By the time evening came around, John was beginning to feel a distinct and predictable anxiety about having so many people around. Growing up, he’d spent vast amounts of time alone and had had little opportunity to learn how to relate to people. While there was a part of him that was still desperate to hang out with other wolves, with other people who were like him, there was also a part of him that just found the whole thing too overwhelming.
Until recently, he would have found Baron, snarled at him that he was going to bed and then gone to read a book in their room until Baron showed up, falling asleep within the warm cocoon of his lover’s arms.
But tonight there would be no one coming quietly into the room after he’d gone to bed, no one cuddling up beside him, no murmured words to chase away the loneliness, and so while openly engaging with the foreign shifters all trying to awkwardly mingle was a task too strenuous for his already strained nerves, he was reluctant to call it a night just yet. If he went to bed too early, he’d just wake up again at three in the morning and lie there with all manner of grim thoughts running through his head.
A lot of the people wandering about the driveway and lawn weren’t the least bit interesting. This manor lacked the obvious patio that sat at the back of Misty Hills, so the area set up on the driveway for people to talk and drink and eat dessert had been thrown together in a way that looked a bit like someone had just opened a box of party supplies and tossed it in the air, letting the pieces fall where they may. Why was Il Trosa even going to the effort to suck up to their visitors, anyway? The Panel were all Grey Watch, and no matter how much they wanted peace, John hardly thought they were going to take a dump on one of their own packs in order to achieve it. And if the Council had bought this estate so the Den could move here, then what was the fuss about anyway? All they needed to do was figure out if it was Sempre or Genna who had really contacted the Noturatii, kill the one responsible, and move the Den to Scotland.
John sighed, shifted into wolf form and slunk around the edge of the gathering, keeping to the shadows under a bush. The scent of a foreign wolf told him that one of the assassins had been in this exact spot earlier today, though there was no trace of the woman now, but he was pleased to think he’d just chosen the same sly observation point as one of the Council’s elite.
A moment later, he spotted the one person he was actually interested in seeing this evening, and a faint wag of his tail showed his satisfaction. Andre was standing with a glass of wine in his hand, though John knew from an hour or so of watching him that he hadn’t actually drunk any of it.
Andre had always been a bit of a conundrum for John. He was a skilful fighter and a ruthless killer, and John had no doubt that Andre would be able to beat him in a fight, which immediately earned him a large dose of respect. But at the same time, the man often did things that were completely baffling. He was a better fighter than Baron, but when he’d joined the Den, he’d deliberately lost not just one, but three status fights, so that he was now ranked below Silas. He stood back and let Baron and Caroline plan battles, when he had more experience and could have put a better plan together in half the time.
John was quite convinced that Andre was smart enough that he wasn’t just making stupid mistakes. Everything he did must have a plan, a strategy, a reason of some sort behind it. But so far, John had had a hard time working out what those reasons were. Andre was superior, in both fighting skills and experience, to almost everyone else in the Den, and yet he willingly pulled himself into line and followed the rules.
Just then, Miller crossed John’s line of sight, blocking out his view of Andre. By Sirius, he hated that Noturatii dog, and he still harboured fantasies of ripping his throat out. He realised that a low growl had risen in his throat and quickly silenced it, ashamed of himself. He had a long way to go if he was going to learn to be like Andre. If an assassin had been hiding in the bushes and watching a target, he would never have allowed himself to get distracted like that and potentially give away his position.
Did that have something to do with following the rules, John wondered suddenly? Did Andre have better concentration because he was used to doing what other people told him to? Because he paid attention to the details and followed the right procedures? Since moving out of Baron’s room, John had started doing his own laundry, but even though Heron had told him repeatedly to separate the dark clothes from the light ones, he’d ignored the warning and thrown them all in together, and now his white t-shirt with the dragon on it was a very faint blue instead.
Miller didn’t seem to be enjoying the party, and John watched as he wandered off to the side of the driveway, then a bit further, into the trees. There was no one else around, and John began to salivate at the thought of sneaking up behind him, wrapping his teeth around the man’s neck and biting down hard until he heard a satisfying crunch.
Killing a member of the pack was against the rules, as he well knew, but as far as he was concerned, Miller had no right to be claiming a place in this pack anyway.
Realising he’d stood up and taken a slow, stealthy step towards his target, John abruptly sat down again. He wanted to kill Miller… but what if he was to deliberately follow this one rule, he wondered? So far, he hadn’t harmed the man for sheer lack of opportunity. Not that he went around all day trying to corner him, but if he’d run across him alone out in the forest he might well have taken the chance while he had it.
But what if, here, now, with Miller standing right in front of him, he chose not to kill him? What if he chose to follow the rules for once, particularly this most aggravating rule that he wanted to break more than all the others? Andre followed the rules, and he was a far superior wolf to John.
