by H. D. Gordon
I did not need my Wolf senses to see that they were not at all pleased with this development.
Emilia’s gaze was particularly penetrating, and I knew without having to ask that she was recalling the handsome, dark-haired stranger I’d followed out of the tavern last night, recalling our conversation about a roll in the hay.
I waited a moment to see if she would tell the others, and when she didn’t, I said, “He’s not on official business. The Hound is looking into Ezra’s disappearance as a personal favor to a friend… So that’s good.”
“Do you think he’s going to question us?” Cecelia asked.
I nodded slowly. “I imagine he will, yes. Which is why I don’t want you all staying at the cathouse anymore. The rent Ezra had on the building is almost up, anyway, and Kyra has arranged for you to stay with her until this blows over… But if you do run into the Hound, and he asks you questions, all you have to do is stick to the original story.”
Cora tossed her hands up and shook her head, her fangs peeking out over her red lips.
Nyla blew out a breath and went over to one of the barrels to refill her glass of moonshine. With wild curly hair and skin that was a shade deeper than my own, the female’s beauty was only matched by her devil may care attitude. “So what?” she said, casting an unimpressed glance at Cora. “We already lied to the local Hounds, what’s one more?”
Zara was the youngest Wolf among us at eighteen years, and also the least vocal. In her quiet voice, she said, “How do you know he’s here on a personal matter?”
I sucked in air through my teeth as I leaned back a little on my heels, my hands sliding into my pockets. I’d decided when coming here that I wouldn’t lie about what had happened between Erek and me, not if they asked me directly.
I had just been hoping that no one would ask me directly.
“See what had happened was,” mumbled Kyra, who’d been watching me with that unfailing amusement in her violet eyes, even when there was nothing funny about a situation.
I shot her a glare so that she knew I didn’t appreciate the humor at the moment. She only blinked innocently back at me.
“I spent the night with him,” I admitted.
So many eyebrows shot up that they could have lifted the top right off the mountain we currently stood in.
I was very careful to keep my tone from becoming defensive when I added, “I didn’t know he was a Hound, obviously, and it was just a one-time thing. He told me Ezra was the brother of a friend of his, and his friend asked him to look into Mr. Ikers’ disappearance.”
“Well, that’s just great,” Cora said again.
I met the female Vampire’s gaze, and whatever was behind mine made her snap her mouth shut and actually fidget a little, which her kind almost never did. The others did not fail to notice this silent exchange, and they, too, leveled their expressions.
“As long as we keep our heads down and stick to the story,” I continued slowly, “we have nothing to worry about.”
“We don’t really have a choice, do we?” Emilia said in that smooth unearthly way the Fae had of speaking. “As Nyla said, we already lied to the locals. We’re all in this together. There’s no going back now.”
I was relieved that one of them had voiced the acknowledgement of everyone’s implication, but thought it unnecessary to reiterate. Instead, I took the shot of shine Kyra brought me and tipped it back. Then, I met the ladies’ gazes again.
“Actually,” I said, “I want to offer you all one last chance at exit. One last chance to say you want out now.”
There were exchanged glances and wary expressions all around, but I’d spent the morning pouring over what my words to the ladies should be, what my next moves should be.
“With the last batch we each earned a good amount of money,” I said.
Nyla nodded. “More than I ever earned in a month selling my body,” she replied.
The looks on the rest of their faces said they agreed.
“If you decide you want out, now is the time,” I told them. “I’ll match your recent earnings if that’s the case, which will be enough for you to leave the Southlands and go wherever. Enough to start a new life somewhere else—not enough to sustain that life over time, but a start. The only thing I’d ask is that you don’t return, and if someone asks you about what happened to that bastard Ezra, you stick to the story.”
This last part, I did feel needed reiteration.
Silence fell, and I watched their faces as they weighed this offer. After a moment, Zara said, “You’d just let us leave, Dita?”
I nodded. “I told you the first day I met you,” I said. “I’m not him.”
Again, silence. Everyone save for Nyla and Kyra seemed to be considering it, and I wondered if this idea had been a mistake. But I really had spent the last two thirds of the day thinking intently about it, and I’d come to the conclusion that short of killing them, freeing them might be the only way to keep them silent if they started feeling like they couldn’t handle the pressure.
And despite what I’d done to Ezra Ikers, I did not just go around killing people whenever I saw fit.
“You have a day to decide,” I told them. “And then I’ll need an answer.”
I made it back to The Mound in time to tuck the twins into bed. Tomorrow was the start of a new week, and they had school bright and early.
To my delight, when I slid down into my spot in the corner of the back room, sleep found me swiftly, and I was effectively dead to the world until the pale light of dawn broke through the single window the next morning.
As it had been doing these past few weeks, the sound of a gunshot had echoed through my nightmares, and I awoke with a gasp and a hand gripping at my chest. I sat pulling in deep breaths for several moments before I was able to calm myself.
Then, it was time to rush around in our pre-school routine, gathering lunch bags and backpacks and tying shoelaces. Despite the full night of sleep, I was still exhausted from the long weekend and the rollercoaster of revelations it had been, and the walk to the schoolhouse in Borden seemed much longer than usual.
