Motor City Wolf (12 page)

“The pack is pretty interrelated, so everybody uses
aunt
and
uncle
for relatives even if they’re not technically accurate,” Lana explained.

Fianna’s only experience with children was with Aidan’s four-year-old daughter. Since Dina was a powerful witch and very mature for her age, Fianna wasn’t sure how to speak to a group of varying aged werewolves. “It’s nice to meet you, Kevin, Tessa, Delaney. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I can shift,” Kevin announced. “Wanna see?”

“Kevin, what do you know about shifting?” his mother asked sternly.

“Only in front of family,” he replied. “But you just said she’s our aunt.”

“That’s true. But we’re still in mixed company, so it’s not polite.” Katy turned to Fianna and sighed. “Six is a little young to be shifting, but he’s a precocious one. Most cubs don’t pick up the ability until they’re seven or eight.”

“That’s good to know.” Fianna had wondered about that, but hadn’t had the courage to ask Greg if their child would be born in human or wolf form.

“Your hair is pretty.” Little Tessa pulled a finger out of her mouth and reached up to touch a strand of Fianna’s hair, which she’d left loose, held back from her face with a headband.

A year ago, even six months ago, Fianna would have flinched and tugged her hair away from the damp fist that clutched it. Now she smiled. “I think yours is pretty, too. I always wanted curls.” The child’s glossy brown locks would probably look a lot like Lana’s when she was older.

“Come on, Tess, it’s your turn.” Kevin’s patience with his younger sisters had run out. “Spin already.”

Tessa reached for the spinner, but had to stand to do it. She stumbled, her hold on Fianna’s hair pulling her into Fianna’s lap. “You spin,” she said, refusing to let go. “I can’t reach.”

Fianna settled the child on her lap and flicked the spinner with her finger, following Tessa’s instructions on how far to move her piece on the game board. The soft weight of the child and the sweet smell of her touched something deep in Fianna’s heart.

If she married Greg, even if they didn’t have children of their own right away, all this family would be hers by association. They’d already been told to call her
aunt.
Clearly, Katy trusted Fianna around her babies, which both terrified and thrilled her. She broke off a piece of muffin and popped it in her mouth to hide the trembling of her lower lip.

Once again, Lana cast a suspicious look at Fianna, but didn’t say a word. Instead, she took her turn and passed Kevin for the lead. “Beat that, pal.” She stuck out her tongue, making the children laugh, along with their mother.

Greg found his grandfather in his den, surrounded by the other males of the pack, including George and Jase, who grinned at him when he walked in. Greg ignored them and made a beeline for the coffee urn. He perched on the arm of a sofa since there weren’t any chairs left vacant and raised his cup in salute at the old man. “So, what’d I miss?”

His uncle Julian lifted one eyebrow. “Most of the morning.”

“Sorry. It was kind of a long night.” He sipped the strong brew and sighed in appreciation. “Something you should all know. Both the firebug and the shooter were addicts. This is a new drug, one that seems to be targeted specifically at paranormals. According to the
Wyndewin,
there’s demon magic mixed in with the chemistry. I’ve got a small sample here, so you can all smell it, and Des Sutton has a bigger batch to be analyzed. Somehow, though, whatever is going on is mixed up with this drug.” He took the small baggie out of his shirt pocket and passed it to Peter.

“This is familiar,” Peter said, wrinkling his nose at the acrid odor. “But I can’t quite put my finger on it. The demonic magic overpowers everything else.”

Greg nodded. “It also either masks an individual’s scent, or they have some similar chemical they use to do so. I could tell both the arsonist and sniper were lupines, but nothing more—not even male or female.”

“Given the randomness of the arsons, I’m pulling all the packs into safe areas.” The look on Ivan’s face was as grave as Greg had ever seen it. “We’ll pack as many as we can into this compound and the other well-protected sites in Milford, St. Clair Shores and Belleville. Anyone who can get out of town will be encouraged to do so.”

“You know, so far all the attacks have been either inside the city limits or damn close. There hasn’t been anything out in the suburbs.” Greg bit his lip. “Maybe the goal is to push all the wolves out of the city. We know demons are involved in the drug. This could be as simple as a turf war.”

Peter nodded. “He’s right. There haven’t been any attacks more than a few miles out of the city. And we have had a higher than usual number of overdoses among lupines, which is unusual. It takes a hell of a lot of heroin or crack to kill a wolf.”

“We also know someone calling himself Beowulf was working with elven rebels to destabilize the Seelie Court.” Greg drained his mug and set down the cup. “Along with a djinni, and who knows what other races, all reporting to someone called Nightshade. It could be that the demons simply want all the other paranormals the hell out of the city and are using whatever tools they can find to expedite that.”

“The thing is there are at least a dozen different species of demon.” Peter’s lips set in a grim line. “This could be one or more working together, and we have almost no information on any of them.”

