The Rainmaker (Saga of the Chosen Book 2)

by Petra Landon

  “That is true” Caroline chimed in. “That’s why this is really nice.” She gestured around her at the party in full swing, Shifters mingling with other Chosen guests.

  “Tasia Armstrong” greeted a vaguely familiar voice.

  Tasia’s heart sank. It was Justin Markham — the Shifter who’d injured Sara when her friend had tried to warn Tasia about the nuances in Shifter courtship rituals. Tasia could sense Sara stiffen up beside her, but this time, Tasia was prepared. Once, she’d inadvertently provided this Shifter an opportunity to exploit her naiveté and inexperience with Shifter and Pack customs for his own ends. No more. Tasia was wiser to the ways of the Pack now, and she had an ace in the hole, if Duncan was to be believed. She could be as blunt with Markham as she liked, and he would never dare retaliate against her for fear of the Alpha’s wrath.

  “What can I do for you?” Tasia asked him, her tone discouraging.

  Sienna and Caro, already forewarned by Sara’s poker face, exchanged a glance at Tasia’s unusually unfriendly demeanor with the male Shifter.

  “Is that any way to greet an old friend” he chided lightly, his smile unaffected by her unwelcoming manner.

  “You’re no friend of mine” Tasia retorted fiercely, her mind vivid with memories of Sara crumpled amidst broken furniture before Duncan had swooped down to carry her off to be patched up by the Pack doctor.

  Markham contemplated her silently, his good humor unimpaired and his eyes rife with speculation.

  “The Lair is abuzz with whispers of your fractious relationship with the Alpha. He’s got a short fuse, our Alpha, and no love for your kind. You’ll be out on your pretty behind in no time. If I were you, Tasia Armstrong, I wouldn’t be so hasty to reject any overtures of friendship.” He paused for emphasis. “You never know when you might find yourself in need of friends.”

  Tasia’s expression tightened imperceptively at his allusion to Lair gossip. She had no idea that her difficulties with the Alpha were being talked about, but she knew that it’d never do to let the Shifter know his barb had hit home.

  “I have all the friends I’ll ever need” she assured him composedly, her glance encompassing the three women who flanked her.

  Before Markham could respond, Duncan and Hawk descended on them from different sides of the room, united in their determination to handle the situation. Hawk wore a thunderous expression on his face while Duncan was his usual unflappable self. To Tasia’s astonishment, Luis Beltran strode up to them too, to take a position beside Sara and her. He said nothing, seemingly content to allow his mere presence to send a message. Sara’s twin and her Were-Alpha hotfooting it to Sara’s aid against a Shifter known for targeting her was no surprise to Tasia, but Luis’ presence by their side was a mystery. The suave and taciturn Were-Alpha had never demonstrated any concern for Sara before. Luis’ presence seemed to catch Hawk by equal surprise, for he directed a frowning glance at the Shifter. Tasia wondered if Luis Beltran was Markham’s Were-Alpha — that might certainly explain his presence here.

  “Markham” Duncan greeted the Shifter in his usual placid manner. The huge English Shifter was dressed impeccably, as always, in a blue shirt and dark trousers, his sleeves rolled down to hide the colorful ink on his brawny arms. His brown eyes sized up the other Shifter with no discernible expression in them, but Markham seemed to get the message.

  “Time to move on, lad” Duncan suggested mildly, and Markham directed a short nod at Tasia before striding away.

  There was a short silence before Caroline piped up irrepressibly. “Who was that bozo?”

  Busy directing uncertain and wary glances at Luis Beltran’s impassive presence beside her, Sara was prompt to respond. “A prime example of why I’ll never date a Shifter” she said smartly.

  Sienna laughed aloud, Caroline giggled, and the tension was broken. Hawk’s thunderous visage relaxed and even Luis cracked a smile.

  “You can’t judge us all by Markham, Sara mia” Hawk protested, his good humor restored.

  “I have to concur with Hawk on this, my dear” Duncan remarked in his precise way, though Tasia noted the twinkle in his eyes.

  “Ladies, I hope the Pack’s hospitality finds favor.” Duncan’s comment was directed at Caroline. All three of the other women present were currently affiliated with the Pack, in one form or another.

