Rebellious Hood

by Kendrai Meeks

  His frame relaxed.

  “If...”

  And again, he was a wall of nerves and steaming eyes. Oh, it did my heart good.

  Caleb asked, “If what?”

  “If you stop putting a huey down and help me learn how to fight.”

  “Stand around and observe all you want, but I kinda got the weight of my race on my shoulders here. I don’t have any extra time to...”

  I cupped my hand, made a rude gesture, and winked.

  “Okay, fine. Fine. But don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you’re—” He motioned finger quotes. “—fragile. And top heavy! Get a damned sports bra or some duct tape or something. But mark my words, Barbie, you’ll regret this. I’m going to be on your ass more than any of your fly-by-night boytoys ever were.” In a flash, he reclaimed the towel he’d thrown against the wall and tossed it my direction. “You’ve got a little bit of drool there on your chin, by the way.”

  “Hey, if I wanted you to kiss me, then you’d be—”

  And then, he was.

  And damn, he was good.

  Or so I was beginning to suspect. By the time I’d actually become conscious of his lips on mine, it was over, and he was glaring at me.

  Because that’s what you do after you kiss a woman hard and fast, you glare at her.

  And just as I was about to lay into him for daring to be so bold, and yell even more at him for making it so brief, the door to the training studio opened.

  I pushed the asshat in his asschest to get him the assaway from me

  “Oh, good, you two are going at it.” Geri walked with Markus trailing right behind.

  “What? No, we weren’t. We’re—”

  Panic told me to get distance, but then I realized there was distance, a great deal of it. I was standing alone in the middle of the room, and Caleb was in the corner, mocking forms.

  Geri’s eyebrow rose. “So, you’re not training? Because this looks like training, and I should know.”

  “Nope, this is training,” Caleb said, punching the air. “Amy’s great. Really progressing, keeping me on my toes.”

  “Really?” Markus asked. “Because to my eyes, all you two have done in the two days Geri was gone was bicker and bitch at each other.”

  “Like he said, I’m keeping him on his toes, and you don’t do that with casual pleasantries,” I said. And then I changed the subject, because I so did not want anyone spinning any sentence that would diagram Caleb and I in the same compound subject. “So, did they know anything?”

  “You could say that.”

  Geri ran a hand through her hair, shaking out her chestnut locks. God, why did she get supernatural powers and supermodel hair? It wasn’t fair. She and Yan then launched into a summation of their discoveries, and with every sentence, Caleb and I took turns dropping our jaws.

  “And so...” She folded her hands together. “After Yan and I talked about it in the car, we think it might be worth trying to find the other asenaics by looking for anomalies in huey history.”

  Caleb’s face screwed up. “Why? I don’t understand why that’s what this all led to.”

  The vampire and the hood exchanged a look, but it was the first one who talked. “Because while we do not have access to the hood archives, we do have access to the internet. And knowing what we do now, that the lupine version of the Betrayer’s story mentions at least one prominent huey, we might find threads that will at least point us in the right direction.”

  “But you live up at the Schloss, don’t you have access to the archives? You know, somehow?”

  Why were supes always so cloak-and-dagger? I pushed Caleb back, trying to ignore the jealousy of my other body parts toward my fingers. “I think what Nancy Drew here is trying to say is, can’t you just go all smoke monster and look in these archive thingies, even if you’re not supposed to? Assuming you’re not supposed to. Are you supposed to?”

  The man tried to diagnose me with a cocked head until a moment later, he shook off whatever thoughts had been going through his head. “No, I’m not supposed to, and yes, of course I have. But the archives are not what one might call complete, especially the further back you go. Until recently, the different bloodlines operated more or less independently, and without a universal method of cataloguing or the same priorities of what should be written down, there’s big blank spots in the histories. For example, I can tell you that now, knowing the name of Geri’s wolf ancestor, there is no mention of his execution in the list of the condemned. To clarify, huey history is no different, but much more of it has been digitized.”

