by Mac Flynn
“What about Leonor?” I spoke up. “That girl made it sound like she knew where we’ve been.”
“They won’t touch her, at least not yet. Callean and she may not be on the best of terms, but he’d swing his support to us if something happened to her,” Stacy assured me.
“I wish we had that protection,” I murmured.
“We will if we can convince Callean to help us, but let’s move,” Luke persisted.
21
We got back to the apartment at early afternoon and found Alistair and Baker seated in opposite chairs in their clean clothes and alternating their glances between at the telephone and door. Alistair jumped up when we entered, and even Baker looked pleased to see us because he nearly smiled. “What took you?” he gruffly asked us.
“Worried?” Stacy teased him. Baker scowled and mumbled something about hell freezing over and damned fools, but didn’t argue.
We plopped the boxes and bags onto the coffee table, and I gave my curiosity free rein to see what was in the hat boxes. I opened the first to find a golden mask that covered the nose and eyes with a string to wrap around the back. Another had a purple peacock fan above the eyes, and the others were the same simple kind as the first, but in different colors. I grabbed the green one and tossed it at Baker, gave the silver one to Alistair, and handed off the golden one to Luke. That left the purple peacock and a scarlet red mask for Stacy and me. She chose the red, so I had the beautiful peacock one for myself.
The costumes matched the colors and fashions of the masks. They were the fashion of the Middle Ages with large, puffy sleeves and billowing vests. The pants were baggy and covered most of the slipper-like shoes that went with the set. I lifted up one of the dresses, a billowing piece of heavy cloth, and frowned. “I don’t know whether I’ll feel like a lady or a jester in this thing,” I quipped.
Baker snarled. “I’m not wearing that,” he refused.
“Then you’re not going,” I shot back. His snarl deepened to the depth of the Grand Canyon, but he didn’t argue further.
While I passed out and admired the clothes, Luke brought Baker and Alistair up to speed on our run-in with the Captain of the Alphas. Baker scoffed. “If they’re recruiting that young than we don’t have much to worry about,” he commented.
Luke shook his head. “Her age doesn’t matter. She’s a seasoned fighter.”
“But she can’t be that good if you and Stacy heard her presence. Her beating you must have been a fluke,” Baker pointed out.
“She was cocky and slipped up. I don’t think she’ll do that again,” Luke replied.
“That’s not all she slipped up on,” Stacy chimed in. “She had less love for Cranston than we do.”
“That could be to our advantage later, but until we figure out their relationship it won’t do us much good,” Luke argued.
“So what do we do?” I asked him.
“We stay in here until tomorrow night’s ball. If we’re followed there we might be able to lose them in the large crowds,” he suggested.
I plopped down on the couch and looked out the windows at the sun. It would set in a few hours. “So what do we do between now and then?” I wondered.
A knock on the door had my answer. Stacy strode over and opened it to find Rick standing there with a small envelope in his hand. “This came for you just a few minutes ago, Miss Stacy,” he told her as he handed her the envelope.
“Thanks, Rick. Goodnight,” she returned.
He bowed his head. “Goodnight, miss.”
Stacy closed the door, turned to us and opened the envelope. She poured over the contents and her eyes widened. “They’re going to kill Cal,” she told us.
“Cal?” I repeated.
“Oh, sorry. Callean. Cal’s a pet name Leonor has for him,” Stacy corrected herself.
That brought everyone to their feet. “When and why?” Luke asked her. Nobody needed to know who. It would be Cranston and Lance’s men.
“Tomorrow night at the ball at ten o’clock,” she replied. “A single silver bullet to the head by someone wearing a green armband.”
Baker frowned. “That’s pretty specific. Can we trust your source?” he wondered.
“Absolutely. It’s from one of my most trusted sources,” she assured us.
“And who is that?” Baker persisted.
Stacy scowled at him. “Leonor, his mother,” she replied.
Luke raised an eyebrow. “She’s one of your sources in your Underground?” he asked her.
