Page 6 of The Wolf Queen’s Curse

“And endangering your Pack in the process? Not a good way to begin your reign.”

Bishop cranks the haughty self-importance up another notch. “My wolves wouldn’t respect me if I surrendered my mate so easily. How I fight for her is a reflection of how I will fight for them. The honor and dignity of the Pack is at stake.”

“And that suits you,” the wolf says. “Because you don’t want to give her up. Even to save your Pack.”

“Cordelia already offered to go with her grandmother, so do not come barking about how much Beryl wants her back.”

“Beryl thought she could have it both ways—exterminate the Pack and then scoop her granddaughter from the ashes. You thwarted her, and she realizes how easily Cordelia could have died in the melee. Beryl has retreated to regroup, and I’ve come to offer you a solution.”

“I’ve already—”

“Hear me out. You don’t need to give her back yet. It’s too soon to capitulate. Keep the girl. Enjoy the girl.” A wolfish grin. “I’d even suggest getting her with child. Once that’s done, declare yourself tired of her. She’s a handful. I can see that in the way she’s seething at being excluded from this conversation. Negotiate for her return and then find yourself a more docile mate. Meanwhile, you’ve kept a tie to the Levine Cabal, in the form of a child. Hopefully a son.”

“I don’t foresee myself tiring of Cordelia anytime soon. She is, as you say, ‘a handful,’ but there’s fun to be had in breaking a filly. You’ll note that she came with me willingly last night.” He glances over and smiles as I feign scowling. “And while she is, as you say, seething right now, she’s not arguing. She likes where she is. With me.”

A low chuckle. “I noticed. You’re right that there’s fun in breaking a filly. But once you’ve had your fun…” He shrugs. “Use her and then use her in another way. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Not that I would ever surrender her,” Bishop says. “But if I considered it…”

The wolf lifts his head. “Yes?”

“Tell me about this cabal. I don’t know much of them.”

“Because they don’t bother with the British Isles. There are greener pastures elsewhere, in places where supernaturals are grateful for the opportunity a cabal can provide.”

“Give me more specifically on the Levines. If they aren’t in Britain, then I don’t see how much good a connection to them would do me.”

The wolf jumps for the bait … and starts to talk.

THREE

From the wolf—Lynch, as he gives his name—Bishop extracts as much information about the Levine Cabal as he can: where they’re located, how many supernaturals they have, and so on. It’ll all need to be verified, but it’s a start.

“All right,” Bishop says afterward. “One final question. Who sent you?”

“I came on my own.”

“Solidarity with your fellow wolves?” Bishop shakes his head, looking more himself, less haughty, more incisive. “Try again.”

“I’m hoping for a reward, of course.” Lynch lifts a hand. “Not an invitation to your Pack. While I intend no insult, Pack life isn’t for me. I know you have money. I need payment, as I may need to lie low after this. Beryl wouldn’t like me talking to you. And when Beryl doesn’t like something, her employees tend to lose something. Their job. Their reputation. Their skin.”

“So you want money. How much?”

“Five hundred pounds. Half for the information I just provided. Half for arranging a meeting to discuss the handover.”

That’s several years’ wages for the average workingman.

Bishop doesn’t react to the amount. “Is the meeting to negotiate handing over Cordelia? Or to actually hand her over?”

Lynch pauses as he sees the trap being laid. Because he’s supposed to see it.

“You would relinquish her at the meeting,” he says. “After you’ve made contact to say you’ve tired of her.”

Bishop’s lips purse. “What if I gave you two hundred and fifty pounds now and the rest after a meeting with your contact? I’d like to speak to them. Then I’ll turn Cordelia over later, and you won’t have to wait for the full payment.”

Lynch tries to hide his discomfort behind a grin. “I see what you’re doing, boy.”

“I’m not a boy.”