It was worth trying the idea out, John decided, deliberately turning away from Miller and going back to watching Andre. And if he decided the rule wasn’t worth following after all, he could always kill Miller another day.
Kajus stood at the edge of the driveway, watching as a group of the Panel members and their advisors talked about the events and discoveries of the day. As far as he was concerned, this whole ‘party’, if you could call it that, was a farce. There was obvious tension between Il Trosa and Sempre’s pack, and while he had little idea how the two got along ordinarily, it was clear that tonight, they wanted nothing to do with each other.
The three Councillors were making an effort to get to know those of the Panel, though they were making rather a dog’s breakfast of it. Being entrenched in the human world, they were making use of their best manners, meaningless small talk and elegant politeness that was lost on most of those from the Watch. He hadn’t seen any of the three shift even once that day and had to wonder when they spent any time in wolf form, if they were so busy trying to play the role of human aristocrats.
But to be fair, the Watch members had hardly done any better. Putting a large group of wild wolves together was a recipe for disaster, and he’d already witnessed more than one squabble turn violent as the strangers jostled for dominance and territory. The Panel needed to take a leaf from the Council’s book, he decided, as humans were far better at making new acquaintances than wolves were. But at the same time, the Council needed to realise that people who lived in isolated forests and drank from cold streams were not going to give a shit what sort of wine they were served, or what sort of glass it came in.
After an hour or so of awkward mingling, a group of the Watch had broken off together and were now not so much having a conversation as all randomly sharing their opinions, with no real, discernible thread to the discussion.
“I have serious doubts about Sempre already,” Rita said, the translator from Greece. Luke had apparently been abandoned for the moment, and Kajus wasn’t sure how that boded for the pair’s relationship throughout the rest of the talks. “She said Genna had only the barest control of her abilities, but she was really quite spectacular during the demonstration.”
“She’s a weak pup,” someone else declared. “Genna, I mean. Particle mages in the past have been able to make whole forests disappear. She can hardly move a teapot.”
“That’s rubbish. They had more power than Genna, yes, but no one ever moved so much as a whole tree, never mind a forest.”
“Nonetheless, I don’t trust Sempre. If she’s lied about Genna, who knows what else she’s going to lie about.”
“We haven’t even heard the full story yet. From either of them.” Galina was speaking, a Russian alpha who gave the impression of being very even-tempered. “You can’t write off her whole personality based on one event.”
“Sempre’s the alpha of the pack,” said the male alpha from France – one of the few Grey Watch packs that actually had a male alpha. “She has far more reason to lie than Genna.”
“We can’t be making decisions before we’ve even started the trial!”
“Eleanor’s ego is a little out of control, don’t you think?”
“But she’s the leader not just of one pack, but of the whole of Il Trosa.”
“That’s why it’s better that the Watch doesn’t have a government. Too damned human, aside from anything else. Wild wolves would never obey the orders of a pack who lived a thousand miles away.” That was Oana, from Romania, speaking through her translator. So far she’d managed to disagree with everything anyone had said, and after only one afternoon, Kajus was already getting sick of her.
“I thought the Council were all equal. Eleanor’s not in charge of them all, is she?”
“It’s an interesting collection of people we have here,” Linnea said from beside Kajus, having arrived quietly in the last few moments. “It’s good to see you still run.”
Kajus turned his head to look at her for a moment, before facing the crowd again. “I heard you suffered an attack from the Noturatii last spring.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Linnea put a hand to her chest, high on the left side where, according to the rumours, she now bore a vicious and jagged scar. “I survived,” she said simply. “Which is more than can be said for the three Noturatii.”
“You should come and visit us one day,” Kajus said next. “It’s been too long.”
Linnea’s smile was hollow. “I doubt your alpha would share your enthusiasm for guests. Particularly from our part of the world.”
Kajus made a non-committal sound, then said, “Well, perhaps Sophija has lasted too long, as well.”
“And yet she saw fit to send you here?”
“More to get rid of me for a while, rather than because she thought I would be of any use. According to what I’ve heard of Sempre, she and Sophija are much alike.”
They both fell silent for a moment, then Linnea asked, “What’s your take on this so far?”
Kajus laughed. “We haven’t even begun the talks yet, and you’re already trying to get me to take sides? I’ve been watching this for the last half an hour,” he said, nodding to the group of Panel members. “Everyone has an opinion, though no one has any real information yet.”
“Let me ask a different question, then. What did you think of Genna’s display this afternoon?”
Now that was a far better question. “Perhaps we should find somewhere more private to talk?” he suggested lightly, knowing Linnea too well to not see where she was going with this. She nodded, and without a word, they both shifted, retreating further into the gardens.
