| |
BRIAN
––––––––
OKAY, I’D TRY ONCE more.
“Miss Chatwin, it’s Khalid Nouri. If you happen to hear this message before midnight, or perhaps the one I left on your cell phone earlier, please phone me back. If not, tomorrow morning will be fine.”
I slammed the receiver down. Where was that girl? I had to talk to her about her report and proposal. They were thoroughly and professionally done, but since my knowledge was a bit outdated, my plan was to ask Miss Chatwin to explain the parts I had trouble understanding. I’d already left one message on her cell phone that afternoon, and had phoned a few more times only to get her voicemail. Now I’d tried her home number, with no more success.
I stretched my leg and groaned. I’d been sitting behind my desk in the same position for hours and it hurt like hell. I limped to the window and braced my hands on the sill.
Why was I angry? Because my young architect was spending her night in somebody else’s bed, while I hadn’t touched a woman for twenty-six years?
I smiled bitterly. Yeah, I was sexually frustrated, no arguing with that. My accumulated sexual energy was manageable in my wolf shape since I could always make myself exhausted by running. In my human form, it had become a curse. With my testosterone level in overdrive, I was as horny as a sixteen-year-old boy, with nothing more than the teenage-appropriate methods to release the tension.
For somebody trapped in a wolf body, copulating with a blaidd benywaidd was a way to deal with overloads of lust. If I’d wanted, I could’ve found a mating partner, a woman who’d occasionally change shape and mate with me. It wasn’t a common practice; we couldn’t procreate in animal form, so there wasn’t much biological reason for mating. We change forms for two major reasons: to fight or to burn out the excess of energy and aggression.
Having a blaidd benywaidd for a mate, however, would also assume accepting the human aspects of the relationship, no matter how superficial. Feelings. Talks. Explanations. Mess, in short. I wasn’t remotely ready to deal with that.
I still loved my wife. I couldn’t imagine making love to any other woman, in either form. I knew I’d lost her forever. She was James’s bond mate now. She loved him more than she’d ever loved me. Only death could break a werewolf bond, and I didn’t plan to kill James Mohegan. He might be my wife’s husband, but he’d been one of my two best friends and one of the greatest men I’d ever known.
But could I order myself to stop loving her? I couldn’t and I wouldn’t.
Eve and James hadn’t even bonded until twenty-something years into their marriage. This didn’t make their bond less strong, though. The irony of the fact that I’d seen Eve and James for the first time after my “death” on the day they had bonded wasn’t lost on me. The same day Seth had been killed and Copper Ridge liberated.
The day that had ended a long nightmare that had affected so many lives, including mine.
Yet another nightmare, this time only mine, had begun.
––––––––
“GOD SAVE ME FROM BEING bonded! Ever!”
I wanted to smash something to ease my frustration. Damn bonds and damn ex-wives and damn the best friends married to them!
I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Elizabeth Chatwin’s number again.
I wanted to talk to her, to keep my mind occupied with something other than the throbbing pain in my leg and even worse ache in my heart.
She still wasn’t answering the fucking phone!
I’d fire her. Right away. I didn’t need a key person for the project that I couldn’t reach.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. One-two-three-four. Held it, counting to seven. Released it counting to eight. Repeated the whole cycle three times. Ahmed had taught me this simple relaxation technique. I used it with variable results.
It helped this time.
God, I’d never sworn before, I thought, feeling calmness spreading inside my body and mind. I’d seldom raised my voice before, and now I yelled and snapped all the time. I’d always looked for the best in anything and anyone before I’d become dark, bitter and grumpy.
I’d been an even-tempered man and now I had to do fucking breathing exercises to calm myself down.
Maybe the breathing exercise hadn’t helped after all.
Hell, it had to stop. I knew I’d changed, but the old Brian Canagan hadn’t died. I would have to dig deep and find him, but find him I would.
I stood, grabbed the cane leaning against the side of the desk.
Oh, how I hated this cane. It symbolized all my weaknesses. Once I didn’t need it anymore, I’d chop it into smithereens and then burn them.
I paced the room until the muscles in my bad leg relaxed enough for me to continue my slow stroll without the cane.
Now I had to kill the few last and most difficult hours before I changed.
I’d planned to do that by discussing the Baker Block project with Elizabeth Chatwin, but of course she had more important things to do. What was that important?
I stopped myself. What the hell was wrong with me? It wasn’t a life-or-death situation.
