Bite Back Box Set 2

by Mark Henwick

  Tom wasn’t finished.

  “Here’s the kicker: the Hidden Path are claiming the LA Were are involved. The meeting with Karamazin was only taking place because the Were made the complaint, and the meeting place was chosen by the Were. Everyone’s clammed up behind security until this gets fixed.” Tom checked his watch. “I’ve sent a couple of guys to retrieve the rest of your House from the club.”

  Jen was in New York and well out of it at the moment. Julie and Keith were with her and they’d hear the news. They’d know what to do.

  “Alex?” I asked.

  “He’s out with the patrols.” Tom shrugged. “A Basilikos team would be dumber than they seem to be if they try taking one of those on.”

  Regardless of how many were dead in the attack, this was exactly what Basilikos wanted—to disrupt the conference and halt progress to a new Assembly. Skylur had to understand that, so what was he going to do about it?

  Tom held up a hand and turned away, pressing the earbud of his commset tighter into his ear.

  “Yes, sir,” he said, and turned back to us. “Skylur wants to see both of you, now. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 21

  Tom had a box van outside. From the plain white color you’d have thought it was an ordinary workman’s utility vehicle. Only the slight settling on the suspension would give anyone a clue it was as armored as a SWAT truck.

  We crossed to the truck and slipped quickly inside, Bian and me still in our workout gear. I’d managed to grab clothes to change into, and a pair of Sig Sauers in shoulder holsters.

  A car with the remainder of the Altau guards was waiting outside and we both headed downtown, with Tom still querying our exact destination on the commset. Someone at the base was paranoid and kept him guessing. I approved.

  Bian and I changed clothes in the back of the van, to everyone’s amusement.

  As we approached downtown, Tom got a call to take Santa Monica, heading west.

  We’d just made the junction when there was an interruption: a burst of quick Athanate—someone speaking hurriedly in a tense situation. I caught the words ‘Albuquerque’ and ‘Vasana’.

  Crap.

  “The Albuquerque Were are at the club,” Bian confirmed, holding up a hand to keep me quiet. “Standoff.”

  “Tom, get the guards to back down,” I said quickly, reaching over to grab his arm. “There’s no threat. Let me talk to them.”

  For a moment, I thought he’d refuse. I was pulling a stunt in the middle of his operation. Worst case, someone got killed because of me. His op, his blame.

  Tom’s eyes flicked to Bian, and she nodded.

  He spoke in Athanate and gave me the commset.

  “This is House Farrell,” I said. “It’s urgent I talk to whoever’s there from the Albuquerque pack.”

  I didn’t know the Altau voice on the other end. “Okay. Wait one.”

  There were background sounds of an argument, then a new voice, angry and waspish: “Yes?”

  I sent up a silent prayer. One of them I knew. I could visualize her: close enough to my size that she’d loaned me a pair of leather pants. A woman with long black hair and a face as fierce as a hawk. On the other hand, not a particular friend, especially after Zane, her alpha, made it clear he wanted into those pants she’d loaned me.

  “Haz, it’s Amber. Back off and wait for me to get there.”

  “Snake,” she said in greeting. “Why the fuck should we?”

  At least she knew who it was—she’d called me ‘Snake’ down in Albuquerque. Among other things.

  “Because we’re all associated. Your pack’s associated with mine. Altau is associated with me. Dominé’s my House, so she’s my pack as well. We can settle this. I don’t know what you want, but it’s really important that you don’t start a fight with Altau. Really important.”

  There was a long moment of silence, but she came back quieter and more in control. “Why?”

  “There’s been an attack on Athanate in LA only an hour or so ago. Some factions are blaming the local Were. Doesn’t matter that you’re out of your territory; showing up and fighting us will get you lumped in with them.”

  Another silence. I held my breath.

  “You close by?”

  “No.” I didn’t want to lie, and I wondered how the next part would go down. “I’ve got to see House Altau first. I’ll come as soon as I can.”