  “We might find nothing,” Gerwalta added. “But we’re going to look just in case. Every day, those asenaics are more in danger. I’m not sure how long the Ravens can go without feeding, but it’s been six weeks now. Unless there are other slayer harems they have in other places, they’ll need to feed soon.”

  Caleb grabbed a towel from a stack on a shelf and went about dabbing off his glisten. It was a crime worthy of jail time. “Let me take a shower, and we’ll get to it then.”

  ELEVEN

  GERI

  “I think I found something.”

  As though moving through well-rehearsed choreography, everyone stood and circled around Amy’s computer.

  I squinted, trying my best to comprehend what I was seeing. “Okay, explain.”

  The blonde huey expanded the view of the scanned document on the screen, pulling out the details of highly embellished text. Letters took on definition, but definition brought no clarity.

  “Seriously?” Amy blinked rapidly. “None of you read French?”

  Caleb, Markus, and I exchanged expectant looks that fell away when the truth became clear.

  “I’m only good for English, German, and some basic Spanish,” I said.

  “Me, just the first two,” Markus added.

  Caleb took on a cocky grin. “English, Turkish, Hebrew, Spanish, and Romanian.”

  Amy held up a finger. “You forgot Pomposity, which as I understand is a common dialect of Bastard.”

  Any hope of Caleb explaining the sudden hostility that had grown between him and Amy in the last few days was met with the latter only shaking his head in a “don’t ask” type of way.

  Rather than dig any deeper to unearth that mine, I stayed focused. “Amy, can you read it for us?”

  My huey friend beamed. “Of course, Geri, I’d be delighted.” Then, turning to her screen, motioning to bits and pieces of the image as she spoke, Amy began. “So just a little north of here is a region that’s gone back and forth between France and Germany through the centuries. I figured since all of you probably had the Germanic sources covered, I’d skim through French archives and see if there were any unusual events or mentions of things in the 1680s. And here—” Her right index finger zeroed in on the swoopy text “—I found a letter from the Bishop of Alsace to the Cardinal Montblanc written in the year 1685 which reports a rash of livestock deaths throughout Southern Germany by, quote, ‘a pack of abnormally vicious wolves.’”

  Markus and I exchanged knowing glances.

  Caleb stood erect. “This isn’t news to you two.”

  I shook my head. “We all know that one; we think it’s where the Little Red Riding Hood fairy tale came from. There was an anathema alpha—”

  “Like Ayşe in Istanbul?” Amy interjected.

  “Exactly, like her,” Markus confirmed. “Female alphas used to be considered some sort of defect that made the wolf dangerous. I don’t think that’s true, of course, but this one actually was. She was able to lure away betas from a dozen packs to make her own family. The House of Red tracked her down and killed her before she managed it. Unfortunately, not before they ate their way through the countryside.”

  Caleb turned to me. “And what about the betas she lured away? What happened to them?”

  I shrugged. “They went back to their packs, I guess. I don’t remember hearing anything different. If they had been killed as well, our stories w
ould have boasted about it. Through history, hoods have been pretty decent at sticking to our own laws about when we could use lethal means to curb wolf behavior, but our ancestors prided themselves on putting down the slightest infractions with brutality.”

  Amy spun around her chair while also spinning her eyes. “Oh my god, you guys really can’t see the forest for the trees, can you?” She stood, passing to the sink and drawing herself a glass of water. “Geri, didn’t you say this shewolf you met in Austria, that her ancestor was Andreas’s brother, who supposedly died?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “So?” The glass lingered at her lips. “If Andreas was an alpha, isn’t it possible his brother may have been a beta? And if the House of Red was involved in tracking them down, then isn’t it possible Gerwalta Faust could have been the one to let him get away?”

  As she finally tipped back the glass to drink, her long neck stretched and her throat bobbing with each swallow, I tried to stitch together her logic.

  And then, I did.

  “But that would mean she let him go on purpose.” Every revolution starts with a single act of rebellion. “But why would a hood do that? If she’d had been caught at that time, she would have been exiled. Or worse.”