I’d read, I decided, scanning the shelves. I had a specific title in mind, and it wasn’t here.
I cursed under my breath and limped to the library. I spotted it right away—Alexander Dumas’s The Count of Monte Cristo. Not the greatest novel ever written, but one of my favorites nonetheless. I’d read it countless times. I pulled it from the shelf and dragged myself back to my room. I lit a fire in the fireplace and, with a sigh of relief, more mental than physical, slumped into an armchair beside it.
Dumas’s familiar characters welcomed me as old friends, and soon I was immersed in a different, better world.
Until the familiar tickling under my skin reminded me it was time to shift.
––––––––
I SHIFTED BACK JUST before dawn. Feeling good, feeling strong, feeling brave, I didn’t go home but stopped by the barn.
Here, I saddled Blizzard, my Arabian, and mounted him.
In the blink of an eye, I was transformed. I was Brian Canagan again, a warrior, a leader. I was free.
For a brief moment, life was good again.
I rode for more than an hour, brought Blizzard back, groomed and fed him and poured him fresh water.
Back home, I took a long shower. Then I made myself tea, set the coffee maker to make a fresh pot of coffee later, for the others, and went to my study. My gait was almost normal, and my leg almost didn’t hurt.
From the tall study window, I watched the sunrise, enjoying the last few quiet moments before my recently expanded household woke up.
Lily had brought a new, welcomed dynamic to our quiet routine. She was smart, fun and down to earth. It came as a relief that Lily knew my true identity. I was tired of lying to people. Soon everybody in Red Cliffs and Copper Ridge would know who I was anyway. I’d stay Khalid Nouri only for Rosenthal and my architect.
If I ever got a hold of her, that is.
And we had a visitor. Zana, Azem’s eight-year-old niece, had arrived yesterday from Winston to spend a week with us. The heating system in her school had broken down and had to be replaced, so the kids got a bonus break. She missed her uncle, and Azem missed her.
My peace and quiet had gone, but then, I wasn’t desperate for peace and quiet anymore. Something had shifted in the last few days.
––––––––
I HEARD A KNOCK ON the door. “Come in.”
“Morning, Brian. I have some papers here you need to sign,” Azem said, all business. “Did you talk to Elizabeth Chatwin?”
I walked back to my desk. Slowly, but without the help of the cane. “No. I left a couple of messages. Haven’t heard back from her yet. I read her report, though. She seems competent. The Baker Block will be her project if she still wants to work on it.” Or if I don’t fire her before that. “We can do a great deal before I become the nominal owner.” I heard another knock. “We’ll talk about it later. Come on in.”
Lily opened the door, pushing a trolley piled with computer equipment. “Good morning, Mr. Canagan. I’d like to hook up these babies. Now, if you would move a bit, please, I need to go behind the desk.”
She looked up at Azem as if she hadn’t noticed him before. “Good morning, Azem,” she said and nodded.
“Morning, Lily.”
She turned back to me. “We’ll move the desk away from the window. There’s too much light here; you won’t be able to see what’s on the screen.”
“Do whatever you think will work best, Lily,” I said.
As Azem helped her with the desk—out of courtesy, of course, for Lily was almost as strong as we were—I said to him, “It would be useful to know how much Urban Imprint is ready to spend on the Baker Block and the Cosmopolitan Hotel.”
Lily peeked out from under the table. “I can find that out.”
“And I’ll be happy to be your lawyer when they arrest you, Lily, but I have to warn you, criminal law isn’t my field of expertise,” Azem said and turned to me. “Brian, don’t let her do that.”
I’d never put anybody at unnecessary risk, let alone a young girl. “It’s okay, Lily. We’ll know in time. I’m sure we can top them.”
Lily rolled her eyes. “I can have a peek into Urban Imprint’s records to figure out their real market value and solvency—”
“Define ‘have a peek’, Lily,” Azem said.
She continued talking to me, ignoring Azem. “I’ll start from public records, see what I can find in their financial statements, check the money flow, you know, how much money went in and how much came out, do some simple math, talk to some people, and that’s it.”
“Hm. And this is all legal?”
“It is, Mr. Canagan, don’t worry. These are public records. Well, more or less. It’s only that not everybody knows how to do such a search. It’s amazing how much you can find if you only know where to look.”
Azem looked at me and shook his head.
“Go ahead, Lily. If you say it’s all right, then I trust you.”
