by Lola Gabriel
“Do you ride, Claudia?”
The question had come from across the table. A plummy-voiced young man in a pink shirt. Claudia hadn’t really been listening, and she blinked at him. His hair was a thick wave of blond, his eyes a muddy brown, and his skin weirdly tanned for London.
“Oh… I mean… I know how…” she managed, hoping they were talking about horses or bikes and not Segways or hoverboards or broomsticks. Despite herself, she looked to her right and caught Cayden’s eye. He gave a quick eyebrow raise, a quick grimace. The posh guy in the pink shirt was someone’s son. She’d gotten the impression Cayden hadn’t wanted to invite him. Glory and Alex were Cayden’s friends, but everyone else seemed to be more of a social necessity. Pack politics. She had to admit that although Cayden wasn’t good at the technicalities of hospitality, he was good with a crowd, making everyone laugh, complimenting outfits, asking insightful questions, including about who tailored the pink shirt for this guy.
“Well,” said pink shirt, flashing his teeth at Claudia and leaning forward so that the elbows of the carefully tailored shirt were very nearly in the last of his potatoes, “my mates and I get riding parties together now and again. How would you like to…”
Cayden put his fork down loudly, and pink shirt jumped and then shot him a look.
“Manners, old boy,” said pink shirt. Cayden smiled.
“I think it might be time for dessert,” Cayden said. Mrs. Cruikshanks was in the room in seconds. She had to have been listening outside the door. She gathered the dinner plates expertly, getting all the cutlery too, but all the same, Claudia tried to stand up and help her.
“Oh, no, pet, let me!” said Mrs. Cruikshanks, pushing Claudia back into her seat again. She really was used to being worked hard.
When Mrs. Cruikshanks had bustled out of the room, pink shirt cleared his throat.
“As I was saying, Claudia, we have these exclusive little—”
“Actually,” Cayden cut in, “we have plans for Claudia’s visit. Anyway, we have to implement a bit of a shelter-in-place strategy. She’s down here to lay low.”
Claudia turned to look at Cayden. Was he blushing a little? When Mrs. Cruikshanks put his trifle down, he immediately picked up his spoon and ate a mouthful before putting the spoon down again. “Sorry,” he said, “terrible host. I’ll wait…”
Pink shirt was shooting daggers at Cayden. Rather uncouth, with Cayden being alpha and all. Claudia would have to ask him about it later. What was he being so weird about? Was he trying to keep her for himself? She shook the thought out of her head. Inappropriate. Dad’s best friend. He was a well-known womanizer, but surely not even he would…
“Well,” said pink shirt, “I mean, if you liberate yourself from your captor.” At this he let out a loud, phlegmy honk of laughter, “Then we would love to have you along. Out on the heath, you know…”
“Great!” Cayden said as the last bowl of dessert was placed in front of Alex. And he began eating again. He looked at pink shirt, but pink shirt didn’t really seem to notice. Glory made big eyes at Claudia, but still Claudia didn’t really know what the eyes were supposed to mean. She just looked down at her trifle. Trifle…weird, old-fashioned pudding. Someone topped up her wine, so she drank that too. And before she knew it, she was at the bottom of the glass again. Oops. Her face was beginning to feel warm.
“Right, Claudia?” Now Glory was talking to her. Glory was a small, curvy blonde with an extremely infectious smile. She seemed to be with Alex, a shortish barrel-chested man with a big, dark beard and happy eyes. They had hugged Cayden when they came in earlier.
Claudia looked at Glory, apparently with a shocked expression. Glory unleashed her grin. “You must be a little beat after your journey today?” she said, encouragingly. “I don’t know why we have this tradition of first night in the territory welcome dinners, we should obviously wait—”
Across the table, Matherson made a noise that was apparently him clearing his throat? “Ancient tradition,” he said, “welcoming pack members home from war.” He took a slug of his drink. “Actually,” he continued, “originally we would always have had these dinners at one of the castles. Maybe the Tower of London, and there would be a whole kitchen staff. We’d drink from goblets, et cetera…”
He actually said et cetera. He seemed to be in a good mood, though, or else as tipsy as Claudia was.
