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“Luna—”
Marcella raised both brows. “That wasn’t a suggestion. That was anorder. If she was so dangerous we had to monitor her, we’d have let her die. She’s sovaluablethat we’ve gone this far to save her. You aren’t her jailer or her warden. You’re herprotector.”
Named Successor
Itucked myself against the wall on the bedroom floor, next to the huge floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the front lawn. The view was beautiful from here. Looking out a big window and seeing mountains and trees instead of a grimy building and gray, greasy New York morning counted for something.
The big window faced north-east-ish, and had a great view of the elaborate front lawn landscaping, the drive up to the house, the view down the hillside and the little town miles in the distance. If it had faced the other way, I would have found myself constantly searching the view for glimpses of Sterling. I already found myself lingering in the backyard, hoping the wind would blow a whiff of his scent my way.
Searle had gone to his job of managing the feed mill fifteen miles away in town, and the house was mostly empty, with everyone having headed off to do their usual routine.Mynew routine meant I needed to be down in the basement archives, as well as getting in some physical therapy, doing some laundry, changing the sheets, and generally tidying up.
Best to keep busy. No objection to keeping busy. Attacking the floors with a mop made my mind blank, and nobody complained about me taking over the chore chart. The hardwood floorsgleamed, and the polishing had doubled as physical therapy. Nobody had come to yell at me aboutdamnit, Summer, I wanted to mop the third floor bathroom!
I rubbed the edge of the old journal page under my thumb, flipping the corner back and forth. Squished between the pages, deep in the spine of the journal, was the tear-stained index card that hadn’t spilled out when Searle had taken the journals and sprinkled them all around the second-floor hallway.
Glacier Slope Bank
Box #0393
Fairbanks
You are named successor. Tell no one.
And taped to it was that damned key
To get to FairbanksbeforeJuly, I was going to have to tell someone. Especially since me going to Fairbanks at all was going to bedangerous. I needed to get in and get out without anyone knowing. It was the ass-end of winter though, which meant Alaska would still be (relatively speaking) hunkered down in the cold. But Fairbanks was crawling with werewolves of various packs, and while it was neutral territory, there was probably a Mortcombe Exception.
The thing working in my favor would be getting in and out in a matter of hours. The wolves who would be in Fairbanks wouldn’t have the ability to quickly get word to the various seats of power, if they even recognized me walking down the street at all.
So did I put my trust in Marcella, or did I let this box go unopened? Mom had thought well of Marcella, but I had no idea how well they’d known each other, or what Mom actually thought of her besides Mom hadn’t hated her.
I thumbed the key. “I’m going to have to trust someone, Mom. You didn’t see this part of things.”
MaryAnne needed me down in the office sorting mail, but Marcella was home that day. Henri and Sarah were organizing the details of the Equinox party. I also had to get to Marcella before the pups got home, because Marcella prioritized her offspring over pack business unless said pack business was actively on fire and rolling uphill towards the house.
I took the key card and the card Mom had written to me, and went in pursuit of Marcella.
Marcella wasin the small gym separate from the main house, a beautiful glass and wood structure that allowed sunlight to pour in (or light to pour out) and gave a spectacular view of the hillside and valley below. On a late winter noon with snow coating everything, and the piercing blue sky, it was like a pleasant little wolf aquarium.
She was alone, and pulled out her earbuds and wiped her hand across her forehead as I entered. “What is it, Summer?”
The name prodded me in the spine. “Do you really have to call me that in private, Luna?”
“Yes. Itisyour name. Make peace with it.”
“It’s not my name unless Sterling dies in July.”
“It is best not to think of him.”
“That’s impossible. The next eighteen weeks are an act. I understood performing for the pack, but not for everyone who alreadyknows. This is like being in one of those old medieval villages where everyone pretends the real world doesn’t exist.”
Marcella pocketed her earbuds. “That is exactly what’s happening. This is where you are practiced and comfortable with the routines and motions of your name, your new life, your new mate. This is so when the worst happens in July, you can still go through the motions. The entire pack is in danger and is relying on you to know your lines.”
The cruelty tapped my spine like silver hammers. “You’re counting on me not to snap or crack.”
A half-smile, cruel and wry at the same time. “Silver didn’t break you. Nothing will.”
That sounded like a threat.