She shrugged. “She was the one to provide her son with his first connections in the gang world. She may not like the gangs, but she knows knowledge keeps you one step ahead of your enemies,” she explained.
“Fine, it’s trusted, but why are they going to be killing him?” Baker questioned her.
“The message doesn’t say, but that Captain we met might explain it,” Luke spoke up. “She might have overheard us talking about Callean and reported that to Cranston. The last thing the Alphas would want is their greatest enemy joining with their most indifferent ally in a coalition against them.”
I furrowed my brow. “And they think killing Callean will be a good idea? He’s the most powerful guy in the city,” I reminded the group.
“Cranston aspires to be that and probably doesn’t mind getting rid of the competition any way he can,” Luke replied.
“So we do what now?” I asked them.
“Now we see if these costumes fit and hope we can find Callean at the ball before the assassin does,” Luke suggested.
“Master Luke, if I may interrupt, how are we to attend this ball without invitations?” Alistair wondered.
“I can handle that,” Stacy spoke up with a smile. “The notice I saw of the ball was to both my father and me, and it was an invitation for us to go with as many friends as we’d like.” Baker frowned, but Stacy laughed. “Stop worrying. I’m sure we’ll make it through this somehow.”
It was a long twenty-four hours waiting for the ball to come. With some minor modifications, and some tussling about with Baker, the suits fit us all pretty well. The next afternoon found us in our strange clothes and tromping down the stairs of the apartment building. Rick sat in his customary chair with a paper in front of him, and Luke steered over to the desk. “Could you do me a favor?” he asked Rick.
The old man glanced up from his paper and raised an eyebrow. “Depends on what it is,” was his uncertain reply.
“I might have a letter at the station. Do you think you could pick it up for me?” Luke requested.
Rick shrugged. “Sure thing. What’s the name?” he asked him.
“Smithton,” he replied.
I snorted. “Smithton? How’d you think of that?”
He turned to me with a smile. “Your old name and your new name,” he told me.
“If it’s there Ah’ll pick it up,” Rick assured him.
“Thanks.” Luke turned away and we resumed our bright parade out of the building and onto the streets. We received our fair share of funny looks, but the locals treated us as insane and kept their distance.
“What’s this about a letter?” Stacy asked him.
“It’s about that letter we sent to Brier. I’m hoping he’s sent back a reply,” Luke explained to her.
Stacy sighed. “I hope he has better news than we do, but speaking of chores we all have one unpleasant task to do before we leave.”
I frowned and glanced around at the clothed group. Everyone’s face showed a slightly pale tinge to it. “What? What do we have to do?” I asked them.
Stacy pulled a sock from inside the bosom of her dress. It had faint brown stains on the white surface and a terrible odor of sweat and dirt drifted off its cloth. “We have to sniff this,” she told me.
My mouth dropped open. “Um, why?”
“Because Cal is very good at keeping his picture out of everything, so we have to track him via his scent,” she replied.
Luke raised an eyebrow. “How did you
get that?” he wondered.
A sly smile slipped onto Stacy’s lips. “I have my ways, but let’s just say we have the same cleaning lady.” She held out the sock. “Now sniff.”
Everyone hesitated. Baker looked between the sock and the holder. “Will that really help us find Callean in a large ball?”
“If you don’t find him you’ll find one of his two bodyguards. They’re around him so much they smell just like him,” she assured him.
With no other choice we each in turn took a sniff of the sock. I was last and stood before the smelly thing with my face twisted in disbelief and disgust. “Two months ago if somebody told me I was going to be standing in a period costume sniffing an old sock to find a gang lord I would have told them they were nuts,” I commented.
Stacy shrugged. “It’s no fun being sane,” she returned.
I sighed and took a quick sniff of the sock. It smelled as bad as it looked and I had to fight the bile rising in my throat. “And it’s not much fun being a werewolf,” I muttered.
“But the dirty part of the job is done, so let’s go,” Stacy commanded.
