They followed Big Alex to a large table that afforded them a full view of the interior. For a restaurant at the dinner hour, the place seemed awfully empty to Darinda. The few occupied tables hosted males with a handful of hard-eyed shes. She scanned and confirmed her suspicions. The “customers” were all weres, all in clothing loose enough to be shed in a blink, all strategically placed. She recalled Aunt Letty’s comment of how alphas rarely reached old age. True, unless you had the money and power to surround yourself with a pack of finely-honed killers.
This being a were meeting, food came before business. Big Alex had spaghetti with meat sauce, topped with meatballs the size of tennis balls. Roderick enjoyed the same. Darinda went with fettuccini alfredo. “This is excellent,” she said to Big Alex.
“It better be. I own the place. Now. Word is you got coyote trouble.”
Roderick related the tale of his so-far disastrous stay in America. Big Alex listened attentively and pushed for details. All of Philadelphia was his territory. Anything bad that happened to a wolf on his turf reflected badly on him. “Sounds more like it’s apes making runs at you,” he pointed out.
“Working for coyotes. The ones who attacked me took their orders from Alfie. I’m told coyotes are more at ease around humans than we are.”
“Than most of us, you mean.” Big Alex winked at Darinda. “Witch bodyguard. Smart move. That ought’a shake ‘em up.”
“Not necessarily,” Darinda said, and told him about the charmed knife and the spelled silver bullets. Big Alex’s expression darkened. Clearly he hadn’t been given all the specifics of Albert Duquesne’s shooting. “The spells were generic,” she concluded, “so I can’t track the witch working with them. But they didn’t waste any time turning to magic too.”
“So they upped the stakes, did they? Okay. This has gotta stop. Used to be everybody knew where they stood. We stayed clear of the apes and the bats, and they kept off our turf. Then one morning you wake up and Wissahickon’s gone to the prairie dogs. Having apes take shots at us. Now magic too? That’s it. Stinkin’ mutts need to learn their place.” He impaled a meatball on his fork and ripped a bite out of it for emphasis. “Time I took a real hard look at the park. You pups relax. I think we can have the vermin cleared out toot sweet.”
“We appreciate the help,” Roderick said.
“Hey, least I can do for the pup of an old friend. So how’s your mom these days? Still the queen bitch?”
Roderick nearly dropped his fork. “You know Mother?”
“Lycaon yeah, I know your mom. She was a regular, back in the day. Her and her sister. How else you think Letitia met George? It ain’t like now, you got email and that. They’d spend weeks over here. Building ties with us American packs. Strength in numbers and all. Ain’t that why you’re here? To mate with a Duquesne?”
“That was the general plan.”
“Yeah, I seen the girl. Not a bad looker in either form.” He leered knowingly at Roderick. “You lucky mutt. If I was thirty years younger, I’d sniff her myself.”
“Is she in the Registry? I didn’t see her name.”
“The Registry?” Big Alex’s forehead furrowed. “We ain’t bothered with the Registry in a dog’s age. You still think it matters? Yeah, guess you would. You Brits are so hot on proper breeding. Speaking of hot—don’t take this the wrong way, puppy, but your mama was a looker too. I even figured once—well, I didn’t figure long. That one was alpha right out’a the womb. Scared even me. I’d’a mated with her, she’d be running the city right now and I’d be sleeping in the Schuylkill, y’know what I’m saying? And there wouldn’t be no coyotes in Fairmount Park. No offense.”
“None taken,” Roderick said. “That’s Mother spot on.”
“Watch you don’t take after her, or I might have to kill you.” He didn’t sound like he was joking. “You watch your step with this one, Lowell. He’s got even half his mama in him, you could end up in serious scat.”
She managed a smile. “I’ll be careful.”
“Yeah, you two watch your backs. I can clear out the trash, but it’ll take time to sweep up. Letitia safe?”
“She’s in the city with her pups.”
“Atta boy. I got a couple’a betas headed to your place even as we speak. That ought’a keep the riffraff out. Just the same, don’t go taking no chances. Them coyotes, they’re wily little bastards.”
