by Drew VanDyke
Funny, seemed to be a lot of that administering of potions going around. No wonder witches gained a reputation as poisoners. In fact, in that oft-quoted Bible verse, “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live,” the original Hebrew implied this was aimed at women who used herbs for ill: in other words, poisoners or purveyors of fell potions. Look at the witches in Sleeping Beauty or Snow White or a dozen other tales. What did they use? Poison and drugs. I didn’t think these Street Witches were doing themselves any favors by imitating these methods.
On the other hand, I guess they do what they feel they gotta do.
Amber said, “Elle says that Jeanetta’s still locked up tight, but I keep seeing her in my dreams, and today there were times during the ritual when I looked up and I could swear I saw her mocking face staring back at me. I’m worried, Lena.”
Lena patted my sister’s hand. “When I get home, I’ll do a scrying spell and let you know what I find out. If Jeanetta’s up to mischief, I’ll know about it soon enough.”
My twin hugged Lena and said her goodbyes.
“You never told me you were still getting visions of Jeanetta,” I said after the door had shut.
“I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Well, I’m worried now,” I said, and then sighed. “Just keep me in the loop, okay?”
“When I know, you’ll know.”
We both laughed.
That night, Amber did the spell. And you know me, little miss eavesdrop, I just had to listen in.
Standard white poodle
You appear to be
Familiar spirit
Come to me
Siegfried. Daemon
Whatever you may be
Let your thoughts make sense to me
It was surprisingly simple, Amber told me afterwards; again, no Grammy awards. As she already was psychic, she just had to open up her receptors to a different plane. So she wove a spell into a talisman and hung it on Siegfried’s collar.
This meant if she wanted silence she could turn it off, like the twin bond. I couldn’t help but wonder how Siegfried would do with it, two-way only when Amber wanted it. I mean, what type of a relationship is that when one party can just shut you out without any warning? But that’s a witch and her familiar I guess. The witch is in charge, supposedly. And that was me and my sister too, sometimes, a constant dance of control and surrender. And we never knew which one of us was leading.
Chapter 7
“So, what do you know about this Blood Moon Fever?” I asked Con Shelby over the phone the next day. It seemed safer that way, and hopefully wouldn’t provoke my allergies.
“What do the pack elders say?”
“They don’t seem worried about it at all. Says it’s all superstition. But it sounds to me like a recipe for disaster if there’s even a bit of truth to it.”
“If it makes you feel any better I can make sure that no harm comes to you all. We can ask the witches for a spell, and I was already planning on calling in Adam and his team for security that night. We can have them loaded with tranq darts in case you all go, as you say, ‘batshit crazy.’”
I could feel the air quotes over the phone. Sixth sense, women’s intuition, or maybe I could just hear them.
“I give you my solemn oath and vow that I will do my utmost as your liege lord to keep you safe.” Shelby oozed that magical charm and I sneezed. Sheesh. He must be strong if he could affect me like that over the phone. Better bookmark a conversation with a witch, I thought as I hung up on his assurances.
I saw my sister the next day as she headed out the door to take JR to swim practice.
“Oh, I heard from Sister Lena,” she said as she gathered up her things from the vestibule.
“And…”
“And she said it’s likely that Jeanetta’s been trying to do spells from prison. She’s been in and out of the infirmary with unexplained cuts and bruises and her normal handlers think that maybe some of the medications she’s being given for pain are nullifying the effects of the drug suppressors. They say she’s going in and out of trances, almost like a coma.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“Well, whatever it is, they say they’re working on it.”
“Good.” One less thing out of my control to worry about, I thought and went to bone up on my homework.
The Delegation of Alphas showed up the following week. Two weeks until MoonFall. Why the hell were they going to be here for that long? Sigh. They did bring their own bitches, for which I was extremely thankful, plus an entourage of helpers, mostly omegas to do the scutwork.
I didn’t need the unnecessary attention, but hell, they tried to give it to me anyway. Lookie, a lupine! Gag.
