About Face (Wolf Within) (29 page)

Celine took a leisurely sip of her wine and grimaced as if it tasted bitter. “Or you, Glenn. An open slot on the Great Council could mean elevation of your status. You’ve been on the Regional Council for several years and would be in line for consideration.”

“I think if Jason’s slot opened, someone from an American Regional Council would be selected.” Glenn continued to fork lamb into his mouth as if he and Celine were having a trivial dinner conversation.

“True, but if someone more sympathetic to your version of the cause were to ascend, all the better, no? You have the motive, Glenn. So do you, Etain. Why don’t you make it easy on us all and confess now. We can judge you at this same tribunal.”

“Any number of Councilors could have gotten to Declan Byrne and Mick Shaughnessy,” said Glenn Murphy. “England, Wales, Scotland, anyone there could have pulled their strings.”

“Ah, but proximity makes it more likely it was one of you two. We shall hopefully find out during the tribunal.

“And now, Constance,” Celine turned her gaze back to me. “Now do you understand why this must be kept from Mac Tire? From the Great Pack? What do you think would happen if they could no longer trust their Councils? We are supposed to be above reproach. We are the upholders of our laws, and we administer justice. Do you really suppose our Pack would be better off to know the truth? That there are traitors in our ranks who betray everyone in the mad attempt to hold back the future?

“I think not. And, now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a headache, and would like to go to bed.” She rose to her feet and left the dining room.

Save for the sound of cutlery on china, silence reigned at the table.

Chapter 17

After dinner, Jason picked up his glass of Irish Mist and gestured for me to do the same. I followed him out onto a large, sloping terrace just outside the dining room. We sat on a stone bench overlooking the gray lake and sipped our liquor without speaking.

Sunset was nearly over, and dusk enveloped the trees and castle in shadow.

“Do you believe whether or not the Pack reveals itself should be decided solely by the Councils?” I asked. The Irish Mist was sweet on my tongue, but my thoughts were dark and heavy.

“I do,” he answered. “Stanzie, a decision as monumental as this was precisely the reason the Councils were established. We are the guardians of the Great Pack and administrators of justice. This debate has been ongoing for nearly a decade now.”

Surprise must have shown in my expression because he smiled wistfully.

“These decisions aren’t made lightly or hastily. It’s taken this much time for it to pick up serious momentum. At first the idea of announcing ourselves to Others was barely tolerated, but it’s gained support in the past several years. Enough to alarm me.”

“Ryan said you’re the leader of the Guardians. The founder.”

He nodded. “I am. But if I’d told you that nine months ago, you would never have become my Advisor.”

“Why is it so important that I am?”

“Because you’ll be Alpha of Mac Tire someday, and after that you’ll be on the Regional Council. And someday I have every expectation that you will join the Great Council. Possibly to replace me.”

“Me?” I scoffed. “Not Murphy?”

“I think he’ll go far too, but you’re the one I’m watching.”

A cold shiver drifted down my spine. His confidence was daunting. What did he see in me that I couldn’t see?

“So I’m supposed to fight the ones who want to reveal us? Be a good little foot soldier until I’m promoted to general?”

“The members of Pack First aren’t our enemies. Can’t you see that? Our enemies are the ones who take matters into their own hands and murder Pack members. Grandfather Tobias, Callie Olstrom, Grandfather Mick, Declan Byrne. They’re the ones to fight.” He took a sip of Irish Mist. “Some of my closest friends and confidants are Pack First.”

That was too much. Jason read my incredulous expression and smiled sympathetically.

“Someone you’re close to is a staunch proponent of telling the Others who we are.” He took another sip of his liquor and gazed through the gathering dusk at the tranquil lake.

“Who?” I sat up straight on the bench in shocked dismay. “Besides Celine Ducharme, I don’t know anyone who wants that. I didn’t even know that was the real issue until a few days ago.”

“Think about it. It will come to you.” Jason finished his Irish Mist and rose to his feet. Tall and handsome, he seemed like some sort of demigod, although I knew well how flawed and human he really was. “Good night, Stanzie.”

He disappeared inside, but I sat on the stone bench until full dark descended, unable to comprehend the complexity of everything he’d shared with me.