“That’s awfully generous of you.”
“Yeah well, we’re the City of Brotherly Love. We got a rep to maintain.”
With the completion of the meal, the audience came to an end. Big Alex saw them to the door, where their escorts waited. “Nice meeting you,” Big Alex said.
No one spoke on the ride back to Meadowlands. As the sedan pulled up to the house two canine-shaped shadows moved in the darkness, one in the side yard, one across the street. One of the wolves got out of the car and gestured. The shadows receded. The wolf saw them to the door, nodded silently, and left them.
“I need a Tums,” Darinda announced as soon as they got inside. She rubbed her stomach, her wistful hopes of weight loss banished. “I had no idea so many werewolf rituals revolved around food.”
“Old habits die hard,” Roderick said. “Lycaon’s tail, did you see him? How does he shift? How does he keep that belly from dragging on the pavement?”
“I’ve never seen Big Alex in his wolf form, now that you mention it. I don’t think I want to, either.”
“Regardless of his appearance, he struck me as a wolf of his word. I think the worst may be over.”
A lie. He was too subdued, distracted, and Darinda feared she knew why. It would hang between them like an open wound until somebody voiced it.
It fell to her, of course. She was the bodyguard. “Your mother,” she said. “She used to come to Philadelphia. She was a regular visitor.”
“Yes.”
“She might have made contacts. Long-term contacts.”
“She would,” he said. “It would be like her.” Abruptly he strode to the door. “I’d better have a word with our watchdogs. We don’t want them jumping Charlie or Eugene by mistake.”
“Better tell them about the wards on your room,” she said, but he’d already slammed the door behind him.
Darinda stood and stared at the door, slumped inside her beautiful expensive silk gown. She wanted to reassure him, cheer him, offer him comfort, but what could she say? Werewolf politics were ruthless, rooted in a bloody past. Kill or be killed, rule or submit, that was the way of the pack. Witches had a certain flair for cold-heartedness, but weres had them beat by a mile.
She found it all hard to comprehend, raised as she’d been by a family that couldn’t care less if she were half witch or half mortal but cherished her for who she was. That Roderick had reached adulthood in his pack spoke of a strength and determination far beyond any she could lay claim to, as well as a damage that tore at her heart. At that moment she would gladly have throttled Bernadette Chase, and do no harm be damned.
She waited. A half hour passed, and he didn’t come in. She gave up and trudged up the stairs. There had to be something she could do for him to ease his tension and his mind. Other than the obvious, of course.
She double-checked the wards on his room and found them undisturbed. As far as she could tell, Big Alex’s watchwolves hadn’t entered the house. In her own room she reluctantly slipped out of the dress and hung it in the closet with infinite care. When would she wear it again? No matter, she’d come up with something. When you owned a dress like this, you found excuses to wear it. She should put it on and go into the shop, just to watch Peri’s jaw drop.
As she tugged on a robe a prickle of premonition tightened the hairs on her forearms. She turned from the closet and went to the window just in time to catch a glimpse of movement near the flower beds. Not Roderick. Its coat was too light. One of the betas? She leaned across the sill for a closer look.
Clearly canine, the yellow beast prowled at the edge of the garde
n, watching the house. Her room, it seemed, in particular. Darinda’s breath caught in her throat, and she pressed herself against the wall. Coyote? Had they gotten past Big Alex’s guard already?
After the initial moment of alarm wore off she peered outside again, and relaxed. That was clearly a wolf down there. Too big and heavy for a coyote, its movements were decidedly wolfish. The golden coat was an anomaly among the predominantly gray weres but not unheard of.
Having reassured herself, she leaned against the sill and waved to the guard below. The wolf cast her what appeared to Darinda’s eyes as a filthy look before it slunk off through the lilacs.
Darinda sniffed. Not every wolf would be as sanguine toward her presence as Big Alex. As long as they kept the coyotes away, she could tolerate a little ill will.