Con was hosting us all the first night at his home and it caught me off guard to be in the presence of so many alpha females. Honestly, it reminded me of high school. Mean girls.
“So, that’s the little bitch who has Sierra’s nips all in a twist,” one among a chorus of voices sounded behind me, and afterward each new player cast her own judgment as I walked past them into the room. I tried to ignore them, but that only lasted for so long.
I wondered if all females had a similar scent, because below the lotions, creams and colognes there was a wild familiarity that had me on edge. The women were clustered around the sofas and decked out in everything from slacks to full-on evening attire, each with an attendant hovering like a medieval handmaiden.
I saw Dex Watley flirting with a couple of the attendants, making them laugh as was his wont, until their mistresses snarled at them.
At least I didn’t feel out of place in the little black number I’d chosen, more like Holly Golightly in a den of cougars. I was one of the youngest females in attendance, except for a shy child who perched on the end of the far sofa in khaki cutoffs and a nondescript matching top, looking at me from under her dirty dishwater bangs with a hint of green eyes.
The men all loitered on the dais where the chapel altar had once stood and surveyed the landscape of a map that appeared to outline the Knightsbridge Canyon territory. They had manservants too. It was feeling quite crowded in here.
I slipped up beside Jackson and he took my hand and kissed me on the cheek. Will wasn’t invited to this shindig, as he hadn’t passed his rites of manly werehood or something. Though he wasn’t happy about it, he tried to be graceful as I left him alone in my pool house with the remote this evening. I was actually relieved; I could see him starting something that would finish him, with all these much-more-experienced and dangerous wolves around.
Shelby raised his glass and clinked it with one of the many rings he wore, attracting everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, and I use those terms loosely, welcome to Knightsbridge Canyon, home of the new western addition. Tonight, we shall be formally recognizing the induction of a new pack of lycanthropes – and lupine, of course. Though I know you aren’t all one hundred percent behind this experiment, we are honored that you came to visit our own little slice of California paradise. So, eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we howl.”
A few amused looks proceeded from the men, and titters from the women. I could tell some of the lycanthropes believed they were humoring Shelby in his role, as if he were a mere figurehead. Like powerful barons dealing with a weak king, they thought to further diminish his influence by showing barely concealed disrespect.
I wondered how that was going to play out.
When Shelby had finished with a few more blathering words, the women surrounded me like a gaggle of geese and I wondered what the next initiation rite would be. Did these people ever get tired of dominance games and just relax and let people be who they were?
“Don’t take this wrong, but you smell amazing.” A woman in a catsuit introduced herself as Danika Farkas, head bitch of the Yukon Territories.
“Why don’t you ask her if you can taste her as well?” another said, holding out her hand to me. “Faolan Hemming. Grand Canyon Basin.” I shook it firmly, wondering if she
expected me to kiss her ring.
“Look honey,” said an older, leather-skinned specimen from the Catalina Mountains above Tucson, hands on hips. “Don’t let these bitches get to you. One of the good things about being an alpha female is there isn’t anyone except your alpha male who can match you. And since we’ve already heard about how you put Sierra in her place, we just wanted to see for ourselves what the fuss is about.”
So my reputation had preceded me. Great. I tried to be assertive without being aggressive, funny without being flippant, staring frankly around at the lot of them. “I’m no better than any of you, and no worse. With Sierra…well, I think I just wanted it more. That and she couldn’t get over herself. I don’t have that problem. That answer your question?” Wow, was I ever spinning it, downplaying my weaknesses and projecting strength – but that was how it was done.
My words seemed to satisfy them, for most of them lost interest soon enough. Showing no buttons to push was one of the basic solutions to potential bullies. Too strong a response and they win, because they got to you. Too weak a response and they win too, and they’ll never let you alone. That left killing them or calmly facing them down.
I hoped I’d just done the latter.