* * * *

Back in my room, I dug my cellphone out of my purse. No messages from Murphy. I called him again, and the phone rang three times.

I was bracing myself for voice mail when he said, “I just got Fee to sleep for the first time, and if you woke her up I’m gonna be friggin’ pissed. Forgot to shut this damn phone off. Everyone wants something from me, and I’m telling you, I’ve got nothing left for anybody but Fee. So whatever it is you’re wanting, I’m pretty sure I can’t give it to you, but try me anyway. I doubt it, but it could be your lucky day.”

My brain stuttered for a moment. I went hot, then cold.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I didn’t know. I don’t want anything, Murphy. I just wanted to hear your voice.” Lie. I wanted him to tell me who I should trust and what the hell to do, but how could I ask him that now? “You should go back to sleep. I—it’s just you never called me back, and I—oh, hell, I’m sorry. Goodbye.”

“Stanzie!” His tone was sharp, and I froze. What had I done now? “I didn’t know it was you. Your number’s not programmed into my phone. I’m so fucking tired I can’t think.” I heard a door open and then shut. He’d moved rooms. Hopefully that meant Fee had not woken.

“Then I won’t make you stay on the phone. Please,” I floundered. I tried to remember his mouth, hot on mine, his arms tight around me, but he was a stranger again. One I barely knew.

“How’s everything going with the fucking tribunal?”

I wanted to tell him about Celine Ducharme and what we’d discussed at dinner, and Jason being the founder of the Guardians, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t fair to burden him with more than he already carried.

“I’m a witness. And the accuser. I don’t have much of a role. I hope they won’t keep me here for it. I want to help you.”

“You can’t.” His voice was heavy with fatigue. “She doesn’t want anyone but me near her. Not even Siobhan.” He didn’t say his father’s name. How had his interview gone today if Fee didn’t want anyone around her but him? I waited for him to say something about his father’s possible involvement, but he didn’t, and I sure as hell wouldn’t.

“I love you,” I said, the only thing I could think of to help him.

“I gotta go.” His voice was apologetic but firm. He hung up without even a goodbye.

Why hadn’t he said he loved me back? My damn insecurities went into screaming overdrive, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe because of the tears that clogged my throat.

I needed some sort of connection, something, so I scrolled through my contacts and called my cousin, Faith.

She answered on the second ring, her voice cheerful and upbeat, and for a moment I couldn’t speak. Somewhere someone was happy. Would I ever be happy again?

“Did you know he was dying in the dream?” I heard myself ask her, but until I spoke I’d had no idea what I would say.

A dreadful pause rang between us.

“Oh, Stanzie, your Alpha’s dead?” Her voice was a small, horrified whisper.

“Yesterday,” I confirmed. “Stabbed in the stomach. Did you know? You thought it was Murphy, and that’s why you said I should go to him, right? So I could say goodbye?”

“He had blood on his teeth.” Her voice shook. “I didn’t know he was dying, just badly hurt. But I kept hoping…”

“I wish you’d told me. Goddamn, I wish you’d told me.”

“Could you have changed it?”

“Has anyone ever changed any of your damn dreams, Faith? No, I couldn’t have changed it. I could have been prepared maybe. All I know is he’s dead and I couldn’t do anything.”

“Who stabbed him? How did it happen?”

“It doesn’t matter, does it?”

She began to cry, and then Scott’s voice was in my ear.

“Who is this? What the hell is going on?” Protective fury radiated from his tone.

“Scott, it’s me. Stanzie,”

“Why is she crying?” he demanded.

“My Alpha’s dead,” I answered baldly, and I heard him suck in his breath.

“Oh, shit. Stanzie, I’m sorry. That fucking dream? It came true?” His voice was filled with a superstitious dread.

“One of the grandfathers tried to kill Councilor Allerton, and Paddy stepped between them.” How long would it take before I could explain what happened without flashing back to that moment? Without seeing all the blood and feeling so utterly helpless?

Scott’s voice snapped me back to reality. I had no idea what he’d just said, but it didn’t matter. Meaningless platitudes, expressions of horror, nothing would bring Paddy back, would it?

“I’m sorry I made Faith cry. I shouldn’t have called.” If Murphy had just said
I love you
back I wouldn’t have. Spreading misery was something I was good at.

