“No.” Felicia tossed her twig at his chest. “Never in the Lady’s cycle am I going to go back because things might be different this time. I’m not that stupid.” She didn’t realize she’d fallen back into English until halfway through, but she went with it, emphasizing how little accent she had compared to him.
Enrique held up his hands. “I completely understand. I didn’t come to try to coax you back or something.” He dropped his hands, but to her waist, fingertips settling lightly over her hips. Easy enough for her to pull away, but one of his thumbs happened to slip under her shirt hem and slide over bare skin above her jeans, and she got distracted. He smiled, a slow expression. “Like I said. Time to get out and see the world and its beauties.”
His accent wasn’t so bad after all. Felicia knew his compliment wasn’t particularly special to her, that he’d say that to any Were he wanted to charm into a game of chase, but she smiled anyway. “You just wanted to get out of the city.”
Enrique shook his head, amused, as if that accusation was too patently untrue to deserve a reply. He wasn’t that much taller than her, something that must have been true before she’d left as well, but she’d never had a chance to realize it so viscerally as when he leaned in to kiss her.
“Does that line work on South American girls?” Tom stuffed his hands into his pockets after closing the back door, but the way his strides ate up the distance across the yard spoiled his nonchalant act. “If you’re here to roam, go roam.”
“Why do you care, Tom?” Felicia jerked her head away from Enrique and stepped out to block Tom before he could get too close to Enrique. Tom looked over her shoulder and tried to catch the other man’s eyes for a dominance contest anyway, but she held up her hand to block that too. “It’s not like he’s impinging on territory you wanted.”
Tom’s eyes flicked to hers and then away. His mouth twisted like he’d bitten into something rotten and he turned away. “Fine. Whatever.”
Felicia watched him slouch back across the yard, fighting a sick feeling in her stomach. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She couldn’t have anyone watching her with Enrique too closely, though. It would soon become noticeable that they already knew each other. Besides, Tom going all hackle-y when he’d passed up that right was damn annoying.
A chuckle behind her jerked her attention back Enrique. “He doesn’t appreciate what he’s passing up, if I understood that right,” he said. This time, Felicia smacked him. Enough was enough. She wasn’t going to be swayed by a gorgeous face and a bunch of empty compliments.
He dropped his head, acknowledging the rebuke. “I would like to see the local sights, though. If you’d be willing to show me?”
Felicia looked back at the house a final time. Tom was out of sight again, probably back at Silver’s side, dancing loyal attendance on his alpha. It seemed lazy to take the afternoon off, but other than filling out yet more applications, she could only wait around for calls for interviews. And she’d already sent an application this morning.
Besides, Enrique would know how hard this job search thing was for someone raised European. It would be nice to talk to someone who actually understood. “Sure, I’ll show you around. There are a couple places worth seeing in human, we can do those first. Let’s go grab your bag from inside so no one thinks you’re planning to stay here, and we can explore Seattle.” She extended her hand to tug him along back to the house.
7
Death chuckled, and Silver frowned at down at him for a beat before she realized he was reacting to Felicia departing very much in the roamer’s company. She’d have thought that was a foregone conclusion, not worthy of his scorn. She raised her eyebrows at him. “Don’t you have less inevitable things to mock?”
“Tom doesn’t think so.” Death strode to the side of the room where Tom’s wild self sprawled at the tame’s feet. The tame slouched against the wall, waiting in case she should need anything. Death nosed the wild self’s sandy-furred head, and it moved only slightly to the side before flopping its muzzle on its paws again. Silver winced. She promised herself she’d spend some time with him, maybe offer his wild self a good brushing, once she dealt with Portland. But before then, she needed his help.
She crossed to Tom and stooped to give his wild self’s ears a ruffle. That self wasn’t dominant to feel it properly, but it still should soothe him subliminally. “I need you to call Dare so I can talk to him.” Craig and Portland were a problem Silver would have to solve on her own in his absence, but they could at least discuss strategy together.
