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‘A stir?’
‘There was a public gathering of a good few of them. Very unusual – they’re usually more subtle than that. The gargoyles put in a formal complaint.’
I frowned. Lord Wokeshire had a mansion that was a little older than ours; he definitely had space to entertain, so that made me think the gathering wasn’t Clan Wokeshire. But if the gathering wasn’t the Wokeshire clan, their rivals weren’t being very discreet about it. Were they challenging him?
‘I mention it,’ Steve continued, ‘because it was at the park just around the corner from your land.’
I blew out a breath. Wonderful. Prowling vampyrs right on my damn border. Exactly what I needed. ‘Great.’
‘I’m sure it’s nothing.’ His tone didn’t match his words. ‘The pathologist came up trumps, though. It’s been a quiet week, so he got to Mr Oates straight away. The only thing that stands out, besides the silver poisoning, was that he’d been drugged by a potion. A highly regulated one. It’s an agent that confuses the recipient, makes it easier to question them, and it makes it harder for them to co-ordinate their limbs so they’re less likely to pose a threat. I’m told it’s quite unnerving. The Connection has been known to use it to subdue violent prisoners during transport. No sign of a hypodermic needle puncture, so it was likely to have been imbibed willingly.’
‘You think he trusted his drugger?’ It made me think of Cassie and the man she’d been draped over tonight.
‘That, or his food or drink was spiked without his knowledge. Anyway, that’s all I’ve got. How are things your end? Anything new to report on Mark Oates?’
‘He was an asshole,’ I reported flatly.
He snorted. ‘That was the consensus. I haven’t spoken to a single person that liked the guy.’
‘He was an asshole that took part in black tourneys,’ I expanded.
Steve let out a low whistle. ‘Now that’s not in any of the information I’ve got on him, so he must have kept it off the radar. The Connection always comes down hard when they find a tourney, but they’re too well organised and it’s too easy to change the location at the drop of a hat. We’ve had a team of inspectors digging into black tourneys for years with very limited results. A couple of raids here and there, but we’ve never managed to snag anyone important.’
‘I’ll dig into it and let you know what I find.’
‘Tread very carefully, Lucy,’ Steve warned. ‘The guy that runs these things is known as Ghost, partly because he’s damn hard to find but also because that’s all that’s left of his enemies.’
I snorted. ‘Sure, but when you’ve been raised on Thanos and Magneto, Ghost seems a bit tame.’
He paused and when he spoke his tone was incredulous. ‘Lucy – the difference is that Ghost isreal, not make believe.’
‘Potato-tomato.’
‘That’s not how that saying goes.’ He sounded exasperated.
‘Why does everyone think I can’t handle myself?’
‘Because you’re a skinny, privileged little white girl who was an accountant until a few weeks ago?’ He had a point.
‘I’m a werewolf now,’ I protested. ‘An alpha werewolf. I’m totally tough.’ Well, Esme is.
‘Uh-huh. Just take back up, keep me in the loop – and don’t do anything stupid.’
I hung up without giving any assurances. Jess has always had an aversion to lying and my long association with her had made me less quick to fib.
I appreciated Steve’s candour but I was a bit bummed out that everyone seemed ready to write me off. I’d ripped off James’s man parts; I’d parlayed with the dryads. I felt like I was doing a pretty good job. I wished that everyone else – hell,someoneelse – agreed.
I decided that ice cream might help. Manners had said that Mrs Dawes had Phish Food and that was exactly what a pity party called for. I went through the pack’s communal lounge and down the dormitory corridor. As I walked past Mark’s room I contemplated doing another search, but the red tape was still up and my need for ice cream was strong.
The kitchen was empty. I headed straight for the chest freezer and rooted around for a solid minute, muttering to myself and swearing a little. I really needed Ben and Jerry’s; if Manners had eaten the last tub, I was totally kicking his ass.
I lifted some peas out of the way and did a happy dance as I spied what I needed. It was cookie dough, which isn’t my favourite, but it would do in a pinch. The tub was brand new and unopened. I grinned and dug out a fork. It’s so much easier to dig into frozen ice cream with a fork than a spoon, and I don’t care how many people find that weird.
The kitchen was a little chilly and it was pack space, so I decided to take my treasure and head back to my bedroom to indulge in private. If no one saw me, no one would ask why I was eating ice cream with a fork. And I wouldn’t need to share.
Why are you so excited about this small carton?Esme asked curiously.
Just you wait. This is better than fresh deer,I promised. I felt her doubt.Honestly, you’re going to love it.