  I could hear Haz speaking to the others, breathing hard, and angry voices in the background.

  “Problem,” Haz said.

  “What?”

  “Rita’s with me. She’s squaring off against the silver-haired foreigner. They’re not listening to me.”

  Yelena.

  “Is Zane there?”

  “No.”

  “Shit! Hand me over to Rita.” There was a snarl in the background. “Please,” I added desperately.

  Silence, and then: “What?” in a screech that was halfway cougar.

  It wasn’t much, but Rita was talking.

  Whatever the Albuquerque pack wanted to think of Rita, the were-cougar when she was angry was borderline rogue, kept in check by Zane’s dominance as her alpha. Zane wouldn’t have sent her to the club if he’d known there would be a complication like this, not without him being there too. I thought I could talk her down face to face, but over the phone?

  And if she stopped talking, her eyes would go that green that seemed lit from inside, her body would start to slink and no one would be able to reach her.

  “Rita, please talk to me. There doesn’t need to be a fight.”

  Silence.

  “I’ll be there in a couple of hours,” I said, and hoped I was right. “I really need this. Whatever it is you need from LA, we can work together on it, but these are my people, my pack. Please.”

  “Two hours,” Rita said. The cougar overtones in her voice had weakened.

  “I owe you,” I said. “I really do. Anything.”

  “Bite me.” I wasn’t sure if that was a request or a joke, but Rita had already tossed the commset to Yelena.

  “Boss?” Yelena’s voice was tense, the Ukrainian accent strong. She was on the same hair-trigger as Rita.

  “Whatever you and Dominé can do to calm it all down and keep it that way for a couple of hours.”

  “Understood.”

  I heard Haz suggest they wait in their truck outside, and then Vera’s voice. I thought it sounded like an invitation.

  My heart felt as if it was knocking in my throat. Mixed in with down-to-earth wisdom and solid common sense, Vera was still prone to saying the occasional completely wacked-out thing. It would be my luck Haz or Rita would take offense.

  But before I could check, Tom took the commset out of my hands and began reporting what had gone down back to HQ.

  I had to trust my House.

  I looked out the front, through the window into the cab, trying to calm myself down. Every meeting with Skylur had the potential for horrendous surprises and danger. I needed to be in complete control of myself. Leave the situation at Club Vasana to Yelena and Dominé. Focus on what Skylur would come up with.

  My own needs? They had to wait. Resolution. Redemption. Not now.

  Focus.

  ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

  Ten minutes later, we’d come off Santa Monica and taken Venice into Culver City. The road was lined with the blank backs of businesses, and the facility trucks parked along it gave the hint that this was all LA’s industry.

  I had thought the driver was only taking a short cut, but the anonymous studios stopped abruptly, and our little convoy turned right to pass through a pair of elegant wrought-iron gates.

  The building we stopped in front of was set back behind a wide expanse of lawn. It was a cool white, the front punctuated by neat ranks of identical gray-shuttered windows. We walked up a double flight of pale stone steps to the grandiose portico that loomed over the front doors.

  Tom and the guards had put their weapons away in trendy sports
bags. One of the guards hefted an impressive pro movie camera over his shoulder; another carried audio equipment and cables. The rest had clipboards, makeup kits and the obscure, miscellaneous clutter that characterized a film crew.

  There was no sign above the entrance to the building, no indication of the business until the doorman approached.

  “Welcome to Bembridge Studios,” he said smoothly. “Unfortunately, the whole facility is—”

  Tom waved a pass. “Taken. Yup, that’s us. Altau Group Media. Sorry, haven’t had time to organize everyone’s passes or call ahead.”

  “Of course, sir.” The man bowed and at the same time, Elizabetta appeared through a set of double doors, beckoning us to hurry on.

  I took a deep breath through my nose. The cinnamon and copper base of the Altau marque was evident now that we were inside. It soothed me. Whatever the name of the ‘film company’ that was hiring these studio facilities, it was an Altau headquarters. I guessed if you wanted an excuse for a lot of fit young people with bulky equipment coming and going at all times, demanding privacy and security, making a movie was as good a cover as any.

