“The feeling’s mutual,” Darinda muttered. “At least, as far as your coyote cousins are concerned.”
Wait. Wait just a second. Witches might be solitary by nature, but that didn’t make them total loners. Just because Darinda didn’t belong to a coven didn’t mean she had no connections. She knew plenty of witches and their covens, and so did Peri. Those witches would know other witches. They might even know the witch who’d been supplying the coyotes with magic.
She rushed through the completion of her ward spell then hopped onto the bed with her cell phone and started dialing. Peri first. She was the social one. “About time you let me in on this,” Peri said once Darinda explained. “I love detective stuff.”
“Maybe you should be up here instead of me. I’m sucking pretty bad.”
Peri giggled nastily. “Does the sucking have anything to do with the night you spent with the wolf?”
“For a pixie you’ve got a filthy mind. He stayed in his wolf form. Nothing happened. Really, as far as the bodyguard stint I’m not doing so hot.”
“Hey, he’s not dead, is he? Then you’re doing fine. Seriously, Dar. I’ll be there in a second if you need me. I’d be there already if I thought I had a chance with the wolf. I don’t, so there we are. You want me to call who now?”
“Anyone we know who does basic spells and has werecoyotes for customers. Light magic, not dark. Everything I’ve run into so far has been run of the mill. They might—” The notion hit her like a lightning bolt. “The coyotes might be using more than one witch. Switching off so the magic can’t be traced and no one catches on. No light witch would do anyone deliberate harm.” She thought of her hair braided into the charms, and shivered.
“Whoa, that’s good. I thought you said you weren’t a detective.”
“No, I said I wasn’t a bodyguard. How do you know you don’t have a chance with Roderick? He’d jump anything female.”
“Because I shook his hand. He isn’t meant for me. He’s meant for somebody as pigheaded, opinionated and stuffed full of their own ego as he is.”
“Hmmm. That could be Coraline. I don’t really know her, but—”
“Who’s Coraline?” She could almost hear Peri’s shrug over the phone. “Oh well, you’ll work it out eventually. I’ll start making calls. I’ll have June call too when she comes in. Maybe it’ll keep her from breaking stuff.”
After Peri hung up Darinda called every witch listed in the address book she carried at the bottom of her bag. Most lived in Philadelphia, but she also had the number for June’s coven in Camden. The coyotes used Jersey muscle, why not a Jersey witch? Two of the addresses were located in Germantown. Might as well look into the dark magic angle, to keep all bases covered.
She’d just wrapped up her eighth fruitless call when she became aware of a ruckus downstairs—shouts, interspersed with snarls and harsh barking. Darinda slipped off the bed and cautiously tiptoed to the door to open it a crack. From the sound of things somebody was ripping someone a new one, and from the voice she determined the ripper was Roderick.
The same curiosity that had wrecked too many of her relationships urged her out of her room and down the stairs. She winced at a particularly vicious oath and felt a twinge of pity for whoever had been on the receiving end.
To her surprise, she found the parlor empty. The snarls ended on a roar with teeth in it. That was followed by the crack of a phone being slammed into its cradle hard enough to break both. Roderick practically lunged out of the kitchen. He’d nearly reached the door before he noticed her. He skidded to a stop. The look on his face made her recoil. Hair sprouted tentatively on his face and the backs of his hands.
He pulled back his lips, showing fangs. “Heard that, did you?”
“Um—”
“Mother.” His tone opened and closed the subject with that single word. “I also called the Dusquesnes. Coraline wasn’t in, but I left a message. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that.”
“Are you all right? Is there anything I can do?”
“Not at the moment. You’ve done quite enough.” He yanked the door open but paused at the threshold. She could see his nose working. “You’re frightened.”
“Surprised. Worried, maybe. Not frightened.”
“You’re frightened of me.” He straightened, rising from wolf-crouch to man-upright. The stubble on his cheeks and hands receded. “Do I truly look that horrible?”
Darinda nodded. “It’s a little disturbing.”
