He has to bring this to me now, to feel his own weak sense of responsibility when I can’t do as he asks. I’m saved from having to humiliate my father when Ethpeal interjects herself, pushing him back and away from me.
“And why,” she asks in a cold and terrible voice, “are you here if Oleksander is in such danger?” We all wait for a response, but he simply stares at me, mute and anguished. She turns her back on him when he doesn’t answer. “Charlotte,” she says, tone low, bitter chill gone from her words, “what do you want us to do?”
Part of me wants to plead “why me?” when she looks at me like that. But before I can allow that shred of fear to rise, I feel the wereprincess I am wake to the occasion. Maybe if my father hadn’t come, I would have allowed the scrap of weakness life. But no, I am Oleksander’s granddaughter, no matter my father’s flaws, and I will not allow Caine to hurt my people further. “Raoul Moreau,” I snap, though he does not deserve the name, nor has he ever upheld his own father’s honor. “You will return to Ukraine, to the true king’s side, and you will protect him with your life until I come for him.” Zoe’s voice echoes in my head even as I argue with myself. I have to go home. I can’t trust this to my worthless father.
But I can’t go.
He shakes his head, panic on his face. “I am a disgrace,” he says, glancing at Sage a moment with a wince of recognition, before turning back to me. I can only guess Raoul is judging Sage, or is that guilt? But does my father understand what Sage has become? It doesn’t matter right now. “I cannot go back.”
My hand lashes out, claws extended as the wolf in me reacts. She strikes him across the face, blood spilling over his skin, running to drip from his beard onto his rumpled jacket. I watch the cuts seal even as he turns his head from me. Shame, so much shame, and old anger. This is my father, but I am embarrassed to know him, to call him so. I am a Moreau, but he isn’t any longer.
“It is well Mother died when she did,” I say, my wolf growling behind my voice. “She would have perished from humiliation had she lived to see what you’ve become.”
Raoul, for I will call him Father no more, lifts his head and meets my eyes. A spark of rage lives on in him. Good, let it bubble, let the resentment and bitterness give him a spine if he won’t grow his own. Too many years serving the Dumonts have made him weak and fearful, I see it now. I clung to my mother’s teachings all those years, but he remembered nothing of who he was. How often did he fail me when Andre and his sons used me for sport? Perhaps I’m being unkind, since neither of us had any choices then. But the explosive fury I feel bursts like a rupture in my gut, hate, bitterness and old rage waking though I never knew it existed.
My father was a victim then, but I refused to allow myself to be one. And he might have failed me, himself, all of the werenation, but I won’t let him fail again. If I can push him to act in anger, maybe there is hope he will do as I say.
“You are a Moreau,” I say, though my wolf sniffs at that title, knowing he doesn’t deserve to carry the name. “And your father needs you. Now, bury your fear, coward, and do your damned duty. For once, put others ahead of your miserable self-preservation.”
He growls at me, face altering, elongating as his wolf emerges. I meet him with my own, my muzzle feeling hot on my human face.
Raoul backs down, but finally nods. Have I woken his pride or merely hurt him enough he knows I’m his master? The answer doesn’t matter, but I almost wish I knew if I could rely on him for the right reasons. “I obey your order, Your Highness,” he says. “What would you have me do?”
Can’t he think for himself? I will not let pity ruin this moment, or softness give him relief. Raoul is a broken man, shattered by years of torment, as much as the Dumonts tried to break me. I have no idea what was done to him, the scope of his own torture. And yet, here I stand, powerful despite the best Andre could dish out. What is the difference between Raoul and I that he failed so long ago and I remained strong?
“Break our king out of prison,” I say. “Raise an army of sympathetic weres if you must, but rescue Oleksander before Caine can harm him.”
“It would go better with you at my side.” He licks his lips, face returned to normal, as has mine.
“I can’t come with you.” Nor do I have time to explain the Oracle’s orders, or contemplate the sick worry she might be wrong. I’m trusting her as I only trust Syd. Why is that? I can’t say for certain, though the burning fire we shared in the back of the stolen SUV still seethes inside me and tells me this choice is the right one, no matter my fears. “You must do this alone, Raoul.” I reach out and squeeze his shoulder, anger seeping away. I must reach him on a more emotional level, appeal to his pride and loyalties, whatever remains of them. I think of what Shenka said in the back yard, the word that triggered my own agreement to relent. And though perhaps it’s a terrible thing to manipulate the werewolf who fathered me, I will not allow my guilt to hold me back. “For our family’s honor.”
