by Kat Bellamy
“Guess one of the Moreaus was a sensitive soul.”
“Probably Antoine,” said Ronnie.
Colt tried to remember the names of the Moreaus he’d met briefly. He had an easier time remembering the way they’d tasted. “Who’s that?”
“He was younger. We were friends a long time ago,” he sighed, tapping absently at a few of the higher keys. The dissonant notes made Colt’s ears hurt.
“Oh,” Colt said stiffly. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. He wasn’t one of the ones you killed,” Ronnie said in a strangely casual tone. “He died a long time ago.”
“Can I ask how?”
“They said it was an accident, but it was while he was away at some fancy private school, so there’s no way of knowing.”
“But you don’t think that’s true,” said Colt. “Why would they have covered it up?”
“Because Antoine was good,” Ronnie said with a shrug. “He was nice and he didn’t see things the way his family did, which made him an embarrassment. They tried to turn him into an Alpha, but he wasn’t a variant.”
“How old was he?”
“Not that much older than me, but if you do have it in you to become a variant, you can shift before you reach maturity if you feed on other ghouls often enough. That’s how they figure out who’s worth grooming for ‘greatness.’ Antoine wasn’t, so I’m sure that’s why he’s gone. The Moreaus that were left are the ones who made the cut. The others were expendable.”
“That’s…disgusting.”
“That’s how things are here. Up is down, evil is good and if you’re not what they want you to be, there’s no room for you to be here at all.”
“I’m sorry,” Colt murmured.
“Don’t be sorry. Sorry doesn’t do anything,” Ronnie said in a tone Colt hadn’t heard in his voice in months. “I know you didn’t want this, but you actually have a chance to do something to make things better. If you’re the person I think you are, you’ll take it.”
Colt didn’t know what to say. He’d never heard Ronnie speak so passionately about something. Half the time, the kid seemed apathetic about whether he lived or died. “I’ll do whatever I can,” Colt promised.
That seemed to satisfy him and he went back to staring off into space. Colt couldn’t help but wonder if he was seeing the ghost of his friend. He sat down on the bench and started playing. It had been years, but he could still get most of the way through the cheesy beginner songs without missing a note.
“You play piano?” Ronnie asked, looking over at him like he had three heads all of a sudden.
“My mom made me take lessons when I was a kid,” Colt admitted. “I hated it, of course, but she said I needed something to do in the summer besides playing video games.”
“Sounds familiar.”
Colt winced as he hit the wrong chord on the last bar. “Well, I tried.”
Ronnie smirked at him. “Let’s hope you’re a better Alpha than you are a piano player.”
“Yeah. Let’s hope.”
For the first time since he’d become part of the Kinship, he wanted to try.
Chapter 38
Colt had been working on Roland’s “homework” all week, and true to the older ghoul’s promise, it finally paid off. Ronnie and Susan had been far less enthused by his “werewolf hand” trick than he’d hoped.
“That’s nice, dear,” Susan had said in her diplomatic way. “But maybe not at the dinner table?”
“It looks like you’re the living embodiment of everything my Sunday school teacher said would happen if we jerked off,” had been Ronnie’s response.
It was the kind of thing that made Colt wish he could tell Jason the truth. He’d have thought it was a neat trick…maybe. Once the initial horror wore off.
At least he now had a guaranteed way of keeping Evelyn off his case. She’d run screaming in disgust when he’d used it to keep her from nagging him about yet another document her Council cronies wanted him to sign. He’d gone from picking his battles to fighting her every chance he got, even if it was only to keep her from taking more control. He knew actually changing the ways of the ghouls in his city was going to take more than obstinance, but it was a start.
Another of his most recent acts of defiance was to refuse to quite his day job, but he was second-guessing that decision now that he actually gave a shit about his night job. Being the Providence Alpha was becoming a full-time job, and that was without all the time he spent monitoring Jason’s habits. He decided to head over to the police station to talk to Roland about putting a tail on his ex-boyfriend to make life somewhat easier.
Granted, Jason was in far less danger than the average human. Colt had warned Evelyn that it was in her best interests to ensure that his friends and family were well-protected if she wanted her “puppet” to keep performing for the Assembly. She was desperate enough for the transition to go well that she obliged.
By the time Colt reached the station, Roland was already stalking out of his office. The look on his face made Colt second-guess his decision to show off. “Whatever it is, I don’t have time.”
“Where are you going?” Colt demanded, running along beside him.
Roland looked over at him, pissed. “My team spotted Grayson a few miles out of the city. If he’s going to do anything, it’ll be tonight.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Andrew Wilbur is hosting a swanky fundraiser for his upcoming election, and every top-level human in the state is going to be in one room,” said Roland, opening the door to his car.
“I’m going with you.”
“The hell you are.”
Colt narrowed his eyes. At one point, the idea of crossing the Sheriff would have been unthinkable, but there was too much at stake and he was tired of sitting on the sidelines. “I’m sorry for being unclear. That wasn’t a suggestion or a request, it was an order. As your Alpha.”
“Is that so?” Roland stood to his full height and gave Colt a look that might easily have withered a grown tree.