“Talking to Mother always brings out the worst in me.” He let the door fall shut. “I don’t ever want you to fear me, not for any reason.”
“Roderick, it’s okay. I see a lot worse than you on a nightly basis.”
“But you don’t see it from me. And you won’t, not ever again. You must be hungry. Let me fix you something.”
“I can get it.”
“My house, my prerogative. Besides, you made lunch, even if we didn’t get to eat it.”
As usual, she found it easier to acquiesce than to argue with him. “This is your aunt’s house, you know,” she reminded him.
“True, but she isn’t here and I am.” He seated her at the kitchen table then dug out a container of oatmeal. “I’m not very good at non-meat dishes. Wish me luck.”
Darinda grinned, for the first time since the morning. It felt wonderful. “It’s hard to wreck oatmeal.”
“Precisely.”
Darinda got a knife out of one of the drawers and peeled an apple from the fruit bowl. She’d meant for it to top her oatmeal, but the kitchen smells reminded her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast—nearly ten hours ago, she saw with some shock by the clock on the wall. By the time Roderick spooned up her cereal, she’d already eaten the fruit. He passed on the oatmeal, attacking instead a plate of raw venison. The term “attack” was no exaggeration. Darinda shifted her chair so she could more easily look elsewhere. If only she could shift her ears.
“I made some calls,” she said, and explained her theory about the coyotes using multiple witches. “I came up empty, but the witches I talked to said they’d ask around. Peri knows more people than I do. Maybe she’ll find out something.”
“If you find your witch, will she betray a customer?”
“She won’t stand by while her magics are used to attack another witch. We may not run in packs, but we watch out for each other.”
“That sounds precisely like a pack. But then,” he added ruefully, “my pack’s rather fallen down on the job of late.”
“I was hoping you wouldn’t bring that up.” Darinda made a face at her oatmeal. “If you don’t mind my asking…” she began cautiously.
“Did I accuse Mother outright of trying to kill me? No. We had other things to argue about. The subject didn’t come up. Not that she’d ever admit anything. She always plays her cards close to the vest.”
Cards. He had to mention cards. The cards had told her too many things currently in danger of coming true.
Fortunately the phone interrupted further conversation. Roderick got up to answer it. Darinda noticed he’d already emptied his plate. “Yes?” he said, and listened. He turned to her and mouthed “Charlie.”
Darinda finished her oatmeal while Roderick spoke with his cousin. He hung up and she set the bowl aside at the same moment. “Please tell me good news,” she said.
“I called him earlier. Everyone’s fine. No incidents, no tracking devices on any of their vehicles. He’d appreciate any details you can give him.”
“They had a green car, and charms specifically designed to counter my personal magic. That’s all I remember.”
“The car was probably stolen anyway. I doubt we’d get far there. Did you pick up one of the charms?”
The sudden heavy feeling in her stomach had nothing to do with oatmeal. “Oh no. Oh crap. I didn’t even think of that.” She slapped her palm against her forehead. “What is the matter with me?”
“Understandable, given the circumstances. You were ups
et.”
“‘Upset’ is hardly the word for it. Dammit, you could have been killed.”
“I could have been…?”
Crap and a half with a cherry on top. She glared at an innocent speck of oats in the bottom of her bowl. “You know what I mean.”
To her surprise, he laughed. “Spoken like an excellent bodyguard. You go right on doing what you’re doing. It’s clearly getting results. They’re coming for both of us now. We’ve got them worried. Worried hunters get careless. That’s the moment they become prey.”
“Like me this morning.”
“You had no way of knowing they could counter your spells. The next time they attack, we’ll be the ones prepared. Catch the bastards napping, eh?” Goddess help her, he actually sounded eager. “I’m going to have one last chat with our…‘muscle,’ I believe is the term.” He held out his hand. “Come with me?”
“No, thanks, I’ve stared at enough canine faces today. Tell the yellow one to stop glaring at my window. It’s getting on my nerves.”
“Yellow?” He frowned, shrugged, and went out through the kitchen door. Darinda cleared the table and rinsed the dishes while she pondered their next move.
