by Jan Stryvant
Every Saturday morning, like clockwork, she was here buying stuff for her kitchens as well as for several households that she'd agreed to help.
Jace liked Lady Sarah, they all did. She was easy going, friendly, and honestly didn't care what anyone got up to, as long as they did the tasks she asked them to.
Jace watched as she bought several large baskets of produce from one of the booths, detailed one of the wolves to carry it back to their vehicle, then went on to the next booth.
Jace watched and then followed that wolf back to the SUV.
"Here, let me help you with that," Jace said as Pete, the other wolf fumbled with the keys for the back gate.
"Oh, thanks.... JACE! What the hell are you doing here! They told use you were dead! Ohmygoddoesanybodyknow!"
Jace caught the bag before it spilled out all over the ground as his brother Pete babbled.
"Pete," Jace growled, "get it under control!"
Pete blushed and shut up, then opened the gate to the back of the SUV.
"What happened?" Pete said in a much lower voice, looking around now, to make sure that they weren't being watched. "They told us you were dead!"
Jace grinned, "Yup, dead, we're all dead. Gotta tell ya', Pete, I'm really enjoying this afterlife thing. Kinda nice, not having to worry about any mages breaking my butt or sending me out to be killed!"
"Jace," Pete whined, "they told us that you died, they hinted that you had turned on one of them! Oh they didn't say that, they told us you died fighting for the council, but the way they've been keeping an eye on me! It hasn't been easy, Jace! What's going on?"
"Come over here, out of sight for a couple of minutes, and I'll explain it to you," Jace said and as Pete stuffed the bags in the car and closed the back gate, Jace dragged him off.
"Okay, put this on," Jace said and handed his brother Pete one of the collars.
Pete nodded and did so.
"Alright, this is gonna hurt a bit, so keep your mouth shut," Jace said and pressed one of the tags into Pete's hand. "Attach this to the collar, and keep your mouth closed!"
Pete did as his older brother told him, his body stiffening as for a moment he felt a burning sensation deep inside his chest.
After it past, he looked at Jace, panting.
"Okay, take it off and hand it back to me."
Peter pulled the tag off, "What just happened?" He asked as he passed the tag to his brother and then undid the necklace.
"The silver pellet inside you isn't full of silver anymore."
"What!" Pete yelped and then snapped his mouth closed, looking embarrassed.
"How?" Pete asked, a lot quieter.
"Someone figured out a way, I don't know, magic or something. Just don't tell anyone what I did. Silver will still kill you, unless you're wearing one of these," Jace opened his shirt to show his own collar with the tag on it.
"So why can't I keep it?"
"Because I only have a few of them, and if we want to get everyone out, without trouble, this has to be done just right. Now, when you go back, you find Art, and tell him I want to talk to him. Tell him that yes, I'm alive, and I need to talk to him. I'll be down at the Fox and Goose all day and all night."
"But Harris and his friends go there!"
"Exactly, so Art won't have any trouble finding the place. I'll make sure I'm not seen, don't worry about me. Tell him I need to talk to Hogue, Jester, Piper, and Dawn or anyone else he thinks will help."
"Help with what?"
"With getting everyone the hell out of Sacramento and up to Reno where it's safe," Jace told him. "Now go, and don't go getting in any trouble."
Pete nodded and smiling at his brother, he gave him a hug and then turning around he ran off to catch back up with Lady Sarah.
"Think Art'll buy it?" Rufus asked as Jace went over and got into the car Rufus was waiting in.
"Well, if Gray gets his brother to deliver the same message, that'll be two different people, telling him to meet me there. Art's not stupid; he didn't get to be head wolf by being dumb."
"Yeah, but if anyone is going to side with the mages, don't you think it'll be him?"
Jace snorted, "All the more reason for him to come and check it out."
Philo looked around the casino as he walked in with Markey. He'd been to casinos before, but since becoming friends with Markey he hadn't gone to many of them. Philo really didn't like the kind of attention that might be drawn to him, if Markey decided he wanted to have a little fun.
Oh, Philo knew that if he asked Markey not to cause problems, he wouldn't, but what kind of a friend would he be if he did that? He liked Markey because of who Markey was, and honestly, because of what Markey did. It was always fun, and honestly it always seemed to work out for the best for the people who needed it the most.
Besides, they were in the States now, not like any of it would matter after they went back home!
"You know, Markey," Philo said looking around, "I wouldna' thought you could make a casino even more gaudy than the ones we have at home."
Markey grinned at him and shrugged.
Philo laughed, "Guess I was wrong, weren't I?"
Markey nodded and the two of them walked further inside the building. There were those slot machines stuck every place you could stick one, but none of them were the old mechanical type that Philo had once loved, and which occasionally you could still find in some of the Irish casinos.
Then there were the even newer ones that really were nothing more than a television screen with a lever attached. The rules were so confusing that Philo had never bothered with one, though they were certainly interesting to watch with all of the animations and movies that played across the front of them.
Further in there were the usual craps tables and the roulette wheels, then the blackjack tables and all the other strange card games that the casino's had come up with. Philo was surprised to see that they even had a baccarat table!
