Kenyon remained standing, his shoulders slumped. He smiled wanly down at me before he turned his attention to Conal. “The elders have finished deliberating. We've decided the censure was… ill-advised, and we've made a terrible mistake. We want you to remain as Alpha.”
“That's it?” Conal snapped. “You all followed a path the Marrok brothers led you down, but now, in the cold light of day, you've decided you made a mistake?”
Kenyon's eyes widened, and he held his hands up in front of his chest, in a gesture of appeasement. “We were wrong to allow Kurt and Udolf's rumor-mongering and rabblerousing to push us into censuring you.”
Conal shook his head, the gesture dismissive. “Thanks for letting me know.”
Ralph slumped back in his chair, staring at Conal in disbelief. “That's it?”
Conal's expression was hard. “I'll give it some thought. I'll let you know when I make a decision.”
“Conal…” Kenyon began uncertainly, “the pack needs you.”
“You weren't so fucking sure about that last night, were you?” Conal growled, and I wondered if I was the only one who heard the hurt behind his harsh words. The attempt to remove him as Alpha had hurt him deeply, more intensely than they might ever know. Conal was excellent at hiding his true emotions, but his desperation had been evident in his lovemaking last night. He'd been terrified of losing everything he'd ever known, and I could understand his desire to take his time in making up his mind. Clearly, I wasn't the only one suffering trust issues regarding the people surrounding us.
Kenyon placed a hand on Conal's shoulder, suddenly beginning to comprehend how wounded Conal was. “You'll let us know?”
“Sure,” Conal agreed gruffly. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. “I'll catch you later, Sugar. I'm going to head off, meet up with Goren and test out whether I can get into a Fae mind.”
“We'll come with you,” Matt said, seeing the worry in my eyes. “I'd like to see this ability you have.” He and Clint got up from the table, joining Conal as he strode out of the mess.
I watched them leave, Conal's shoulders tight with tension and my heart ached. I wished I could take his pain away, but recovery would take time.
Bhekimuzi stood up, glancing at his watch. “I'm due to start training in fifteen minutes.”
Kenyon slumped onto the chair beside me and dropped his elbows onto the table, holding his head in his hands.
“We didn't want to do it,” Ralph admitted. He leaned his elbows against the table, his hands clasped together beneath his chin.
“So? Why did you?” I demanded.
“Hell, Conal announcing you were his life mate… it forced us into it. We didn't really care about Conal dating you…” He flushed. “I don't mean that the way it sounded, what I mean—”
I grinned. “I know what you meant, Ralph.”
“Kurt has been the head of our elders for years, and up until yesterday… honestly, I would have sworn he was okay. Udolf is such a hothead, but being on the bottom rung of the elders' circle, we've never had to worry about him too much.”
“We should have known better,” Kenyon said tiredly. “The Marroks' have wanted to oust Conal, and Lyell before him, for years. Up until now, they've used other members of the pack to try and gain power,” Kenyon shook his head and huffed out a breath, “probably because they're both too gutless to face a challenge themselves. They've used seconds in their place, intending to put someone into the Alpha role and then control the new Alpha, from behind. Their previous attempts have failed, but Conal admitting to you being his life mate offered them the opportunity to censure Conal, kick him out that way.”
“Why are they so determined?” I questioned.
“It's the way of werewolves,” Ralph said. “Leadership of a pack is viewed as a prize, a position of power that many covet. The Marroks' want the prize.”
“It is the same with all supernaturals,” Epi spoke, reminding me that he still sat at the table with us. “Power is everything. We have seen that with the Drâghici – what you saw last night is just the same thing, on a smaller scale.”
“What Nonny said was true,” Kenyon admitted. “We need to change with the times, and we haven't done that. Udolf used our traditions against us, forced us into a decision which should never have been considered in the first place.”
Carefully lifting Patrick down from my shoulder, I placed the teat back in his mouth before I spoke. “You've hurt him. Surely you can understand that?”
