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Mary didn’t seem surprised. That, or she wasn’t listening to him or Sebastian.
“I think I have a lead. I’m going to make a call.” She hurried through the door, her hair flying behind her like a white flag, before Raphael could mention that many don’t take well to receiving calls from strangers after eleven at night. The vampires who weren’t here already, prowling around the perimeter, were on their way—and they were among the few beings he could think of who wouldn’t mind a phone call at this hour.
The Elders would certainly care. Then again, Raphael didn’t give a shit what those pompous, dictating assholes preferred.
He took his phone off the table, shot Sebastian a meaningful look, and dialed, pressing the button for speakerphone. Sebastian didn’t need it to hear the conversation, but speaker would allow him to talk as well. He could tell the Elder, Nathaniel, and Raphael how he discovered one of the most significant lone wolves in the past five hundred years.
“Have you secured Alex?” Nathaniel said in way of greeting.
“We have.” Raphael wasn’t going to offer further explanation.
The Elder sighed. “Thank God.”
“Rodney Murphy is a werewolf.”
Sebastian raised his eyebrows at his bluntness, which Raphael pretended not to see. The time for pleasantries had ended the moment they were placed in the clan prohibitum. By the laws he upheld as Alpha, he was required to report this. That, and it was a genuine safety concern for whatever humans lived near the senator.
“Are you certain of this?” Nathaniel’s voice lowered and roughened, losing any hint of his earlier relief.
Without hesitation, Sebastian explained what he heard when Mary’s parents spoke with Briony. The other werewolf spoke quickly, his eyes darting to the door until he finished. When Mary didn’t overhear the talk about her ghostly parents, he relaxed, tilting his head back.
It was a good thing Mary hadn’t heard because then Raphael would’ve had to put his friend through a wall.
Worrying for her sister, learning of her likely dead cousins, and losing her home again had put Mary through enough. She didn’t need to know her parents were lingering in their world, fretting over her and Leila. Besides, she couldn’t see them—and neither could Raphael.
How was it he hadn’t sensed them at all when Sebastian said they often watched him? He couldn’t suppress his shiver.
“Send Heath and Sophia after him. From what we know he’s done, he’ll be placed in one of the highest-security clan prohibitums.” Places just the Elders and the lupus dux assigned to them knew the locations for. The more he learned about the workings of werewolf politics, the more Raphael realized everything was shrouded in secrecy.
“I can’t. They’re looking for Vale, who’s disappeared. A faery named Christabel is helping them.” When Raphael offered to send more of the pack with them, Heath had declined. Sophia was offended.
On the other end of the line, Nathaniel muttered a dark curse. “More and more creatures disappearing.” He said something in a language so old, Raphael couldn’t recognize the roots. And he’d lived over five centuries.
“I’m going to send a few soldiers from the Baton Rouge pack—you’re already shorthanded with your Head Soldiers’ absences.”
He had no idea.
“They’re in for a road trip because Senator Murphy isn’t in Baton Rouge.” Smiling, Mary flounced straight onto Raphael’s lap. Damn if he didn’t get hard, instantly. She wiggled slightly. He growled.
“He’s in Shreveport. I got off the phone with his intern a second ago, who was very forthcoming.” Mary turned her grin to Raphael. “In exchange for the information, I had to offer the pack’s protection.”
Both Raphael and Sebastian nodded.
“Then the Shreveport pack it is. I’ll send a few weres from the Morgan City pack as backup.”
After discussing a few more details—like the situation with the warlocks—Raphael hung up, his claws cutting into the case of his phone. Nathaniel and two more Elders were to come here, as would the two closest werewolf packs. They would all stay in Nathaniel’s house in Metairie, from where Raphael suspected he’d kept an eye on the firehouse for centuries.
“He seemed less than surprised about Vale,” Sebastian commented. He tugged the ends of his hair, pulling it even higher than it already lay.
