Bite Back Box Set 2

by Mark Henwick

  Dominé had given us a cell number for Redondo. There was nothing for the Heights, and clearly, nothing for the Belles.

  Billie stood in front of the map, unzipping her leather jacket slowly.

  She snorted and seemed to come to a decision. She held out a hand. It was a square, strong hand, the edges of her nails dark with oil. A woman who got her hands dirty, literally.

  Alex gave her the marker pens.

  She picked a color for each pack and started drawing boundaries.

  “Approximate, you get it?” She snorted again. “LA is a frigging mess.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  She looked over her shoulder at me. “Too few of us. Too big. Too many people. Too many gangs. Too many tourist areas. The place is too frigging…complex.”

  “What about the police?” Elizabetta asked.

  “Which police? There are forty-five departments. That’s not counting the airport police or the harbor patrol. To answer generally, no, they don’t bother with us. They have too much on their hands already.”

  She paused in her drawing to glare around the room. “We’d like to keep it that way. Keep under their radar. You know, not driving trucks loaded with explosives into the sides of buildings, that sort of thing.”

  Oops.

  She took the pink marker and drew out the area from Bell, across the Los Angeles River, up to the rail yards in Commerce and Vernon. She labeled it ‘Belle’ with a smiley face and wrote a cell number beneath.

  She picked a new color, yellow, and drew boundaries around the airports, downtown and other areas. “Highways, stations, airports, tourist areas,” she said, waving the yellow pen at the map, “all common ground for the four packs.”

  Her tone had become bitter.

  “Not for you?”

  Billie directed a lethal look at Horseshoe. “Not for the Belles,” she confirmed. “We stay here, mostly.” She shrugged. “Not much they can do about us using the common areas, but it’s not official.”

  “Where do you run?” Alex asked.

  He meant change and run as wolves.

  “Out of town. That’s all I’m saying with him here.” She indicted Horseshoe with a jerk of her head.

  She drew a green marker boundary for the Heights pack and started writing in the missing alpha names and numbers for all the packs.

  When Horseshoe tried to object, Alex dragged him out. There was the sound of more zip ties and duct tape being applied. Then quiet.

  Good.

  While Billie finished up on the map, I took the time to look over our new allies.

  All they had in common was they were women wearing leather. And they were werewolves, obviously.

  A couple of blondes—one who could have been Scandinavian, the other a compact SoCal surfer babe. One Latina and two tall African-Americans, including Billie.

  The rest of them seemed more interested in Haz than me, crowding her like wolves do, and bombarding her with questions: simple stuff about the Albuquerque pack—where they went for runs, how they handled working in the human world, and so on.

  Haz was more their kind of person. With her biker leathers and bandana, she fit right in. Aside from being a bit twitchy at the crowding. And when they asked her if she was mated.

  The smack of the marker pens getting thrown on the table got their attention back.

  “And the reason we may want to be besties with this woman…” she said to her pack and pointed at me.

  The Belles shuffled away from Haz and looked obediently at Billie, whose face betrayed a hunger that was unsettling.

  “…is all this talk about some spell to help a halfy change.”

  Map of the Los Angeles packs

  Chapter 28

  I held up my hands to ward them off.

  “Whoa. Ease off. It’s a sort of ritual. It worked once, with someone I know, someone I have a connection with. I’m not even sure I can do it again.”

  That dampened the enthusiasm, but not by much.

  It was the truth.

  My head was a different mess than the way it had been. What if my eukori was the key? It was on the fritz. Would Yelena’s trick with overlaying hers work?

  My sister and my spirit guide, Tara and Hana, were silent in my head. Or gone. What if they were somehow part of it?

  And the necklace—the necklace that lay hot and heavy on my breastbone had patterns of energy woven into it by Chatima, the shaman Adept.

  I ran my fingers over it now, but they felt numb. Was I still sensing the pattern that had said I will master my way, or was I just remembering the sensation of it?