  “Yes, thank you, Mr. Hawthorne” Caro replied primly.

  “Duncan, please” he insisted.

  “I’m enjoying my first glimpse of a Pack Lair” she said limpidly. “Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine an invitation.”

  Duncan hid a smile, amused by her tactics. This, he guessed, was her attempt at bamboozling the crowd gathered here tonight. Caroline Hamilton had been introduced to Duncan the night she had walked into the Lair to ask the Alpha for help. Tasia had been kidnapped and Caroline had come to the Pack as a last resort to request assistance for her friend. It had led to a showdown at the local Registry between the Pack and a Guardian holding Tasia hostage. To ensure that no Wizard censure fell on either Caroline Hamilton or her father, Raoul had commanded the Pack to silence over Caroline’s visit. The Alpha had also given orders for Caroline to be allowed to visit with her friend while Tasia recovered at the Lair, after the Guardian’s ill-treatment of her.

  “You should ask Tasia to give you a tour” Duncan suggested blandly, playing along. “This is likely to be her home for the foreseeable future.”

  Caro contemplated the big Shifter. He had very subtly reinforced Tasia’s ties to the Pack after Justin Markham’s innuendos had raised questions about it. No wonder the English Shifter was held in high esteem within the Pack and by those who knew him, Caro mused.

  “I will, thank you” she said softly.

  Duncan gave her a courtly nod of his head in acknowledgement. He glanced at the silent Were-Alpha in their midst. “Luis Beltran, this is Caroline Hamilton. She’s a friend of Tasia’s.” He made the introductions.

  “That one is intriguing” Caro whispered, as the English Shifter strode away with Luis in tow. “Him, I wouldn’t turn down necessarily.”

  “Duncan.” Sara looked startled, her eyes contemplative as they followed the English Were-Alpha’s heavily-tattooed form. “He’s not your typical Shifter, I’ll give you that. He’s different. And very decent.”

  “You know him well, Sara?” Caro inquired.

  “He’s my Were-Alpha.”

  Caro, curious about the ways of Shifters, hesitated all the same. She knew Sara well, having bonded over their mutual friendship with Tasia. She just wasn’t sure how comfortable Sara would feel answering questions about Shifters while her Pack mates listened in.

  “Duncan mentored Sara and me when we first joined the Pack” Hawk offered, his expression unusually solemn. Caro had never seen this side of Hawk before. “He taught us everything we know about being Shifters and has always looked out for us.”

  “Duncan is a treasure” Sienna chimed in quietly. “Wise, steady, unflappable and inherently decent.” Jason and she had both come to trust in the big Shifter’s judgment and level-headedness.

  Tasia couldn’t help but silently agree with both Sara and Caro. Duncan had been unfailingly kind to her from the moment the Alpha had extended Pack protection to her. He had given her good advice, unwavering support and even helped bolster her in his way when her new life had overwhelmed her.

  Hawk seemed to abruptly spring to attention, his expression hardening. Both his and Sara’s heads snapped to where a young Shifter whispered something urgently to the Alpha.

  “What’s going on?” Caro inquired, as a sudden hush descended on the room. Conversations paused as Shifters everywhere directed their heightened attention to their Alpha.

  “The Vampire Mistress is downstairs” Sara explained.

  Blutsaugers. At the gates of the Lair.

  Tasia’s heart quickened its beat abruptly, her body’s subconscious response to the presence of Vampires. Staying off the Clan’s radar had been th
e driving force of most of Tasia’s decisions her whole life. Some habits were hard to break. She took a deep breath to remind herself of her changed circumstances. There was no danger to her here. This was the Pack Lair. The Shifters were unlikely to allow any Blutsauger to step foot in here, she told herself.

  “Tas” Hawk called out softly. I have you, his eyes said silently, as he seemed to move infinitesimally closer to her. Hawk thought he knew why Tasia feared the leeches. Her father had once walked away from them after a dispute, causing the Clan to go after him with a vengeance. What Hawk didn’t know, and what Tasia had not told his Alpha, was that there was a deadlier reason for her to keep her distance from the Blutsaugers. Her kind was an abomination to them. They would not hesitate to hunt her down and exterminate her if so much as a hint wafted to them of the blood that flowed in her veins.