The small talk dwindled as waiters and waitresses composed of Shelby’s intimates made rounds with drinks and tapas plates filled with steak tartare, barely seared and seasoned miniature pork shanks, and for those who could stomach the stuff, various liver and organ meat pâtés. They tended to be too salty for my taste.
After declining several offers, I turned to find the girl – correction, the youngest alpha, probably still a teenager of nineteen-ish, invading my personal space with a sniff. “So, you’re a lupine. You don’t smell any different.”
I stared down at the girl and flared my nostrils in return. I knew way more about her from one snootfull than I ever would have by interrogating her. Number one, she was quite pretty under that tangle of hair, and a virgin if I were to place a bet. She carried a plain, childlike beauty that threatened to blossom into strength and character if given a chance…assuming she survived. And although she had alpha written all over her, she was also beaten down and smelled familiar to me, but I couldn’t quite place her. My wolf did, though and flashed me a picture of a silver-blond muzzle.
I suppressed a growl. Sierra. Wonder what this girl had to do with her? Was she friend or foe? Anyway, besides rabbit-trailing for a moment, I figured the girl’s attempt at small talk was a rhetorical question and let her fumble her way forward. Hey, there was enough jockeying for position already among the doggie dignitary delegation. I didn’t need to add to it by playing their game.
Spit it out girl, I thought, and then growled at her.
She got her courage underneath her and extended her hand. “I’m Colby. Colby Rio.”
She doesn’t look like cheese, I couldn’t help but think. “Aren’t you a little bit young for this crowd, Colby Rio? You appear to be what, eighteen and a couple MoonFalls?”
“Why? How old are you?”
Ah, the refreshing directness of the younger generation. I gave her my typical twenty-something answer, and then directed her back to the fact that she hadn’t answered my question. Before she could, however, the hackles on the pelt of my wolf began to rise and I turned to find Sierra Layton framed in the doorway.
Sierra was my most recent nemesis. Okay, not really, but she was originally slated to be the female alpha of the Knightsbridge Canyon pack, until little ol’ me got in the way and messed with the program. Sierra had tried to sabotage my standing until I sent her packing. I thought I was done with the bitch. Guess the universe had other ideas. The wolf inside me began to pace.
Ashlee, what’s wrong? My sister’s voice pierced my head and I opened up the bond to give her a visual. I’m on my way.
“Excuse me,” I said to Colby as adrenaline shot through me. Jackson and I moved as one to brace Shelby in the kitchen, while Sully headed to the door to greet his daughter and hopefully remove her from my sight. This is one of those moments I wished that I was a witch, so I could zap her somewhere the sun don’t shine.
“What is she doing here?” I practically shouted at the vampire as his thralls made themselves invisible out the back door.
Jackson put a hand on my arm. Touch has always seemed to calm me – as long as it’s from a friend. Of course that little piece of enlightenment took a back seat to the fight-or-flight reaction I was trying to suppress. I felt like the Incredible Hulk as my shoulders started rising up to my ears.
“What happened to the banishment?” Jackson asked.
Shelby shrugged and shot his cuffs, picking a piece of imaginary lint from one. “It comes as a surprise to me as well. I just found out myself from Antonio Pallermo. Sierra challenged the Rio’s bitch for territory and won. Killed her, in fact, which is a bit much, hmm? As she’s now female alpha of Coeur d’Alene, she’s a dignitary. That means she has diplomatic immunity. I can’t change that.”
“You know, you’re a snake don’t you?” I said. “You could have warned us right away. Sent us a text…something.”
“And spoil the entertainment? Besides, this isn’t my problem unless you make it so. If you want to be an alpha, grow up and be one. It’s not all about being the strongest. Sometimes it’s about being the bigger person.” He smiled, showing his fangs. “Or faking it.”
Touché, I thought. I had a feeling I was going to try to kill this vampire someday, but not today. I shook my head and left Jackson to fight it out with Con. I just wasn’t up to the confrontation. It’s not in my nature to run from a battle, but somehow he always made me feel like I was back in school with the teachers wagging their fingers at me.