Preparedness would help, no question, but how could they prepare? Too many unknowns riddled this case. Hard to hunt when the quarry knew more about you than vice versa.
Finally a thought occurred to her, a flimsy straw to grasp at. A brief search in the parlor yielded Aunt Letty’s photo albums. Darinda carried them upstairs and got into bed with them. First she glanced out the window. No sign of the yellow wolf.
Darinda settled into bed with Lorraine’s old robe tucked around her and started flipping through the snapshots of Roderick’s history. This wasn’t some wolf/coyote war. She knew that in her bones. The cards knew it too, and had told her so. Roderick had been the focus of this from the start and remained so. Why? Because, as a wolf alone, he made the easiest target? Who among his pack would think so?
“Is it you?” she hissed at an image of Bernadette Chase. “Or you?” she asked Tamra Chase’s portrait. “It can’t be about money or rank. You’ve got that already. Who benefits most if Roderick dies? Who wins when the alpha loses?”
She went through the pages one by one. These were wolves she didn’t know, or thought she didn’t. Not until she turned a page and found Bernadette’s carnivore eyes once again peering up at her. This was a much younger Bernadette, around Roderick’s current age. The strong-featured, gray-maned were male beside her looked to be at least fifteen years older. Roderick’s father. She knew that at once by the set of his eyes, his brow and the arrogant thrust of his chin. He stood just a hair behind his mate. Had their marriage been arranged as well? Somehow Darinda couldn’t see Bernadette submitting to anyone else’s decision regarding her life. Or Roderick, for that matter. It burned in the eyes of both Chases. These wolves would not, could not submit.
And neither could she.
She heard Roderick’s footfall on the stairs and quickly shut the album. She picked up another at random. He stopped outside her door, then knocked, then turned the knob without waiting for an invitation.
“It won’t work,” Darinda started, then shut her mouth. If he insisted on being pushy, let him find out for himself.
The door opened a crack, and Roderick stuck his foot in. The wards sparked and snapped. Roderick yelled and yanked his foot back. The door swung all the way in, revealing him with his feet planted wide for fight or flight and the hairs on his forearms bristling. “What the hell was that?”
“I warded my room. I see it’s working.”
“You might have warned me.”
“You might have asked permission before barging right in.”
He glowered and showed teeth. “May I come in?”
“Are you going to behave?”
He sighed mightily. “You have my word of honor.”
She climbed out of bed and went to the doorway, took Roderick by the hand and drew him inside. “I expect you to keep your word, not just to me but to Coraline. Are we clear?”
He snorted, but sat on the edge of the bed and didn’t try to crowd her. He noticed the albums. “What are you doing?”
“Pursuing a long shot. That coyote said something about one of Alfie’s relatives wanting the wolves dead. If it’s another coyote, then he knows a bit too much about pack movements and wolf family politics. I find that odd, considering nobody will even admit to knowing a coyote, don’t you?”
His eyes narrowed. “What are you saying?”
“I’m not saying anything yet. I just want a closer look at your family members.”
“The Chase line is pure. It’s been so for centuries. We have our own volume of the Registry, for pity’s sake. We breed true to the blood. We don’t mingle. Certainly not with coyotes.”
“That’s not what I’ve heard, Mr. Likes-to-Jump-Humans.”
“That’s a romp, not breeding. It’s not even fun half the time. Mostly I pursued apes because it put Mother’s tail in a kink.” He regarded her sidewise. “Have you ever…?”
She eyed him sharply. “Ever what?”
“Mingled. With another species.”
“That’s not a question a gentleman asks a lady.”
“I’m no gentleman. I’m a wolf. You seem to know far too much about vampires than is normal for the living. You had one in your shop the night I was shot at. And what about that vet?”
“Who, Dr. Clark? He’s a regular customer.” Her mouth quirked. “And he’s got a nice ass.”
“Leeches,” Roderick growled. “Their reputation as spectacular lovers is totally undeserved.”
“Been with one, have you?”
