The roof looked different in the daylight. The view was less magical. Though downtown still rose, gleaming, not too far away, Nathan’s neighborhood was in transition. New construction went on at every corner, and yet squat and ugly warehouses were still scattered throughout. Kiara walked to the opposite side of the roof and leaned her forearms against the ledge. Night hid the truth behind all the glowing lights—the sheer press of people that necessitated so many high-rises packed so close together. In the daylight it wasn’t romantic; it was claustrophobic.
Kiara sighed. She could appreciate what other people—Jamie, Cole—saw in the city. It was a constant hub of activity, a place for art and leisure and with easy access to both coast and mountain. If the people weren’t exactly friendly, they weren’t deliberately rude either, and given the size of the place it wasn’t too hard to find a niche.
Then again, it had never been places that drew Kiara, but people. Even before Kiara and Cole had hurried out the year before to answer Jamie’s call for help, Cole had been talking about joining Jamie on the West Coast. The rescue-mission-cum-hasty-visit had cemented his decision, and if both Jamie and Cole were in Vancouver, Kiara could hardly stay behind.
Kiara stubbed the cigarette out on the ledge. There was no use analyzing herself, or the city, to death. She didn’t have Ryn’s urge to question everything, to ask why, and who, and how.
Though perhaps, she thought in a ludicrous moment of amusement, if she had they might know somewhat more about why the Huntsmen were after them, who they were, and how they’d been found out.
Kiara zipped Cole’s coat closed against the chill of the wind that had picked up and pulled a second cigarette from the package. She’d take as much quiet time up here as she could.
And, as though the universe felt compelled to let her know that she’d never have an uninterrupted moment of solitude again, Kiara’s phone rang.
Cigarette tucked between her fingers, she fumbled the phone out of her bag and swiped to answer the unfamiliar number requesting a video call.
A man’s face filled the screen: mid-fifties, white, with graying hair and a pair of pale blue eyes. Kiara raised the phone so that he could see her, and he blinked. Unimpressed, she stared at him and waited for him to speak.
He cleared his throat. “Hello there, miss. I’m sorry, I think I might have the wrong number. Is this…” He looked down and rattled off Kiara’s phone number.
“Yes.”
“Ah.” He frowned. “Michael Lyons gave me this number. I’m looking to speak to his heir.” He glanced down again, and shuffled through paper. “My file tells me that Lyons’ eldest child, his son, is Cole Lyons.”
“That’s correct.”
His gaze shifted past Kiara as though looking for someone behind her. “Would you be a dear and pass him the phone? I really must speak to him.”
“No.”
His eyes sharpened and turned back to her. “Excuse me?”
“No,” Kiara repeated, allowing herself a moment of satisfaction as the man—who was presumably the GNAAW rep—clenched his jaw.
“I’m calling on an important matter, young lady, and this isn’t time to play games. I need to speak to Lyons’ heir, and if you don’t—”
“You are.”
The man forced a chuckle. “Indeed. Well, if you would connect me with Cole Lyons directly—”
“Does your file give you the name of Michael Lyons’ heir?”
“No.” The rep’s replies were getting shorter, his voice snappish. “But as his eldest, and in fact only, male child—”
“Last I checked, inheriting an Alpha’s rank had little to do with sex assigned at birth, or birth order, for that matter, and everything to do with power. So if you’d like to speak to my brother, you’re welcome to. But if you’d like to speak to Michael Lyons’ heir, you are. And I’d suggest you avoid any further ‘young lady’s,’ or ‘dears.’”
“I—well—” the man sputtered. It only took him a moment to regain himself, but when he did his blue eyes were cooler. “You’re Kiara Lyons then, Michael’s second-born.”
“And his only female child.” Apparently that mattered in this conversation.
“My apologies.” Kiara didn’t miss the way his apologies neglected to include the words “I’m sorry.” The man’s voice smoothed out, and he stretched his lips in a smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “I’m Ethan Davis.”
Kiara waited.
Irritation flickered over Davis’ face. “You and two other members of your pack were involved in an altercation with the Huntsmen two days ago.”