We grabbed a taxi and, after a lot of tight squeezing, drove through the crummy districts into the high-society ones. The houses on those large, manicured blocks were even more grand than where Stevens lived. These were towering towers of homes built of stone with expansive lawns hidden behind tall walls made of the same stone. Black steel gates kept the curious and the solicitors from walking up the paved driveways to the grand entrances of these imperious homes.
Our destination was one of the grander of these fine old homes. It was as large as a small high school with four floors and a full basement. Wide, tall paned windows looked out on a bustling lawn filled with people dressed in costume and masks, and served by servants impeccably attired in penguin suits. The gates were open to long, black cars that drove up to the circular entrance, dropped off their handsome fair, and left through the exit gates.
Our taxi stuck out like a sore thumb, but we looked great as we dumped out of the yellow cab like clowns from a toy car. After that tight fit our poofy dresses and suits sprang back to life, and Stacy led us up to the double doors that opened to a grand entrance hall filled with masked guests. A short man with a clipboard stood to one side and greeted everyone with a smile. Stacy walked up to him and tapped him on the head. He whipped his head up and glared at her until he recognized her smiling face.
“Miss Stevens, what a pleasant surprise. We were told you weren’t coming,” he greeted her. We didn’t have to ask to guess it was Cranston who told them that.
“I changed my mind at the last moment.” She waved her hand toward the full room. “Is there any space left in there for my friends and I?”
He chuckled. “Always, Miss Stevens. The ballroom is hardly filled and I’m sure with such lovely gentlemen with you you will want to dance to the orchestra.”
“Is my father here yet?” she asked him.
The short man shook his head. “No, Miss Stevens. He said he wasn’t coming, either, and has sent hi secretary, instead.”
She bowed her head. “Thank you.” She brushed past him and we followed her into the crowded entrance hall. A grand staircase led up to the second-floor balcony, and on the left and right were open double doors. The left led to a long dining hall, the right to the ballroom.
Luke slipped up beside her with me on her other side, and Baker and Alistair behind us. “Any idea where Callean might be?” he asked her.
She shrugged. “Anywhere. He likes to dance and I know he likes food,” she replied.
Luke glanced back at the two men. “You two checking the dining hall while we search the ballroom.”
Baker frowned and pulled at his frilly collar. The costume had worsened his usually sour mood. “I don’t take orders from another lord,” he growled.
“There’s a first time for everything, and we need to split up if we hope to find him before Cranston does,” Luke countered.
Alistair stepped up and swept his hand toward the dining hall. “I would be honored to assist you in the search.” Baker, while not one for servants, wasn’t entirely immune to flattery. He nodded his head and the pair strode off for the hunt.
Luke nodded toward the ballroom. “Let’s hope one of us has luck finding him before it’s too late.”
“And let’s hope he’s on his best behavior tonight,” Stacy added.
Luke turned to her with a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked her.
She smiled and shrugged. “Oh, he just has a reputation for being a womanizer. Even taking other wolves’ mates and never letting them go because he’s insanely jealous. Just that sort of thing.”
Luke’s eyes twitched and he opened his mouth to begin a tirade, but the flow of the crowd shifted. Everyone decided to go into the ballroom, and we were swept into the tide of dresses and frilly shirts. All of us were swept apart and into the ballroom and into a lot of trouble.
22
We twisted and tumbled our way through the crowd and into the ballroom. It was a large, long room the size of half a football field with tables and chairs at our end and the other dominated by a dance floor complete with a small orchestra on a stage. The wall opposite the entrance doors was a long line of large windows with thick, heavy curtains that dragged the floor. This room was almost as crowded as the entrance hall, and with the steady flow in a few minutes it would be. My dress constantly pressed against somebody’s pant leg or another dress, and I was given my fair share of glares and raised eyebrows.
