand.

  “That pathetically obvious?” Red knowing was bad enough, but to be expected given his unusually heightened senses.

  “Only to the people who love you, Flora.” Marc engulfed her in a rib-creaking hug that made her choke. “If the son of a bitch hurts you, I’ll eat him.”

  ****

  “You know, for someone so offensive, there seems to be a lot of interest in taking a bite out of you lately.” Flora teased Frank as he tried to dislodge Mars from his ankle. He did not look amused as he tried to glare through exasperation. Laughing, Flora gently tugged Mars’ leash out of Frank’s hand. With the change in guides, the small feisty ratty-looking dog yapped happily and pranced alongside the still straining Beaujolais.

  “So, the Silvestris’ still want to part me out for dinner?” The flip tone didn’t fool her, and she bit the inside of her mouth to stop the grin she felt forming.

  “Most guys wouldn’t mind being thought of as edible.” She couldn’t help teasing the starchy male.

  “Well if you wanted to take a bite I certainly wouldn’t mind.” He slanted her an appraising glance that was ruined when the Bassett scented something exciting and pulled against his leash, yanking Frank forward. Trotting to catch up, Flora took a moment to appreciate the rear view. He was a good-looking guy, not over-muscled like Red, well proportioned even if he did tend to the lean side. Her hands itched to explore under the expensive wrappings he always layered over his body. It was as if pants and a shirt weren’t enough. Odd, considering he didn’t need a jacket on the coldest days to sty warm, Flora liked puzzles at times, and Frank was indeed a fresh one.

  Biting certainly gave her an interesting notion. “What part of you would I have to bite to get your true name?”

  Startled, Faunus spun around only to have the retarded floppy-eared minion of Hades think it was a new game, and begin a low-level orbit at the speed of slobber. He almost forgot to pass the leash around his middle as Ashley had recommended, the sight of Flora simply took his breath away. The wind tousled her rough and tumble black hair, haloing her face in sooty spikes. Was it the slight chill in the air or the audacious offer that made her cheeks so pink? He could tell that her heart was beating faster but the rakish tilt to her head made him wonder if it wasn’t from the slight jog she’d done to keep up.

  Remembering his brother’s not so subtle warning to stay away from the pretty greenhouse maven only upped the temptation that she provided. He never liked limitations, and so far everyone was telling him to leave her alone, which of course meant he simply had to have her. It would be interesting to see, which of the three wolves would get to him first. Marc and Lupercus he had nothing to fear from. A mere mortal couldn’t cause him lasting damage, and despite his rather pithy warning and past conflicts, he knew Lupercus wouldn’t really kill him. That only left the elder Silvestri, and he honestly didn’t know what to ma
ke of that one. But the sweet little flower girl, with her succulent lips and ‘sin dipped in innocence’ demeanor, now she was a temptation too rich to pass by.

  “I don’t know, little Flower,” he answered. “A name has great power. It can tell many secrets. But for another of your kisses I might be convinced to give you a hint.”

  She puckered her lips invitingly in thought. “Your brother goes by his true name.”

  “That is so,” he conceded as Beaujolais collapsed on his loafers, rubbing his big rubbery head on the ground. “But man has also forgotten him. Today people just think Lupercus is a quirky name and nothing more. My name,” his lips twisted in derision, “has not been so fortunate.” Flora’s eyes brightened as she laughed, even the small black mongrel at her feet seemed to think something was funny as his ears perked and tongue lolled in a doggy grin. “Okay, what gives?”

  “I managed to get a hint without giving away a single kiss.” She smiled brightly. Damn! She was right. He’d have to watch his tongue with this one. The thought unsettled him, and he stepped away from the smelly hound and paced towards the woods. In all his years among the humans, Faunus never had a need to watch what he said. Conversations were always surface things, like compliments and flirtations. The few women who tried to initiate deeper talks were easily placated with inane drivel or left. The lack of true conversation never bothered him until the past month.

  A game path made a circle between the Daniels, Silvestri, and Stang properties that he enjoyed. Hoping for solace, he picked the path and let the blubbery hound trot ahead of him. The sound of crunching leaves and twigs behind indicated that Flora and Mars were following. Strange little dog, the way it took to women and mauled every man around unless it was Lupercus. Feeling a bit spiteful, he plotted a way to introduce the fang-happy mutt to Red’s boxers.

  “What’s so funny?”

  Why did the woman have to have a knack for ruining his ruminations with that sassy voice of hers? Frowning he turned. “What are you talking about?” She smiled happily, and irritatingly it moved him. He was not going to get mushy-brained over this woman, she had none of the refinements he’d come to appreciate in the last century.