  Caleb rubbed his chin. “But she was caught and killed. You guys tell the Betrayer story like it took place over a couple of days, but the chick had to have time to fall in love, get knocked up, and pop the kid before the ax fell. Why is it so ridiculous to think the love story started earlier than you think, too? Or is it told in your books that one day, Gerwalta Faust came down with the must-mate-a-wolf flu and went searching about for the cure?”

  Amy pointed at the slayer. “Only you could take a beautiful fairy tale and reduce it to getting knocked up.”

  “Well, that’s what happened, wasn’t it?” Caleb said, defending himself. “Ergo, we are here.”

  It didn’t seem possible that could be coincidence. But then, something triggered in my brain. I went back to my own computer and went about searching the web, even as the others looked on with concern. When I found what I was after, I flipped the screen around.

  “The wolf of Ansbach?” Markus read the title of the article aloud. “Oh, come on. We’ve disavowed that one for centuries. That was just village idiots getting their superstition on.”

  Amy swooped in, eyeballing the text through squinted eyes. “In 1685, the same year of the letter I found? Except if that graphic’s to be believed, that guy... um, werewolf?... actually ended up dead.”

  I turned the computer back, looking closer at the accompanying picture of a human-bodied wolf dangling from a scaffold. “Obviously it’s not Andreas or his brother, but if there really is a connection between Gerwalta Faust and the wolf epidemic, this might have been part of it. We can never really know, but it feels right to me.”

  Coincidence is never coincidence.

  “If only we could get into the archive, then...”

  The computer dropped to the table as my chair flew out behind me. Startled, Amy coughed, choking on the water mid-swallow. Markus and Caleb were beside me in a moment as I turned my face to the front door, gaging the distance of the uninvited guests I sensed outside.

  In my peripheral vision, Caleb turned to my cousin. “Markus?”

  “No idea,” Markus answered, even as he leeched the silver hidden beneath his clothing to form a two-pronged knife. “Geri, who is it? Do you know?”

  Did I? One was coming closer but moving at too steady a pace to be covert, and too leisurely to mount an attack. Not that whoever it was would stand any chance if he were. There was only one of him, and three of us ready to kick ass.

  Three and a half, if you included Amy.

  “Amy.” I spoke without turning. “Tell the slayers to shelter down. Quickly.”

  Without asking a question, the huey obeyed, scurrying to the stairs.

  Caleb rounded my right side. “Shelter from what?”

  Not vampires; that he’d be able to perceive.

  Before I could answer, though, the approaching party finally came close enough for Markus to pick up.

  “A wolf,” he said.

  I shook my head as proximity delivered clarity. “Two wolves.”

  Markus squinted. “No, I’m only getting one. He’s not dodging around or anything. He’s making a straight line for the front door. Could it be... Geri, you don’t think—”

  “It’s not Tobias,” I said, cutting him off. “But I know these two. I’ve felt their presences before.” Definitely the one, and I thought the other, though I just couldn’t place either. “I... God damn it, really?”

  Light brightened the grand room as Caleb conjured a solarium. “Tell me who it is, or I’m going to blast them back across the Rhineland.”

  No time for a witty retort. No sooner had I turned to the slayer than the doorbell rang.

  Which marked the first time in fifteen years of staying in the house that I had ever heard it.

  Caleb did a double take. “Well that’s unexpectedly civilized.” Then, raising his voice, he called out, “Who’s there?”

  Silence for a moment, and then an unsure timbre reached through the wood. “Hello? I’m, um... I’m looking for Geri—Gerwalta, I mean. Shit, you think she’s really here? I’m looking for Gerwalta Kline. Is she... Dude, are you sure this is the right house?”

  Markus honed his weapon and made his way to the door. “What is he doing here?”

  “He who?” Caleb asked. His solarium stayed at the ready, just in case.

  I was on Markus’s tail. “My ex-boyfriend. Who will be leaving as soon as I see what idiot wolf is with him and how they both knew this house even existed. Markus, wait. Let me answer.”