“If you could call being stalked, threatened, and having a gun pulled on one of our members an ‘altercation,’ then yes,” Kiara answered coolly.
His lips thinned at the interruption. “We received reports that one of the Huntsmen was rather severely injured. As you are no doubt aware,” he continued, condescension creeping into his voice, “it is simply inexcusable for a human to come to harm at the hands of a wolf.”
He waited, as though expecting Kiara to respond. She didn’t.
“Our reports further indicate that Taryn Nicole Lee was responsible for this injury. Now, had it been a member of your pack—a wolf therefore under GNAAW protection— we would of course deal with the matter internally, but as Taryn Nicole Lee is a lone wolf, GNAAW is unable to step in. We therefore ask that you cease harboring Taryn Nicole Lee and turn her over to the Huntsmen.”
“Whoever is sending in your reports is not doing a very good job.” Kiara let boredom creep into her voice, and, because she knew it would annoy him, inspected the chipped polish on one of her fingernails. “Taryn Nicole Lee was not responsible for any harm to any human. I’m the one who threw the asshole against the wall, after he pointed the gun at one of our members.” She looked up, expecting surprise, but there was no indication on his face that Kiara’s admission was news to him. Kiara’s eyes narrowed.
“It’s noble of you to protect your… friend.” His lips were pinched; his discomfort was evident. “But my report was very clear that the perpetrator of the violence was, in fact, Taryn Nicole Lee. And there was no mention of any gun.” His eyes hardened. “Twisting the facts in order to protect a wolf like Taryn does both of us a disservice.”
“There’s only one person twisting facts here.” Questions raced through Kiara’s head. Who had reported the confrontation in the alleyway to GNAAW, other than her father? Her father knew Kiara’s version—the truth—and would have told GNAAW exactly that. Was GNAAW in far closer contact with the Huntsmen than Kiara’s pack was aware? Whose purpose did it serve to scapegoat Taryn? And even if it had been Taryn who had attacked the man with the gun, she would have done so only to protect Deanna. Surely protecting a human was equally as important as not harming one.
“Be careful with your accusations. This is a serious matter, and I don’t have time for nonsense. I need you to agree that you will turn over Taryn Nicole Lee to the Huntsmen. I will then arrange a time and place for the handover, and we can consider this matter closed.” Davis clicked a pen and noted something on the paper in front of him.
“No.” Kiara shook her head. “No. No one is handing Taryn over to anyone. Who was responsible for this report? It’s wildly inaccurate and I’m not going to fucking turn over—”
“Watch your language, young lady.”
The anger that had been mounting through their entire conversation finally crested, and with it came a sudden, terrifying calm. “That’s ‘Alpha-designate Lyons,’ Mr. Davis. As Alpha Lyons’ heir I outrank you, and therefore you will speak to me with the respect I am owed or you will not speak to me at all. Is that clear?”
Davis looked up from his paper. His blue eyes simmered with banked rage, and he carefully set the pen down.
“Is that clear?”
“Yes, Alpha-designate Lyons.” Any pretense at goodwill vani
shed.
“Good.” Kiara kept her eyes steady and cool on his as she outlined her position. “I will not surrender Taryn Nicole Lee to the Huntsmen or to GNAAW. I will accept full responsibility for the injury done to the Huntsman, but I will not apologize for it to anyone, as it was an act of self-defense against someone who intended harm to my pack. The Huntsmen therefore can have no legitimate reason for wanting Taryn. I expect you to communicate these things to your superiors and to the Huntsmen, as you are apparently in contact with them. As the Huntsmen have no cause, however, I cannot fathom why they have GNAAW support and I suggest you have a word with whomever is providing you with inaccurate ‘reports.’
“At this point I believe we can both consider the matter closed. Thank you for your call, Mr. Davis.” Without waiting for a response, Kiara ended the call.
Outrage burned low in her gut, and Kiara dropped her phone into her purse before putting it on the ground beside her. She relit her cigarette with steady hands.