I was biting back a yawn when Delia said, “You spoke to the Carters.”
It was not a question, so I didn’t offer an answer.
“You must have,” Delia continued, eyeing me in that sharp way of hers as she tucked a piece of her dark honey-colored hair behind her ear.
“Why do you say that?” I asked.
“I’m not a kid anymore, Dita. I’m not stupid,” she said.
I resisted the urge to smooth her hair back in a motherly manner. She was only twelve, so she was very much still a kid, but I remembered being much the same way when I was her age.
That was only nine years ago, but it seemed like an eternity between then and now.
“I know you’re not stupid,” I said, seeing she was waiting for a reply.
“Sinta Carter came and apologized to me,” Delia said. “She looked like she’d been crying all morning.” She huffed and looked up at the path ahead. “I almost felt sorry for her.”
As I searched for words, I studied the world around me. We were passing one of the many lavender wheat fields that occupied the area, and the workers were already knee-deep in their work. The Winter Harvest was only a moon cycle and a half away, and there was still so much labor to be done.
“If you’d seen the privilege she comes from you wouldn’t feel sorry for her at all,” I told my little sister as I watched the twins and the other children bouncing along the path ahead.
“I’m not at all sure that makes it right,” Delia muttered, kicking at a rock. It tumbled down the walk ahead of us.
I sighed, my hands clenching in my pockets. It wasn’t that I was angry with my little sister for likely being right; it was just that I was frustrated, and tired. I was trying to raise my siblings like a parent, but the truth was that I had no idea what I was doing, and having basically raised myself didn’t really qualify as parental experience. My father an
d Jodi were worthless. As far as they were concerned, us kids could take to working the fields or the mines. Upward mobility was not a thought that even occurred to them.
So I knew my intentions were pure when it came to my siblings, but sometimes—like right now—it seemed as though no matter how hard I tried, I could never do anything right.
“What do you want me to say, Delia?” I asked. “She’ll leave you alone now. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I want to not be from The Mound,” she said quietly, and I would never have told her, but the words hurt my soul.
I wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and was silently relieved when she didn’t pull away.
“Soon,” I promised. “I just need a little more time. I’m going to get us out of here. Far away from The Mound and everything that goes with it.”
We were approaching the small schoolhouse now, and Delia stepped out of my embrace as we neared.
“I know,” she said before heading inside with the others. “But sometimes soon feels like forever.”
As I watched her go, I didn’t bother saying that I wholeheartedly agreed.
My conversation with Delia distracted me, and I attribute this to the fact that I didn’t notice the Hound until he had already noticed me.
“Dita,” Erek said, “I was hoping to run into you.”
In all honesty, I actually considered just running away abruptly, pretending I hadn’t heard him even though I obviously had and darting off like some lunatic. But I’d told the ladies to be cool about this whole situation, and that applied to me, too.
So instead of running off like my tail had caught fire, I offered him a half smile. “Hello, Erek,” I said in my smoothest voice, and assured myself that this greeting was totally normal and not suspicious at all.
The male fell into step beside me as I rounded the corner of a brick building and headed toward a more residential, less busy part of the small town.
As I looked over at him, I had to admit that in all my ruminating over the past twenty-four hours, I’d forgotten how handsome he was. He was built strong and lean, and the contrast of his bright green eyes and black hair was certainly striking.
For a Hound, I reminded myself sternly.
“You’re out early,” Erek said.
“Yes, well, early bird and all that,” I replied, trying to quicken my steps without making my haste seem too obvious.
Erek kept stride beside me. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I might think you’re trying to avoid me.”
I looked over at him, raised a brow. “You’re rather intuitive, aren’t you?”
Erek laughed at this, the sound deep and genuine. “Let me buy you some coffee,” he said.
I pulled out my timepiece, pretending to check it, and shook my head. “Sorry, but I can’t. I have to be somewhere.”
When he gently took my hand, I had to tell myself not to snap at him. I was not someone who allowed people—specifically males—to touch me without my very exclusive consent.
Despite the fact that I managed not to growl, whatever expression came to my face must have said it for me, because Erek released his hold instantly.
He took a step back and held up his hands, palms out, as if to say he hadn’t meant any harm. The little smile that pulled up his lips was annoyingly appealing, and even though I’d forced all thoughts of our previous encounter out of my mind, I could do nothing against the heat that spiraled in my stomach just looking at him.
“Please?” he said.
With a sigh and a warning from my better judgment, I agreed, telling myself that the only reason why I did so was to prevent him from becoming suspicious of me in his search for Ezra Ikers.
That, and only that.
Chapter 14
The smell of roasting coffee beans was intoxicating.
The bitter drink was expensive, and not one that I had the opportunity to indulge in often. I liked the stuff, but when one had spent their whole life only being able to purchase the most basic of necessities, things like coffee did not even come close to the list of priorities.