Raphael grunted. If Nathaniel knew more about the matter and didn’t disclose it, he might kill him, Elder or not. The man was definitely a dead man walking if any harm came to Sophia, Heath, Vale, or even Katarina.
Sebastian left after assuring them contractors were already contacted concerning their loft, ragged worry practically radiating from him as he left for his mate. Raphael couldn’t imagine worrying over his own child at a time like this—concern for Mary was enough to wake him at night, cold sweat sticking the sheets to his skin. The composure Sebastian maintained was a miracle.
Someday. His and Mary’s time for children would come.
The word stuck with him, such a huge portion of the hope he gained and fought to keep since the moment he met his wife.
A few hours into his watch, she fell asleep draped over him. He wanted to curl up in bed with her, rather than struggle to toggle between surveillance cameras over her limp arm. But their pack, their family came first.
His gaze sharpened on the street, each entrance to the firehouse and even the sidewalk outside his loft. A vampire, Porter, waved at the camera, and Raphael blinked the outside light in a salute. As often as his and Mary’s homes were shown, he could see Sebastian and Briony’s house in Marigny as well as Aiyanna and Cael’s place in the Irish Channel. Nothing.
Yet.
He’d been lax in security earlier, simply because his home was empty. Raphael wouldn’t make the mistake again.
The next being—human or not—who set out to hurt anyone he cared for would be blown into the next state.
While he didn’t like or trust the Elders, they depended on him and the pack. Whether they wanted the honor or not, they were all that stood between peace and destruction. The status brought more than a few weapons Raphael hadn’t wanted to use. He eyed the locked, insulated closet on the left side of the room.
I’ve changed my mind.
Chapter 15
LEILA awoke with a pressure on her chest that took her breath away. For a minute part of a second, she thought she was having a heart attack. Her eyes flew open, and she saw the real culprit. Beau was sleeping on her, his legs stretching back so far that his feet almost reached her ankles. His big brown head peacefully rested on her shoulder, where his cold, wet nose blew puffs of air into her ear. Luckily for her, she couldn’t hear what was probably a pretty annoying sound.
The pillows between her and where Alex had slept were gone, scattered across the floor. She tried to sit up, but it was difficult with almost one hundred pounds of fur-covered muscle relaxing atop her. With her second, more forceful push, Beau licked her on the nose and bounded off her, landing directly on top of one of her barrier pillows.
Alex was nowhere to be found. He’d left her a written note underneath her phone, which held three messages from Derik. She decided to read those first, since she wasn’t nearly as excited about them as whatever Alex left for her.
Staggered rehearsals today, but extra-late nights for all, he’d written in the group message intended for all the dancers. Be prepared.
The next message listed the specifics. She had ample time to get ready and be at the studio. If she could dig up that one long-sleeved top to cover her arms and hands—
Fittings will be immediately after the conclusion of rehearsals.
Damn. In all the chaos in her life, Leila had forgotten about her fittings. It was careless, because they were always right before performances, allowing their costume designers just enough time to get the costumes perfect before they needed them. Whether she found that top or not, there would be no hiding the redness streaking acr
oss her skin.
Shifting her arms and legs, she realized it wasn’t nearly as painful as it had been last night. Then, it had felt similar to the time she’d been so excited to grab the tray of homemade white chocolate macadamia nut cookies from the oven that she forgot a mitt. It was when she’d brought the treats halfway to the counter when she finally felt that searing burn course through her, shocking her so severely she dropped everything on the kitchen floor.
Yesterday was worse—she’d been forced to drop Alex instead of some stupid cookies.
Unless the material she wore was made from solid sequins, a real possibility depending on the designer’s inspiration, the fitting tonight wouldn’t hurt. Still, she’d probably be reprimanded for not taking care of her skin. Those lights on the stage hid nothing, and the last thing she wanted was for anyone to notice a flaw like her allergic reaction rather than her dancing. She’d worked far too hard for that.