Greg nodded. “The
Wyndewin
have been fighting demons for years now, so they have more intel than we do. With your permission, Prime, I’d like to ask Desmond Sutton to come speak with you. He may have insights that we can use.”

“Granted.” The old man looked like he’d swallowed a lemon whole, but at least he’d agreed.

The door to the den flung open, and Vince sauntered in, bleary-eyed but grinning. “Sorry I’ve been AWOL for a couple of days, but there were these twin sorority girls—ah, never mind. What’s up? I got orders to get over here ASAP.”

Greg stifled a grin as his grandfather launched into a lecture. At least this took some of the heat off him for a while.

“So how do you put up with having the males make all the decisions?” Fianna asked Katy and Lana after the game was completed. The children were crowded in front of the television watching an animated movie, so the three women relaxed across the room.

“Poorly,” Lana replied. “That’s one reason I left with Greg and George. They aren’t nearly as bad as the older generation.”

“I agree. My Derek knows better than to make important decisions without me. But when it comes to one of the Prime’s meetings, there’s not much even he can do. I’ll guarantee, though, that none of our males will agree to anything without subtly checking with us.”

“Lunchtime,
ladies.
” Sofia Bartok lounged in the doorway with a bored expression on her face. “In honor of the unwashed hordes, it’s a buffet in the main dining room.” Before any of them could respond, she turned and stalked away.

“I think we’re going to go hang with Olga in the kitchen,” Katy said, hoisting her youngest into her arms. “Aunt Marja gets grumpy about the kids running around the tables and putting sticky fingerprints on the drapes. Want to join us?”

“Oh, yes,” Fianna sighed.

“Sorry.” Lana shook her head. “You’re one of the guests of honor, Fee. Besides, no telling what kind of crap Sofia will spread around if you’re not there to defend yourself.”

“Oh, bother!” The quote was from the cartoon teddy bear on the video and it felt most appropriate. She bid goodbye to the children and followed Lana into the formal dining room.

Clearly, other pack members had begun to arrive. A few with small children were being shuttled off, probably to join Katy’s family in the kitchen. Others helped themselves to plates and mingled, but all had worried expressions. At first, Fianna didn’t spot Greg in the crowd, but she felt him the moment he followed his grandfather and uncle through the door at the far end of the large room. Not only did the tenor of the room change when the two most dominant males walked in, but some of the tension eased from her spine at the knowledge of Greg’s presence. When he made eye contact with her and smiled, another load of stress melted away.

Moments later, he reached her side and greeted her with a chaste kiss on the forehead. With his arm possessively around her waist, he introduced her to more pack members than she could possibly keep track of. Her court skills served her well, though, as she shook hands and made small talk with each of the myriad strangers. A familiar face in the corner of the room caught her eye.

“Vince, I’m so glad you’re all right.” She hurried over to hug Greg’s friend. “We were worried.”

“No need. I was only having some fun.” Vince patted her back and stepped away quickly. “I hear I missed the big announcement, you two. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Fianna smiled up at him, noting the lines by his eyes and the rumpled state of his clothing. Even she could smell that he needed a shower. “Are you staying here now, too?”

“So the old man tells me,” he murmured. “I hear you and Greg are getting hitched. You sure that’s a good idea? You don’t really want to hang around wolves all the time do you?”

Fianna shrugged. Something about Vince was off. He’d never been as friendly or accepting as the others, but she’d never thought he disliked her.

“I thought you planned to go back to your own people someday.” The way he sneered the words made it into an insult. “Leave us short-lived lupines in the dust.”

“Vincent.” Peter came up and slapped the younger werewolf on the shoulder. “You look beat. Why don’t you go up and get a shower and some sleep.”

Vince looked like he was about to argue, then shook himself. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s a good idea.” Without another word to Fianna, he wandered off.

Peter turned on his heel and walked away from her, too.

“Lovely. It’s as though I have the plague.”

“Is something wrong, Fee?” Greg handed her a glass of sparkling water with a lemon slice.

Fianna shook her head. “Something about Vince seems off.”

Greg shrugged. He shook his head and smiled down at her. “It’s probably nothing. Too many girls, not enough sleep. Now let’s get some food before there’s nothing left.”

Des and Ric arrived during lunch, and once again, Greg found himself dragged off into his grandfather’s study, without Fee. This was a smaller group, with only the immediate family and Peter and Maurice present while Des brought everyone up to speed on his investigation.

“Basically what we’ve learned is that this drug’s primary component is sodium chloride, common table salt.” Des leaned against the mantel as he spoke. “And the chemical traces in the salt indicate it’s totally unrefined, and not recently harvested sea salt. At a guess, someone is using the abandoned mines under the city as a source. There are also chemicals in it that are simply not found on this plane of existence. Along with the magical residue, this makes us certain it’s demonic—probably Gravaki demons, which are about the nastiest-assed kind there is.”