“Where would you like this put?” Genna asked George as she arrived in the kitchen with an empty dessert tray. Since she’d begun living with this Den, she’d got to know a few of its members a little better and had taken an instant liking to George. He was a quiet man, spending a large amount of his time in the kitchen, but she’d learned that once you got him talking, he was fascinating to listen to, with dozens of stories about things he’d done with his wife in his younger years.
“Just by the sink will do,” he said cheerfully. “I’ll put them all in the dishwasher once this load has finished.”
Genna did just that, then carefully washed her hands and looked around for something else to do. It wasn’t just her desire to help George that was keeping her skulking about in the kitchen. The atmosphere outside had been decidedly awkward, with a significant part of the tension centred around Genna herself, and any excuse to avoid the throng of people for a while was welcome.
There was nothing else to do for the moment, though, so she was about to head reluctantly back outside when the door opened. Luna pulled up short as she stepped into the kitchen, surprised to see Genna standing there. She glanced from her to George. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not getting in the way, am I? I just wanted a glass of water.” She held up her empty glass awkwardly.
“Not at all,” George said, on his way out the door. “I’m just gathering up the plates and trays at the moment. There’s only a little bit of cleaning up left.” He disappeared out the door, and Genna moved to follow him, sure that Luna wouldn’t want to get stuck with her.
“How are you?” Luna blurted out, as soon as George was gone. She darted forward to grab Genna in a rough hug. “Are you all right? Are they treating you okay?”
Genna flinched back at the unexpected embrace, baffled for a moment by Luna’s sudden concern. “I’m fine,” she said shortly. “Why do you care, anyway?” Since they’d arrived in Scotland, not a single one of her old pack had come to talk to her, or asked how she was, or even said hello. After they’d heard about the Treaty, she was fairly sure they all hated her anyway. Even if they believed that Sempre and Lita had done the organising, she couldn’t deny her role in the illegal meeting.
“I’m so sorry,” Luna said, letting her go. “Sempre’s forbidden all of us from speaking to you. She said you’ve betrayed our pack and that you’re trying to defect to Il Trosa. Anyone caught associating with you will be punished.”
The news was no surprise, nor was the fact that until now, no one had dared break the rule. “Then what are you doing here?” Genna asked, as Luna ducked over to the door and looked out into the hallway, then quietly closed it. Her furtive behaviour was nothing new. It was a constant guessing game where Luna was concerned, whether she was going to offer an encouraging word and a morsel of food, or cosy up to Sempre and curry favour with the senior wolves. “Don’t you hate me for breaking the Treaty? And running away, and killing Feriur?”
“I was rather shocked about the Treaty part of it,” Luna admitted quickly, glancing over at the door again, then lowering her voice. “But you running away… I’m only surprised you didn’t do it sooner. We all saw the way Sempre was treating you. I’m sorry we didn’t stop her, but none of us knew how to help without inviting the same punishment on ourselves.” Genna was starting to feel a little better. She knew all too well how the pack worked, that everyone was terrified of Sempre, and it was heartening to think that people had wanted to visit her, but just hadn’t been able to find an occasion to sneak away. “And killing Feriur… I can’t really say I’m sorry about that one. She had less power than Lita, but her temperament was just as bad.”
“I only did it out of self defence,” Genna said, the one part of her tangled story that remained steadfastly true. “She was trying to strangle me.”
“That’s what Eleanor told us. And for what it’s worth, I believe you.”
She did? Perhaps Genna had been wrong. Perhaps everyone wasn’t set against her after all…
But then Luna went on. “Did Sempre really order you to meet with the Noturatii?” she asked, eyes wide, hands gripping her glass like she was trying to crush the thing. And that’s when her devious charade came crashing down.
“What are you playing at?” Genna asked sharply, taking a sudden step back. “You didn’t come here to see if I was okay. You came to dig for information.”
Luna looked affronted. “That’s not true! With all the things Sempre has done in the past, it’s not hard to believe she’d break the Treaty as well. I just thought-”
“You’re as two-faced as they come,” Genna snarled. “You give out gifts with one hand and stab us in the back with the other. Well, don’t bother trying to play innocent with me. Until you can decide whose side you’re on, I’m done with you.”
Luna said nothing, her face suddenly pale, and an odd determination settled in her eyes. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” she said quietly, hastily going to the sink and filling her glass. Keeping up appearances for when she went back outside? But why, if she’d broken Sempre’s rule just to try and trap Genna anyway? “It wasn’t my intention. I’ll leave you alone.” She opened the door, then turned back just before she left. “I truly admire you, Genna. Your courage is something that all of us could learn from. May Sirius guide you.” And then she was gone.