The Severed Thread

by Dione C. Suto

  “It is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Wilder,” I reached out to shake his hand while smiling politely. I tried not to cringe in anticipation of touching him, certain his power would scald my very skin.

  “The pleasure is all mine,” he replied taking my hand and giving it a firm but surprisingly gentle squeeze. “But please, call me Jonathan.” His nostrils flared and a flash of puzzlement rolled across his face. It was so quickly covered that I almost thought I had imagined it. Almost. What was that all about?

  “Alright, Jonathan,” I acquiesced with a nod. I was relieved that he had reined in his power a bit and that my hand was still intact. I knew Corbin was going to hate this next part but I really didn’t see any way around it. “I believe you already know my friend Corbin Greenbranch.” I put my hand on the back of Corbin’s upper arm, giving a little squeeze.

  “Good to see you Corbin,” Jonathan said, focusing his attention momentarily on Corbin.

  “You too sir,” Corbin replied. “If you will excuse me for a moment, I was just going to get Abigail a drink.” He turned and winked at me before disappearing into the crowd.

  “Thanks a lot!” I sent to him silently.

  “I’m very sorry about your brother,” Jonathan was saying. I must have heard that a couple of hundred times over the course of this day.

  “Thank you; it has been a rough few days.” I glanced across the sea of people milling around us, trying to figure out what else to say when the song flowing across the room suddenly registered. The quartet my aunt had hired was playing an instrumental version of Cheeseburger in Paradise. My eyes dart to my father and that’s when I saw it, the not so subtle eye tick. Go Aunt Gracie!

  “If you will excuse me a moment,” my father murmured to Jonathan, his focus already fixed on the location of the musicians across the room. I watched him walk away only to realize that as I was watching my father, Jonathan Wilder was watching me.

  “Interesting musical selection for a funeral,” he ventured with obvious curiosity.

  “Jason was a big Jimmy Buffett fan,” I said. I could feel a smile threatening.

  “I take it your father is not.” I would swear I saw his mouth twitch in a suppressed grin. I was not as successful at controlling mine because I could not stop thinking about my father’s twitchy eye as he took off for the other side of the room. A fully-fledged happy smile was spreading across my face.

  “I don’t really care what he likes,” I admitted, still smiling. “Today is about honoring Jason. About remembering who he was.”

  “You’re right, it is about Jason.” My happy smile slipped as he continued. “I understand that the Interspecies Bureau is investigating.” I was betting that he knew more about the progress of the investigation than I did since Agent McCabe was a wolf. Even though Interspecies Bureau agents couldn’t be a part of the pack that was located inside their jurisdiction, it was widely known that they tended to socialize and mingle with local members of their species. Wolves were especially social, needing a sense of connection with others of their kind.

  “Yes.” I nodded, making direct eye contact. Not always a good idea with a dominant wolf since they had a nasty habit of seeing it as a challenge. But did I care about any of that at the moment? No.

  “And I’m sure you know more about what is going on with that investigation than I do.” My mouth did get away from me sometimes.

  He leaned down like he was sharing a secret, completely unfazed by my challenge. “Possibly,” he replied noncommittally, his lips twitching.

  Obviously I posed so little threat that it was not worth his time to even be annoyed, which by the way, irked me a little. Well maybe more than a little. It did not really help that he was so damn attractive either. Well over six feet, he had the usual athletic build typical of a Were. He also had a full head of richly burnished chestnut hair that immensely complimented his piercing green eyes. It was hard to believe but I was betting he was well into his sixties or seventies and he did not look a day over thirty-five. I gave myself a mental slap when I noticed my berserker was paying attention. This was my brother’s funeral reception. I needed to rein it in already.

  “There is no possibly about it,” I scoffed. “I assume that Agent McCabe is a regular visitor at The Den?” The Den was where the Lenape Pack-Master resided along with quite a large contingent of his wolves. You had to either be a wolf or a family member of the pack to be invited. No one else was admitted inside its walls. Ever.

