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Chapter 11
WHEN I RETURNED TO THE OFFICE, ASCANIO OPENED the door and hit me with a thousand-watt smile. The smile evaporated with his next breath.
"I smell blood."
"It's nothing. Where is everybody?"
"The wolf and Andrea haven't come back yet."
"There is a bound man in the back of my Jeep. I need you to carry him in and lock him in the loup cage. Don't untie him. If he comes to, don't speak with him. He's a powerful mage and he'll try to conjure painful things."
Ascanio took off. I walked to my desk. A neat stack of files sat in its center, each beige folder marked with the Pack's paw. Next to them waited a binder filled with papers. I opened it.
Article Seven, Section A. Clan Land and Property. All real property, as defined by Article 3, Section 1.0, is jointly owned by the Pack, with rights of survivorship. Each Pack member has a right to use and enjoy the entire property, but may not prevent another Pack member from also doing so. The real property subject to a lease between a Clan and the Pack must be for the Clan's official meeting house, exclusively. Any nonconforming use is a breach of the lease agreement and will function as the immediate revocation of a Clan's lease. Any personal property located on real property leased by a Clan shall be deemed the sole property of the Clan ...
What the hell?
Ascanio maneuvered the volhv's body through the door, carrying him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and brandished the volhv's staff at me. "What should I do with the stick?"
"Lock it in the closet. And be careful; when magic is up, it bites."
Ascanio nodded and took the volhv to the loup cage. I pondered the phone. Sooner or later, I'd have to call the volhvs and tell them that I had their boy hog-tied in my back room. Best-case scenario, they would trade Adam Kamen for him. Worst-case scenario, we all die agonizing deaths. Hmmm. Whom to call and what to say?
Ascanio came back. "What happened to him? He looks like he got his ass run over by a car."
He was run over by my fist. "What are these files?"
"Barabas left them for you. He said to tell you that the Beast Lord is gone on an important errand." Yes, hunting Leslie before she did any major damage.
"And that you will be handling the petitions tonight."
Full stop.
There were two things I hated: being on display and making decisions about other people's lives. Hearing petitions involved both. When a shapeshifter had a problem with someone within the Pack, it went up the chain to the alpha couple, who acted as arbitrators. If two different Packs were involved, two sets of alphas had to come to a decision. If a decision couldn't be reached, the matter went to Curran and, because I was his mate, also to me.
My original plan was to avoid the petitions altogether. Unfortunately, Curran had explained to me at great length and in a lot of detail how this was one of the burdens of the alpha and how he was disinclined to suffer it by himself. Which was why once a week, I ended up sitting next to His Majesty behind a very large desk in a very large room, providing a convenient eye target for the audience of shapeshifters. Up to now all I'd had to do was look like I was paying attention and hope that Curran didn't have to cut any babies in half. Dealing with petitions by myself was not on my agenda. I didn't even know which cases were scheduled for the hearing or what they were about.
I tapped the binder. "Those are petitions, what is this?"
"Barabas said that they're essentially CliffsNotes from the Pack's code of law relevant to the hearing."
I swore.
"Barabas said you might say that. I'm supposed to tell you this." Ascanio cleared his throat and produced a remarkably accurate impression of Barabas's tenor. "Courage, Your Majesty."
"I will kill him."
"The Beast Lord or Barabas?"
"Both." I rubbed my face and glanced at the clock on the wall. Ten past four. The petitions were scheduled at eight, and it would take me an hour to get from here to the Keep, which meant I had a grand total of three hours to cram this stuff into my head. Argh. I so didn't want to do this. The volhv would have to wait until I sorted this out. Well, he wasn't made out of ice cream; it wasn't like he'd melt.
"Any messages from the Keep?"
"No, Consort."
"Don't call me Consort. Call me Kate." No news of Julie. Damn it, how long did it take one kid to walk a hundred miles? If Curran's trackers didn't report in by tomorrow evening, I'd go and look for her myself. Rene and her world-ending gadget would just have to wait.
I gathered the files and the binder. "I'm going upstairs. I don't care who comes to the door, unless there is blood or fire, I'm not to be disturbed."
Ascanio clicked his heels together and snapped a crisp salute. "Yes, Consort!"
Some days I understood why Curran roared.
READING THROUGH PETITIONS MADE MY BRAIN hurt. I knocked the first two out in an hour, and then I hit a property dispute between the two clans and got stuck. Sorting out who was who and what belonged to whom was like untangling a Gordian knot. If I shook my head and bits and pieces of the Pack's Law fell out of my hair, I wouldn't be surprised. I would carefully sweep them up and put them back in Barabas's binder, but I wouldn't be surprised.
It didn't help that my memory kept replaying the conversation with Evdokia. Do you think your lion didn't consider who you were before he swept you off your feet?
What she had told me about Voron and my mother hurt. For the first fifteen years of my life I had trusted Voron completely, without any reservation. If I was in trouble, he would drag me out of it. If he made me endure something, it was necessary for my survival. I didn't have a mother, but I had a father. He was a god of my childhood. He could do anything, he could fix anything, he could kill anyone, and he loved me because I was his daughter. Because that was what fathers did.
It was a lie. A betrayal so deep, it cracked something vital inside me and now I was full of rage. I wasn't his daughter. I was a tool to be used. If I broke in the final battle, no big loss, as long as I did the damage.
It hurt. Seeing it now with adult eyes hurt. I needed to scream, to punch and kick and hit something until my pain went away. If I sat still and really let myself think about it, I would lose it. But whatever had happened between my mother and Voron happened in the past. I'd wrestle with it and then I'd get over it. I couldn't change it; it was done.
Curran and I were happening now.
When I was seventeen, with Voron dead for two years and Greg acting as my guardian, I met a guy. Derin was a few years older, handsome, funny. I wasn't exactly in love, but I was in something. For my first time, it could've been worse. The morning after, I walked out of his apartment and walked right into Greg waiting for me on the street. I'd thought there would be screaming. Voron had a lot of patience, but he'd screamed on occasion. I should've known better. Greg never screamed. He just explained things in a logical, unhurried manner until he made you scream instead.