With the luxury of a little time before her rehearsals began, she showered using a liberal amount of all the products Alex had that seemed moisturizing. That done, she allowed the steam to gather in the bathroom as she stretched, using the ledge in the shower as a makeshift barre.
The cream, as well as some of the concoction Briony had made for her, had her feeling even better as she pulled on her clothes, secured her hair and turned on her cochlear implants.
Now she could hear the hum of the air conditioner, but not the high-pitched, almost inaudible sound of burning light bulbs. With her external processor on and functioning, there was no true silence. That only occurred when her hearing was gone completely.
Huh. The lights emitted no sound because they weren’t on. Alex must have opened the drapes, which spilled in more than enough sunlight for her not to notice the lack of electrical light. She flipped a few switches with no changes. Why were all the lights out?
Down the darkened hall, lit by the windows on either end of the corridor, she noticed the same thing. No working lights. As she took the stairs down toward the first floor, she heard voices, the hiss of something frying, and the dripping sound the coffee pot made. Beside her, Beau yipped happily.
She took a piece of bacon, popped in her mouth and placed another handful on a small plate.
“See, she likes my tofurkey bacon!” Briony beamed.
Leila hadn’t noticed a difference between it and real bacon, but from the scowls Cael and Sebastian leveled at her, the feelings weren’t mutual. She shrugged.
“More for me.”
It felt really good to talk again. No one had to turn around to understand her; she’d never really liked how people had to watch to see what she was saying anyway. Everyone heard her. Cael slid the plate toward her, looking repulsed.
“Hey, not everyone’s as picky as you babies.” Aiyanna took a few strips of—whatever tofurkey bacon was—for herself.
“Do you have any furniture polish?” Leila spoke around the slice of peanut butter toast she scarfed down. Not quite full after that and the strange bacon, she took a clean spoon, scooped out the biggest clump of peanut butter she could, and ate it. Better.
It was nice, having the same kind of peanut butter here that her mom had always kept around while she grew up. It was Mary’s favorite as well.
A can of the polish she wanted flew toward her head. She was so distracted by her breakfast, she barely caught what Alex had thrown at her. He stood at the back door, his sapphire eyes heated.
“What do you need that for?” Aiyanna asked curiously.
“It hardens my pointe shoes.” When they got overly soft, her feet became even more damaged than they were. Aiyanna glanced down at her feet, which were luckily covered in socks over her hose. They were covered in a few blisters and hard spots today, having been helped somewhat by Briony’s potion, but she wouldn’t be strutting around a kitchen barefoot anytime soon.
“What’s up with the lights?” It was slightly darker than usual here, with natural light filling the space.
“Ask Alex,” Sebastian grumbled, frowning.
Leila turned to Alex expectantly. He flicked a finger at Sebastian, and a round plant with teeth grew up alongside the orchid from the pot sitting on the counter. The new plant leaned down, bit Sebastian on the arm, and resumed its position lounging next to the purple flower.
“Ouch,” Sebastian complained, glaring.
“Want me to sic Gris-Gris on you?” Briony asked in the same tone one might say, What a fine day this is. Somehow, Leila was confident the witch would send her familiar after Alex if he hurt her mate. She understood the sentiment.
“Tell. Me. About. The. Lights.” It wasn’t as if someone forgot to pay the electric bill because every other electric appliance worked. That, and Sebastian had made them all rich with Full Moon Brewery. Even she had stock in the company worth more than she could ever spend.
Alex reached out to touch her, grimaced, and pulled away. Part of her wanted to say screw it and take his hand, but she couldn’t. She was too close to her performance, and even with the shoe polish, between her healing burns and her feet, she’d already be in enough pain when she came back tonight.
“I told you about a map last night, and how you’re black, rather than a normal blue or powerful yellow. I had to hide you and everyone living here who showed up yellow.”
She remembered him explaining as much yesterday, but had been distracted by the repercussions of her iron allergy to pay him the attention she should have. “Show me.”