Gertrude leaned closer to Claudia and filled her in. “We live on the grounds of the Tower,” she said. “My husband is very friendly with the ravens. We keep the keys for all sorts in the city. If it’s over a few hundred years old, you can pretty much guarantee the keys are on our…well…our keyring.” Gertrude laughed, covering her mouth with a long-fingered hand.
At that moment, a pink-faced Cruikshanks stuck her head around the door.
“You can retire to the liv—the drawing room when you’re ready. Whisky and nibbles are out!”
Claudia turned and smiled at Cruikshanks, who gave her a little wave.
“Oh, and I lit the fire!” she added. She pointed at her own pink face, as if to explain why she was so ruddy.
“Thanks, Cruikshanks,” Cayden said, and he stood and gestured for his guests to do the same. “Will you all join us in the next room?” he asked. “A little conversation, or if we can’t muster it, cards…”
Everyone stood and filed out the door, but in the hallway, pink shirt and his female companion, who was wearing a strange, strapless gold dress and looked at Claudia like she wanted her dead, or, in fact, like she was already dead and smelled it, walked in the other direction and then turned and said to Cayden, “Actually, we’re off. Long day tomorrow. You know, business to run and all that.”
Cayden smiled tightly. He looked bloody tired—the hangover still had him by the hair, probably. Immortals didn’t suffer from them as badly as humans, but enough alcohol would take its toll. Especially if it was a regular feature. “Okay, Brice. I know you’re a busy man.”
Brice—pink shirt—ignored Cayden and, to Claudia’s dismay, came toward her and took her hand and then… was that a bow? Whatever it was, it ended in him kissing her hand. Claudia tried her best not to flinch, at least until Brice had gotten his coat and his companion’s coat (the companion still shooting looks at Claudia… what was her name? Haley?) and left. He didn’t say anything else.
5
Cayden
The dinner went on for what seemed like forever, and then there was the after-dinner drink. Cayden’s very bones hurt, with boredom and with hangover and with some strange kind of uneasiness he couldn’t shake. He had, out of sheer duty and politeness, invited Brice Westland, head of the werewolf business commission. The commission was some crap that had come out of the masons. His father and his father’s father had been head masons, and Brice was modernizing. Diversifying. Basically, he was a power-hungry asshole who was far too big for his boots, rude, rich, and had terrible fashion sense. And he had hit on Claudia. Hit hard. Which had stirred something in Cayden. Maybe the familial protectiveness he thought maybe he was supposed to be full of. Or maybe—actually, the alternative didn’t bear thinking about. He had fizzed with it. But to be fair, he fucking hated Brice. His family had been trying to change the shape of the pack, to essentially buy law, order, and tradition out from under them all for centuries. Cayden knew that the whole power of succession thing wasn’t exactly fair. But was plutocracy? The current setup had been forged in the mists of time. And was enshrined in magic, as well as tradition.
Anyway, that was how the mates thing came to be… power unchecked is power misused, there must be balance in all things… or however the legend went. Not that finding his one true love was high on his priority list, or very likely. Ali had described it to him once. A sense of perfect comfort, of being whole. It sounded, frankly, boring as hell.
Claudia said Cayden’s name from the other side of the room. There were only six of them now, and Cayden realized he had been staring into space as a hand of cards ended.<
br />
“Huh?” He looked over at his guests. Was she going to tell him off for something? No… she was mouthing… oh! The Mathersons were standing up to go. God, he was tired and hungover. He stood, smiled at them both, shook hands.
“Thanks so much for coming.” He didn’t even need to try very hard, because Claudia had stood up too and was simply sparkling with the energies of a perfect host. She leaned forward to hug Gertrude and, with a hand on her upper arm, talk about a drink next week. Claudia was good. Raised in court, in that old, stately home up in Scotland. Not like this place… a family home occasionally repurposed. Ali had been so intimidated when he moved up to be with Vanessa. Cayden had said he would visit all the time, they’d explore. But when had he last been? Ugh. Now the hangover was telling him what a shitty friend he was.