  We walked to the left wing of the studios, the security getting discreetly tighter at every doorway.

  Skylur was in a windowless planning room, standing in front of an array of screens displaying the area map from San Fernando in the north all the way down to Mission Viejo in the south.

  I didn’t know the symbols, but assuming the red ones were strikes by Basilikos, it was reassuring to see only a few. All the way across the map were dozens of green symbols and a scatter of blue.

  Skylur turned and saw me looking.

  “Fatal attacks in red. All attackers dead and three fatalities in the delegates and their security teams,” he said somberly and waved at the screens. “Blue attacks repulsed with casualties. Green is good. Every green circle is a House in lockdown behind their own security and realizing what I’ve been saying about our vulnerability is not exaggerated.”

  Tarez stood beside him, half listening to a conversation on a commset, his gray-flecked black hair swept back and reminding me again of ravens’ wings. His marque was a blade-sharp, dry contrast to the rich copper and cinnamon of Altau.

  “The attack seems to have wound down. We may have overreacted,” he said, wagging his hand to show he didn’t think so, “but it’s emphasized to everyone the capabilities of the Houses remaining in Basilikos.”

  Skylur’s eyes hooded.

  He didn’t believe the separation of Hidden Path and Basilikos. He suspected Correia leading the Hidden Path was the acceptable political face and Matlal, or whoever ran Basilikos now, was the armed wing of the same organization.

  What I’d heard of Correia’s lukewarm condemnation of Basilikos, her constant mentioning of her ‘understanding of the very real alienation of those Houses’ and ‘reaching out to them’, all put me firmly in Skylur’s camp.

  But according to Elizabetta, too many of our allies in Panethus seemed inclined to take Correia at face value.

  At that moment, Naryn entered the room. As always, he walked with an effortless economy of movement, his body compact and powerful.

  His upswept brows pulled into a frown at seeing me. Again, as always.

  Skylur gestured for us to follow. Tom, Elizabetta and the guards stayed behind. Only Tarez and Naryn joined Bian and me in the next room, a small office.

  The furniture consisted of a single high-backed chair, a sleek black table and a gray carpet which matched the color of the shutters outside. In the precise middle of the table lay two identical rolls of tan paper, bound with blue ribbon and sealed with old-fashioned blood-red wax.

  Beside me, Bian inhaled sharply.

  What now?

  Skylur picked one of the rolls up.

  “House Farrell, House Tarez, attend,” Skylur said.

  I stiffened. The word, attend, in that voice. Whatever it was, I was required to formally witness what was about to happen.

  “Ykos Bazhir,” Skylur said.

  House Bazhir in Athanate. Naryn’s surname.

  Which meant Naryn was now House Bazhir. Did that mean he was no longer Diakon of House Altau?

  If it got him out of my hair, I didn’t care if they made him Grand Poobah, as long as it was at the other end of the country. Fairbanks in Alaska was nice, I’d heard. Maybe not this time of year, but still.

  “Ykos Altau,” Naryn replied, his voice calm and deep, hiding emotion. His blunt hands squeezed into fists for a second, then relaxed as Skylur passed him the roll.

  What’s the other roll? Bian? It has to be.

  “Ykos Trang,” Skylur said. The words seemed to rumble like stones on a wooden floor.

  “Ykos Altau,” Bian replied, her quiet voice hiding an inner turmoil she was struggling to contain. He placed the roll in her hands.

  “In deference to the witnesses, we should proceed in English,” Skylur went on.

  He nodded at Bian, and she broke the seal on her roll. The scroll whispered as she pulled it flat.

  It was in Athanate, of course. I couldn’t even read all the letters, let alone the words.

  Bian scanned down the document, a conflict of emotions chasing across her face.

  Skylur waited in silence. The room seemed to hold its breath.

  Bian spoke slowly, translating as she went.