Lily smiled at me. “Thank you, Mr. Canagan. Now, are you ready for our first lesson?”
––––––––
FOR THE REST OF THE morning, Lily introduced me to different computer programs and applications. She was an excellent teacher. I soon realized it wasn’t necessary to know how computers worked in order to use them. After that, everything seemed much easier.
We had a quick lunch break and continued with our lessons until dinner.
Between instructions, we talked about Red Cliffs and people we both knew well. At one point she mentioned James.
“Einhamir James was a great leader,” she said. “He was open and honest. People would do anything for him, follow him anywhere.”
“James never expected to be a leader,” I said. “Never wanted it. Still, he did a remarkable job.”
“He used to say that reluctant leaders are often the best ones because they aren’t driven by power and ambition. Nobody in Red Cliffs ever thought James wanted to become einhamir after you, er, died. He did it because of his son, I mean his stepson ... your son. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Lily. I know Jack and James are like father and son. I’m glad.”
“Okay, then. Mom says there was lots of confusion and negative energy in Red Cliffs after you and Mr. Mohegan were gone. Many thought we should go to war with Copper Ridge. James and Jack had more reason than anyone to start a conflict. James knew it would cost Red Cliffs more lives. That’s why he became einhamir, to stop any further destruction.”
I’d come to a similar conclusion long ago.
My son had refused to take my place even though Red Cliffs wanted him. He was capable, brave, popular. But Red Cliffs expected him to go to war with Seth. He’d be obligated to avenge my death. He wouldn’t have a choice. He’d made a brave decision—he stepped back.
James, on the other hand, hadn’t been under the same pressure. I never doubted, not for a second, that he wanted to avenge his brother’s death and mine, as much as Jack, but he knew Red Cliffs would lose its people. So, he also made a bold move—he stepped in. He knew he could avoid the conflict.
The High Council had voted. To go to war or to let Seth get away with the kidnapping and two murders?
It’d been a tie.
The Red Cliffs clan was divided into an even number of houses—twelve—and because of that, there had occasionally been small “institutional crises” if the voting was a tie. It had never been a big deal: six captains—the heads of houses—would, for example, vote for fixing the roads, and the other six for a new hotel. In turbulent times, however, it could be a serious problem.
Fortunately, now there was a thirteenth vote, Ellida Astrid’s, which eliminated such situations. Moreover, as an ellida, she had the power to override any council decision if she found it questionable.
In the second round, it’d been seven to five against the war. The three women captains, Lily’s mother among them, had managed to secure the voices of the two most indecisive captains for James and his anti-war block. They proposed James as my successor.
“Einhamir James stepped down when Einhamir Jack was ready to take over, as he promised,” Lily said.
Yeah, that sounded pretty much like my honorable friend.
Lily smiled and switched back to her teaching mode. “Now, Mr. Canagan, let me show you how to use Excel. It’s very useful for keeping all sorts of data.”
––––––––
AROUND DINNER TIME, Lily decided I’d had enough tutoring for the day and started tidying up the desk. “If you feel okay later, Mr. Canagan, I would like you to go through this.” She pointed at an icon on the screen marked HW. “Answer the questions and send it back to me. The instructions are inside.”
I looked at her in disbelief, suppressing laughter. “Lily, did you just give me homework to do?”
“It’s more like a review. Off I go, now. Have a nice evening, Mr. Canagan.”
“Aren’t you joining us for dinner?”
“I’m going to town. When I come back, I’ll start checking the Urban Imprint financials. I should have some information by tomorrow morning.”
“Are you going with Azem?”
She turned. “Of course not. I’m going to Rowena and Ahmed’s. They invited me to dinner.”
“I see. Azem mentioned earlier he was going to town tonight so I thought—”
“He’s taking Zana to a sleepover with her friend and then—”
“She already made a friend here?” I said. “But she came just yesterday!”
“Her best friend moved here last year,” Lily said. “Azem will drop off Zana, and then he’s going out with Lani Blackwell. I don’t know if you know her. I mean, if you’ve heard of her.”
I had. Lani Blackwell was a nurse, who worked at the Copper Ridge Hospital. She was also my son’s ex-girlfriend. She’d married after she and Jack had broken up. A year or so ago, her husband had beaten her up so severely that she almost died. To save her life, Livia Blake had done something extremely rare: she’d turned her into one of her own kind—a Tel-Urugh. Later, Astrid granted Lani permission to settle on our territory to stay close to the Blakes, the only other Tel-Urughs she knew. I’d caught a glimpse of her once or twice. She was indeed a beautiful woman, although serious and on guard.