Claudia kissed Matherson on the cheek, and they were gone in a cloud of the scents they wore that always struck Cayden as smelling of museums. All the time they spent in those ancient houses. And, rumor had it, Tower Bridge and hidden vaults beneath the river too.
“You look,” Glory said as Cayden sat heavily back down on the sofa, “like absolute shit.”
“Can always trust you for a compliment, Glo.” He grabbed his whisky. “Hair of the dog.”
Glory gave her signature grin. “I cannot but tell the truth,” she said. “Speaking of which,” she glanced at the door where Claudia had just disappeared, insisting on showing the Mathersons out, despite the fact that they had visited the house more often than she had. He should really be doing that. “Ali’s kid got hot! And funny, I think? Hard to tell under all the charm.”
Cayden shrugged, but found himself closely inspecting the woven fabric of the sofa arm.
“Oh daaaaamn,” Glory leaned forward, “Cayden has a naughty crush! Classic Cayden. Don’t defile our pal’s daughter—”
Alex held up a hand. “On that note,” he said, “Glory, should we be getting back to our child? Before she’s old enough for Cayden to take a liking.”
Cayden screwed up his face. “Come on!” he said. “Gross!”
Glory looked mock shocked. “Excuse me! Tawny will be very hot, she’s the spit of me.”
Alex laughed, and Cayden couldn’t help joining in. “I’m sure,” Cayden said, “but as her shockingly absent godfather, I will value her for her intelligence. As everyone should.”
Glory did an over-the-top hair flick and pouted. “It’s smart to know how to use your looks too,” she said.
Claudia came back in, and to Cayden’s surprise, she threw herself onto the sofa heavily. “Damn!” she said. “That was tiring.” She looked up to a room full of laughter. “Did I interrupt?”
Glory shook her head, downed her whisky, and reached for the bottle. “You sounded so much like Ali, but he would swear more. We were just saying how strange it is that you’re an adult.”
“And,” Alex added, “how we need to get back to our daughter so we don’t miss her precious childhood.” He pulled the bottle away from Glory, who had already filled her glass anyway.
“Killjoy!” Glory said, a little too loudly. And then, “Actually, I am quite drunk. Let me just finish this, though, Alex?”
Her partner shook his head and looked at her with… love. They were maybe perfect for each other too, like Ali and Vanessa. Was the whole world going to pair off?
“Your father,” Glory said, leaning forward, exposing cleavage and then laughing and hitching up her dress, “is the only reason this man has any manners.” She pointed at Cayden. “And, to be fair, Cayden probably helped your father out too. But my goodness, they would disappear for days to just live among the humans.” She turned to Alex. “You remember, Al?”
Alex half cracked a smile and nodded, but his arms remained crossed. “Yes, Glory, of course I do. We liked to have fun, but they wanted… what, Cayden, to find new worlds?”
“Glory,” Cayden said, smiling at his friend, “do you have to embarrass both me and Ali right now? I’m sure Claudia doesn’t want to he—”
“Whoa!” Glory said, holding up a hand. “I wasn’t going to give too many details, Cay. No daughter really wants to hear about her dad’s antics.” She held up her whisky glass and gazed into it for a moment. “Shit,” she said, “I am drunk. Apologies everyone.” She stood, a little wobbly, and Alex stood too. He was barely more stable.
“You really take every night out by its horns when you have a kid!” Glory told them, stepping around the coffee table with great care. Then she looked at Claudia. “So fucking good to meet you,” she said. “You’re great, and I would love to see you again while you’re here, but if not, please tell your dad we all miss him.”
At this, Claudia stood for a hug. Excellent social creature she was. And then she leaned and gave Alex a kiss on the cheek.
“I would love to hang out!” Claudia said. “But I refuse to inflate my father’s ego.”
After everyone left, Cayden was surprised that Claudia flopped back down onto the sofa. “Bloody hell, that was a slog,” she said and held her hand out for the whisky. Cayden reached over for it and handed it to her, and she pulled out the stopper and slugged straight from the bottle. Then her eyes met his.
“Sorry,” she said, “I don’t have any lurgies, I don’t think…”
Cayden felt his head shake. “No,” he said, “go ahead. I just didn’t think you were a straight-from-the-bottle kind of a girl.”