The front door opened, thumped shut. She heard Roderick’s tread on the stairs. He paused for a moment outside her door, then moved on. He shut himself in his room. She listened to his fitful movements, more sound than a man simply undressing would make as he paced out his frustration inside his cage again.
Suddenly she knew how she could help him without betraying his betrothal to Coraline. She knew just the way to lift his mood and her own as well and clear out both their heads. Why hadn’t she thought of this sooner?
She dug out her cell and called Set A Spell. After a brief rummage through the storeroom, Peri assured her the items she needed did indeed exist. “I don’t know how the Goths missed these,” Peri said. “I’ll set the magic on ‘em tomorrow morning so it’ll be nice and fresh. You need anything else? Condoms? Birth control? Flea and tick powder?”
“No, no, hold onto that last one, and you’ve got a one-track mind. How many times do I have to say this? It’s not that kind of relationship. Even if I did sleep in his bed last night.”
“You what?” Darinda had to yank the phone away from her ear. She wondered that the wolves in the yard didn’t start howling. “Details! Details! I want details!”
“All in good time. I’ll see you tomorrow. How’s Norman?”
“Depressed. He melted his water bottle.”
“Poor baby. Maybe I should bring him here.”
Her door flew open. Roderick, still in his slacks but bare-chested, stared about the room. “I heard a shriek.”
Darinda held up her phone. “Peri. She says hi. Oh, wait, no she doesn’t. She says—Peri! That’s disgusting!” Pixie laughter trilled out of the cell, followed by a click. Darinda set the phone on her nightstand. “We should set her up with Eugene. That’ll fix her. Or Eugene. Never mind. I’ve got something to fix us. A surprise. You’re gong to love it.”
“Really,” he said doubtfully.
“Yes. Really.” Enough with the stress and the politicking. Sometimes you just had to get away.
Chapter 12
The day dawned lovely, with cloudless blue skies and a warm pleasant breeze, exactly right for what she had in mind. Darinda glanced over at Roderick and wished he would relax and appreciate it. Unfortunately, he was too busy throttling her car’s door handle and trying not to snarl at the traffic whizzing by them. He winced openly when Darinda shot from lane to lane. “Far be it from me to instruct you in anything,” he said tightly, “but shouldn’t we be over there?”
“Not in America. We drive on this side over here. See, everybody’s doing it, more or less.”
“You’re awfully chipper.”
“I’m happy. You should be too. We needed this. We needed to get out of the city.’
“You still haven’t told me where we’re going.”
“I told you last night, it’s a surprise.”
His expression radiated wariness. “And that bag you needed to fetch from your shop? Is that a surprise as well?”
“It’s part of it. Just settle back and enjoy the ride. It’ll take us about an hour to get there.”
“An hour.” He eyed the flood of speeding cars and groaned aloud. “I should have just stood out in the yard and waited for the coyotes to find me.”
“I know, the Schuylkill Expressway does take some getting used to. It won’t be like this all the way. Trust me, you’re going to love this.”
His growled response came so softly she almost missed it. “I do trust you.”
“I know.” She spoke just as softly. “Nothing’s going to happen to the house. Big Alex has it under control.”
“What about us? Do you suppose he’s got his wolves following us right now?”
She hadn’t considered that and said so. “Somehow I doubt it. No offense, but I’d guess he’s more concerned with driving off the coyotes than making sure you and I are safe.”
“Just as well. I doubt even a leech could stick to you, the way you’re weaving in and out.”
“I thought you trusted me.”
“Anywhere but behind the wheel of a car. I believe I’ve told you that already.”
Darinda snorted. “You don’t know your way around. You told me that, too. I’m your chauffeur for the duration. Grin and bear it.”
He didn’t grin but he bore it, albeit sullenly. Darinda darted around a truck, and he only flinched a little. They still had a long way to go. A distraction seemed in order. “What’s the Registry? A social listing? You said something to Big Alex last night about Coraline being on some sort of Registry.”
“Oh. That.” He stared out at the cars. A bit too deliberately, Darinda thought. “It’s not so much a social list as a…I’m not sure how you humans view this. It’s a record of lineage. A chart of our bloodlines.”