  “Under the aegis of the authority invested in you as Master of House Altau, you hereby appoint me Mistress of House Trang, a House fully within the loyalty and domain of Altau. I am required to immediately establish the domain of House Trang in New Mexico, fixing my mantle at such location as I judge best serves this task. I am charged with due dispatch and the full cognizance of the Athanate laws and imperatives, to establish an obedient, loyal and thriving House within the terms and boundaries of my commission. This script shall be my warrant before House and Assembly,” she paused, “or other body of Athanate as may later be lawfully designated to have authority.”

  She rolled it back carefully and met his eyes.

  “I accept,” she said formally. “I swear, on my Blood, to honor this commission, and to return oath for oath, faith for faith, Blood for Blood, life for life.”

  “I grant the position, rights and privileges within my gift and contained in this commission script.”

  “My Blood is yours,” Bian whispered.

  “It is done,” they both said.

  At a nod from Tarez, I joined him in saying: “So witnessed.”

  Bian’s promotion tore me in two.

  Joy for Bian. I had no doubt that Bian would do well as Mistress of House Trang: for herself, her House and all of Altau.

  And sorrow. My friend had just been posted down to New Mexico, effective immediately.

  I could tell Bian wanted to ask about unfinished business here in LA, but she started with practical concerns. “Who can I take?” she asked.

  “A Diakon and your kin.”

  Her mouth compressed into a line. She’d need to start from next to nothing and immediately take control of the fifth largest state in the country. All while the Hidden Path and Panethus were fighting in the new Assembly and Basilikos was trying to kill everyone.

  Maybe there would be some remnants of House Romero she could adopt, if she could find it in herself to trust them.

  Even with that, we all knew it was an impossible task.

  She squared her shoulders. “I will appoint Tom Sherman as my Diakon,” she said.

  Skylur nodded. “But you can’t take Elizabetta, until her duties here are concluded.”

  That was splitting Tom from his kin, which was a serious requirement. All I knew was that Elizabetta was coaching me on Athanate procedures. That wasn’t justification for keeping her in LA; others could do that. What duties did she have that forced her to stay?

  I stirred and opened my mouth to check that she wasn’t being held back on my account, but Skylur wasn’t finished. “Your first task will require the assistance of House Farrell.�
��

  Again, what now?

  Bian stopped him. “Who will help with the completion of Amber’s treatment?”

  Skylur shook his head slowly. “No one. Have you reached the resolution phase?”

  My heart skipped a beat and a churn of anger and confused emotions passed through me, but Bian simply nodded.

  “Then perhaps you can pursue it while you’re working together, so long as it doesn’t conflict with your primary tasks.”

  He turned to me.

  “Your list as syndesmon grows longer. Today’s attacks underline that we need an association between House Tarez and the LA packs. We need their help in getting Basilikos out. But you also need to negotiate an association between House Trang and the New Mexico Were, both to assist in the security of House Trang, and as an introduction to the emerging coalitions between southern packs.”

  The emerging coalitions? Felix had formed a temporary alliance with the Cimarron pack to defeat the Confederation’s attempt to sneak in through New Mexico, but Felix would be my introduction to that. Something else must have happened. I really needed to be back in the flow.

  “And you need to reconfirm the association between Altau and the Denver pack, which we have neglected.”

  That was one way of putting it. Pissed Felix off at every opportunity, I would say.

  “Consider those tasks as urgent. You will then negotiate terms between the Confederation and Altau. I want this all completed in three months or less.”

  What?

  “That’s flat-out impossible.”

  I managed to avoid saying I wouldn’t do it, but only just.

  This was my nightmare—an instruction from House Altau which I couldn’t refuse, but which I couldn’t accept because I was also part of Felix’s pack, and therefore completely opposed to the Confederation.

  “Then you’ll need to be exceptionally clever and lucky. Amber, I know you want the Were to be represented in the new Assembly. I know Felix wants it, too. So I’ll ask you what I asked him: what do the Were need to be present in the Assembly?”