About Face (Wolf Within) (12 page)

After three tunes he switched to a guitar for some rowdy Irish bar songs, and more people began to sing along, including Paddy and Fee. I knew some of them, but I kept silent, my gaze fixed lustily on the harp.

After an hour of continuous playing, Declan took a break and went to the bar. Alannah drew him a beer and he gulped at it. I slid off my chair and walked over to him, aware Paddy and Fee both watched me.

“You prefer the guitar or the harp?” I leaned my elbows on the bar as he finished off his beer in three long swallows and set the glass down. Alannah whisked it away for a refill.

Declan ruminated for a moment. “Not sure I have a preference.”

“I play the harp.” I knew by the way his eyes lit up I sounded too eager, and I wanted to slow down. But it had been three years, and for some reason tonight, the music had torn a hole inside me that I needed to fill. “Could I play?”

He stretched his mouth into a sardonic grin and took his refill from Alannah before he gulped at it. He looked around the pub for a moment, his blue eyes alert.

“Yes. I reckon everyone’s drunk enough they won’t hear your mistakes. But I will. And I’m gonna point out each one afterward. That’s the price of admission. Too steep, woman?”

Three years was a long time away from the strings. I was bound to make some mistakes, but I didn’t give a shit if the bastard pointed them out to me. What the hell did I care? I’d hear them, too.

“No problem,” I said, and his grin widened into derision. I’m sure he planned to rub my nose in every wrong note.

When he shrugged toward the harp, I needed no further invitation.

My heart trip-hammered as I stepped up onto the small platform stage. A hush spread over the pub when everyone saw me. I had expected an audience, but I hadn’t anticipated the complete quiet. Declan must have gestured for their attention when my back was turned, and not a person in the pub moved or spoke.

I sat still for a moment and let the music steal into my fingers. I didn’t plan on what I would play; I let my fingers choose.

Three years they had been forced into submission. They’d stood idle, and their calluses had disappeared from disuse, my skin smooth and soft where it had once been hard and tough.

Declan had played fast and lively tunes, but I was sad and wistful, so I wasn’t surprised when I heard the first strains of
Carolan’s Farewell to Music
drift into the silence.

I suppose it was risky—maybe even cheeky—to play a tune by the man venerated as the last of the great Irish bards. Declan might believe I did it to impress, but I didn’t do it for that. I did it for my fingers and my soul, denied the music for so long.

The strings were sharp against my soft skin, and I knew I wouldn’t have the stamina to play an hour straight as Declan had, but I could last the four and half minutes it took me to play the one song.

Over the years as I’d become adept with the harp, I’d learned to feel the music beyond the technical composition. This song was one of my favorites, and the way I played it was different than most harpists. I slowed the tempo and added hesitations most did not. The music breathed through my fingers.

The song was committed to muscle memory, so I had no need of sheet music. I didn’t even have to think, just play. My connection to the harp came back in a gratifying rush, and I felt my soul’s music open up. The place where it resided had been squeezed tight ever since Grey and Elena died and my harp had been destroyed.

The emotion that swirled through the pub was not all my own. I’d affected the pack on a metalevel, and when I looked up after the song, they were one and all within my grasp. They existed inside and beside me in the unique way that came with music’s gateway. I’d played at Regionals before, and this was the intoxicating feeling I remembered. Everyone was linked together like we were during group sex before the Great Hunt.

An incredulous smile of joy lit Paddy’s face as he stared at me from the table with Fee. She was very still, her face transported with a bittersweet wistfulness. She understood the music the way I did—I felt that. She knew how it affected me.

Declan Byrne, from his vantage point in front of the stage, shook his head as if to clear it from my influence.

“How many mistakes did you count?” My question broke the spell that bound us all. Our connection shimmered in the air and was gone in an instant.

“Fuck you. Mistakes. I never heard it played quite that way, but there were no mistakes. Where the hell’d you learn to play like that? And me thinking you just took a few lessons in your spare time like a spoiled American brat. You bitch—
Carolan
? You played
Carolan
for
this
crowd? You’re insane, you are, but you got away with it, damn you.” Declan was torn between fury and reluctant admiration. I saw him seesaw on the edge of his temper, but his love of music won out, and he grinned at me.