“You mean, like a pedigree? Like with dogs?” She shook her head. “You’re right, I’m not sure what to think of that. It makes it sound like you were sent here to breed with a show dog or something.”
“That’s not far off the mark. The Registry was devised to help us keep our bloodlines straight, so we didn’t mate with our cousins or that sort of thing. The bloodlines got frightfully tangled during the Dark Ages. Sisters mated to brothers, sons to mothers. All sorts of genetic problems popped up. A whole clan in Russia nearly went extinct from leukemia. The Registry helps us minimize that so we can breed healthy packs.”
“Aren’t you and the Duquesnes related, thought?”
“Distantly. We’ve common ancestors, but generations back. Mother’s gone over the bloodlines with a microscope. Genetically we’re safe. The marriage will strengthen both families.”
Just the concept made her want to shudder. “So Coraline checks out, even though she’s not listed?”
“Mother was concerned. So was I. But the Duquesnes passed every other criterion, and we’ve had dealings with them for decades. I find it hard to believe they’d abandon the Registry, though.”
“Well, if she’s healthy and you’re genetically compatible, I don’t see how it could matter.” She glanced over and caught him glowering at her. “Oh, right, I forgot. You’re English. Of course it matters.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Breeding. The whole class thing. We unwashed masses over here take a looser view. Land of the free and all that.” She grinned. “It must be driving you nuts, stuck with a mutt like me.”
He smiled back. “You have your charms.” Darinda flashed around an SUV. Roderick’s smile vanished. “Driving isn’t one of them.”
“You can always get out.”
“It isn’t that simple.”
“Sure it is. I’ll pull over to the shoulder.”
“Not that.” His tone was sharp enough to cut flesh. “Maybe you do things differently here in the land of the free, but in Europe we adhere to tradition. The selection of a suitable mate is vital because only the alphas breed. Only those who’ve proven themselves and have earned the right. It’s up to us to ensure the health and continuation of the pack. And because we mate for life, we only get the one shot at it.”
“Forgive my saying so, but that sounds awful.”
“It leads to hard choices. Aunt Letty wanted pups. She could only get them by lea
ving the pack and Mother’s authority. Charlie tells me the packs are more lax here. The betas and sometimes lowers get to breed, as long as they can support their pups.”
“And you don’t agree?”
“We always fared best with smaller, more manageable numbers. Easier to feed the young and conserve resources. Or need I point out what uncontrolled breeding has done to your species?”
“Only if you want to be kicked out of a moving car. Suppose you and the mate they picked out for you don’t like each other?”
“It’s not as if we have a wide selection. I just said our numbers are small, and the pool of alphas is smaller still. Sometimes it’s a matter of take what you get. Coraline’s comely enough. She’s healthy, I assume she’s intelligent, and her lineage is acceptable. As long as she cuts back on the perfume, I suppose we can make a go of it.”
“How romantic.”
“Ah, that’s right. You want the fairy tale. The happy ending. So how do witches find their mates? Cast a spell or something?”
“Only the desperate ones do that. The rest of us…”
She trailed off. She’d never been called on to explain this before, and found the words hard to come by. “We’re not really human, but not really part of the night. We’re kind of in the middle. The magic sets us apart. Neither side fully trusts us, and both sides fear our power. It’s why we tend to be solitary. Two witches together tends to devolve into a power struggle.” Roderick nodded knowingly. What a lousy thing to have in common. “It doesn’t help that I’m saddled with this whole honesty thing. I touch someone and I know what’s foremost in their mind. I’ve learned to control it, but...have you ever wondered what your girlfriends were thinking?”
“Not really, no.”
“Right. You’re a guy. Well, I’m a girl, and let me tell you, my curiosity has wrecked more relationships than—well, never mind. The nightsiders all want to use me, and mortals, hah. Tell a guy you’re a witch and you can wave bye-bye.”
“Then how did your mother wind up married to one?”
A London Werewolf in America Page 15