Wolf's Guile

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Wolf's Guile Page 4

by Laura Taylor


  The irony of that little detail was striking. Faeydir was prophesied to wipe out the wolf shifters, and in an attempt to prevent her from doing so, this naïve young woman had set up the exact circumstances needed to do just that.

  Feeling overwhelmed, furious and terrified all at once, Caroline automatically pulled out her phone and dialled Baron’s number. Though the pair of them butted heads at every opportunity, she also knew they worked together like a well oiled machine when things went south, and she felt startlingly alone knowing that Baron was currently not on the premises.

  The phone switched straight through to voicemail, and Caroline cursed as she hung up. Baron had headed off to Italy a week ago and was due to return this evening, but wild weather had delayed the plane’s take off, and he was probably still in the air. Damnit. She tucked the phone back into her pocket and stared out the window into the darkness, her mind chewing over the various options available to her.

  Andre was waiting in the wings, no doubt with half a dozen suggestions as to what they should do next, and Caroline ground her teeth as she waited for him to start telling her which option made the most strategic sense, or which one would put the Den at least risk.

  But long moments passed, and Andre said nothing. Which was just as well. While she knew he respected her in her role as alpha, it was all too easy to suspect that in situations like this, he was silently judging her, his far greater experience in battle no doubt presenting solutions that Caroline would never think of.

  But she had been asked to join the Council not so long ago, Caroline reminded herself. And that would have meant she outranked Andre, even if he’d chosen to remain an assassin. On that basis, she should consider herself more than qualified to figure out how to tackle this latest threat.

  She considered the pros and cons of waiting for Baron to return. If she knew what time his plane was landing, she might consider it, but as it was, she didn’t even know what time they’d taken off. And with the weather currently causing havoc across Britain, there was a possibility he might be diverted to another airport anyway. Which meant he wouldn’t be home until sometime tomorrow.

  Given the circumstances, that was too long to wait. Whoever this traitor in the Watch was, there was no guarantee she’d stopped with Miller. It was entirely possible she’d contacted the Noturatii again, feeding them more information, asking for more favours.

  Or, she thought with a shudder, what if it wasn’t just one person? What if there was a conspiracy that involved the whole pack? If that was the case, then war was all but inevitable, and the Council would have to be called in… but she should at least get a better idea of the situation before contacting them. Otherwise all that would happen was they would ask a thousand different questions, to which Caroline had no answers.

  “We’ll have to go and pay the Watch a visit,” she said finally, turning back to the worried faces around her. “Andre, I want you with me. And Raniesha, and John. Tank can stay here and keep things under control until Baron gets back.”

  “You want to take John?” Heron asked, clearly disagreeing with the plan.

  “If the Watch starts a fight, then John can help us finish it.”

  “But Silas-”

  “Silas gets dragged into every bloody battle we have. He’s getting older, and it’s not fair on him. Besides which, it’s about time we started training up a few of the younger wolves to start dealing with these things. John’s coming.”

  Heron shrugged, not exactly agreeing with her, but not willing to push the issue.

  “We’re going tonight?” Andre asked, and Caroline nodded.

  “The sooner the better.” She pulled out her phone again and dialled Tank. He would likely be asleep by now, or at least in bed, and she knew he wasn’t going to be thrilled about the late night wake up call.

  But to her surprise, Tank answered after the first ring. “What’s up?”

  “Can you come downstairs?” Caroline asked. “We have something of a situation, and I’m going to be offsite for a while. I need to brief you on what’s going on.”

  Tank hesitated before answering. “I’m afraid I can’t right now,” he said awkwardly. “I’m on my way to Penrith.”

  What the hell? “Then turn around and come back. This is a serious security issue.” She had to bite her tongue to keep from swearing at him and telling him that the future of their entire species might have been compromised. But saying such a thing over an unsecured phone line was pure stupidity, so she settled for grinding her teeth instead.

  “I’ve no doubt that it is,” Tank agreed. “But so is the reason I’m going to Penrith. I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to sit this one out.”