“Yeah,” Colt said without blinking. He did, however, focus the prickling warmth of the shift his irritation spurred into his eyes, letting them turn blood red. “It is.”
Roland didn’t react visibly, but he finally relaxed his stance and leaned against the car door. “It’s at the Wyvern Club on the green in Cranston. I suggest you wear a suit,” he said before getting into his car and driving off.
Colt let out the breath he’d been holding ever since he decided to challenge Roland. That had gone far better than he’d expected, if only because he was still alive. He went home and changed quickly into his suit before heading to the rural country club. It was every bit as gauche as he’d expected, but there was no sign of Andrew anywhere. Colt found himself searching in greater earnest for Jason, but the man he loved was nowhere to be found, either.
He reminded himself that it was for the best. If Grayson really was back in town, that room was the absolute last place Colt wanted Jason to be.
Chapter 39
Colt threw open the dressing room door to find Andrew standing in front of the mirror, straightening his tie with one hand and holding the lines of his speech in the other. The moment Andrew caught sight of Colt in the mirror, he spun around and pulled the gun at his hip.
Colt couldn’t help but be impressed at the man’s speed. “Not bad. But doesn’t the DA conceal carrying kind of put the city in a bad light?”
“From time to time, it proves to be worth the hassle,” Andrew shot back, cocking the gun. “Seems you aren’t quite as prepared.”
“I don’t have a gun,” Colt said, opening his jacket for Andrew’s inspection. “But go ahead, ruin your career by shooting an unarmed man. I’m sure the press will eat up all the potential headlines a trigger-happy DA presents.”
Andrew’s stance relaxed slightly, but he didn’t lower the gun. “How did you get back here?”
“Your security’s shit. Which, incidentally, is wh
y I’m here.”
“And here I assumed you were here because you’re stalking your ex-boyfriend. Silly me.”
“They’re not mutually exclusive goals,” Colt muttered. “I came to warn you that you’re in danger. There is someone here tonight who wants you dead, but it’s not me. Personally, I’m ambivalent on the subject.”
Andrew snorted. He finally put his gun back in his holster but Colt noted that he kept a hand on it and didn’t bother snapping the thumb strap back in place. “Thanks for your concern, but I think I’ll be alright.”
“And I’m telling you, you won’t.”
Andrew reached for the bottle of Kentucky bourbon on his lighted table and poured himself out another drink. “Normally, I’d be more than happy to indulge your paranoid ramblings down at the station, but I’ve got a room full of donors waiting for me to give a half-baked speech since Jason’s been too busy to write them for me lately. If you’ll excuse me —“
“Just listen and I’ll make it worth your time.”
Andrew stopped in the doorway. He turned around, dropping his glass on the table. “You’d better.”
“I know who killed your boss. That worth it to you?”
The DA’s eyes narrowed. “If you’re lying —“
“I’m not, and Jason can prove it, but first, we have to catch the prick. And I have reason to believe that he’s going to try to kill you tonight if you go out on that stage.”
Colt knew better than to put too much hope in the fact that the man seemed to be listening. Listening was only half the battle. Getting Andrew to believe there was a threat was the bigger challenge.
“You have my attention, Mr. Jager. I suggest you keep it.”
“You think you know what’s going on in this city, but you don’t,” Colt said firmly. “Your boss got closer than anyone, but even he couldn’t have any real idea. This is bigger than the mafia and it’s more fucked up than you could ever imagine.”
Andrew glanced at his watch. “Alas, you’re losing me.”
“I always was better at the show part,” Colt said with a sigh. He stared straight at Andrew and focused on directing the hot feeling that always prickled at his skin before a shift into his eyes only. He couldn’t feel the change, but he knew from the look in Andrew’s eyes that his own had turned to crimson.
The DA’s hand twitched over his gun. “What the fuck? What is this, some kind of bullshit magic trick?”
“You can call it magic if you want, but it ain’t no trick,” Colt scoffed. He’d hoped to go with the minimalist approach, but it looked like Andrew was going to need a little more convincing. He focused on shifting his hand and felt his claws lengthen gradually. The black spread out through his veins, making the skin on his hand and forearm look like marbled stone before the fur began to come in.
Andrew’s face was ashen. He took a step back and hit the wall, finally tearing his eyes off Colt’s hand to look him in the eyes. “This…this isn’t possible.”
Colt’s mouth twisted into a smirk. He knew it made him an asshole, but seeing Andrew so flustered was more than satisfying. “That’s a matter of opinion,” he said, taking a step forward. “We need to —“
The DA pulled his gun and fired a round into Colt’s chest before he could take his next step. Colt frowned and stared down at the hole the new shirt Susan had helped him pick out for the occasion. “Son of a bitch,” he growled, digging into the wound with his claws to pull the bullet out. He knew from experience that if he left it in, it would hurt even worse while his skin healed around it to force it out. He dropped the bullet and scowled at Andrew, who looked about two seconds away from pissing himself. “I’m trying to save your life, asshole.”
“You’re a monster,” Andrew breathed in disbelief, his eyes fixed on Colt, unblinking.