Claudia made an uggggh kind of a sound and rolled her eyes. She took another drink. “Right,” she said, “honestly, men…. even my damn dad. Just because we all have to do shit for you and hold things together, just because we know how to code switch and be appropriately formal or nice or neat or whatever, we must be inherently boring!”
Cayden was taken aback. It probably showed. “I didn’t say that,” he managed.
“Well, if that’s not what you intended to say, please clarify.”
His mouth was opening and closing like a goldfish’s might if caught in air. “Uh… well… you’re young and… I…” He looked around the room as if he might find an answer, or inspiration at least. Claudia had put the whisky down and crossed her arms.
“Okay,” he finally said, “I suppose maybe I meant… you seem very together, is all. And you’re a kid. Or, I thought you were going to be.”
“Do I look like a kid?” Claudia lifted her arms and indicated, generally, her body. The pale patch of chest leading to just a hint of cleavage, her nipped-in waist, her lovely calves… lovely was probably a bit much for him to be thinking, right? Cayden’s eyes snapped back to Claudia’s face, but he could feel his own face beginning to redden.
“No,” he said, but it came out funny and hoarse. Now he reached for the whisky. His hangover was at least gone now. Though he seemed to be trying his best to save it for tomorrow.
“Right,” she said, “because I’m an adult woman. It’s not my fault you’ve been drinking and fucking for so long, you’ve lost all concept of time!”
This made Cayden almost spit out his whisky. “Excuse me?!”
Claudia sighed. She had kicked her shoes off. Her nails were painted dark blue. “Oh, come on, all this talk about adventures? I know what that means. And you stank of booze this morning!” As Claudia spoke, she folded her legs under her on the sofa.
“I have a life too!” Cayden argued, but now he sounded high-pitched and needy, a child arguing a long-beaten point.
Claudia nodded. “Right,” she said, “running one of the biggest packs in the UK. But you also have a council to do most of the intricate stuff, and a servant to take care of your every whim here!”
Cayden laughed now. “A servant?”
“Come on! Poor Mrs. Cruikshanks. I’m sure she loves you, she was your nanny, but when did she last have, like, a holiday?”
Claudia’s hair was coming untied and frizzily framing her face. Her eyes were shining with passion. She liked an argument.
“Okay, you have me on that one too, but she loves me. She love
s taking care of people… I… she’s fine!”
Claudia shook her head. “Nuh uh,” she said, “she’s afraid you wouldn’t be fine without her, so she keeps doing everything for you.”
“I’m an alpha!” Cayden said, astonished and a little pissed off. These emotions were both intensified when Claudia smiled at him in what could only be described as a coquettish manner.
“I can’t believe,” said his best friend’s daughter, leaning across the sofa, “you think I’m the child.” As she delivered this line, she stroked his face. He could feel her breath on his lips. Smell the spice of whisky. His heart was beating hard and fast.
Claudia leaned back and grinned, then stretched. “I’m knackered,” she said. “See you tomorrow, boy prince.”
6
Claudia
She lay in bed and stared at the nice plastered ceiling. Admittedly, she would normally close her eyes when trying to get to sleep, but she’d had a go and… Cayden.
Cayden grinning at her, banter with Cayden from earlier in the night, Cayden’s forearms when he rolled up his shirtsleeves…
Yes, Claudia had been drunk, but definitely not drunk enough for whatever the hell that had been downstairs… like, what had that been? Ugh. Another reason she should not close her eyes. She would see herself being embarrassing. Yes, she really was worried Cayden exploited Mrs. Cruikshanks, but not on purpose. And she was a guest. She just got here!
Claudia squeezed both sides of her pillow so that it covered her face and she groaned. Less than twelve hours somewhere new, and she was already messing up on multiple levels.
Well, the guests had liked her at least. Or at least she thought so?
There were a few moments, after the meal started, when she had been chatting away to somebody and she’d felt Cayden’s eyes on her. Appreciating eyes. Eyes that were warm and real and deep brown. Not the lazy looks he had given her in the morning, or the bored-but-trying eyes that were turned on to Matherson. Eyes for her.