“Shit,” Ralph grumbled, allowing a mouthful of air to whistle out from between his lips. “We've made a mess of this. Most of the god-damn pack seem to be determined that they'll be safer leaving our pack and joining yours. All because of some ridiculous pack law which should have been abolished years ago.”
“Even Conal felt tied to those traditions,” I admitted. “He worried about how he could resolve the situation. But Nonny's right. What you're trying to do – it's not working. Surely you can see that now?”
“Yes, we can. But we're now a pack without an Alpha, and that's a dangerous situation to be in,” Kenyon admitted. He sounded so weary and distressed over the events of the past day, I was sorry for him. I had no idea how old Kenyon was, but I noticed how his dark hair had grayed considerably in the past twelve months.
“What happened with Kurt and Udolf Marrok after we left?” I questioned.
“Nothing yet. We need to sort out the problem of not having an Alpha first. But we certainly can't trust them.”
And there it was, that same question of trust. It seemed that both within our group, and the subgroups that made up our population – we had some serious problems.
“Nonny was right,” Ralph said morosely. “The Drâghici and the Fae might be trying to destroy us, but it seems we're working against ourselves in many ways, and we need to find new ways forward.”
“I'll talk to Conal,” I conceded, “but I can't promise anything.”
Chapter 28: Testing Gilborg
When Ralph and Kenyon left the table, with a second reassurance that I would speak to Conal, Epi eyed me curiously. “How are you, Child?”
He'd been uncharacteristically silent through the conversation with Ralph and Kenyon and I narrowed my eyes at him. “I'm fine. Why?”
Epi shunted his glasses further up his nose before he returned my gaze. “You have been through a great deal these past months. I merely wondered how you were coping.”
“I'm fine,” I repeated. Patrick had finished the last of the bottle and I removed it from his mouth, placing it down on the table with a sigh. “Still no nightmares, if that's what you're trying to ask in a roundabout way.”
Epi's intense stare was unnerving. “I believe I prefer that you are not seeing Archangelo in your nightmares, Child. After what he did to you—”
“Let's not go there,” I muttered darkly. The thought of Archangelo's deceit and abuse was never far from my thoughts, but I didn't want to talk about it with Epi. I was already worrying about what would happen when I saw Archangelo again; an inevitable situation. Seeing him during a battle was something I fretted over, wondering if I could face off against him without fear. How could I survive having him standing in front of me, knowing what he'd done?
“As you wish,” Epi agreed mildly. “We shall discuss other things.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Such as?”
“How you intend to keep the Fae who remain on Aethelwine's side – and I assure you, the numbers are extensive – out of Zaen.”
“I haven't figured that out yet.”
“Your father may well be correct,” Epi suggested, crossing his arms on the table. “It may not be safe to return.”
I stared at him, shaking my head. “We need to go back to Zaen.”
“Why?”
“Because… because I don't know why. I just know.” It was the same question I'd been asking myself for a couple of days now, wondering why I was so hell-bent on returning to Zaen when I knew full well that the F
ae could enter the grounds without discrimination. It probably made more sense to remain hidden away. Yet the gut instinct; the one telling me we should return, wouldn't go away. And the longer I was kept calm with Jerome's concoction of analgesics, the stronger the instinct grew.
Epi sighed and got to his feet, straightening his tunic with a great deal of care. “As you wish, Child. But I fear we must come up with a plan of action before we attempt to return to the city.” He frowned, his blue eyes darkening with worry. “The battles we've faced in your absence were long and difficult. I would hate for us to face those dark days again, not without some protection against Aethelwine's troops.”
“I'll think of something,” I offered quietly.
With a nod, Epi turned to leave.
“Wait a minute. Don't you have something for me to do?”
Epi's shrug was non-committal. “After rebuilding the walls of Zaen, and last night's debacle, I'm giving you the day off.”
“Wow.” There might have been the smallest amount of sarcasm in my tone.
Epi lifted his eyebrows. “Make the most of it, Child. I fear our days of peace are numbered.”
