Witch Wolf

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Witch Wolf Page 8

by Winter Pennington

Finally, Rosalin whimpered her submission. When she didn’t move, I stood.

  “Do that again,” I said carefully, so that my words were clear, “and I can’t promise you I won’t rip your throat out, Rosalin.”

  She gave me a considering look. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “Yeah, well,” I said, closing my eyes and focusing on my breathing, replacing the bars with bricks, “I don’t like being provoked, let alone fucking attacked.”

  “We had to establish where we stand with one another at some point,” she said.

  Lenorre spoke, and her voice crept like a chill throughout the room. “Rosalin, Kassandra can partially shift and you cannot. That should have told you where you stand with her.” She stood from the couch, tossing the train of her dress over one arm and looking down at the other woman. “As should the fact that Kassandra bears the mark of an alpha, which you do not.”

  “Sheila doesn’t either,” Rosalin spat.

  “No,” Lenorre said and looked at me. “She does not.”

  “She’s our leader,” Rosalin whispered.

  “And a weak one at that,” Lenorre said.

  “She’s led the pack for eight years. How could she lead the pack for eight years and be weak?” Rosalin’s eyes widened with the question. She still lay on the floor.

  Lenorre looked at me when she said, “Sheila finds others to do her dirty work, and given her history for sadism, very few of the wolves wish to challenge her, for fear of losing and falling victim to her,” she gave a dramatic pause and said, “skills.”

  There was a deep and thoughtful look in her silvery eyes. She was telling me something. What she had just told me was something very important.

  “Sheila?” I asked.

  “Rosalin,” Lenorre said, “it is time for you to leave.”

  Rosalin didn’t challenge Lenorre, she simply got to her feet. She stopped near the door and looked at me. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Please, try to find my brother.”

  “I will,” I said.

  “Kassandra?”

  I turned my attention to Lenorre, but said, “What?”

  “If you need anything, another wolf to talk to…I’m here.”

  I heard the door close behind her, not bothering to watch her go.

  “Sheila Morris,” Lenorre said, “is the alpha female.” She sat back down on the couch. I leaned against the love seat, resting my butt on the arm. Lenorre’s eyes dropped for a second and then met my gaze again. “I fear that whoever has committed your murders may be the same person that has taken Rosalin’s brother.”

  “The thought crossed my mind,” I admitted. “There’s a chance it’s a lone wolf.”

  Lenorre stood in a fluid movement and came closer.

  “A chance,” she whispered, looking down at me.

  I looked up into her beautifully surreal gaze. I wondered how much I should tell her. If I didn’t tell her that I knew for a fact that the urine near the crime scene had been left behind by a male werewolf, was I leaving too much out? If I did tell her, would she help me? What it ultimately came down to was how much I had to gain versus how much I risked.

  She smiled. “Kassandra?”

  “Hmm?”

  “What are you thinking?” The words themselves were innocent, but the tone in her voice seemed darkly intimate. It made me shudder to hear it.

  “If I tell you something,” I said, holding her gaze, “will you give me your aid?”

  “My aid?” she asked, and then smiled. “I’ve already given it once tonight, have I not?”

  I nodded. “You have, but…”

  She touched my jaw with the tips of her fingers and I resisted the urge to look away from the intensity in her gaze.

  “You have my aid.”

  “The werewolf that committed the murder claimed the kill,” I said. “It was distinctively male.”

  Lenorre looked thoughtful for several moments before she spoke. “There are several male lycanthropes within the pack.”

  “Oh goody,” I murmured sarcastically. “That narrows it down.”

  Lenorre lifted her pale shoulders in a shrug. “I know Sheila has introduced one new male member to the pack within the past month,” she said.

  I stared at her, suddenly wondering why she was helping me. Why would a countess vampire give her aid so easily to someone she didn’t know?

  “You wonder why I so freely offer my aid to you?”

  “Yes.” I gave her a look. “You didn’t read my mind, did you?”