We wrestle not with flesh and blood, the catechism came to me, only the guy who wrote that didn’t know that there were worse things in flesh and blood than he imagined. No, nothing trumps the darkness that dwelt in the human heart. Trap it in a supernatural body and it became much more terrifying.
No, not talking about Con.
Me.
I was a dangerous bitch, and Sierra made me want to give the rage its freedom, but I tried to be at least half a grownup here. If I couldn’t be calm in her presence, then I just wouldn’t be anywhere near her. I slammed out the kitchen door and into the alcove with bay seats and windows where we’d left our purses. The wait staff scattered back inside to do their jobs.
Colby caught up with me. “I’m sorry about Sierra. She’s always doing things like that. Anything to get your goat and make you feel inferior. Anyway, she’s why I’m here.” Colby pointed back through the doorway in Sierra’s direction, and her finger exuded animosity.
I knew the feeling.
I couldn’t help myself. I joined Colby at the doorjamb and together we peeked out from the dimness to watch the scene. Sullivan must have given his child a dressing-down, as I caught the tail end of his admonishment for Sierra to inhabit her new position like he’d taught her, with grace and nobility.
Sierra squared her shoulders and regally swept into the room with her eyes raised, her coat of animal furs, utterly improbable in this weather, barely clearing the door’s frame. A much older man also dripping in furs followed her. At least he wasn’t over-accessorized. Sierra was adorned with diamonds.
“That’s my new stepmother,” Colby said, eyes glazed.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. I held my hand to my chest and commenced impromptu meditative breathing. The tension went up in the main room as the rest of the wolves caught a whiff of me. I tried to bite back my homicidal tendencies and lower the psychological pressure.
“Me too,” Colby said. “She’s beyond a bitch. And that’s my dad. I would call him a coldhearted bastard, but he’s the only blood kin I’ve got left. Del Monte Rio, head of the Coeur d’Alene pack.”
“Why in God’s name did your father marry Sierra?” I spoke through gritted teeth that I was trying not to grind. I’m handling this surprisingly well, I lied to myself. As long
as she stayed on that side of the room, I’d keep my distance as well. Although, my wolf gave me an internal visual of vultures circling carrion.
“Sierra challenged and killed my last stepmom, who wasn’t a lot better, to tell you the truth. After my real mom was killed, every subsequent alpha female became Mrs. Del Monte Rio. Dad’s a traditionalist. That’s how it was done in the old days; you know, when nobody lived together without getting married. So that’s how it’s done now. The gospel according to Del Monte.”
“Sounds like he’s selling canned vegetables.”
“You have no idea how much he hates jokes like that.”
“And now you’re stuck with her,” I said. Yup, that’s me. Cut to the chase and pull no punches.
A pained expression crossed Colby’s face, but she shrugged and said, “Par for the course.”
“How many stepmothers have you had?” I asked.
“Sierra’s like, my fifth. Or is it fourth?” She counted on her fingers. “No, five.”
“Why, so many?”
“You know, for a female alpha you don’t know much about our ways, do you?”
I kept my tone even, nonreactive. She was only a kid, after all. “I didn’t grow up with pack. I’m not even a lycanthrope; haven’t you heard? I’m the ultimate black sheep, if wolves were sheep. Everybody wants me, everybody hates me, guess I’ll go eat worms.”
Colby turned her hooded eyes to mine. “I think we’re both weirdos.”
I hugged her then, feeling very big-sisterly. “Cool. We’ll be weirdos together.”
The girl sniffed. “Are those cloves I smell in your purse?”
I gripped the clutch in mock concern and said with a grin, “Maybe…”
“Please, please, please, let’s go have a smoke. It’s getting too stuffy in here and I am so not ready to face the step-monster.”
“Me neither,” I said, but she knew what I meant.
We beat a quick retreat out a side door and stood in the chapel garden that connected to the small cemetery and soon were sucking on glowing smoke-sticks in the dusk of evening.