Tom nodded emphatically, some of the dejection going out of his muscles at the prospect of something helpful to do. It didn’t take long for a frown to creep back in as he held his hand up to his ear, however. “Lady damn it, it’s going straight to—” Tom cut off and his eyes flicked to Silver’s face. She knew the look of someone trying to phrase a concept so she’d understand. She gritted her teeth and tried not to let frustration seep into her scent. It wasn’t Tom’s fault.
“It’s not that he’s not answering. He’s not even in range to … hear me calling. I guess it’s not that surprising, up in Alaska.” Tom held something out to her. “But you can leave him a message. He’ll hear it when he’s next in range.”
Silver hesitated a beat. She couldn’t leave her message with what Tom held without him hearing. “Don’t tell anyone else about this,” she said, closing her hand tightly around his wrist to underscore the order. Tom swallowed and nodded.
“Dare…” Silver tried to picture him here before her, but she hated speaking at a distance in the first place, and speaking to nothing was even worse.
“But you speak to me all the time. Wouldn’t Dare consider that the same?” Death murmured. He padded over and sniffed at what Tom held. “Tell him things are much more exciting around here without him. He should travel more often.”
Silver laughed, and the sound broke her awkward silence. “Death sends his regards. Something’s come up.” Quickly, she outlined the situation with Portland and her beta and then nodded to Tom.
Tom straightened and took an abortive step after her as Silver turned away. She paused. He smelled like he was bursting with an opinion. She suppressed the beginnings of a smile. She might as well make sure he didn’t strain himself. “Yes?”
“Craig is fucking prey-stupid! I don’t think Portland—or Sacramento, or any other female sub-alpha in the future—should have to step down just because she’s pregnant.”
Tom practically vibrated with his earnestness. She’d needed that reminder badly, Silver realized. Plenty of Were would agree with Craig, but plenty of others wouldn’t. She went on tiptoe and cupped the side of Tom’s neck to kiss the opposite corner of his jaw. “But don’t go telling him that. I need to handle this myself, puppy.”
Silver settled back and examined matters with her new, calmer perspective. She didn’t know when she’d hear back from Dare, so perhaps it was best to continue as if he would not receive her message in time. A long delay strengthened Craig’s position. She already knew her decision about his petition. She could invite him and Portland to dinner tonight to announce it. Eating would keep everyone calmer and let her ease into it.
“You’re released for the evening,” she told Tom and gave him a playful shove on his chest. “Find Susan for me, would you?”
“Yes, Roanoke!” Tom bounded off.
Silver slipped farther into the den and paced as she waited for her beta’s mate—or perhaps her beta, now John was away with Dare—to arrive. She could feed herself well enough with any of the food stored here, but preparing it for guests was different. She frowned, chasing after even a flicker of the knowledge she needed. Death sat and mocked her movement with his utter stillness. “Stare at the food a little harder. I’m sure it will grow so scared as to form itself into a meal on its own,” he said.
“Silver? What’s wrong?” Susan’s entrance made Silver jump, focused as she was on proving Death wrong. He was right, though. Much as she wanted
to control every aspect of the meal herself, much as Susan didn’t deserve to be ordered around like a low-ranked Were, she couldn’t see clearly enough to do it.
“I’m going to invite Portland and her beta for dinner. I…” Silver hesitated and the shorter woman came to rub a hand along her back. She leaned her whole body against Silver’s back a beat later, cheek against her hair. The gesture wasn’t entirely natural, and a little too low ranked for her place as beta, but it was much closer to correct for their status than the hugs human women usually offered each other in the same situation. Susan was good at noting and learning those differences.
“If the human can tell I’m tense—” Silver exhaled in a laugh.
“You’re allowed, you know.” Susan stepped back and Silver turned to face her. Susan presented a picture of stability, much as her husband did. Silver wouldn’t have expected it from someone so young, human or not, but over the years, Susan had settled into an enviable confidence in her value as a fresh perspective on Were problems. “I’m happy to organize everyone to get it cooked if you’ll guide me through the etiquette. I’m guessing this isn’t a casual cookout for friends.”