  Across the room, Raoul contemplated the young Shifter who’d brought him news that leeches waited at the Lair gates. This was uncharacteristic of Franciszka, he reflected. Especially after their last encounter, when he’d given her a taste of what he could do when crossed. That whole incident was still something of a mystery to him, though Raoul had managed to successfully shove the matter to the back of his mind. So much had happened since that fateful meeting with the Vampire Mistress that the Alpha could be forgiven for putting that little detail, shocking though it had been, on the back burner to deal with more important matters.

  “Escort her up in ten minutes, John” he directed. “She’s only allowed to bring one of her entourage with her. The rest stay in the parking lot.”

  “Got it, Alpha.” The young Shifter nodded before turning on his heels to stride away.

  “Luis” the Alpha remarked conversationally, waiting just moments for the Were-Alpha to materialize. “Make sure those leeches stay in the parking lot, and that Franciszka and her leech are properly escorted every second they spend in the Lair.”

  “I’ll take care of it.” Luis was succinct, as was his wont. He strode to the door, followed by his Shifters who’d overheard the Alpha’s commands as clearly as him.

  “Duncan.” The Alpha turned to his friend, only for the other Shifter to forestall him.

  “I’ve got it covered, Raoul” Duncan assured him.

  The Alpha watched Duncan stride towards where Tasia stood with Hawk and her friends. Initially alarmed by the presence of leeches, the witchling had calmed down. The throng of bodies packing the room made it hard for his Shifter senses to pick up on physiological signs, but Raoul could sense her emotions in the strange way he’d noted in recent weeks. That had been another puzzle for him, one superseded by the jolting shock he had received just this week. He was still reeling from the vision of her with Hawk on Telegraph Hill.

  “Problems, Raoul?” David Hamilton inquired from beside him.

  “No.” He shook his head. “It’s just Franciszka throwing a tantrum.”

  “That woman is impossible to deal with” the middle-aged woman beside Hamilton interjected. “You’re the only one that has a relationship with the local Clan, Raoul, amongst us all.” Her glance encompassed David Hamilton and some of the men by her side.

  “That’s because Raoul is the only one who engages with her” David stated evenly. “The rest of us choose to leave the local nest to their own devices, as long as they stay out of our way.”

  “She’s not that bad for a leech” Raoul said. “I’ve always found it better to engage with them than to leave them to their own devices.”

  “It helps that she has a healthy fear of crossing the Alpha” Maartje remarked, her grandmotherly smile belied by the sharpness of the faded eyes. “Unlike other Chosen, we Wyrs do not hesitate to demonstrate the savagery we’re capable of when the need arises.”

  “In my book, that makes the Wyrs the best of us all. We Chosen are all capable of great savagery, although some of us disguise it better” the middle-aged woman, who spoke for her kind, countered. “That the Wyrs refuse to dress it up is to your credit.”

  David Hamilton said nothing, studying the Ancient, who led her brethren in the city, as if seeing her for the first time.

  “Raoul” the Vampire Mistress greeted him from a few feet away. “How could you forget to invite me to your party, moj drogi?” she pouted prettily.

  A pasty-faced Vampire stood impassively beside her, his wary gaze on the crowd in the hall that watched them avidly. Two Shifters flanked the Vampires. These were two of Luis’ most experienced Shifters, Raoul noted with approval.

  “Franciszka.” Raoul strode forward to greet her politely.

  The Mistress’ eyes skimmed over the group of Shifters, Wizards and Ancients who surrounded the Alpha.

  “Did I lose my invitation in the mail, Raoul?” she inquired, her manner imperious, though Raoul could detect the hint of uncertainty in her eyes. “The Spell Casters and the First Ones are here at your invitation. Am I to assume that your invitation to us Pure Bloods has somehow gone astray?”

  Raoul studied her, as the room waited in hushed silence for his response. She was insulted, he realized. Possibly even hurt by his rejection of the leeches, when every other Chosen faction he dealt with in San Francisco had received an invitation. The Pack and the leeches had a decent relationship, even though their last interaction had not gone well for Franciszka. It had taken serious moxie for Franciszka to bring along her entourage and demand entry into the Lair. Her relationship with the local Wizards and Ancients was almost non-existent, like most local leech nests. Leeches tended to be defensive about being looked down upon by other Chosen. Raoul didn’t blame them for it — they had good reason. As he studied the Mistress’ defiant stand before the gathered guests, the memory of another Chosen, who had deemed herself superior to him and had been hell-bent on proving it, flashed through Raoul. With it came the old blinding burst of rage. More than most, he knew what it felt to be discriminated against, to be regarded as an inferior Magick by another Chosen. He had suffered unbearable agony for his supposed crime.