  And if it turned out I couldn’t feel it, could I still do the ritual? Was sensing the patterns in the necklace essential? Or sensing the energy at all? It had to be significant that I couldn’t feel the energy flowing through me. Not since that one, excruciating pulse of energy when Kaothos and I broke the lock that the Taos Adepts had put on Diana.

  “Well, one thing I’m sure of,” Billie said, unaware of the turmoil in my mind. “Every new werewolf turned in LA in the last four, five years has died.”

  That was a slap in the face.

  Much, much worse than Denver.

  “Can you hold a ritual here, in LA?” one of the others asked.

  So they have halfies who need me.

  “It has to be somewhere out of the way,” Alex said. He was picking up on my worry and tried to help put them off.

  “You could all visit Albuquerque,” Rita said, easing in closer. “Associates should be first anyway. We have halfies—”

  Suddenly Billie was right in front of me. “What does it take to be an associate—”

  “Stop!” I shouted.

  It got quiet.

  I could feel their need to help the halfies. It was like a millstone around my neck.

  “It’s complicated. It’s not just whether I’m able to do it again. We—as in Pack Deauville—we have to answer to the Denver pack.” I shifted uncomfortably. “And Altau.”

  And I’m the syndesmon.

  Forget about whether it would work or not for the moment. If I didn’t hold an open ritual for all Were, how could I claim to represent them?

  Felix and Skylur wanted me to use the ritual as a way to lure packs to our side. Zane and Cameron would probably take the same line. But what about the Confederation? What about the LA Were? What about the packs in the rest of the country?

  As syndesmon, I’ve got to get them into the new Assembly. All of them.

  Which means they all have to trust me.

  My gut, my damned, guaranteed-to-get-me-in-trouble gut, didn’t want to exclude any halfy, and my brain was coming up with a justification that it would be impossible talking to the Confederation if we used access to the ritual as a carrot or stick.

  Sorry Skylur. Sorry Felix.

  I blinked. They were all looking at me expectantly.

  “I’ll do the ritual for every Were that needs it,” I said. “But.” I waited till they calmed down again. “But I don’t even know if it was a fluke last time. Okay?”

  “Is this tied into why you want to talk to the alphas in LA?” Billie asked.

  “Not directly. That’s Athanate business. All Altau Houses, all over America, have been told to form associations with their local packs. In LA specifically, we want permission for Alex and me to be here. And we’d like some help tracking the Basilikos who’re trying to kill people.”

  While they took that on board, I needed to get more information about the LA packs.

  Something subtle would be the best way.

  Instead, the demon that lives in my throat got hold of my voice. “So anyway, Billie, should we be talking to you if you’re not a real alpha?”

  Billie saw the joke, but her pack didn’t like any implication she wasn’t an alpha.

  It was the Scandinavian type who spoke, angrily. “They don’t have a say in who we get to choose for our alpha.”

  “Okay, okay. Sounds good to me,” I said, to calm them
down again. “So how come they don’t even see you as a pack?”

  The Latina answered. “It’s not just us. There are packs all—”

  Her friends stopped her.

  “Come on,” I said. “Your alpha asked what it takes to be associated. Well, being open and speaking the truth is a good start.”

  They fidgeted, just like any uneasy pack.

  Billie stared at her wolves. None of them challenged her with eye contact.

  Ohh. Something difficult to talk about, then.

  She turned back to me. “The truth is…we’re runaways.”

  “Outcasts?” I’d said it before I could stop myself.

  Billie’s eyes narrowed. “Runaways,” she repeated, pronouncing the word clearly and carefully, as if teaching a child. “It’s happening more and more. San Diego, SF, I heard all the way up the North Coast. Inland too, Las Vegas and Flagstaff.”

  “Women werewolves leaving the packs?” I asked, to be sure I was understanding what she was saying.

  “Yeah. Leaving the packs. Leaving the alphas that tell us what we have to do ‘for the good of the pack’.” Her voice dripped sarcasm.

  I was going to ask her for some examples, but her pack were there already.