“No.” Silver let her shoulders drop with relief. Since Susan had offered first, she wouldn’t have to figure out how to ask her. “You already know I get served first. The most important thing is not to serve Craig anything. Give him an empty—” The word escaped Silver for a moment, but she was used to that. She focused on the important part of the sentence, and it popped out on its own. “Plate, and serve Portland more than she can eat. She can choose what he eats and how much.”
Susan’s eyebrows rose. “What’d he do to fuck up that bad?”
Silver shook her head. “It’s not a matter of punishment. That’s the most formal of pack eating etiquette. No one bothers with it usually, but it’s there when you want to remind someone of his role.”
She drew a deep breath. “And I want to remind him of it because he wants Dare and me to force Portland to give up her sub-alphaship because the stress might make her lose her child.” In the silence after saying it, Silver examined the statement, but she’d captured the important part. It struck her as darkly funny that so much trouble could be summed up so quickly.
“Oh! She’s—” Susan touched her own stomach, but she continued without waiting for Silver’s nod, tone sharpening. “Seriously, though? That’s bullshit. John said you guys can miscarry if you shift after the early part of the pregnancy, and I assume what counts as ‘early’ varies from woman to woman. But if Portland knows she’s pregnant, where’s the problem? She can just avoid shifting.”
“In theory.” Silver held her good arm across her chest, as close as she could get to crossing her arms. “If he does decide to start howling up support, he’s got a stronger argument to call on. I understand pregnancy makes human women emotional.” Silver smiled in answer to Susan’s sharp bark of laughter. She could see the memory of Susan’s own experience in her expression. She squashed her own wish that she could speak from experience too before it could become more than a whisper in the back of her mind.
“It’s the same for Were. In the full, when you’re emotional, a shift can get so close—for most women, it’s just a part of life, but a few can trap themselves in circles.” Silver illustrated with a fingertip. “She worries about shifting by mistake, and that worry brings the shift closer, and then she worries more…” Silver drew a deep breath, unconsciously waiting for Death to mock her, but he remained silent, leaving her to catch and hold a ghost of a bloody memory in peace. “When I was young, still with my birth pack, one woman lost her baby very late that way. It was … ugly.”
“Jesus,” Susan hissed. Her eyes flicked to Silver’s and she pressed a thumb to her forehead, the Were gesture of respect to the Lady. Silver smiled thinly and echoed it, flattered that the woman would offer it to her. Susan had her own God, so the gesture clearly wasn’t on her own behalf.
“But Portland won an alphaship—and held it. She’s in no such danger. And you can’t live your life based on that kind of fear anyway. It’s in the Lady’s hands.” Without looking, Silver flexed her hand at her side in sheer frustration and felt fur under her fingertips. She didn’t look at Death, just buried her hand deep in his ruff.
“Craig has threatened to pull the other packs into it.” Silver growled low. “You were here when we first united the packs, you know how some of them are itching for an excuse to declare independence again. They’ll see this as a Lady-sent opportunity.”
Susan tapped her fingers against her hip, a thinking gesture. “What, because you plan to make a decision to preserve a sub-alpha’s power, rather than decreasing it? Dumbasses.” She shook her head before Silver could correct her. “No, I know. With those kind of power games, it doesn’t matter what decision you make, just that they can get others to agree you were wrong.”
“And people will have plenty of emotion about this issue to blind them.” Silver looked up into the sky, where the Lady might be, were they not in the den, were the sun not glaring away Her light. “But I am not—we are not—going to lose the packs over this. If I have to set my teeth in each of the sub-alphas’ throats personally.”
“Amen,” Susan agreed intensely, then ducked her head in vague apology for the human expression. Silver waved it away. She understood the sentiment.
After a beat of thoughtful silence, Susan’s head came up. “Is Craig the father?” She snorted in amusement at Silver’s surprised nod. “It just makes sense. He’s worried about his child, but as the father he feels like he can’t control any of that, so he’s clamping down in the only way he sees to keep the baby safe. He’s wrong, of course, but I can see why he’s doing it.”