  “Oh, no.” She laughed, moving closer. When I didn’t back up, she trailed her nails lightly down the side of my neck.

  My pulse sped in response.

  “Body language,” she murmured. “The rhythm of one’s heart. These things offer clues and answers to what one is thinking or feeling.” Her last words ended with a purr.

  I jerked to my feet and side-stepped, putting the arm of the couch between us. If I didn’t, I was going to end up leaning into her touch. I hadn’t been affected by another woman in a long time. In fact, I steered clear of relationships and sex altogether, ever since I’d been infected. It just wasn’t safe. One thing I was sure about was that Lenorre affected me. She called to something inside me that’d been long sleeping.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Why are you toying with me, Lenorre? Why are you helping me?”

  Lenorre moved with lethal grace, following me as I backed away from the couch. “Toying?” The question sounded innocent. The devious look in her very gray eyes was anything but that. She kept moving toward me.

  I changed the subject. “You know I work with the police?”

  She grinned. “Is that some kind of veiled threat?”

  “No,” I lied, “but you do know I work for them?”

  “Yes. You were a police officer, once. You quit when you were infected, did you not?”

  I stopped. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a little creepy?”

  Her eyes shone with amusement. “No.” She lifted the corner of her mouth in a half smile. “Why would they?”

  “You’re telling me that you’re completely oblivious to the fact that normal people don’t find out someone’s entire life story?”

  “I do not know your entire life story, Kassandra,” she said, giving me a look. “I am also not people.” She smiled a quick smile, giving me the briefest glimpse of her dainty fangs. “How long amongst your humans have you spent in hiding?”

  I didn’t answer that.

  Lenorre filled the silence that followed. “When I take an interest in a thing, I like to learn what I can about it. As an investigator, I am sure you can relate.”

  I understood—what I didn’t understand was why she’d taken such an interest in me.

  “You are frowning,” Lenorre said, searching my face. “Why?”

  “I’m not sure whether to feel insulted that you just referred to me as a thing or to feel positively confused at the fact that you took such an interest in me to begin with.”

  One minute Lenorre was standing there—the next, she was gone. I took a step back. Arms slipped around my waist from behind.

  I jumped.

  Her breath was warm against my neck. Some part of my mind screamed, Run, run! But I didn’t.

  “Suffice it to say,” she whispered against my hair, “I have my reasons.” Her mouth moved behind my ear, lips touching my skin.

  I forced myself to focus on my breathing. In through my nose and out through my mouth. I could taste her smell of cinnamon and cloves like a piece of candy on my tongue.

  “I will send Rosalin home with you,” she whispered. “There are things that you may learn from her, things that are pertinent for you to know.”

  A second later her arms slipped away from me. It was strange, the profound sense of loss I felt at their removal.

  I looked at her. “Are you doing something?”

  “Doing what?” she asked, offering a slow blink that showed off the glorious length of her eyelashes
like onyx butterfly wings.

  I closed my eyes, taking another deep breath and taking stock of the energies in and around me.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Thank you, for your aid.”

  Great, if she wasn’t using vampires’ wiles on me it meant the shit was real. Not good.

  Lenorre looked amused. “It is my pleasure,” she said.

  My stomach did another little flip. It was time to get the fuck out. I was getting way too comfortable. Or uncomfortable. Whatever.

  I stopped at the door, turning to look at her. “Why, again, are you sending Rosalin home with me?”

  Lenorre gave me a look, as if to say, “isn’t it obvious?” but what she said was, “Rosalin knows the details of pack structure and can inform you about everything that you have so willingly chosen not to be a part of since you were infected. It is easier. She is trustworthy,” she said as if to reassure me. “If we are to work together, if I am to give you my aid, then you must trust me, as I must trust you, Kassandra.”

  At first, it made sense. It was logical. Then it didn’t make any sense at all. My mind went over it, and then it made absolute perfect sense to me.

  “You’re using her to spy on me,” I said.

  “If I am?” she asked, raising her chin. “Tell, what would you do about it?”

  “I could simply refuse to take her home with me.”