For a second I sensed the attraction he must have held for Fee. And for his bond mate, Alannah Doyle.

“My mother taught me,” I answered and thought of the years of lessons with Wren. At first I’d tried to play like her, and then she tried to play like me. Eventually she had declared I was so beyond her own skill that she would take lessons from me and not the other way around anymore. “I played professionally for years. It’s how I made money for my pack before I became an Advisor.”

“Her not telling me a word of this, and me thinking she would embarrass the fuck out of herself. I’ve been played, I have. Alannah, get this woman a drink,” Declan bellowed, and the crowd erupted with laughter. A few of them called out for me to play something else. Some asked for specific songs by name, and when I heard one I knew, I played it. My fingers were sore, but I had a few more minutes left before I started to bleed.

* * * *

Protests rang out loudly when I stood up, but my fingers were numb, and I really wanted a drink.

Several people grabbed my arms and helped me down, and I don’t think my feet touched the ground more than twice before I arrived at the bar and slid onto one of the stools.

Paddy materialized beside me and slung an arm around my shoulders.

“Are you sure you’re not Irish, woman?” he demanded and gave me a kiss. His lips were light and teasing against mine, but he wanted more, and I nearly gave in and opened my mouth for his seeking tongue, but cold beer spilled over my hand and startled me, so I pulled away.

“Sorry,” said Alannah with a wink as she mopped up the spill with a bar rag. Paddy gave her a suspicious look, but she just laughed.

“This is what I meant by proving yourself to this pack, woman. You had us all eating out of the palm of your hand. You’ll be a fucking brilliant Alpha,” Paddy whispered into my ear. He swirled his tongue around the lobe and sent a shiver down my spine. “Where’d you learn all those Irish songs, and you not being Irish?”

“Only someone Irish can play an Irish song?” I countered and gave his chest a push so he would stop doing wicked things with his tongue and my ear. “Besides my grandfather’s last name was Callahan, so you tell me if I’m Irish or not.”

“Callahan,” Paddy shouted and those around us all came to attention. “This woman’s a Callahan!”

A roar went up from the crowd, and I rolled my eyes, both embarrassed and shocked.

“A quarter,” I yelled above them all. “At best a quarter. And Grandfather Neil and his family have been in America for decades. I’m not Irish.”

“You’re a Callahan,” insisted Paddy and tried to kiss me again but Declan Byrne shouldered into him and threw him off balance.

“Tell us, Stanzie, what does it feel like to rip out a man’s throat with your wolf’s teeth?” Declan’s voice rang out above the noise of the pub, and there was instant silence.

Paddy muttered something in Irish under his breath, his face suffused with wrath.

He turned to snarl at Declan, but I put a hand on his arm. No one needed to fight my battles for me, fuck that.

I looked straight into Declan Byrne’s vivid blue eyes. “I answered that question for the Councils at my tribunal, Declan, and the only thing you need to know is that I was cleared of all charges. If that’s good enough for the Great Council, surely it’s good enough for you, right?”

“She wasn’t just cleared, you bastard—she was commended.” Paddy couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut, and I resisted the urge to smack the back of his head.

“Was there a tribunal after you killed your former bond mates in that car crash you were telling me about earlier?” Declan asked.

Paddy cursed beneath his breath again, his hands curled into fists.

“I was cleared at that one, too,” I said and Declan snorted.

“How the hell many tribunals have you faced, woman?”

“Just the two so far,” I replied.

“How’d you avoid one after that poor German bastard croaked on you at the Great Hunt in Paris?” Alannah’s face was spiteful as she formed a tag team with her bond mate. He grinned at her.

“They never figured out how he died. It’s hard to hold a tribunal when you haven’t got anything to charge a person with.” I tried not to think about Rudi’s empty eyes but it was impossible.

“So maybe you didn’t kill him, but I’d say you were bad luck, wouldn’t you? Your bond mates died, that German guy died, that American Alpha sure as fuck died, and maybe Liam Murphy doesn’t want to be the next one whose time runs out while he’s standing next to you. Maybe he dumped you instead of the other way around. Can’t say as I blame him. Who wants to try his luck with the Black Widow here?” Declan turned around to speak to the whole crowd, who kept silent.