  “I can hear you, you know,” Cody said from the stoop. “And you shouldn’t call this guy an idiot. It’s very disrespectful.”

  My movements arrested, drawn up in the fantasy. Could it be Tobias? The energy I felt was wolf, but weak, barely perceptible. But that didn’t make sense. How would Cody have found Tobias? And why would he tease me with it if he did? Why would he be that cruel?

  Oh, yeah, that’s right. Because Cody was an asshole who kicked me out of his packlands for having the audacity to refuse to kowtow to his edicts like I was some god damned wolf.

  Forget that I kinda was.

  A head full of steam, I reached for the door, prepared to waylay into whatever bastard wingwolf my ex had in tow.

  “Cody Ryland!” I bellowed. “How fucking... dare... y...”

  But the insult died on my tongue when the beaming, warm, welcomed man standing outside stepped forward.

  “Hola, cariño,” my dad said. “We need to have a talk.”

  TWELVE

  Caleb stared at Cody like the werewolf was some piece of abstract art, the meaning of which he just couldn’t grab.

  “You’re her ex?”

  Cody nursed his beer. “Yup.”

  Caleb shook his head. “It’s just that you’re so muscular and rustic and brawny and... and nothing like me.”

  My father, sipping apple tea, turned pleading eyes on me. “Who is this man, and why does he smell like an Abercrombie & Fitch?”

  “This man is Caleb Helsing,” Caleb answered on his own behalf. “And FYI: it’s Kenneth Cole.”

  “You’re the slayer she was talking about last summer?” Cody took one look and hacked a laugh. “Wow, you are so not her type. But tough break. I was pulling for you.”

  “Me, too. Even asked her to marry me,” Caleb boasted. “I understand you did that once too, right before you slept with one of your packlings.”

  “Caleb!” Shit, I so didn’t want to deal with an arrogant slayer and a back-woods alpha butting heads right now. “Caleb, you should probably track down Alexandra. Make sure the red alert didn’t stress her out too much. Markus, give Amy and everyone else the all-clear. I need to speak to these two alone.”

  Minor grumbles followed, mixed with Markus recounting the details of the dramatic hi
story of my first hood-werewolf romance, the last sentence of which I perceived being, “so they found other ways of expressing their feelings...”

  Cody eyeballed the pair until they were all the way up the stairs and out of sight. “You were really engaged to that guy?”

  “No!” Even I was shocked by the insistent tone. “I mean, he proposed, but I was already planning on breaking up with him before then. But let’s talk about you.” I spun a chair around and sat cowgirl style. “First of all, Papa. Let’s start with... I don’t know, maybe with my whole life being a lie and work up from there.”

  “You’ve learned about our... unique heritage, I take it.” My father folded his hands atop the table. “I think you are hyperbolizing, niña. Very little of your life was a lie. Your mother and I only kept one tiny truth from you, and it was only for your own good.”

  “Really, Dad? The Betrayer’s baby survived, a secret that I could maybe overlook if I wasn’t her namesake and, it turns out, her descendent. We have wolf blood in our veins. How is that a tiny truth?”

  His gaze cast off into the distance. “I was supposed to be the last, so that the line would die with me. But then I met your mother, and...” He made a vague gesture with his hands, something that seemed to say ‘one thing led to another...’

  Which was fine. I so didn’t need to know the details of my own conception.

  I crossed my arms. “She wouldn’t have married you if she knew. You know she wouldn’t have.”

  “Oh, no, cariño, she did know,” he said. “It was how we met. She was sent to Argentina to deliver the edict that I would be forbidden to have children. Your grandmother relented, saying she’d permit just one more asenaic, hoping her strong bloodline would wash away any lupine leanings. We did not expect the wolf nature to manifest in you to such a degree. It has varied throughout the centuries, sometime reinforced when different asenaic branches partnered. We kept you in the dark, hoping to marry you off to a hood who...”

  “Hood begets hood,” I said. “Yeah, I remember that line coming up often when I was dating the bastard who broke my heart.” My eyes flashed to Cody. “No offense.”