With everyone gathered around curiously, he did exactly that. As he used his hand to zoom into the map that showed the firehouse in detail, she could see herself next to him and Aiyanna, who was blue like her mate. Briony and Sebastian were both yellow like Alex. Elsewhere in the house, a blue dot was still next to a yellow dot.
Mary and Raphael must have been sleeping, while Leila looked like a smudge of dirt on a perfectly good map.
“This is what we know is here,” Alex said. “This is what every warlock will see when they look at the map.”
All of the specks at the firehouse were gone as if they didn’t exist.
“I cast a shield to prevent any electrical light, since that’s the form of energy used to power the maps. Without that kind of light, everyone here’s safe from warlock eyes.”
In other words, she’d reappear for the float to see the moment she left the firehouse. Can’t be avoided. She needed to leave in—she checked her phone—ten minutes.
His gaze knowing, Sebastian shook his head at her. “You can’t leave, Leila. With the senator after you, and now the warlocks able to literally track your unique essence on their map, it’s too dangerous. I’m sorry.”
Heat blazed in her cheeks. She struggled to keep her voice calm. How in the hell did Briony do it all the time, especially around these stubborn men?
“My first performance is in two days.” Until eight the night of, there would be all-night rehearsals. “You’re crazier than a shithouse rat if you think I’m missing one second that I’m expected to be there.”
“And you won’t.”
She hadn’t noticed him moving, but Alex stood next to her, leaving a safe distance between them. It made her want to grit her teeth, but since he was being helpful, she managed a tight smile.
“You can’t shield a dance studio, Alex.” Briony spoke kindly, but it was obvious she sided with her mate. If Leila had chosen any other profession, she would have agreed and stayed home, where it was safe.
Briony was right. Without many windows to speak of, the studio wouldn’t function without working lights.
But she was a dancer, and that not only filled her life with music, beauty, and wonder, but it also made her life profoundly difficult at times like this. It also seemed to cause trouble for her family. Selfish as it was, she wouldn’t give up her one shot at professional ballet because one man wanted to gun her and Mary down. Hiding, and giving up such a huge part of her life in the process, was as bad as letting him
win.
That senator would not control or scare her.
“I don’t expect guards, not when I’m knowingly putting myself in so much danger,” she said, keeping her eyes fixated on the empty plate where the bacon had been. “But I’m going to the studio today, and tomorrow I’ll be at the brewery all day for practice before the dress rehearsal. No matter what the float does, no matter how crazy that senator is.”
Sebastian and Briony looked at each other with matching frowns.
“Murphy is worse than we thought,” Sebastian almost pleaded. “He’s a werewolf.”
Okay, she wasn’t expecting that. She didn’t falter, didn’t feel the need to sit down and try to recreate the scattered, broken puzzle her life had become. Everything was constantly shifting and changing, and instead of letting it scare her, she decided to go with it. So the man who wanted to kill her was a werewolf pretending to be human.
She could deal with that. But first, she had a job to do.
Cael and Aiyanna volunteered to accompany her to rehearsal. The firehouse would be well enough protected without them. The vampires were staying, nearby werewolf packs coming, and more than a few werewolves from the Halifax pack were also flying down from Canada. Emmanuel had also stuck around after last night, offering Leila an unreadable smile when he raided the kitchen just as she was leaving.
Alex drove silently while Aiyanna asked about the set design for the ballet, disappointed when Leila told her no, she had no idea what size the windmills were. Probably large and abstract, barely resembling windmills at all was her guess, but she didn’t voice that prediction. Aiyanna might attack Trevor, their usually brilliant, exceedingly creative set designer.
The day went smoothly, hectically and painfully all at the same time. At her lunch break, Leila was too busy sewing ribbons onto her pointe shoes to eat, causing Aiyanna to stuff a wrap straight into her mouth. Leila sputtered, barely catching it before it fell into her lap, and managed to eat a few bites, finish with her shoes, and make it back before the garden scene began again. While she rushed, she glanced at Alex, who was sitting as far away from her as he could.