Guilt kept me silent although I knew I hadn’t killed anybody. If I hadn’t wanted to go out on my birthday, Grey and Elena might still be alive. Nate had deserved his fate, but I still didn’t like to think about my wolf tearing his throat out. Rudi’s murder had nothing to do with me. I’d witnessed it, not caused it, but I still couldn’t shake the way he’d said my name before he died as if he thought I could help him. If only I could have.

Declan did have a point. People died around me. I couldn’t refute it.

“Piss off, Declan Byrne, you bastard. Leave off the woman. You’re just jealous she plays the way you know you never will because you lack the fucking soul to pull it off. Black hair, black heart, that’s you.” The red-haired giant stood just inside the pub door, his meaty fists clenched. The crowd parted a little so he could get through quickly if he wanted. They seemed eager to see a fight.

“You offering to bond with her? You check that with Deirdre? It’s not every woman who’d want to make a triad with a murderess.” Declan Byrne’s expression turned arrogant, and he clenched his fists, too. If there was a fight, my money would be on the giant, no contest.

“It wasn’t murder, you arrogant prick. You don’t get commendations from the Great Council for acts of murder. I’m sure as hell not listening to any more of your shite, Byrne. Now shut it, or come out back with me. Which will it be?”

“Looks like you’ve got at least one fucking idiot willing to risk his luck and bond with you, Stanzie, good for you. But Colm is hardly worth your while if you ask me.”

“Lucky for me I didn’t ask you,” I snarled. “The day I need a bond mate broker, Declan Byrne, I’ll be sure to knock on your door, but until then why don’t you go screw yourself.”

“Ooh, I struck a nerve.” Declan’s grin was irritating as all hell. The grin turned bloody when Paddy popped him one in the mouth with his fist.

With a furious roar, Declan Byrne threw a punch back, and the fight was on. They crashed into the table behind them, and Fee barely got out of the way in time.

I dove toward her and dragged her to the side before she got hurt.

“Why don’t you all just fucking stand there and watch your Alpha get trampled, damn you,” I shouted at all the idiots around us who just stood there with their heads up their asses. One and all, they were riveted on the fight, but at least a few could have helped Fee.

Of course, as soon as I yelled, several of them helped me pull Fee in back of the bar, although I didn’t like all the glass around. I wanted to go into the kitchen, but Fee fought that too hard.

“If either one of them comes across this bar, you hit the floor, understand?” I yelled in Fee’s ear above the roar of the crowd. I couldn’t see over their fat heads, but Paddy or Declan must have landed a good one by their response.

“Move your asses so I can see!” Fiona bellowed and tried to heave herself on top of the damn bar for a better vantage point.

“Shit,” I shouted as I struggled with her. “Stay off the bar, Fiona Carmichael, you fucking idiot. You’re pregnant, remember?”

“Yeah, like I can ever forget. You fucking get up there then and tell me what the hell’s going on. They’re fighting over you in the first place,” Fiona shouted back. Somewhere in the melee her silver barrette had fallen out and her hair was all over her face. She pushed it back irritably and shoved me at the bar.

“Don’t you dare stand on my bar, you bloody cow.” Alannah Doyle threatened me with a bottle of Jameson’s. It was only half full, but it still would have hurt. I didn’t want to get on the damn bar in the first place, but the hell some redheaded bitch would tell me what to do. Especially when she called me a cow.

I boosted myself up onto the bar and ignored her scream of rage. She took a mean swing at me with the bottle and Fiona snatched it away.

“Back the fuck off now,” Fiona yelled, and Alannah snarled at us both before she flounced to the other end of the bar.

Declan Byrne was a dirty fighter. He’d picked up a shard of broken glass and slashed Paddy’s arm with it. The first thing I saw when I stood up on the bar was the blood all over the floor and Paddy. The edge of the glass was bright red, too.

Declan Byrne’s lips were drawn back in a snarl of fury, but Paddy was laughing, even though I’m sure his arm hurt like a bitch.

“You never could fight without a weapon to hide behind,” he sneered and ducked when Declan lunged at him. The glass sliced a thin line across his cheek, and more blood spattered onto the floor.

They circled each other warily, and I clenched my fists in rage. I willed Paddy to pick up a piece of glass and make the fight even, but he didn’t. He danced back out of range and continued to laugh.