  Caroline did swear this time. “Why didn’t you tell me before you left?”

  “I thought you were in bed,” Tank replied blithely. “I should be back within an hour. I honestly didn’t think the sky was going to fall in the hour and a half I was gone.” He sounded apologetic now, but clearly had no intention of returning to the estate before he’d done whatever the hell it was he was doing.

  “What a goddamn fucking mess. Get back here as soon as you can,” she ordered him, knowing it was completely pointless. He was smart enough to have figured that out on his own. “I won’t be here when you get back. I’m going to visit Agatha.”

  Genna stood in front of the open fire at one end of the pub, feeling the warmth gradually seeping into her frozen limbs. Her cloak had gone from wet to damp, and parts of it were now starting to feel almost dry. Her hair was once again resuming its natural waviness as she slowly ceased looking like a drowned rat, and if it weren’t for the hunger gnawing at her insides, she’d be almost comfortable.

  A short distance away, her two rescuers, Dave and Cindy, were sitting on stools and sipping beers. They’d booked a night’s accommodation in the hotel, deciding they may as well stop for the evening once they’d arrived in Penrith, and then they’d insisted on keeping Genna company until her friend arrived. They’d bought her a lemonade and a bag of crisps to snack on while she waited as well, and Genna’s thanks had been heartfelt. It seemed like years since she’d enjoyed such a simple thing as crisps, and with her rampant hunger, the gift had seemed like the most delicious treat in the whole world.

  Dave glanced over at her just then and shot her a reassuring smile. Genna tried for one of her own and knew it came out a little wooden. She turned away from him, pretending she was merely warming her other side, when she was actually trying to hide her ever-increasing anxiety. He and Cindy had every right to expect her to be feeling better with her friend’s imminent arrival, secure in the knowledge that she had a warm bed and a sympathetic ear to go home to. But the cold reality was that she couldn’t help wondering what on earth Tank was going to do when he got here.

  She’d told him on the phone that she was in the company of humans, and she’d seen enough of him back in Scotland to know he had a sharp mind and an eye for detail. He wasn’t going to blow her cover, would never do anything to put the shifters at risk. He’d play the concerned friend and hustle her out of the pub, assuring her two companions that she’d be well taken care of.

  But then what? Would he send her straight back to the Grey Watch? Would he tell her she was twelve kinds of idiot for having left them? Would he tell her she would never be welcome with Il Trosa, so she should stop wasting his time?

  Or would he listen to her story, understand her concerns and take her home to his Den?

  A far more important question was would he pick up on the fact that she was lying to him? Shifters were good at detecting lies, and she’d rehearsed her story on the way here, sticking to the truth as much as possible and merely colouring a few of the details to make them suit her purposes. If he was merely suspicious, she could bluff her way through, but if he flat out didn’t believe her…

  The front door opened just then, and Genna looked over to see Tank step inside. He cast his eyes over the place in a casual-looking sweep – though Genna was sure
he missed absolutely nothing in the process – and she felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of him. He looked calm, relaxed, so completely at ease with himself and with the world that Genna felt a wave of shame and disgust with herself. She was a traitor, a murderer, a liar…

  He saw her then, standing by the fire, and a look of concern settled onto his face, so real that even Genna almost believed it.

  “Gen…” He strode over to her, and she found herself all but lifted off her feet as he hugged her, not a token squeeze, but a full-body ‘thank God you’re safe’ embrace. Don’t fall for the routine, she told herself, even as she revelled in the feel of strong, masculine arms around her. It was only an act put on for the public.

  Finally, he let her go, and she stepped back, willing herself not to blush as Dave came striding over, Cindy in tow. “This is Henry,” she said, introducing them to each other. “Dave and Cindy picked me up and brought me here. Thank you so much for coming.”

  “It’s late,” Tank said, looking down at her with concern. “How about you stay at my place tonight and we’ll work out the rest in the morning?”