  “Like no say in the running of the pack. Like being common property.” Fingers stabbed me in the chest like it was my fault.

  “Not being allowed out the door without three male guards,” the Latina said.

  “Except when they use us to lure more guys into the pack,” the Scandinavian joined in.

  “Even when every last one of them that comes in dies without fully changing,” Billie said.

  It looked like they could keep this up for some time.

  “It’s not like that everywhere.” Rita came to my rescue, interrupting them.

  “It is hereabouts in California and Nevada.”

  “And some of Arizona.”

  Haz cleared her throat. “We heard something weird like that about the Flagstaff pack while we were in Phoenix.”

  “Honestly, Billie, it’s not like that further east. Why not just leave LA?” I asked.

  “This is our territory,” Billie said. She spoke evenly, but there was pride and anger beneath the words.

  And I couldn’t argue with that. My roots were in Denver and I missed it every day I wasn’t there.

  Rita’s mouth was stretched in a mirthless smile. “Well, Zane is looking at Flagstaff now. If those guys are really like that, they won’t know what hit them. And LA could be next.”

  Haz was scowling at Rita again. There was communication going on between the Albuquerque women that I couldn’t read. I sensed Haz thought Rita was speaking too openly, and not just about where Zane was at the moment.

  “Okay.” Billie leaned against the table and started doing my job of getting us back to the point. “I can’t tell you how happy I’ll be if you guys come in here and change attitudes. Meanwhile,” she jerked a thumb to indicate where Horseshoe had been taken, “what shit-for-brains from Long Beach wasn’t telling you is there’s the perfect opportunity to meet all the alphas tonight.”

  She went back to the board and circled a small area next to the LA River, inside the neutral yellow zone downtown.

  “That’s an old hospital they rent out for slash flicks. Creepy place. But tonight, it’s the venue for Claws.”

  Apart from her pack, who were smiling and nodding, we all looked blankly at her.

  “Sheee-it! You never heard them? The West Coast’s one and only all-werewolf, post-grunge band.”

  “They’re dope,” the surfer blonde said.

  I hoped that meant good.

  “You’re sure the alphas will be there?”

  “Oh, yes. We’ve been looking forward to this.”

  “Great, but we can’t just show up and talk to them. We’ll have to warn them,” I said. “And what about you? If the agreement on common territory doesn’t hold for you, how are you going to be there?”

  Billie had a smile like a crocodile. “We’ll handle all that.”

  Alex wasn’t sold yet. “How can we trust you?” he said.

  “Hang out with us today.” Billie opened her arms to include all of us. “See who we are and what we do.”

  Bian shook her head. “I can’t do that. Tom and I need to get to Albuquerque,” she said. “We have a flight booked this morning. I have to be there to formally declare my domain today.”

  She looked at her watch. The eastern sky was lightening.

  “I’m sorry, Tom,” Bian said, turning and resting her hand on his arm. “We need to collect our gear now and then head out to LAX.”

  He nodded, his eyes and mouth narrow. He’d do it, but he looked massively unhappy about it.

  What was that about?

  Earlier, Skylur had said Elizabetta had to stay.

  It wasn’t as if Tom and Elizabetta didn’t spend any time apart. And Tom had other kin as well as Elizabetta. No, there was something about leaving her here in LA.

  And it wasn’t only Tom; Elizabetta was pale, staring ahead, not looking at him.

  “I’ll go back to Albuquerque with you,” Rita said to Bian, interrupting my thoughts.

  Bian looked questioningly at her.

  “It’s going to be a whole lot easier talking to Zane if I introduce you. He’s due back from Flagstaff later today.”

  “What about LA? You came to—”

  “It was to make introductions, not seal a deal. Haz can stay.” Rita turned to me. “She and Amber can open the discussion. After all, as you said, Amber, we’re associated packs. You can help represent us as well as introducing your own Altau agenda.”

  Crap. Tables turned.

  “I have no idea what you need,” I said.