≈†◊◊†◊◊†◊◊†≈
“Oh, praise the Goddess, I never thought I'd see the day,” Gabrielle intoned with a twinkle sparkling in her eye.
“What day?” I questioned, watching as she pulled up a chair and joined me at the table, exquisite as usual in tailored, navy blue shorts and a white halter-neck top.
“The day when you would be sitting around – relaxing.” She held out her arms, wiggling her fingers towards Patrick. “May I?”
I lifted Patrick from the crook of my arm and handed him over indulgently, watching as Gabby cuddled him close. “It's been nice to spend some time with Patrick, just the two of us,” I admitted as Patrick opened his eyes and stared up at Gabrielle.
She cooed softly, tickling his cheek with one long, perfectly manicured finger. “You are so perfect. Aunt Gabby loves you, little man.”
“Aunt Gabby?” I repeated with a wry smile.
“Do you mind?”
I shook my head. “No, of course not.”
Gabby lifted her gaze from Patrick to meet my eyes. “How are you doing?”
Nodding easily, I offered her a reassuring look. “I'm okay.”
“That's good to hear.”
“This afternoon has been kind of weird.”
“How so?”
“I don't usually have any time on my hands, and since I've rediscovered who I am, I've hit the ground running. It's been strange to sit around with nowhere to go, nobody expecting anything of me.” After Epi left, I'd been left with ample time and no plans. My first instinct had been to seek out Conal, but after consideration, I'd decided against it. I suspected he should have more time to think, without my interference. And secretly, I didn't think it would do the Tremaine pack any harm to sweat things out for a while longer.
Gabby grinned. “So? What have you done with this spare time of yours?”
I reached over, rubbing a finger across Patrick's dimpled little elbow. His perfection continually amazed me. He was still staring up at Gabby, studying her with a solemn expression. “Patrick and I have been visiting some of the new groups, meeting the families, talking to the people who've joined our side since… well, you know.”
Gabby assessed my face, her eyes flicking over my features before moving upwards to scan my aura. “Charlotte, I'm here to listen, if you want to talk. I'm sure there are some things you might be uncomfortable speaking to Conal about.”
“I'm doing okay,” I responded swiftly.
Gabrielle leaned forward to lay her fingers over mine on the table, and I realized I'd been tapping out a nervous rhythm on the plastic with my nails. “I know you are. But there will be times when you might want to talk. I know you have Rowena and the others, but I want you to know I'm willing to listen if you have a need to talk to someone who isn't quite so emotionally involved.”
I nodded, grateful for the gesture. “Gabby, back in Zaen – there was nothing you and the other witches could do to keep Aethelwine's Fae out?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Gabby admitted. “We did attempt several spells, but none was strong enough to resist Alberich Bran. He's using some powerfully dark magic in his incantations.” She shivered delicately. “Certainly, a dark magic I've never come across before.”
“Do you think there's any magic strong enough to keep them out?”
Gabby shook her head, her dark hair bobbing gently across her chin. “I don't know anything that'll work. All the witches who've joined us – and they're an extremely diverse group – nobody has seen anything like what Bran is doing. Epi believes Bran's found a previously unknown book of dark magic, perhaps something belonging to Enoch Bloodgood.”
I stared at her blankly. “Who?”
Gabby shivered again, and I watched goosebumps erupt over her skin. The expression in her eyes, the fear… it was tangible. “Enoch Bloodgood was a vampire warlock who was around at the time of the pharaohs. Of course, that wasn't his name then, Bloodgood is a name he took in medieval times. A dark, evil force who wanted control of the world. It was he who inflicted the plagues on Egypt; it was nothing to do with the God of Israel, which is what the Book of Exodus suggests.”
“Excuse me?” I thought I'd fallen straight back through the rabbit hole. “A warlock. And a vampire?”
