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Well, shit.
‘Does Maxwell have an ETA on the council’s arrival?’
She shook her head. ‘Soon, was all he’s heard.’
‘Great. How am I supposed to host an entire freaking council without any notice?’ I grumped.
Amber rolled her eyes. ‘Not the whole council, Lucy, just a representative.’
‘Sent to investigate Lord Samuel’s death, I presume?’
‘That, and your turning. I understand that it was … irregular. It’s a rubber-stamping exercise – they should be out of your hair in a day or two. Without Lord Samuel here to testify about your turning there are no other witnesses, are there?’
‘No,’ I lied. My turning had been irregular. Werewolves are largely born, and turning someone into a werewolf is generally a big no-no. Turned werewolves often have difficulties in adapting to a new way of life, and they don’t often survive. The exception is that you’re allowed totryto turn someone who is dying of natural causes.
I was dying of magical causes because of James, so I hadn’t qualified for a turn. My best friend Jess had stabbed me; at that point, blood loss became the overriding cause of my imminent death and Lord Samuel was able to turn me. It was pure sophistry, but technically no rules were broken – except he hadn’t had time to ask the council’s permission. So maybe there was a little rule-breaking, but it’s better to ask for forgiveness rather than permission, right? Jess was there when I was turned, but it was better for everyone if we kept her out of it.
‘Irregular is one way of putting it,’ I agreed. I liked Amber, but even she didn’t need to know that Jess had used the magical artefact known as Glimmerin my turning. I suspect it was the dagger’s involvement that has made me a different breed of wolf. For one thing, I have the ability to pipe – to talk to animals. Think Dr Doolittle but with fewer songs. It is because of my piping that I can speak to Esme. I’m not sure why I can turn super-fast, but suffice to say I’m different.
I changed the subject. ‘How much do I owe you for healing my ex?’
‘I’ll send an invoice,’ Amber said brusquely. I hoped she’d give me mate’s rates. She stood, gave Manners and me a nod and swept out of the room. I guessed the chit-chat was done.
As she left, Mrs Dawes popped in with a massive plate of barbeque ribs and fries. ‘You’ll need to eat after that change,’ she said in her usual calm fashion. She deposited the laden plate on the table and left.
Manners and I were left alone. I dug into the ribs and gestured for him to help himself. He grabbed a couple but left me most of the food. He hadn’t changed, so he wasn’t combatting the ravenous hunger that was sweeping through me.
Greg Manners had become indispensable to me during these last few weeks. He was also a newly turned wolf and, like me, he’d been stabbed by Glimmer. I wondered if his change was as fast as mine. He’d been a strong human before the turn and so far, even when he’d needed to resort to brute strength, he’d just used his human form. He was tall, bulky and muscle bound, with cropped blond hair. He always had an air about him that suggested he was ready for action.
After he’d left the military, Manners had re-joined the mysterious brethren and taken up a position as part of the Prime Elite’s personal security team. The brethren are the dragon-shifters’ human counterparts who help look after the immortal beings and keep them grounded in modern life. From what Manners had told me, dragons are largely resistant to accepting new technology – with the notable exception of Emory, the Prime Elite.
I liked Emory; he was dating Jess and making her deliriously happy, so what was not to like? Being a good friend, I was ninety-five percent happy for her and only five percent jealous that she seemed to have found the love of her life at the age of twenty-five. I’d only managed to find the killer of mine. Still, the whole mess had led me here. I was grateful for that, and for having Manners. I trusted him with my life.
He’s a good pack mate,Esme agreed. Now that she had wrought violence, I could see that she was content. In our mind’s eye she turned three times, settled down comfortably and started to groom our fur, which was sticky with blood. The change had removed the blood from my body but not, it seemed, from our fur. I wondered whether it was representative of my feelings of guilt. However, I calmed as Esme settled down to the task of cleaning and soothing us.
I sighed and slumped back into one of the sofas. ‘Just what we need,’ I muttered. ‘A visit from the council when half of my wolves hate me.’
‘More than half,’ Manners interjected helpfully.
I glared at him. ‘Yes, thank you for that. I’ll win them over. Mrs Dawes likes me.’
‘She does, and I think Archie does too, despite himself.’
I ran my hands through my long blonde hair and sighed again. Poor Archie. I didn’t blame him for his antagonism – he was barely eighteen and I’d killed his father. Regardless of pack law, I would have struggled with that too.
But Mark and Tristan actively hated me, and Liam still followed whatever Mark did. Brian seemed hostile, but with an edge of indifference. That was probably as good as it would get, and I could work with it.
Seren glared at me constantly, sending me dark gazes from her eyelinered eyes. She dressed as a goth and her attitude matched her dark clothes; she loathed me and she wanted me to know it. I’d seen her and Mark cosied up together in the lounge and I suspected a romance was in the works, despite their sizeable age gap.
Marissa was more subtle in her hatred. She smiled and simpered then she burnt my toast and made me cups of tea with curdled milk. She was passive-aggressive, queen of constant small rebellions that she could claim were accidents or mistakes, eyes wide with a breathless apology. I’d suffered worse. People loved me, and the pack were going to love me; they just didn’t know it yet.
‘Any bright ideas on how to win them over?’ I asked Manners.
He thought about it carefully, then said, ‘I don’t know. The pack dynamic is very different to how the brethren operates. The brethren members are born and raised together, but it is made up of small family units. The pack is one big group. Yes, there are factions, but so far it seems to be very much them versus us. Mark and Tristan are your most vocal detractors. From what scuttle I heard before they noticed me, they’re trying to push Archie into a bid to become alpha.’
I bit my lip. I liked Archie, and I hoped he didn’t find himself aligning against me. If he wanted to be alpha he’d have to kill me. He was only eighteen, but he was ranked twelfth in the whole pack; that meant he was a strong fighter, strong enough to form part of the illustrious thirteen.
Not that long ago, Esme and I had battled together with Lord Samuel against a rival pack. The numbers against us had been overwhelming, but Esme got stuck in without flinching. We’d killed and maimed other wolves with relative ease – we just seemed a little faster, a little stronger, and a helluva lot more determined. I wasn’t sure where we’d rank within this pack if a tourney was held, but I knew we could hold our own. I didn’t want to kill Archie, but I would if I had to in order to survive. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
