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She laughed but didn’t say anything else.
“You’re a Bennett.”
“I don’t know that I appreciate the derision in your voice. It’s a nice name. One I’m proud of despite everything.”
“Joe is your son. Which makes him a Bennett.”
“Yes. That’s usually how it works.”
“Which means Kelly is a Bennett.”
“It’s good to know your talent for stating the obvious remains remarkably intact,” she said dryly.
I stood quickly, the blanket falling to the floor.
She didn’t flinch as she looked back up at me. She wasn’t scared. If anything, she was curious.
“What do you want with me?”
“Ah. I want many things with you, Robbie. But we’ll get to that in time. You’re under a sort of thrall. Or so I’m told. You do stink of magic. It’s almost unbearable.”
I took a step toward her.
She remained still.
“You want to kill my Alpha.”
She said, “Michelle Hughes.”
I nodded.
“Then yes. I do.”
I snarled at her.
She shrugged. “I’m not sorry about that. Alpha Hughes has taken something that doesn’t belong to her. Many somethings, in fact.”
I rushed toward her.
The silver line burned. “Ow, ow, motherfucker!” I hopped back, looking down at my toes as they blackened before beginning to heal. “That hurt!”
“I should think so,” she said. “You’re a wolf. It’s silver. It’s supposed to hurt.”
I glared at her. “You said I wasn’t going to be harmed!”
“Yes. I did. But I can do nothing when you do it to yourself. You always were a little eager.”
“Lady, I don’t know who the fuck you are, and I don’t know who the fuck you think I am—”
“You’re Robbie Fontaine,” she said. “Born January 21, 1991. You’re twenty-nine years old. Your father was a hunter. Your mother was a lovely woman. She died protecting you. In fact, her last act was to ensure your survival.”
“Oh, so you can read a file. I’m sure you’ve got all that shit on me—”
“You hate Brussels sprouts,” she said, and I gaped at her. “You think they stink. Same with pickles, though you do like cucumbers because of the way they crunch in your teeth, especially when you’ve shifted. You like to read. Weirdly, and endearingly, you have an affinity for romance novels from the eighties. You’re computer smart and a little real-world stupid, though it comes from your desire to see the good in everything and everyone. You like trees. You can spend hours lying underneath one, just staring up at the sky through the leaves.” She blinked rapidly against the sheen in her eyes, but she never looked away from me. “You’re a good man. A lovely man. And I’ve missed you so.”
“What is happening?” I asked hoarsely.
“Something that should have happened a long time ago. And I’m sorry that it didn’t. We were… we were confused. Angry. At what, I don’t think we knew. Not exactly. But….” She sighed. “I can’t promise you it’s going to be easy. I fear the days ahead will provide us with more questions than answers. And with all that we have to face, I don’t know if we have the time.”