Kiara started to pace, trying to figure out the conversation she’d just had. GNAAW and the Huntsmen obviously had a far closer relationship than Kiara, or anyone in her pack, had been aware of. Davis’ report could only have come from the Huntsmen. It made sense, almost. If GNAAW and the Huntsmen were both in the business of keeping werewolves out of the spotlight and hidden from the general human populace, they were bound to have worked together. So cooperation was to be expected, if downplayed.
What didn’t line up, though, what set Kiara’s teeth on edge, was the patently wrong detail that it had been Ryn, not her, who had injured the Huntsman with the gun, that, and the fact that presumably it had been Ryn they had been after. If Kiara and Jamie hadn’t happened to be at Kings of Hearts the same night that Ryn was performing…
Kiara took a long drag from the cigarette, and when she pulled it away she noticed her fingers were trembling. If they hadn’t been there, Ryn would have had no chance. It wasn’t that Kiara didn’t think Ryn could defend herself. Ryn had enough practice with that. After all, she was a loner and a lone wolf and a habitual breaker of norms. But she would have been outnumbered, at least three to one, and there was ample evidence that the Huntsmen hadn’t wanted to simply have a conversation with her.
If that had happened, Ryn could have been dead. She would have been in the same city as Kiara, moving in roughly the same queer circles—in a city the size of Vancouver, there were only so many of them—and Kiara would never had known. Kiara was certain that the Huntsmen would have simply made Ryn disappear. She would never have seen Ryn again, and would have spent the rest of her life wondering what Ryn was doing, imagining her life without Kiara, and never knowing that that life had been cruelly cut short long ago.
Kiara’s pacing was fast enough now that she kicked up the gravel from the roof with every step. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. The cigarette was a long line of ash, and she was suddenly aware of the heat in the tips of her fingers that meant she was about to get burned. She dropped the butt and ground it out with the toe of her boot. She didn’t know how many times she’d paced the length of the roof, but now she stood facing downtown again. The wind picked up, and Kiara raised a hand—fingers still unsteady—to the cold tracks of tears on her cheeks.
“Fuck,” she muttered, rubbing at her eyes to destroy any trace of tears. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Chapter Thirteen |
Ten years ago…
“Hi, Kiara, it’s your mom. I haven’t heard from you in a while—is everything all right? Cole says you’re dating someone; your dad and I would love to hear more about them! Anyway, give me a call back when you can. Hope school’s going okay. Miss you!”
Kiara deleted the voicemail, only feeling a small twinge of guilt. She’d call her mom soon, but she didn’t want to have to explain why she’d had to withdraw from one of her classes to avoid a failing grade.
“Everything okay at home?” Ryn lifted an enquiring eyebrow from where she stirred a pot of sauce on the stove.
“Yeah, it’s fine.” Kiara put her phone on silent and slid it across the table. “My mom just won’t stop bugging me to call her.”
“Didn’t you just call her, like, last week?” Ryn asked.
“Yeah,” Kiara shrugged self-consciously. “We usually talk every couple days, though.”
Ryn gave an exaggerated shudder. “Ugh. Sounds suffocating.”
“It’s not that bad,” Kiara said defensively.
“I can’t imagine having to check in with someone.” Ryn wrinkled her nose. “I mean, I guess if that’s what you’re used to…” Her tone implied incredulity that anyone could get used to such a thing.
Kiara picked at her nail polish. She’d never thought of it as checking in. She had a good relationship with her parents, with her brother. They didn’t call to check in with one another, but to see how each other’s lives were going. Or, at least, that’s what she had always understood…
“You’re right, though,” she told Ryn. “I did just call her. I’ll wait till next week.”
Ryn nodded from the stove, and held up a wooden spoon covered in red sauce. “Come taste this and tell me if I need more salt.”
***
Kiara spilled out into the night with Ryn’s hand tucked securely in hers. The snow had stopped, finally, but the night was cold enough to steal Kiara’s breath away. She tugged her coat tighter now that they were outside the smoky, sweaty club and wished she hadn’t worn a skirt.
“We’re never going to get a cab,” Kiara moaned. “And the buses don’t start again for another,” she checked her phone, “Two hours.”