  “You are an interesting woman Abigail Lassiter,” he said. What was that supposed to mean?

  “That’s what Agent McCabe said too,” I replied, frowning at the second man to say that in less than two days. I was pretty sure neither had meant it as a compliment.

  A hand came to rest on my arm. Liam McCallister was standing next to me, staring directly at Jonathan Wilder with a proprietary glint in his eye. I glanced back over at Jonathan just in time to see his eyes narrow before he settled a bland expression on his face.

  “Liam,” Jonathan said. It was polite but just barely.

  “Jonathan.” Liam’s tone matched Jonathan’s exactly.

  I did a mental eye roll when I felt the dominance rolling off Jonathan kick up a notch. Okay, more than a notch. Let the posturing begin. These two definitely did not like each other. It made me wonder about the Were working the gate at the Clan Home. I was surprised Wilder let any of his people work for someone he so obviously detested.

  “Abigail, how are you this evening?” McCallister asked before his nostrils flared and a look of distaste settled on his face. He was acting as if he smelled something rotten. I was starting to worry I had forgotten my deodorant.

  “You looked rather happy a moment ago,” he continued. I nearly bristled at the faint note of disapproval I detected in his tone.

  “Jonathan and I were having a bit of fun at my father’s expense I’m afraid.” I did not try to offer further explanations. He did not need to know everything. “You can let go of my arm now,” I grumbled at him silently. I did not have to wonder if he got my mental reprimand when I saw him purse his lips in irritation. I shifted so that he was forced to release his hold on my arm.

  “Penelope has been asking about you ever since your visit the other night.” He pretended to ignore my arm extraction and lack of explanation. “You made quite an impression.”

  “She made quite an impression on me as well.” I couldn’t help being honest, she was a nice kid. I cast a surreptitious glance at Jonathan Wilder out of the corner of my eye. I was sure he was trying to figure out why I was spending time at Liam McCallister’s home. I was also certain that Liam wanted him wondering. Damn vampire.

  “So, you’ve met Liam’s ward?” The question was asked casually, too casually in fact. I had the fleeting thought that the pack master might be doing a little of Agent McCabe’s work for him.

  “Yes.”

  “Abigail is going to set up a play date for Penelope,” McCalliser offered. I was hoping that Jonathan was making mental notes to take back to Agent McCabe since it bolstered my explanation for being at the Clan Home. “She has convinced me that my ward needs to spend more time with children her own age.”

  Yeah, hanging with a bunch of dead people had to be a real drag I thought with a mental eye roll. Wait! Did I just say that out loud? Judging from the bland facial expressions of the two men, I was guessing I had mercifully not spoken aloud. Instead, I went with the more polite, “I hope to have that set up in the next day or two. I will contact Lok with the details.”

  Before McCallister could reply, Jacqueline materialized out of the crowd to stand at his side. She looked lovely in an aubergine shift dress and silk wrap in deep purples and creams.

  “Pack-master” she dipped her head in greeting before turning her attention to me. “Abigail, it’s good to see you, even under such sad circumstances.”

  “It’s nice to see you too,” I replied sincerely. She had been the one nice person on the whole hellish ride to Riverwal
k the other night.

  “I hope that you remember your brother with love.” She dipped her head again, only this time it was an attempt to convey respect for my loss. Well, that was the first original sympathetic comment of the day.

  “Thank you Jacqueline, I will.”

  “I’m glad. That is the best honor we can bestow on those that leave us behind.” I guess being a vampire, she would know all about being left behind.

  She smiled at me sympathetically before turning to McCallister. “Master,” she murmured and then… nothing. They were speaking, I was sure of it, but the pack-master and I were excluded.

  “If you will excuse us Abigail, Jonathan,” Liam said stiffly, his attention focused back on us. “Jacqueline informs me that my presence is required elsewhere. Please pass along my apologies for my early departure to your mother and father.”

  “Certainly.” Now weren’t all of us being so very polite.