“We caught one at the Manor. Thought he could help himself to the staff.” His smile was quick and utterly unpleasant. “He wasn’t so alluring when we had him begging for his life.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“So you are keen on bats.”
“Who I’m keen on is none of your business. Is that’s what you came in to talk about?”
“No, it wasn’t. I don’t know how we keep getting into these conversations.” His smile relaxed and lost its cutting edge. “Leap right in and bite, that’s weres. We’re not so good with small talk.”
“You do okay. For the record, no, I’m not into vampires. I like taking walks in the sunlight. As far as mingling goes, well, since I’m the product of a mixed marriage myself, I have nothing against it. Within reason, that is. For instance, gargoyles are out of the question.”
“So if I were free, you might consider—”
“You’re not,” she cut him off, “so there’s no point in speculating. Please, let’s keep this strictly business. We’ll both be happier.”
“No, we won’t. I don’t think you should be alone tonight.”
She didn’t want to be. That last little puddle of helplessness in her soul just wouldn’t go way. She wanted him beside her. Hecate help her, she wanted the wolf’s protection. “Same as before, okay?”
He jumped up at once and began to strip. “You’re not watching, are you?” he teased.
“No.” But she peeked. He also had a fine ass.
He shifted form before the last item of clothing hit the floor. The wolf cleared the space between floor and bed in one leap and curled up beside her. His tail hung over the side of the bed. Darinda ruffled the fur on his shoulders and opened another album.
He showed little interest in the snapshots until he spotted Bernadette. His lip lifted. Darinda quickly turned the page. Bernadette appeared again, but part of a group of six others. They were down at the waterfront, perhaps forty years ago. Darinda zeroed in at once on the stout but pretty wolf seated at a table at the small café the pack had taken over. “Hey, look. It’s Aunt Letty.”
Roderick leaned in. His ears tipped forward. He whuffed a question.
“One of those trips to Philadelphia Big Alex talked about,” Darinda guessed. “In fact—oh. Oh my goodness, look
at this.” She put her finger on the image of a gangly were with bristly hair and an enormous grin. “That’s him. That’s Big Alex himself.”
Roderick peered at the photo, and shook his head. Where’s the rest of him?
“So Big Alex was a skinny kid once. Who would’ve thought?” She noticed his eyes hadn’t changed. Even as a youth they radiated possession. This is mine, all mine. Just as Bernadette’s had at the Chase family gathering. Big Alex had chosen wisely when he rejected Bernadette as a mate.
They looked at a number of photos together. Finally Roderick yawned and put his head down on his paws. Presently he began to snore.
Darinda went on rifling through the photos. She found plenty of shots of Philadelphia dating from the ‘60s and ‘70s. There were Letty and George Meadows, at some sort of formal gathering that might have been their wedding. Big Alex was present but not Bernadette. She spotted a buffet table laden with food and plenty of weres taking advantage of it. She squinted at the wolves at the head of the line. Unless she was mistaken that was Ellis Duquesne with beta brother Albert at his shoulder. She scoured the photo and didn’t see Nora. Maybe they hadn’t yet mated when the picture was taken.
That pretty much did it for the group shots. The rest she labeled vacation photos—touristy scenes of Philadelphia, the Jersey Shore, Lancaster County, upstate New York, the Grand Canyon. She found the Duquesne brothers again in a photo with Potter County—1977 written beneath it in Letty’s neat, rounded hand. Five men and three wolves posed proudly with two bucks hanging from a tree. George Meadows and Ellis Duquesne were two of the men. Darinda assumed Albert to be the wolf with the serious expression seated at Ellis’s side. None of the men carried firearms.
No sign of coyotes, either. No one in any of the photos she’d looked at appeared to be anything other than a wolf.
So how had coyotes gotten involved? Where was the connection? Who was the coyote relative who wanted the wolves destroyed?
Her eyes fixed on Albert, the faithful beta. How was he doing, she wondered. Well enough to talk? A human had shot him, but if Albert could identify that human the shooter could lead them to Alfie. She ought to call Dr. Clark.
A London Werewolf in America Page 18