“Aww, poor pack princess,” Ryn teased. “Did it ever occur to you that there’s another solution? One that doesn’t require us to stand in the cold for two more hours.”
Kiara furrowed her brow. “Do you know someone who can come pick us up?”
Ryn laughed delightedly. “Love, we don’t need a ride. The night is ours—we’re made for this.”
“Ryn,” Kiara said reluctantly. “We’re not supposed to shift when someone might see us.”
“Who’s gonna see?” Ryn threw out her arms. “It’s three in the morning, and it’s colder than my Aunt Nari’s side-eye. No one’s gonna see us.”
“We’re in the middle of downtown.”
“Come on,” Ryn gave Kiara a gentle shove. “Live a little. Haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like? To run through the city and know you own it? That no one can take that away from you?”
Kiara glanced at the street behind them. Now that they’d moved farther from the club, it was deserted in all directions. She’d lost track of how many shots she and Ryn had done in the club, but it was enough that alcohol buzzed through her system and awoke something wild and reckless.
“I’ve done it before,” Ryn coaxed. “It was fine. No one saw me. And I got home in one piece, well before the sun rose and people started venturing out. It’ll take us like, half an hour, max.”
“Our clothes, though, my purse?” Kiara was wavering, and Ryn could tell.
“We’ll stuff them there.” Ryn pointed to a stack of milk cartons at the edge of a nearby alley. “And tomorrow we can come back for them.”
“Well…” Kiara had a midterm tomorrow afternoon and she’d been planning to get up early to study since she’d missed the last few classes. Not too early, though, she thought, giggling, remembering that it was already tomorrow. “All right. As long as no one sees us.”
Ryn grinned and grabbed Kiara so she could kiss her. Ryn tasted like alcohol, and warmth, and the menthol cigarettes Kiara had been smoking. Kiara’s resolve crumbled, replaced with a mounting excitement. She had wondered what it would be like, but neither she nor her cousins had ever gotten up the nerve to disobey their parents and shift in a city.
Ryn let out an excited, drunken whoop and started to shed her clothing.
***
“Where were you last night?” Kiara stood with her arms crossed in front of her chest, blocking Ryn’s path out of the bathroom. “You didn’t come home.”
“Whoa, calm down there, buddy.” Ryn gave a lopsided grin and slid past Kiara. “I was at Kyle’s. We smoked a couple joints, I lost track of time. Whatever.” She rummaged in the fridge and came out with a grimace and a half-full bottle of Gatorade. “There might have been a bottle of vodka in there, too.” She laughed.
“Are you even sober right now?” Kiara demanded.
Ryn gestured at herself. “Do I look sober? I am grade A un-sober, love. You should try it some time.”
“It’s dangerous to get intoxicated around humans. You don’t know what might happen if you lose control.”
“See, that’s your problem.” Ryn crossed the room to jab a finger into the center of Kiara’s chest. “You’ve got control issues coming out your ass. Just let go, love. Just let it go.” She unscrewed the Gatorade and took a drink.
“Not all of us are so comfortable with irresponsibility,” Kiara informed Ryn. “Some of us have enough respect for the others in our life that—”
“Save me the lecture.” Ryn rolled her eyes. “If I want to hear what ‘Alpha Lyons’ has to say, I’ll call up your dad.”
“Fuck off.”
“You fuck off. Shouldn’t you be, like, in school or something anyway?” Ryn didn’t wait for Kiara to answer, just stalked into her room and slammed the door.
***
Kiara fumbled with her keys and missed the lock twice before she managed to unlock the door. She dumped her book bag to the floor and tore at the scarf around her throat. Her fingers trembled, her breath came quick and short as her chest constricted. She couldn’t get enough air. Her limbs were weak; she was dizzy and numb and her heartbeat pounded in her ears.
“Get off, get off.” Her voice was high and hysterical behind her clenched teeth as she continued to yank at the scarf. If she could get the scarf off, she could breathe and she just needed to breathe—
Huntsmen (The Better to Kiss You With Book 2) Page 9