  Genna nodded, knowing Tank would be wanting to make a quick exit before her rescuers starting asking any awkward questions. “Thank you for everything,” she said quickly to Dave and Cindy. “I can’t tell you how grateful I am.”

  “Glad we could help,” Dave said, offering Tank his hand. He shook it, then led Genna out of the pub, keeping his arm around her shoulder.

  Outside, they walked a short distance down the road, coming to a small blue sedan. Tank opened the door for her, and Genna got in quickly. Tank got into the driver’s seat and started the engine, turning the heat up high – no doubt he’d seen her shivering and felt the lingering dampness of her cloak – but he made no move to drive anywhere.

  Genna braced herself. The interrogation was about to begin.

  “What the hell is going on?” Tank asked softly. There was no censure in his tone, no accusation or anger, but the question filled Genna with fear nonetheless.

  “It’s complicated,” she said, gearing up for the conversation to come. “I don’t really know where to start. I’ve killed someone,” she blurted out, the fear and angst of her battle with Feriur sweeping over her all over again. “Feriur. Sempre’s second in command. She caught me as I was trying to leave, and she tried to stop me. I didn’t mean to kill her,” she said, her eyes imploring Tank to believe her. “We were fighting, and I just wanted to leave, and then suddenly she’s on the ground with a knife in her throat.” She stopped, her words choked as emotion swamped her.

  “Shit…” The single word from Tank conveyed a world of meaning, and Genna knew she was going to be in big trouble for that part of things. She could plead self-defence, but neither Il Trosa nor the Watch took the death of one of their own lightly. “Why were you trying to leave?” Tank asked, brushing over her first announcement, no doubt sensing there was more to the story.

  “I had to,” Genna said, staring at her hands, gripping the folds of her cloak in her lap. “Living with the pack is terrible. There’s no food, and no shelter, and everyone feels beaten down all the time, and Sempre… Sempre’s betrayed you.” Genna felt her heart speed up, and she forced the rest of the words through her throat before her courage failed. “She sold information about your pack to the Noturatii. I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing…”

  Without Tank saying a word or making a single movement, Genna felt the atmosphere in the car change, and the very air around her seemed to cool. “I’m sorry, she what?” Tank asked, his voice dangerously low.

  “You heard me,” Genna said, unwilling to repeat the lie, lest he realise that something didn’t quite add up.

  “When?”

  “Last spring. March, I think it was.”

  “And when did you find out?”

  “A couple of weeks ago. I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t know what to do. Your pack and mine aren’t exactly on friendly terms.” That much, at least, was true.

  “Fucking hell…” The words were breathed softly into the night, Tank’s face a pale shadow on the other side of the car. “You’re going to have to explain this to Baron and Caroline. That’s big.”

  “I know,” Genna said, staring at her lap again. The weight of her own guilt sat heavily on her. Though, strangely, the weight of her betrayal of Sempre made little impact.

  “Let’s go,” Tank said, putting the car into gear. Then he muttered to himself, “Like we didn’t have enough crazy going on around here.”

  A little over half an hour later, Genna followed Tank up a set of wide, stone steps into Il Trosa’s manor. She’d never been here before, had heard very little about the estate, in fact, and the grand building was something of a surprise. From the way Sempre talked about the place, she’d been expecting something far more modern and decadent, a gleaming mansion of glass and steel, for example, rather than the homey old-world feel of the stone building.

  Inside, the foyer was beautiful, but the worn floorboards and ageing tapestries made it seem welcoming and lived-in. “Caroline’s not here at the moment, and Baron’s getting in late,” Tank explained, as Genna stood and took in her new surroundings. “Are you hungry? There’s plenty of food in the kitchen. And then I’ll show you a room, and in the morning, we’ll have to have a long, hard chat with Baron. I’m going to have to insist you don’t mention this to anyone else until we talk to him. This is far more serious than you might imagine, so just tell people you’re having issues with the Grey Watch and that me and Baron are sorting it out. Anything beyond that is currently none of their business.”