“They’re not dating, are they?” I asked.
Lily frowned. “No. He says they are friends.”
“They probably are, Lily. Rowena says Lani hasn’t been interested in dating at all,” I said and smiled to myself. For such a solitary and private person, I was quite up to date about the town’s gossip. The perks of befriending Rowena.
“It didn’t stop half of Red Cliffs’ and Copper Ridge’s male population from falling in love with her. Why did she come here in the first place? She’s a Tel-Urugh. They’re not as social as we are.”
“Liv and Tristan are Tel-Urughs, but they live here now. They seem to like our social dynamic just fine. Lani needs the Blakes’ help and support. It’s a huge adjustment for her.”
Lily sighed. “I know. I don’t mind her, really. She seems like a nice person. It’s just that no woman should be that beautiful. Plus, she’s smart, and she doesn’t give a damn about all that attention she’s getting. That only makes her even more attractive to them.”
The last word had come along with a vague movement of her hand toward the door. It meant “Azem included.” She blushed and started packing her stuff—cables, wires, an extra screen, screwdrivers and tons of paper—and put everything back on the trolley.
So, I was right. The subtle tension between Lily and Azem wasn’t just my imagination.
She either verbally challenged him or she ignored him. They knew each other from before. Was she in love with him? He wasn’t indifferent to her, either. Where was the problem, then?
I contemplated asking Lily but changed my mind. We weren’t close enough for this kind of question.
I walked her to the door. “It’s gonna be okay, Lily, you’ll see. As you said, Lani’s pretty, smart and young. One day she’ll fall in love and everything will be fine.”
“I hope you’re right, Mr. Canagan. I want my part of fine.”
Me too, Lily, I thought. Me too.
––––––––
I SPENT THE REST OF the evening in the company of my computer. (Yes, I had done my homework.) I was fascinated like a child in a toy store. I’d surfed the internet, listened to music, opened a whole bunch of accounts, including one with the local library, then downloaded a book. I read my biography once more to familiarize myself with the details.
Harriet came in with a cup of tea and placed it on my desk. I thanked her with a smile.
When she left, I stood to stretch my muscles. I’d been sitting for hours, and my back was stiff.
My leg hurt less than usual for this time of the night. Slowly, I walked to the window and stared into the night, more content than I’d been in a long time. It’d started snowing.
Behind me, an antique wall clock counted time in soft tick-tocks. A pool of light from the floor lamp wrapped the room in soft semi-darkness.
I closed my eyes and let the memories in.
Our house, Eve’s and mine, across in Red Cliffs. The soft tick-tocking of a grandfather clock. The scent of lavender, lemon peel and a burning log. The pressure of her back against my chest. The smell of her hair, like violets, the silkiness of the skin of her temple. My arms around her belly, the kicks of the tiny feet under my palm.
The room is in semi-darkness. We stand beside the window and for a while just watch the lazy swirling of snowfall in the air.
“I love you, Brian ...”
––––––––
THE PAIN THAT SEARED from my thigh down was so strong that my knee buckled. I grabbed the sill to support myself.
I took a few sharp intakes of air and limped back to the desk.
Damned clock. Damned memories. You never knew what would trigger them.
I sank into the chair and rested my head on the back.
I had to let it go. For my sake, for Eve’s, for James’s. I had to set myself free.
I didn’t know how long I sat in the dark room. Ten minutes, an hour, a small eternity. It’d been over long ago, I kept thinking. When they brought Eve the remains of what she believed was my body. When I heard she’d married James.
I was tired of being unhappy. Eve had carried on with her life, so I must, too. She was James’s bond mate; sooner or later it would’ve broken our marriage. And if she was his, then it was possible that some other—
Beneath all my despair, my pain, my anger, a new feeling had caught a spark. I didn’t know exactly where it had come from. Perhaps from the prospect of doing something so mundane as renovating that small heritage city block, perhaps from my morning horseback ride. Or from a strange solace in the fact that I had already lived through the worst—I’d almost died, I’d lost my wife, I’d left my clan when they needed me the most.
Maybe it was time for a simple, ordinary life.
My cell phone went off, startling me.
I glanced toward the wall clock. Seven-fifty.
I hoped it was Miss Chatwin.