Smiling he turned to Markey, "I'm going to play for a spot. Try not to cause too much trouble," Philo grinned, "or at least not get caught at it!"
Smiling they both went their separate ways and going over to the tables, Philo found an open seat. Not many played baccarat here apparently, and taking some of the money his sister had given him out of his pocket, he put it on the table, got a few chips, and started to play.
Baccarat really was a fairly simple game, you either bet on the player, the dealer, or for a tie. The rules were simple enough, ace through nine counted for the card's face value, the other cards were all zero. The closest one to nine won and all you did was watch, the dealer did everything.
For such a surprisingly simple game, there were a lot of systems, and while Philo knew them all, he normally used his own. Simply put: he cheated. It was a simple spell, one that relied more on the part of him that was faerie than any real magic. All he did once he'd cast it was to bet his hunches, which were right most of the time, and when he wasn't sure, he always bet for a tie.
By the time Philo cashed out three hours later, he had a nice wad of the local's currency. So it was time to collect Markey and find a nice pub to go and redistribute his easily attained wealth.
It didn't take long to find him; Philo just went in search of where the crowds were thickest. Once he got there, he just looked around until he saw the center of everyone's interest.
This time Markey was standing over by the roulette table, next to a very old man. As Philo watched, the old man's number came up and the croupier handed the old man his winnings. The man took one chip off the top, placed a new bet, then turning around he handed it to one of the people behind them, shook their hand, and wished them a good day.
The man won again, placed a new bet on a different number, and turning around gave the money to another person, who thanked him and quickly hurried off.
"How long has this been going on?" Philo asked one of the people watching.
"I donno, twenty, thirty minutes? The old man just walked up and started owni
ng the place. Crazy guy, he's been passing out those chips like they's candy. Guess with luck like that, ya' don't need money tho', right?"
Philo shrugged and made his way around the crowd to the other side of Markey.
"How many more of these do I have?" Philo heard the old man whisper.
"As many as you want," Markey told him.
Philo was a little surprised that the old man could see and hear Markey. Markey didn't usually show himself to people. Taking a closer look at the old man, Philo could see that he really was quite old, and that he was not very healthy looking at all, though he was dressed in the nicest and newest of clothing. The old man's skin was thin and fragile looking and had an unhealthy yellow tinge to it, his hands shook constantly, and he sounded more like he was gasping than he was breathing.
"Philo, this is Paul Dowd. Paul, this is my friend Philo."
Mr. Dowd looked over at Philo and smiled happily, "Hope you don't mind me borrowing your friend here for a while."
Philo smiled back, "He's your friend too, think nothing of it."
"Well, I know the two of you have other things to be about, so I'll let you both get to it," Mr. Dowd said with a weathered yellow smile.
When the croupier handed Mr. Dowd his winnings, this time the old man turned and handed all of them to a young woman behind him, who smiled, gave him a kiss and after thanking him, hurried off.
"That's it folks," Mr. Dowd gasped, "I have an appointment to keep."
"Philo, be a friend and help Paul to a seat?" Markey asked him.
"Of course!" Markey said and taking Mr. Dowd's arm he helped him over to a rather nice over stuffed chair that was by a nearby wall.
"Thank you, Markey," Mr. Dowd gasped in a soft voice as Philo helped him to sit down and get comfortable. "Maybe we did a little good today, just maybe."
"Oh, I'm sure you did more than a little," Markey told him with a smile.
"Well, the pleasure was all mine, I must thank you again for a wonderful day. Now if the both of you would be so kind as to excuse an old man, I really should go meet my wife, now."
"Oh, of course, good sir," Philo smiled and gave a little bow.
"We will toast your memory tonight, Paul," Markey said giving him a pat on the arm. Markey turned then and walked off with Philo.
"Was he a friend of yours?" Philo asked as they headed for the door.
"I met him once, when he was but a lad. He had run away because he did not wish to move to America with his parents."
"Oh? What did you tell him?"
"I promised him he would be happier if he did."
"Ah," Philo nodded, "was he?"
"He said he was, and asked if he could help me spread a little good fortune before he died." Markey looked at Philo and smiled, "I broke him out of some old boring nursing home and brought him here."
Philo laughed, "I'll daresay they'll be talking about that one for a while."
Markey gave one of those bright smiles then that Philo always loved to see on his friend's face. When Markey was happy, he truly did light up a room.
"So," Philo said as a couple of people that looked to him like the medical type ran by them, "what do you say we find us a nice pub in which to remember your dear departed friend and relieve ourselves of my ill gotten gains?"
"So, what's this your brother tells me about getting everyone out of here and up to Reno where it's safe?"
Jace looked over Art. The old wolf looked as fit as ever, and at the ripe old age of forty-three he was the oldest wolf that Jace had ever known. That was until a few nights ago when he met some of the ones in the West Pack, one of which was positively ancient at the unbelievable age of fifty-five.
Jace motioned to the coin on the end of the table.
"Pick that up."
"It's silver," Art growled.
"But picking it up won't hurt you and I want you to be positive that it's silver."