Stacy slipped into the high-society crowd like old pros. She was greeted with warm smiles and hearty hugs, and even Luke found himself recognized by some of the more world-wise guests. He tried to fight the flow of party-goers to get to me, but was stopped in conversation by ladies and gentlemen eager to rub elbows with a lord. I was a nobody, so I was pushed to the far edges of the crowd and spat out like an unwanted playmate. Luke stood on his tiptoes over the heads of the crowd to watch me, and I smiled and shrugged. We’d waste half the night getting to teach other, so I gave him up for lost, at least for now.
Besides, since I was a nobody I had the best chance at finding Callean. Unfortunately, that’s also when I realized I had no idea how to use the sock scent to track the guy. The smell was still in my nose, but so were a bunch of other smells. That meant I could only go off my eyes. The only resemblance I had was from his mother, so I was forced to put her wizened face into my mind as I squished through the crowds looking for him. I went north while my companions were bogged down near the tables. The orchestra played a soft, sweet tune and the dance floor was occupied by a few couples. I hoped I could get onto the stage and catch a glimpse of someone wearing gold clothing.
A tall man with unruly black hair and a dark complexion stood at the edge of the dance floor idly swishing a glass of wine. When I came close to the floor his dark eyes swept over me, and he sauntered over. “May I have this dance?” he briskly asked me.
“I-I can’t really-” He didn’t wait for me to finish before he wrapped his arm around me and whisked me onto the dance floor. I blushed and tried to pull from his grasp, but he held me with all the strength of an alpha werewolf. That didn’t stop me from growling at him. “Do you mind?”
“No, do you?” he teasingly wondered. There was something familiar, and irritating, about this guy.
I clenched my teeth so hard the noise could have been heard through the noisy crowd to the south of us. “Yes, now let me go or-”
“A little quieter or they’ll hear you,” he warned me.
I frowned and glanced around. There was a crowd growing on the outskirts of the dance floor, but I didn’t see anyone suspicious among the masked people. “Who will hear me?” I asked him.
“The spies from the patrols,” he whispered. I whipped my head up to him and my mouth fell open. He smirked. “Don’t be surprised. I keep tabs on all the criminals in my city.”
“What’s that supposed to mean
?” I questioned him.
He chuckled and leaned down so his lips brushed against my ear. “It means I know you’re Rebecca Laughton.” I felt the color drain from my face. “You don’t have to worry about me. The trouble you’ve been making hasn’t affected my interests.”
I pulled back and scowled at him. “I’m not a criminal,” I protested.
He smirked and shrugged. “That’s not what the rumors in my city have told me,” he countered.
“What makes you think this is your city?” I snapped at him.
“Owe, just some investments here, there, and everywhere in-between,” he replied. His eyes swept over me, but I wasn’t flattered. “I might want to invest in other places, too,” he hinted. The man chuckled at his own joke until I stabbed my heels into his toes. He winced, but didn’t release me. “Do you have two left feet?” he asked me.
“And a lead heel,” I added. “Besides, I tried to tell you I couldn’t dance.”
He smirked. “Oh, you’re not doing too bad a job. I know I’m enjoying myself.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’re thinking, but I’m already taken,” I growled. I glanced at the growing crowds around the dance floor, but didn’t spot my missing mate. More and more couples joined in the dance and soon we couldn’t twirl without brushing against another pairing.
“I know, Lord Laughton has you, but I can’t resist a pretty face,” he cooed. He lifted his mask just slightly and showed off the face of a dashing man a little older than Luke. “And I’m sure you can’t resist me.”
My face fell and my tone became so dry my mouth felt like a desert. “I bet I can,” I challenged him.
The man’s face twisted into surprise. “Don’t you know me?” he asked me.
I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. “No, should I?”
“Yes, but you won’t recognize him for long,” a voice spoke up. Luke sprang from the crowd of dancers and slammed his fist into the side of my partner’s face. The man flew back a yard and slid along the floor a few more, colliding with a half dozen pairings and causing a chain reaction of collapsing dresses and puffy suits.