  Genna nodded meekly, feeling like pond scum for having lied to him. “I wouldn’t mind something to eat, actually,” she said, trying to be polite. “Food around camp wasn’t exactly plentiful.”

  Just then, a large, black wolf trotted into the foyer. Genna didn’t recognise him, but that didn’t mean anything in particular. She’d spent only a brief time with the Il Trosa wolves, and most of that had been with them in human form. But he was a beautiful creature, she thought as she tried not to stare. She’d never seen another wolf quite so black as him. Most of them, even the darker coloured ones, were more grey than true black.

  Tank turned to the newcomer with a note of surprise in his voice. “Hey. Didn’t expect anyone to still be up. Everything okay?”

  Any response that might have been forthcoming was cut off as the front door was suddenly thrown open, letting in a blast of cold air. A huge, burly man strode in the entrance before shutting the night out again, and Genna recognised him from their brief meeting in Scotland. Baron. The lord of the manor had returned.

  He pulled up short as he saw Genna standing there, his tiredness instantly giving way to wary suspicion.

  “This is Genna,” Tank said, before Baron could begin the inevitable barrage of questions. “She’s from the Grey Watch. She’s having some problems with the pack.” He glanced at the black wolf, and Genna wondered who he was and why he was hanging around in the corner of the room the way he was. “We’ll need to have a serious talk in the morning, but it’s late, so I figured she could stay in one of the spare bedrooms tonight.”

  Baron sighed, clearly not thrilled by the plan. “Does the Watch know you’re here?” he asked Genna.

  “Not yet,” she replied. “I left after dark. They might know I’m missing by now, or they might not figure it out until morning.” The discovery of Feriur’s body was going to cause no shortage of drama, and she dreaded to think how the pack would react when they found it.

  Baron groaned and reached for his phone, and Genna’s heart sank as she realised he was intending to call them straight away. But then the black wolf yipped and bounced on his feet, a clear call for attention that had both Tank and Baron looking strangely at him. The wolf dashed away down the hall, then came back again – a clear request that Baron follow him, though there was no obvious reason why he couldn’t just shift and state his business.

>   “Bloody hell,” Baron muttered, pocketing his phone again. “Where’s Caroline?”

  “Off the premises,” Tank told him. “She was called away on urgent business-”

  Another yip from the black wolf. He seemed to know something about the issue, though once again, he made no effort to shift and state what he knew.

  “Okay,” Baron said, turning to Genna. “I’m going to go see what this is about.” He gestured vaguely to the wolf waiting in the doorway. “But there are a few ground rules until we work out what we’re going to do with you. If you’re going to shift anywhere other than your bedroom or the foyer, you need to announce it. You’re not to set foot outside this house without an escort until further notice. Consider your rank as that of omega and give way to more senior wolves. And you may not make use of any phone or computer. You can help yourself to breakfast in the kitchen in the morning. Any questions?”

  Genna meekly shook her head. “No, sir.”

  That made Baron smirk. “Sir? Now that’s one I haven’t heard before. No ‘sirs’ or ‘ma’ams’ around here. Call me Baron. Tank, show her to her bedroom, then come and fill me in on whatever the hell is going on here.” He strode from the room without further ado, following the black wolf down the hall.

  “Looks like dinner’s going to have to wait,” Tank said. “Come on. At least you can have a hot shower and a good night’s sleep.”

  The news was disappointing, but Genna steadfastly decided to look on the bright side. She hadn’t had a shower in months, bathing only in the cold water of the stream, and hadn’t slept in a real bed since the day she’d joined the Watch. So there was no way she was going to complain about her opportunities now.

  Baron strode down the hall, wondering what the hell Miller was playing at. Usually, the only reason a person refused to shift was if they were gravely injured and changing forms would put them in mortal danger. Though it was unlikely that any such injury had happened around the estate, he trusted his wolves enough – even this one, for all his reservations about Miller’s past – to go to the effort of deciphering whatever the hell was going on before he started yelling at anyone.

 

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