  “You and I will talk,” he said giving me a pointed look. “Soon.” Oops, maybe not so polite after all. Well, that didn’t sound ominous or anything. I nodded, trying to figure out where the personable man from the other evening had gone.

  He directed a curt nod at Jonathan before he and Jacqueline disappeared into the crowd, heading towards the front door. I stared after them a moment, perplexed.

  “Interactions with the dead are always interesting. Especially with the primo vamp himself,” Jonathan commented wryly.

  “You can say that again,” I said. “And I believe that Liam would take offense at the inference that he is dead, though. Don’t you know that he’s transformed?” I mimed finger quotes with my hands. “Not that it takes much to irritate him. He seems perpetually aggravated.”

  “Oh, and I’m sure he just loved your comment about hanging out with dead people being a real drag,” he said, shaking his head in amazement.

  “Oh no!” I gasped. “I was sure I didn’t say that out loud.” Just what I needed, a pissed off clan master.

  “Well, you did,” his eyes twinkled with amusement. “But I believe, in this case, his annoyance was for an entirely different reason. I have to admit that I was a bit taken aback myself.”

  Huh? My brows furrowed in confusion. What was he talking about?

  “You have been marked and he seems to have taken that as an infringement upon territory he considers his.”

  “Wait a minute. There was so much wrong with that statement that I don’t know where to start.” I took a deep breath. “First of all, I’m so not his territory and what do you mean by marked?”

  “I can smell Corbin’s mark on you. Recent if I’m not mistaken.” He raised a single, perfectly shaped eyebrow in question.

  “Ah…” I murmured, understanding dawning as I remembered Samantha’s strange look earlier. I had forgotten about Corbin’s wolf rubbing himself on me this morning. I was sure the shower I took shortly afterwards would have eliminated most of the smell. “This morning before breakfast his wolf rubbed himself all over me.”

  “His wolf?” he said with a little confused head shake.

  “Of course his wolf!” Did he think Corbin the man had rubbed himself all over me? That would have been hilarious had he tried. I would have to tell Corbin that later.

  “I was sure that Corbin was a homosexual,” he said, seemingly mystified. “It caused quite a stir when he was formally admitted into the pack as an Alpha.”

  “He is and it did.” What did Corbin’s sexual preferences have to do with anything?

  He leaned towards me and I took an involuntary half step back. He gave me a chastising look, his wolf looking out at me through the jade of his eyes. “I promise I won’t bite, but I would like a better scenting. If you will permit me?”

  I couldn’t decide what to make of the pack-master. Earlier he was throwing off dominance like a nuclear reactor but outwardly appeared a genuine, albeit attractive, and personable individual. Of course, no one got to be pack-master of one of the largest packs in the US by being just a nice guy. There were dominance challenges in all werewolf packs, most usually bloody affairs ending in the loser’s demise. That reality seemed at odds with the congenial man in front of me. Another man met who was a conundrum.

  I nodded my agreement, and one of the most handsome men I have ever met leaned in to smell me. Just fabulous. There was something so sadly humorous about having this gorgeous man sniffing around for all the wrong reasons. He inhaled deeply with his face inches from my skin. His rich brown hair grazed my shoulder and I was unable to suppress a shiver.

  “Ah,” he said to himself. I was so hoping that that was about the smell and not my tremor.

  “So, I take it that was helpful?”

  “Very,” he said smiling. The smile did not appear to be an entirely happy one. “He has marked you as pack, not as mate. That explains my wolf’s reaction.” It did?

  “It’s a distinction usually reserved for other wolves,” he explained. “A vampire, even one as old and seasoned as Liam, wouldn’t be able to distinguish between the two. I suspect that you showered shortly after?”

  “Yes.”

  “That is why I couldn’t smell it as distinctly,” he said. “The mark is there, but some of the subtleties have been dampened. Had you not showered so soon after, it would have been stronger.”

  “Who knew there was a difference in the scents a wolf could lay down?” I said in wonder.

  “A wild wolf could not achieve the subtle distinction but a werewolf is much more complex.”