Currently, I sat in the chair at the little desk in the small room. It looked the same as any other room in any other inn, with a bed and a bathing room and wooden walls that matched the floorboards. Erek’s briefcase was nowhere in sight, nor were the various pieces of parchment that had been scattered atop the desk the last time I was here.
“Sugar?” Erek asked, as he prepared two mugs of the dark, steamy liquid.
Leaning back in the chair, I shook my head. “No,” I said.
Erek’s handsome face lit up as one side of his mouth drew upward. “I should’ve guessed that,” he said as he added two cubes to his own cup and handed me the other.
He’d drawn over the other chair in the room, and now he took a seat across from me. Over the rim of the cup, I pulled my eyes away before they could linger too long on the lean muscles of his stomach.
Trouble was, I raised my gaze and was captured by the brilliant green of his eyes. He stared right back, rubbing slowly at the dark stubble along his jaw, and then took a long sip of his coffee.
“Tell me about yourself, Dita,” he said as he lowered the cup.
It took some effort not to stiffen, but I was nothing if not a master of the mask I often wore. “What would you like to know?” I asked.
Erek’s straight white teeth peeked out behind a small smile as his emerald eyes went to my lips. “Anything,” he said. He met my eyes again. “Everything.”
I sipped slowly at my coffee so that I could form a response, but also to quell the bit of heat that was spiraling in my stomach as he looked at me the way he currently was.
“I’m afraid it’s a rather boring story, Mr. Blackwood,” I replied.
He leaned back in his chair, his head tilting in a Wolf-like manner. “Somehow I very much doubt that,” he said.
I held his gaze and didn’t break it; a game all Wolves learned to play early on in their existence. To hold another Wolf’s gaze was a challenge. It was a silent battle for dominance, and whoever broke eye contact first was the clear loser. Meeting my father’s bloodshot, half mad gaze over the years had turned me into quite the opponent.
But, admittedly, Erek was not so bad at it himself.
“I would much rather hear about you,” I said. “Did you always want to be a Hound?”
Erek shifted a little in his chair, the muscles in his arms and chest flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt. He’d left the top two buttons undone, and his tan skin peaked out from beneath. He ran a hand through his dark hair, never breaking my gaze.
“Yes,” he said. “My father was one, and his father before him. I come from a long line of them.”
I nodded, sipping at my coffee, still holding his green eyes over the rim of my cup.
“What?” he said.
“Nothing.”
His head tilted again, and a lock of ebony hair fell across his forehead. “Why do I get the feeling this answer doesn’t please you?” he asked.
Intuitive, indeed.
I shrugged. “You said a long line of them. Does that line stretch back to the Dog Days?”
The Hound shifted again in his chair, and I didn’t let a smug smile spread on my lips despite the impulse.
“Things were different back then,” he said.
“Indeed they were. Some of us were slaves, others Masters… and others still, the hands of the Masters… Some would argue the hands were the worst of them all.”
Erek went silent, and when he broke my gaze to look down at his shoes, I didn’t feel any of the triumph that usually followed victory. I honest to Gods didn’t know why I’d said those things. The male was certainly not responsible for the sins of his forefathers… And, yet, it was a starkly honest observation on my part. Hounds had not always been the law enforcement of our world. In fact, they’d started out as the right hands of the violent Pack Masters who’d enslaved and oppressed their own kind.
Being from t
he slums, I was certainly not the only one who felt a deep-rooted animosity for the Hounds. Not by a long shot.
“I don’t agree with what my ancestors did,” Erek said after a moment, his voice low and his handsome face earnest enough to make me want to shift in my seat. “But I take my job seriously, and I try to do what’s right, to live by a moral code that’s just… I know a lot of people who can’t say the same.”
I knew that this was not meant to be a personal jab at me, mostly because the male didn’t know enough about me to make such an assessment, but that didn’t stop my jaw from clenching a bit.
“Fair enough,” I said, and then, carefully, added, “How is your investigation going? Any luck?”
Erek sighed, looking relieved to move onto a different topic, even if that topic was not much lighter in content. “A little,” he admitted, rubbing at his jaw again. “Some of the dock workers said they heard a loud bang the morning before Ezra went missing.”
Now it took considerable control on my part to only appear appropriately interested as the sound of the gunshot that had been echoing in my dreams these past few weeks replayed in my head. And even though I was absolutely certain the cut of my jacket concealed them (I’d had the jacket tailored specifically for this purpose) the duel revolvers around my waist felt suddenly ten pounds heavier.
“Oh?” I said.
Erek nodded. “Yeah, but that doesn’t make sense. Doesn’t fit with the story the working ladies gave the local Hounds and newspapers. None of them mentioned a loud noise or explosion.”
I pretended to consider this, tucking some of my dark hair behind my ear. “Loud noises are not so uncommon near the docks,” I provided.
Erek blew out a heavy breath. “Yes, I guess so, but I still need to have a talk with those ladies, and maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea to do a more thorough search of the cathouse.”
Since insisting this would be a stupid, awful, terrible idea would be too suspicious, I simply nodded and sipped at my almost-gone coffee. The bastard had not been lying about taking his job seriously.