“Speak to Bhekimuzi. He'll remember him,” Gabby suggested. “And Epi knows a lot about him. He died, was burnt at the stake, I believe it was in 1590 in North Berwick, Scotland.” She shook her head. “The man was evil. A menace. Rumors have spread for years that he'd hidden his very worst magical incantations, but they were never located after his death, and his home – he'd been living in Scotland for many years by then – was burnt to the ground with everything in it. Most people thought… hoped… his incantations and black magic died with him, but seeing what Bran can do…” Gabby's voice tapered off and she stared down at Patrick. “I suspect Bran's gotten hold of some of that magic.” When she looked up again, she seemed apologetic. “I'm sorry, Charlotte. I don't think we witches have a solution to the problem. In the end, before the walls fell, we were limiting ourselves to enchantments and wards to keep the Fae away from the gates, rather than warding the gates themselves. Everything we tried, Bran blew away.”
“I know you did your best.” I made a mental note, to speak with Bhekimuzi and Epi.
Gabby patted Patrick's leg. “I've heard a rumor you want us to go back to Zaen?”
I nodded. “I'm certain we should. Don't ask why, because I honestly don't know.”
Gabby was thoughtful for a moment or two. “You think we should return – even if we can't keep the Fae out?”
“I have to find a way,” I admitted, screwing up my nose doubtfully. “There has to be something we can use, to keep them out of the city.”
Gabby lapsed into thought again, her eyes focused on some distant point on the horizon. “Perhaps it won't be Epi or the witches who provide the solution.”
“What are you suggesting?”
Patrick grumbled a little bit and Gabby crooned to him, rocking him gently until his eyes closed, his lashes fanning out across his cheeks. “The city was built by Nememiah. You have the power to repair the city; you've fixed the generators once before and now, both the walls and the generators.”
“So?” I pressed. I couldn't see where she might be leading with this train of thought, but I was interested enough to find out.
“Think outside the square, Charlotte. If you can create the energy required to make generators work – who's to say you couldn't change the magic over the city itself, stop the Fae from entering? What if the magic guarding the city can be…?” Her voice tapered off as she thought. “I don't know what to call it… adjusted, perhaps? Altered to recognize the Fae who haven't had Nememiah's mark placed on them?”
The concept hung in the air between us, and I considered the possibility. M
y immediate reaction was to discount the idea as improbable – Nememiah had created Zaen, he'd made the shield stop anyone with demon blood entering. His abilities were vastly more powerful than my own. But I had fixed the generators – not once, but twice. And I assumed I must be packing a fair punch to rebuild the walls. “I guess it's a possibility.”
“I'm certain it is,” Gabby agreed, sounding far more confident than I felt.
I scanned the mess as I deliberated, my gaze wandering over the late afternoon groups enjoying a hot drink, or a snack. Some were eating an early dinner, or a late lunch, depending on your point of view, I supposed. From my vantage point, I could see Nonny bustling around behind the counter, overseeing what her staff was doing, tasting samples of tonight's menu, ordering people around – totally and utterly in control of her domain. Maybe that's what I needed to do with Zaen. Take control and find some way, as Gabby suggested, of reworking the power.
Movement at the entrance caught my eye and I turned my attention to the group entering. Conal was walking towards our table, and with him, Arasinya and Goren. They'd nearly reached us before I noticed Gilborg following behind them and I tensed instinctively with his appearance.
“May we sit down, Little One?” Goren asked formally.
Eyeing Gilborg with suspicion, I indicated the empty chairs. “Sure.”
Gabby handed Patrick back and stood up. “I'll leave you for now. Remember what I said, Charlotte. If you want to talk – anytime.”
I smiled my thanks, before turning to Conal. He looked relaxed and calm and I wondered if he'd come to a decision regarding his pack. He leaned forward, cupping my cheek against his palm and brushing his lips over mine. “How's Paddy doing?”
“Full of milk and happy, apparently,” I reported, glancing down at my sleeping son. I leaned back against the seat, eyeing Gilborg uncertainly before I turned to Goren. “What's up?”
It was Gilborg who responded. The tall elf seemed to dwarf the plastic chair he sat on, his erect frame stiff and unyielding. “I requested a meeting with you, Nememiah's Child.”
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