  “So why can’t I smell it?” I involuntarily sniffed my arm. I had really thought after my shower the smell was gone, or nearly so at least. Not to mention that elves have a better sense of smell than humans and many of the other races.

  “The wearer is not meant to smell it. It would drive those with a sensitive sense of smell crazy to have a constant odor tickling their noses.” He looked out over the crowd his eyes skimming the others in the room. “Corbin is obviously concerned about you. The only way his wolf would mark you as pack is if it thinks you need protecting.” He turned back to me, his eyes narrowing as he pinned me with his gaze. “Do you?’

  “Do I what?”

  “Need protecting?”

  “I can take care of myself,” I assured him.

  “Hmm,” he murmured, looking unconvinced. “I know you are an elf and as such have innate weapons at your disposal. But Corbin has insured that should you have a problem, any Lenape wolf in the vicinity will feel compelled to help.”

  “Oh shit.” I didn’t really need more attention drawn to the things currently going on in my life.

  “Exactly. And if your issues are with Liam McCallister and my wolves get involved, that could pose a serious problem for me,” he said while running a hand through his hair. “I think I need to have a talk with our friend Corbin.” Even though I was seriously irritated with Corbin, I was feeling a bit sorry for him too. I did not envy anyone who incurred Jonathan Wilder’s displeasure.

  Chapter 17

  “I got quite the dressing down from my pack-master last night,” Corbin reported to me the next morning. He had showed up again for an early morning visit complete with breakfast. I was going to have to run to the market soon if he kept popping up after a shift. I was nearly out of eggs and the orange juice container was feeling a little light. I was going to have to get creative if he showed up again before I did some shopping.

  “I hope you did not come here looking for sympathy,” I told him while flipping over the six pancakes that were currently cooking on the griddle, “because you are about to get another earful from me.” I was ticked that I was now going to be looking over my shoulder to make sure there weren’t any Lenape wolves around every time I was having a tense moment with Liam McCallister. Since we were nearly always having a tense moment, it was guaranteed to cause a problem sooner rather than later.

  “My wolf just wants to protect you,” he tried explaining. “We both love you like a sister.”

  “Honey, I
love you too.” Softening a little I ruffled his hair before setting a steaming stack of food in front of him. “But…” I stretched out the word. “This scent marking business is going to make my life a little tricky.” If my life got any trickier, I was going to be in serious trouble.

  “Why won’t you let me help more with whatever is going on with McCallister?”

  “What McCallister expects from me is not something you should knowingly keep secret. I will not compromise your ethics unless I absolutely have to.”

  “I still want to help.” He crossed his arms as he presented me with a stubborn stare.

  “I know you do and you are helping. You’re my lawyer.” We sat in silence while Corbin went back to inhaling his food, each of us stewing on our own thoughts.

  Corbin’s head popped up as if a light bulb went off. “What if I could arrange someone to help that I guarantee will not report details back to me?” I could tell by the eagerly hopeful look on his face that he believed he had a good candidate.

  “I can handle it,” I mulishly refused.

  “Don’t you mean that you and Samantha can handle it? She knows what is going on I assume?” Uh oh. I think I had hurt his feeling by confiding more in Samantha than him.

  “She only thinks she does,” I said carefully. “I have not confirmed any details.” I suddenly remembered something. “Hey, you also helped by getting Marsha to bring Francine and Jax on the play date.” I had spoken with her at the funeral yesterday. We planned to get the kids together tomorrow at the park as long as I got approval from McCallister. I texted Lok with the details last night but had yet to hear back.

  “Yeah, she told me you guys are meeting at the park tomorrow. And it isn’t like I had to twist her arm. She is looking forward to seeing you and the kids are excited to meet the kid that lives in the house with all the vampires.”

  “Wow, I had not realized Penny was such a celebrity,” I chuckled.

  “You do realize that getting involved in the personal life of Liam McCallister is hands down the most asinine thing you have ever done, right?” His eyes held obvious concern. I knew he was right but what was I supposed to do?