  “Haz does. Anyway, it’s standard stuff to start with. Rights to visit. Principles of closer cooperation. Broad intentions. It’s easy: we’re Were—no legal contracts, no paperwork.”

  “Rita, I don’t want to be here on my own.” Haz cast glances around—not just at me, but at the Belles as well.

  Maybe she was afraid I’d bite her, but why the concern about the Belles?

  Rita didn’t agree. “We need strong bonds with Billie’s pack. If we achieve nothing else but making the other packs recognize the Belles, that’s huge progress. You know that’s ninety percent of the way there.”

  There was something being communicated here that I wasn’t quite tracking.

  The Belles weren’t tracking either. They seemed to think they were making Haz uncomfortable by being so friendly.

  They weren’t above teasing her for it.

  “You’ll be good. We don’t bite,” the Latino Belle purred, raking Haz up and down with the kind of look that would set asbestos alight.

  Yeah.

  I bit my lip to stop from laughing. If Haz just relaxed, they’d get tired of it and stop. No one was going to suddenly jump her when Rita walked out the door.

  Bian also hid a smirk and then got serious again.

  “Don’t I need Amber in Albuquerque to help make a deal?” she asked Rita.

  Please. If I could check New Mexico off my list…

  “Not today.” Rita shook her head. “You’re not getting a deal yet. I can tell you now, Zane will offer you some cooperation—we’ll help out with what you need to set up your House. But it’ll be informal. All deals go through Cameron.”

  Bian shrugged. “Okay, then I’ll go up to Santa Fe tomorrow.”

  Rita shook her head again. “For that, you will need Amber, but it’s up to Cameron to say when and where that takes place. No one invites themselves up to Santa Fe.”

  So much for shortening the list. I was back to having to meet with the oddest, crankiest alpha of them all. At least it wasn’t today. I had a chance to open up discussions with the LA packs first. Maybe arrange something with Felix and the halfies.

  And maybe I’d fail so spectacularly with one of those tasks that Cameron wouldn’t want to see me anyway.

&nbs
p; Concentrate on the task in front of me.

  “Sorry, we can’t hang out today either. We have too much to do. We’ll have to meet at the concert,” Alex said, returning to Billie’s invitation. He nodded towards where Horseshoe was tied up. “We have to get him back to Long Beach, for one thing.”

  “Let him walk,” Bian said. “Just show him the door. This safe house is compromised anyway. It’ll be up for sale by the end of the day.”

  “Sorry about that.” Billie smiled insincerely.

  “Yeah. Okay.” Bian looked around. “Tom, we’re moving now.”

  She left him to say goodbye to Elizabetta and came to me. “Walk with me,” she murmured in my ear.

  Haz and Rita were talking using the hand-signal language I’d seen them use in Albuquerque. Tom and Elizabetta were embracing wordlessly. Elizabetta had her eyes squeezed shut and tears leaking.

  Bian pulled me out the door before I could say anything.

  “You trust this guy Zane?” she asked.

  “Yeah. With everything but my zipper.”

  She smiled, but it was no more than a tightening of her lips.

  “What’s—” I started to ask about Tom.

  Bian stopped me. Rita was already out the door behind us.

  “Listen, Round-eye: Elizabetta’s taking you for breakfast when we get clear. She’s been able to do some research on Forsythe.”

  A kick of adrenaline in my gut, a feel of a snarl working along my jaw.

  Interrupted by Tom coming out of the house, his face stony.

  Bian saw the direction I was looking and hugged me. “Elizabetta will explain,” she whispered. “Take care.”

  “Yeah. See you soon.”

  “I’ll give your love to Zane,” Rita said, and hugged me in turn.

  “Do that and I’ll come down to Albuquerque and kick your furry ass into the Rio Grande.”

  She laughed.

  I wanted to hug Tom, who was standing behind her, but I wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. I felt awkward, and then it was too late; they were getting in their van and it was rolling.

  The Belles spilled out and Billie rode her Harley up into the back of Haz’s van before joining her in the cab.