Art gave him a look, but he picked up the coin, frowned, and then dropped it on the table where it bounced once, and then spun around a few times before laying flat again.
"Jace, I went to a lot of trouble to get Harris to let me come out today. Had to spin him a story about needing some parts from the electrical supply company up the block from here. So what is this all about? And why in the hell would you even come back here if they think you're dead?"
"For the same reason you'd come back, I'm betting," Jace said and tossed Art a collar. "Put that on."
"What is it?"
"A lycan collar."
Art blinked, "Where the hell did you get this? These things are worth a fortune."
"In Reno you can get 'em for a couple of grand now, but that one was a gift. It's yours, go ahead, put it on. I got a bunch of 'em."
"If you're trying to bribe me to get your brother out of there, I have to say you're definitely going about it the right way," Art chuckled and put it on, then shifted into his hybrid form and looking down at himself he swore.
"Damn, just like the stories say!"
"It gets better," Jace smiled.
"How the hell does it get better than this?"
Jace slid one of the tags across the table.
"Grab that and touch it to your collar, it'll self attach and only you can remove it."
"But!" Jace warned Art as he picked it up and looked at it, "It'll hurt the first time you use it."
"Why's that?"
"It turns all the silver in your body into something else."
"Yeah, right."
"That's why I had you pick up that dime, so you'd know it was silver. Now clip the tag on like a good dog and then pick up the dime and you'll see I'm not pissing up your leg."
"Don't be an asshole, Jace," Art said while looking at the tag.
Jace opened up his shirt to show the one he was wearing, and with a growl Art stuck the tag on his.
Jace watched as Art sucked in his breath, and blinked. That was all, not a growl, not a whimper. He just blinked.
"Damn, that hurt."
"Yup, Matt and Stan had triggered our pellets just before we got ours. I thought we were dying for sure. Then suddenly I got this guy bending over me and asking if I'm okay."
"What happened to Matt and Stan?"
"They showed up just after we cleared out. From what we were told afterwards, Matt shot Stan in the back of the head and took the truck and drove off heading north."
Art sighed, "Matt always was a self-centered prick. At least he liked us." Looking down at the dime, Art picked it up.
"Wrap your fingers around it. The effect only exists just above your skin, until it takes in a lot of silver, then it expands."
Art nodded and closed his fingers around the coin, surprised as it suddenly got warm. Opening his hand back up he stared at it.
"Isn't it against the law to mess with currency?" Art said looking up at Jace with a smile.
Jace smiled back, "So, here's the plan. We get all the alphas and your staff collared. Then tonight and tomorrow night, you go around neutralizing everybody's pellets."
"And then what?" Art frowned, "We turn on the mages? Kill them? I may not like a lot of them, hell, most of them, but I'm not going to be part of any mass slaughter, Jace."
Jace growled and shook his head, "I was given very explicit instructions by my new Alpha of just what he would do to me if I killed anybody.
"No, the plan is, once everyone's clear, late Sunday, say a few hours after midnight, everyone just walks past the wards, goes over the wall, and gets on the bus we'll have waiting there, and just drives off. Monday morning comes around, and suddenly they find that you're all gone."
Art nodded, "I like it. What about the servants in the houses?"
"Call in the ones you can for a training session, take care of them, and I'll have Gray and Beck drive around to their houses and they can just sneak out and join up with the rest of us. The ones you can't," Jace shrugged, "we'll get the message to them somehow and sneak in and help them leave."
"So, who's
behind all of this?" Art asked.
"The plan? My alpha up in Reno, his name is Chad."
Art shook his head, "No, the collars, the whole reason you're here. Why would an alpha want to risk his new members to save a bunch of wolves he doesn't know?"
Jace nodded, "He told me that he was ordered to save us, because his boss is pissed at Harris for attacking his home. The rumor's true Art, there's a revolt going on in Reno, but they're not killing anyone if they can help it."
"Rumor says a lion is running it, is that true?"
"That's what Chad tells me, though I haven't met him yet."
Art looked back down at the dime and thought about all that it represented, "I've overheard Harris talking to the other council members a couple of times. They're scared. If there was ever a time for us to leave, this is it."
Jace nodded and standing up he passed Art the bag with the necklaces and tags in it as Art shifted back.
"Oh, by the way, were you really going to kill Stewart?"
Jace sighed, "I've wanted to punish his father for what he did to my brother for so many years, that yeah, I was going to do it. But now? After talking to Chad? This will hurt his father far worse than killing his son ever would."
"Well, I'm glad you didn't kill him, or I would definitely have had to kill you."
"What?" Jace said looking at Art in surprise.
"He's my son, Jace."
"But he looks just like all of Kurt's kids!"
Art smiled, "Yes, I know. Be waiting for us on the east side, one am. I'll have someone drop by here early tomorrow morning with a list of those lycans you'll need to detail Beck and Rufus to pick up."
Jace plopped back down into his seat, stunned, as Art walked out the door whistling a happy tune.
Get Ready
"So what's the story with Cali?" Roxy asked him the next morning as she was showing him all of the defenses that had been put in.