His eyes flicker to Sage, anger returning. “Your people are more important than some revenant.”
This time when I hit him, I don’t restrain my anger. Raoul spins sideways as he crashes into the stairs, groaning softly, collapsing under the pressure of my magic. I cross to stand over him, hands fisted at my sides as my wolf howls inside me and my need to crush him almost does the same to me.
“Listen to me,” I snarl, “because I will only say this once. You will obey or I will kill you myself.” He doesn’t comment, doesn’t try to shield himself from further blows, just lies there. “I am about to turn werelaw into history, rewrite everything we know about our people. This is bigger than Oleksander, bigger than you. Than me. This is our race I’m fighting for.” For the first time, I know I speak truth. This isn’t some selfish need to save the man I love. This is for the entire werenation. And I won’t let them down ever again.
Raoul pulls himself to his feet, nods. “Understood, Your Highness.” He pauses. “I’ll do my best.”
“You won’t be doing it alone.” Ethpeal comes forward, tugging on Demetrius’s hand, though when his look of surprise fades, she doesn’t have to encourage him. “We’re coming with you.”
Raoul looks like he wants to protest, but I allow him to feel my power again. “They will be of invaluable assistance,” I say. “Listen to their counsel and rescue my grandfather.”
Ethpeal hugs me quickly as Raoul turns and heads up the stairs. We’ll make sure he’s okay, she sends. I promise you.
Thank you. I hug her back, relief awake and alive. I don’t have to go home. I trust Syd’s grandmother and her husband, if not my own father. If anyone can save Oleksander, it’s them.
I stand at the bottom of the stairs, listening to them exit the back door, feel the pull of sorcery as one or both of the married pair open a tunnel to Ukraine. I turn back to the others as my father leaves with Ethpeal and Demetrius, ready to apologize for my behavior, only to gasp as Shenka runs forward and embraces me.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “But I know your grandfather will be okay.”
I nod to her, try to smile. “I have to believe it.” And if Zoe Helios proves to be wrong, if her little foretelling means the death of my grandfather or the detriment of my people, I will hunt her down and make her pay for her deception. Later. For now, I will trust the bit of magic she left with me and hope the trauma she spoke of doesn’t mean the death of someone I love.
Quaid stirs, glances at the stairs. “I hate to break up the party,” he says. “But the longer you stay here, the more dangerous this is.”
I nod quickly. “You’re right.” I take Sage’s hand, loving the feeling of his skin on mine. “Though maybe some real clothes might be a better choice for meeting Erica the first time?”
Shenka is so adorable when she blushes, turning to the cardboard boxes behind her while Sassafras’s tail swishes.
“Vanity,” he sniffs. “I highly doubt she’ll care what he’s wearing when she has the pair of you arrested.”
“You think it’s a bad idea?” I crouch to face the silver Persian.
“I didn’t say that,” he grumbles. “But I know Erica better than most of you. And she’s not exactly the perfect person for her particular job.” His amber eyes seem old to me, wise, though he still speaks with the voice of a demon boy. “Just be careful. And have an exit strategy.”
I nod, stroking his fur, as Shenka crosses and hands Sage some clothes. “Always,” I say. “Want to come along for the ride?”
He snorts. “Finally, someone realizes my value. But no.” He swishes his tail again. “I’m needed here. You can take care of yourself.”
Sassafras’s job has always been to watch over the children and I respect him for his choice. “Then stop interfering,” I say, swatting his tail.
He bares his teeth at me. “So much for respect.” He head-butts my hand. “Please,” he whispers. “Be careful.”
I stand as he runs up the stairs and leaves us behind, the door whispering closed as he pushes his way through. I turn to find Sage sorting through some jeans while Shenka turns her back, hugging herself and grinning. I wink at her before nodding to Quaid.
He nods back, looking relieved, though I know it’s just the kids he worries about, and if push came to shove, Quaid would never let anyone hurt us. “Time to get you two to Harvard.”
Someone pounds on the kitchen door the moment he’s done speaking.
Someone with Enforcer magic and an unwillingness to take no for an answer.
***