  “You’re very welcome here, Franciszka” he invited her graciously. “I apologize for the invitation going astray.”

  For a moment, she simply stared back at him, nonplussed by his response. A quiet murmur rippled through the room at the Alpha’s statement, but the Vampire Mistress seemed unaware of it, her attention focused on Raoul’s inscrutable face. Her Vampire companion seemed equally taken aback, his eyes keenly searching the Alpha’s expression.

  “The Pack values our relationship with you, Mistress, just as it does with the Wizards and Ancients of this city” the Alpha said firmly.

  That seemed to throw her even more off balance. Raoul met her eyes, his own impassive as he returned her regard. She was a tall, pale and bony woman who had once been a great beauty as a mortal. Now, the fine bones of her face just made her features look angular and sharp. Like most Undead that could afford it, she liked to live well. It usually reflected in her attire. Today, she had on a low cut floor-length gown of a color that could only be described as blood red. Rubies glittered in her ears and neck while a bracelet encircled her bony arm. Her dark hair had been elaborately dressed in an old-fashioned and complicated arrangement. She could be a formidable adversary, as Raoul knew, a shrewd and cunning leader with the trust of her nest. In the Undead world, leaders tended to lead the leeches like a cult — by overwhelming fear or by unfailingly inspiring their followers. Raoul knew that Franciszka led her leeches by inspiration. Not that she didn’t inculcate a healthy fear in her leeches should they choose to disregard her commands, but mostly, they followed her because they believed in her vision for their nest. Raoul didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her, but she certainly didn’t deserve to be humiliated for being who she was.

  “My Pure Bloods value our relationship with your Pack too, Alpha” she said formally, her manner suddenly more assured.

  “Will you make the introductions?” she asked, her eyes on the silent group flanking Raoul.

  “Of course. You know
my Were-Alphas, Atsá and Maartje. David Hamilton too, I believe. This is DiZeyla.”

  “She who leads the First Ones in this city” the Vampire Mistress acknowledged. “We finally meet.”

  From a distance, Tasia watched the Mistress intently, her attention focused on the woman to the exclusion of everyone around her. Calm now, her initial spurt of alarm drained away. She was part of this Pack. Despite any ambivalence regarding her future with them, she was here to stay for the probationary period. And she was confident that while the Alpha might not know exactly why she feared the Blutsaugers, he knew enough to make damn sure no Vampire got close to her tonight, or any other night, while she was under Pack protection.

  Tasia sent Hawk a reassuring smile as she caught his watchful eyes on her. Caro and Sienna were too busy staring at the two Vampires. Caro had probably never met any of the Clan before, but Sara cast concerned glances at her friend, her Shifter senses having picked up on Tasia’s initial alarm. Duncan, in his observant way, took note of the twins’ concern for their friend. It was time to distract them all, he decided. He didn’t intend to let the leeches’ presence spoil the party for the twins he had mentored since they’d joined the Pack as callow teenagers.

  “Ladies, have you sampled the fare yet?” he inquired.

  Tasia’s eyes snapped to his, recalled to her surroundings by his question.

  “No.” She shook her head.

  “Shall we?” His voice was mild, the brown eyes steady on her.

  Tasia agreed with alacrity. Duncan’s presence hovering reassuringly by her side signified protection. The Alpha had sent his trustiest Shifter to watch over her.

  “Does that woman always dress so …?” Caro inquired in a sibilant whisper as they made their way to the feast laid out for the guests.

  “Always” Hawk assented, his eyes dancing with mischief. “This is one of her more tasteful attires.”

  “Hawk” Sara protested laughingly.

  Duncan merely shook his head, attempting to suppress a grin, though Tasia noted that he didn’t censure Hawk for his loose tongue. The Vampires’ hearing rivalled that of the Shifters’.