  “I could simply refuse to offer my aid,” she stated plainly.

  “How manipulative of you,” I said.

  Lenorre smiled, and since I had no idea what the smile meant, I opened the door and stepped out into the boisterous energy of the club. I closed my eyes, visualizing a dark cloak surrounding my aura, a cloak that would keep the energy out. I didn’t know how long it would last. I wasn’t sure if the wolf would try to rise again or not, but thought it best to hurry. I made my way down the steps, scanning the pulsing crowd of people, looking for Rupert. I spotted him against the far wall and waited at the end of the stairs as he pushed through the dancing crowd.

  As he made his way toward me, I noticed the bruise blossoming under his left eye.

  “What happened?” he bent toward me to shout over the music.

  “What happened?” I shouted back. “What the hell happened to your face?”

  “I tried to follow you. One of her vampires got physical trying to stop me.”

  “Is the vampire still alive?”

  “Yes,” he grumbled, very unhappily. “I know when it’s my own damn fault.”

  “Thanks for trying to make sure I was safe.”

  “No problem.” He touched his cheek, wincing. “I didn’t expect her to take a swing when she told me no. What happened? What did she want?”

  I held up a hand, keeping the image of the impenetrable cloak in my mind. “Later,” I said, “I’ll tell you later.”

  He put a heavy hand on my shoulder. At the waft of oil and sweat that hit my nostrils, I focused on drawing my shields down tighter. “Are you okay?” he asked.

  I shrugged his hand off my shoulder. “Not a good idea to touch me,” I said. “Not here. Let’s go.”

  “All right,” he said. “You better tell me what happened. I just freely admitted that some tiny chick with fangs clobbered my face with her itsy-bitsy fist.”

  Under any other circumstances I probably would’ve started poking fun at him, but now wasn’t the time. I started working my way around the crowd. I was almost to the doors when a tall man with chin-length black hair blocked my way.

  His eyes were a light blue, like the eyes of a Siamese cat. He smiled and his labret piercing caught the light, winking, but that wasn’t what caught my attention. It was the pair of fangs he was showing off. His hand went to the door, as if he would open it.

  “Sure you don’t want to stay for a bite?” he asked in a drawling tone. His smile broadened to a grin.

  The cool airy scent of vampire caressed my face.

  I held up my wrist with the black band. “Not unless you’re offering,” I said.

  I watched as the knowledge of what I was slid through his eyes. He threw his head back and laughed.

  Rosalin’s voice rang clear above the thrumming music. “Stanley,” she said, “leave them alone.”

  I didn’t take my eyes off the vampire in front of me. I sensed Rupert standing by like a quiet and deadly shadow.

  Stanley flung the door open and stepped out of the way. He bowed and swept his arm back in a dramatic gesture.

  “I’ll not cross fangs with you, daughter of the moon.”

  I shook my head and walked past him with Rupert and Rosalin not far behind.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rupert drove back to Guns Unlimited so that I could get my car. Rosalin buckled her seat belt, sitting behind him.

  I leaned back between the seats and fished out the black duffel bag I’d stuffed my knives and guns in, putting the wrist sheaths back on, sliding into the shoulder holster, looping the small of the back holster through my jeans, and plucking the jacket from the floorboard. I buttoned the jacket up over the weapons and put on my seat belt.

  Rupert turned the key in the ignition.

  “So,” he said, flicking his gaze to the rearview mirror. “why is she in my backseat?”

  I shot him a blank look. “She’s helping me.”

  “She’s not connected to the murder?”

  I looked at her then. She didn’t say anything.

  I sighed. “No,” I said, “but someone in her pack might be.”

  Rosalin spoke up from the backseat. “Sheila didn’t do it.”

  “I know that,” I said.

  “How?” Rosalin and Rupert asked in unison.

  I smiled darkly. “’Cause I do.” I wasn’t going to tell Rosalin. I might have told Lenorre, but I didn’t trust Rosalin, not just yet.