“Do you need anything? Do you need us? We could be there tomorrow.” Scott really meant it. He’d get on a plane for me. He’d clear out his bank account to buy tickets to Dublin just to make me feel better.

My spirits lifted a fraction, not enough to wipe away all the grief, but somehow it was bearable.

“No, you don’t have to do that, Scott. But thank you so much for offering.” My voice broke a little, and Scott said, “We’re family, Stanzie. Anytime you need us, you just ask, and we’ll be there. You’d do the same for us.”

He was right. I would.

A small glow ignited in my heart and spread warmth through my cold body. I did have family again. I had people who cared about me. It had been so damn long. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks, and I wiped them away with my fingers.

When I could speak again, I said goodbye to Scott and got into my pajamas.

Just as I was about to pull back the covers on the massive bed, someone knocked on my door.

When I opened the heavy oak door, Ryan stood in the stone corridor. He looked so strange and grief-stricken, I didn’t hesitate to bring him inside.

“Stanzie, this is gonna sound dumb, I think, but I gotta ask you.” His Irish brogue was thick and I could hardly understand him. He could barely look at me with his mournful brown eyes. “I keep thinking about Paddy, and I feel so awful and alone. Everybody in the pack has somebody to be with right now, but we’re stuck here in this horrible castle away from everyone else and I just thought—this isn’t a seduction or anything, not that I wouldn’t…” A crimson blush stained his cheeks, and he floundered to find his place. “Jaysus, I just wanted to know if I could sleep with you tonight? I mean just sleep. In the same bed. Maybe you could put your hand on my arm or something. Anything so I know someone from my pack’s there and I’m not alone?”

He looked very young at that moment. I wondered how old he was.

“Come on.” I took his hand and led him to the bed. He helped me pull back the covers. He wore a pair of sweat pants, a t-shirt and a pair of socks. He climbed onto the bed and curled into a miserable ball.

I shut off the light, pulled the covers over us both and settled into the groove of his spine. When I put my hand on his arm and hooked my ankle over one of his, he gave a great sigh, and some of the tenseness left his body.

In times of trouble, Pack always turned to Pack.

Chapter 18

I woke with a craving for butterscotch squares. Ryan was gone, the space where he’d slept still warm. All through my shower and as I dressed in a conservative black skirt and gray blouse, I fantasized about butterscotch squares.

Allerton was the only one left at the breakfast table in a sunny room near the kitchen. He sipped coffee as he stared out the window at an herb garden.

“Kathy Manning,” I said as I slipped into the chair beside him with a plate piled high with scrambled eggs and sausage I’d put together from the buffet table near the door. He reached out for a carafe of coffee and filled a cup for me. “She’s a member of Pack First.”

I recalled snatches of conversation she and I had exchanged. How she wanted her son to graduate from an Ivy League school with a business degree so he, with her guidance, could run a company. How she didn’t need the Great Council to achieve her goals.

I suspected she’d use all her influence on the Regional Council to persuade the other members to see the so-called benefits of revealing ourselves.

“Yes,” he agreed pleasantly as he passed me cream and sugar. I fixed my coffee and took a sip. Elixir of the gods.

“That’s the real reason you blocked her from the Great Council, wasn’t it?”

“Part of it,” he allowed. “I truly did love her and wanted to bond with her.”

“So you could keep an eye on her and squash her influence as best you could.” I forked up some scrambled eggs, although, woefully, no ketchup was in evidence. I stole a look at him through my lashes. The man was a cold-blooded monster. Or was he desperately trying to protect our Pack? Heroes made sacrifices. Was Jason Allerton a hero?

“Is that why you chose her in the first place? To be your mistress?” I guessed. Eggs without ketchup were disgusting. I reached for the toast rack. “You figured out she was Pack First, and you went after her with all the weapons in your arsenal.”

A small smile quirked the corners of his mouth.

“You ascribe the most underhanded motivations to me,” he murmured. “But what if I told you that you had a point? I didn’t expect to love her. That threw a wrench in everything, and I knew better than to play that game. I regret it now. Do you believe me?”

“Regret loving her? Sure, I believe you.” I spread marmalade on my toast and took a crunchy bite.