Silver nodded slowly. She could see that now too. But understanding Craig’s motives was useful only if the insight allowed her to change them. “My cousin didn’t try that with you, did he?”
“John? Nah.” Susan laughed and ran her fingers through her hair. “But I could feel him wrestling the whole time with the urge to wrap me in blankets and carry me around everywhere. Knowing about the shifting thing actually explains a lot in retrospect.”
Silver seized Susan’s hand as an idea took hold of her mind just as tightly. “You should talk to them. Neither of them has had a child before. You can help reassure Craig with your experiences.”
Susan set her other hand on top of Silver’s. “But I’m human. I don’t shift.”
“Humans are fragile. They can lose a child for any number of reasons, can’t they?” When Susan opened her mouth to be more precise, Silver squeezed her hand. “Fragile compared to a Were woman, I mean. It doesn’t matter what the actual danger is. You can assure him that the emotions are manageable.”
Susan laughed, lopsided smile growing. “Manageable, yes. Fun, no. I’ll certainly do what I can to reassure him. Anyway”—she squeezed Silver’s hand back, then disengaged hers—“for now, we have a meal to organize.”
Silver nodded and tried to tease apart her unconscious assumptions for anything else Susan might need to know. “Make something without much meat in it. We want to remind everyone that we’re thinking, speaking people, not instinctive fighters feasting on a fresh kill.”
Susan huffed another laugh. “And let’s hope it works.”
* * *
Felicia pressed the parking sticker to her window before slamming the car door and waiting for Enrique to swing on his backpack. She didn’t know why he couldn’t leave it in the car, but when he was ready she grabbed his hand to tug him toward the entrance to the Ballard Locks. High, decorative fences framed both sides of the gate, foliage pressed so thickly against them it was hard to see inside.
Already, the smell of salt water surrounded them, probably noticeable even to humans. Sometimes it was thick and heavy enough to worm annoyingly into her nose, but today the wind was fresh and carried the promise of the distant open ocean.
“I’d take you to the real coast—last time Father and Silver
visited Portland, they took me along to Cannon Beach, and the Northwest coast is very different from the American beaches they usually show on TV—but we’d have to drive all the way out on the Olympic Peninsula. Puget Sound isn’t bad.” Felicia realized she was babbling and cut herself off. It didn’t matter if Enrique liked this particular place or not. He wanted to see the sights, and she was showing them to him. And her impulse to prove how much better North America was than Madrid was stupid. She didn’t have to justify her decision to stay to anyone.
Enrique took a measured look both ways along the train tracks bisecting the Locks’ parking lot and then stepped down between the rails. “Smells salty to me.”
Felicia balanced a foot on each rail in turn and then jumped to the concrete curb on the other side. “Well, Puget Sound is ocean, it’s just protected by the peninsula—” Felicia tried to draw a map in the air and gave up after a moment. Inside the park, she hurried him through the boring landscaped neatness of the gardens to the locks themselves. Walkways lined the tops of the system of concrete and wood walls and gates, pedestrian as well as boat access changeable as gates opened or shut. Algae lined the inner surfaces in green and brown.
No boats were coming through at the moment, but once they crossed a couple gates, they reached the spillway on the other side. Even on such a small one, the water cascaded out beneath concrete arches with impressive white fury. Felicia pointed everything out, shouting over the roar of the water. Enrique listened patiently without saying much.
He finally perked up when the spillway ended and they turned down concrete stairs to a tiny enclosed fish ladder. The water was murky, but the dark shadows of several salmon shimmered occasionally. Enrique went down to stand with his nose practically touching the window. “Kind of scrawny.” Fish dismissed, he glanced at a father and his two children. The girl bounced at the window while the boy slept in a stroller. Felicia supposed that Enrique had chosen English to avoid catching their attention. Not that a little Spanish would stand out around here, but she understood the impulse. You had to hide so many Were things, the instinct was ingrained.
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