Colt let his hand and eyes go back to normal. Even with all the control Roland had taught him, he didn’t trust himself to be more ghoulish around Andrew than absolutely necessary. The man worked his last nerve like a full-time job.
“Yeah, well, we can’t all be a walking Ken doll.”
“What are you?” Andrew demanded. The shock seemed to be wearing off already, and he was back to the dogged investigative spirit that made him such a pain in the ass to begin with. “A wolf, or —“
“If you say vampire, I’m gonna knock your teeth out.”
“Okay, so give me a better term,” Andrew snapped.
“I’m a ghoul.”
“A ghoul?” Andrew seemed to be mulling over the word. In fact, he seemed to be having a harder time processing the fact that ghouls existed than seeing one transform right in front of him. “Those are real?”
“Apparently. Who knew, right?”
“Does Jason know?”
“No, and if you give a shit about him, it’s gonna stay that way,” Colt said, growing somber. “Humans who get too close to this shit end up dead.”
“So you are a killer.”
“Never said I wasn’t. But I don’t hurt innocent people. After all this shakes out, if you decide you still wanna lock me up with Stan, that’s up to you,” he said with a shrug.
Andrew looked him over, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether to believe Colt’s words. “Why are you telling me any of this? Why show me what you are?”
“Because I’m hoping that underneath all the hair gel and ego, there’s still something left of the idealistic kid that turned down a fast-track offer to full partnership at the most prestigious firm in the country to pursue a career in civil service. I’m hoping you’ll help me.”
Andrew was looking at him like he was as insane as everyone would assume Andrew was if he told them what he’d seen. “So you did your research.”
“Had to do a little recon on the guy my boyfriend would be spending all those late nights with,” Colt admitted. “It paid off, even if the boyfriend part didn’t work out.”
“How exactly is it you think I can help you?”
“The man who killed Carver is named Miles Brown. You narrowed it down to the right family, but you go the wrong guy.”
“And the little pharmacy Dr. Brown was running?” Andrew challenged. “The missing bodies?”
“Ghouls eat flesh,” Colt said with a shrug. “Stan is one of the reasons—the main reason—most of us don’t have to kill humans to survive. The pills help chill out the more aggressive ones.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Andrew muttered.
“Other than digging up a grave and chowing down in front of you, I don’t really know how to prove that part, and we don’t have that kind of time.”
“Say I did believe you and Dr. Brown is…”
“Innocent?” Colt offered.
“Illegal prescribing and the desecration of a corpse are still felonies,” Andrew snapped. “But, for the sake of argument, say he isn’t a murderer. You really expect me to believe this city is populated with magical creatures?”
“Like I said, magic’s probably not the right word,” Colt snorted. “But yeah, it is. We’re everywhere. Your dry cleaner, your doctor. Ghouls have a special affinity for corner offices and cushy chairs, so there’s more than a few of us up top, too. You haven’t noticed us because we have to blend in.”
“Why?” he demanded. “If you’re immortal, why do you give a shit whether people know you’re there or not?”
“The long answer is that most of us want the same things out of life humans do. Family, career, normalcy, or at least our version of it. The most effective predator is the one you don’t notice.”
“And the short answer?”
“The Assembly. Think of it like the UN for ghouls, only instead of ending world hunger and getting all the countries to play nice with each other, their focus—their only focus—is to prevent exposure. If one ghoul slips up on a small scale, they take care of it. If it happens on a large scale, they also take care of it.”
Andrew listened intently. Colt couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he was sure thinking
it hard, whatever it was. “If exposure comes with such grave consequences, why tell me of all people when you haven’t even told Jason?”
“Like I said, I need your help. Miles isn’t alone. I…fucked up,” he admitted. “Ghouls have rules. We have our own government, and I started the equivalent of a military coup, only I left one member of the old regime alive and he’s working with Miles.”
“Could have told you that was a mistake,” Alexander snorted.
“Yeah, I got it now. But we have reason to believe Miles and Grayson are planning to expose us and they’re gonna use your death to do it.”
“Grayson?” Andrew frowned. “Tell me you don’t mean Grayson Moreau.”
“That’d be the other prick, yeah. You know him?”
“Everyone does. He was one of the biggest donors to Carver’s campaign. And his opponent’s,” he added, rolling his eyes. “The Moreaus have their fingers dipped in every well in this city.”
“Had,” Colt corrected. “And if you don’t help me finish what I started and wipe out the whole line of ‘em, every person in that room out there is gonna die.”
“Surely two of you can’t do that much damage.”
“Not Grayson and Miles. The Assembly. They’ll want a stage, and you’re about to give it to them.”
A look of panic passed over Andrew’s face for the first time since Colt had started speaking. He hoped he was finally getting through. “They’re not going to try to kill me.”
Colt groaned. He’d always considered himself a skeptic, but it was becoming his biggest pet peeve. “I just transformed into a fucking monster in front of you and you still don’t —“
“You don’t understand,” Andrew interrupted. “There are two-hundred people here tonight. That’s nothing compared to the crowd that’ll be gathered downtown.”
“Downtown? Why?”