  “Well, I guess that’s good,” she mumbled. “Sheila doesn’t kill her victims.”

  “Who’s Sheila?” Rupert asked, taking his eyes off the road for a second.

  “The alpha female of the local werewolf pack,” I answered.

  Rosalin said rather cryptically, “You’re lucky we didn’t know you were there, Kassandra.”

  “Rosalin,” I said, “part of my job description is not getting caught.” I turned back to Rupert. “Here’s the breakdown,” I said. “The countess vampire, Lenorre, has agreed to help me with this case. Rosalin is also helping me.”

  “You think your case coincides with her missing brother?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t be sure.” I turned to Rosalin. “You agree to talk to me, correct? You do realize that in order for me to find your brother I have to know more about your pack?”

  Rosalin muttered under her breath. “If one of the pack members touched him, they’re dead.” Her voice shook with anger. “Yes. I’ll talk, if it’s the only way to help you solve your case and for you to find my brother.”

  “Do you think it’s safe taking her home with you?” Rupert asked as if Rosalin wasn’t in the seat behind him.

  “Rosalin?” I asked.

  “If you think I’m going to tell someone where you live, I won’t. Lenorre has made it perfectly clear that you are under her protection—even the pack wouldn’t risk challenging her. I certainly wouldn’t risk it alone,” she said. “Besides, to break the trust of another Lykos goes against pack law, whether you’re a member or not.”

  “Lykos?” Rupert asked.

  “It’s Greek for ‘wolf,’” I said.

  Rosalin nodded.

  “You’re not involved with them,” Rupert said. “How do you know?”

  “I took mythology in college, remember? A lot of the studies we did covered a very broad spectrum of mythos.”

  “I know the pack structure of a wolf pack is similar to the wolf packs in the wild,” Rupert said, “but just how structured are they?”

  Rosalin met his gaze in the rearview mirror. “I can’t share that information with you.”

  Rupert smiled. “Th
at answers my question.”

  Rosalin frowned at him.

  “What does the Countess of Oklahoma want with you, Kassandra?”

  “I’m not exactly sure, but I’m guessing she’s trying to stay on the good side of publicity and in everyone’s good graces.”

  Rosalin laughed from the backseat. “Lenorre,” she said, “trying to stay in everyone’s good graces.” She laughed. “That you think so shows you don’t know her very well.”

  I frowned. “I don’t know her.” I turned as much as the seat belt would allow. “Which brings to mind,” I said, “how do you know her and how well do you know her?”

  “I work for her,” she said. “I wait tables at the club.” She grinned. “I make good tips. I also happen to live with her, so yeah…I know her fairly well.”

  “You live with her?” Rupert gave her a disbelieving look in the mirror.

  For some reason, the idea of Rosalin living with Lenorre really didn’t sit well with me. Were they lovers? Was that why she lived with her? I frowned.

  “Yes,” she said, “I live with her. I take care of her house. She offers me a place to stay.”

  “Why aren’t you living with the pack?” I asked. “Are you lovers?”

  Rosalin’s honey brown eyes sparkled, even in the dark. “I’m happy where I’m at,” she said. “It works for me. No, we’re not lovers. Lenorre doesn’t take lovers.”

  It was my turn to give her a disbelieving look. Lenorre, the countess who had oozed her sex appeal all over me, didn’t take lovers. Right. I don’t turn furry once a month, either.

  If you asked me, that seemed a little absurd.

  When we arrived at Guns Unlimited I wondered: If she wasn’t looking for good publicity, what in the world did Lenorre want with me?

  *

  Rosalin was silent on the drive back to my apartment. I’d spent five minutes reassuring Rupert that I would be fine with her. He didn’t seem to think so. I disagreed with him, because even though Rosalin’s wolf had challenged mine, I’d understood it. It pissed me off, still, but I couldn’t say I didn’t understand. Rosalin and I knew where we stood with one another now, and on the human level she’d been nothing but polite and friendly. Hell, she was worried about her brother. That she couldn’t fake.

 

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