Ouch.
No wonder Des was willing to work with the lupines on this. He hated demons, especially Gravaki, even more than he disliked shifters. About five years earlier, one of the monsters had raped and nearly killed Des’s sister, Elise. Considering Des’s ability to carry a grudge, Greg was sort of surprised there were any Gravaki left alive in the city.

Greg ran through his knowledge of demons. Unlike some religious beliefs implied, demons had nothing to do with good, evil, heaven or hell. They were simply beings from other planes of existence. They came in all shapes and sizes, and Greg thought most of them avoided Earth as much as possible. Humans weren’t known for being friendly to other creatures. Still, sometimes the species that could pass as human did wind up living among them. Greg didn’t know much about any of the various types, but he did know that Gravaki was a plane full of aggressive, violent beings that didn’t have any problem with rape or murder. Anything to do with them was going to be trouble.

“The problem with this particular drug is that it seems to be most addictive to Fae and witches,” Ric added. “Anyone with any trace of magic in their genetic makeup is particularly susceptible. We think there might be another version—one targeted at shifters.”

“Which might either be an effort to get rid of other paranormal beings or just to get control over them.” Ivan nodded at the two guests. “Thank you for bringing us this information.”

Maurice shook his head. “I can’t see that this is relevant to us at all. Frankly, I don’t see a pattern. There’s always been violence between the smaller packs. That doesn’t equate to some grand conspiracy.”

“I agree.” Peter glared daggers at Greg. “The problem I see is lupines forgetting their place and their obligations.”

Maurice smiled slowly. “Perhaps instead of chasing after petty criminals, we should be getting our own house in order.”

What the fuck is this?
Greg had never been more glad to see his grandfather than when Ivan walked over and took his arm.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to have a word with my grandson about his upcoming nuptials.”

Greg breathed a sigh of relief and followed the old man into his private study.

“It’s hard to believe we’re in an enclosed compound,” Fee said to Lana as they walked through the woods behind the big house. Though there were a few other small dwellings on the property, the bulk of the parcel acres had been left wooded.

“I know. The woods were always my favorite part of visiting my grandparents. That and hanging out with Greg and George and Katy, of course. Sofia was never fun to play with.”

“Greg and George must have found solace out here as well,” Fianna mused. “Growing up in that place—it couldn’t have been easy.”

Lana shook her head. “No, it wasn’t. Having each other is what got them through.”

They walked a little farther, toward a small, glassy pond, dotted with fallen yellow and red leaves. A cool breeze brushed their cheeks, but the weather was still warm for late October, and they wore only light jackets over their jeans and sweaters.

“Have you decided on a date for the wedding?” Lana paused beside the pond, looking down into the water rather than at Fianna. “I’m guessing soon.”

“We haven’t talked about it at all.” It was as honest an answer as Fianna could give. Lana had become the closest friend she’d ever had. She hated to lie to her, even by default. “Sometimes, I’m not even sure we’ll go through with it.”

“You didn’t have any wine last night or any coffee this morning.” Lana looked up and smiled. “Even though you really looked like you could use it. Your scent is changing, and you’ve been acting a little…weird, even for you. I’m thinking the wedding should be ASAP.”

Hell, Lana would have known she was ovulating, too, wouldn’t she? “We don’t know yet.” Now it was Fianna who stared into the pond. She wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t understand what Lana was hinting at. “Even Greg couldn’t tell as of this morning. It’s very strange, having him sniff me, let me tell you.”

“I can’t tell yet either.” Lana linked her arm through Fianna’s. “There’s so much of him on your skin, which could account for the change I’m sensing. Are you happy about the possibility? Is he?”

Fianna shrugged. “I…don’t know. I’d love to have children, but right now, everything is so complicated—”

“Fee, get down.” With a sharp shove, Lana sent Fianna sprawling on the ground at the same time as she dove in the opposite direction.

As she fell, Fianna heard the twang of a bow. Vicious spears of fire burned into her shoulder before she landed hard, knocking the wind from herself. As she lay sprawled in the dirt, she heard a scrabble followed by an ear-splitting howl. Her vision blurred to black, but she swore there was a snarling wolf in a torn pink sweater standing over her, right before Fianna passed out.

When the meeting finally ended, Greg left Des and Ric talking to George and Jase while he went looking for Fee. She’d seemed unusually preoccupied at lunch, and even though he knew she was with Lana, he couldn’t help the need to check on her with his own eyes.

“They went for a walk in the woods,” Olga told him when he checked the kitchen to see if they were there. “Miss Lana always did like the pond. I’d look there if I were you.”

Not even bothering to stop for a jacket, Greg headed out the back door, through the garden to the woods. He’d only gone a few yards past the garden gate when Sofia stepped out from behind the trees.

Greg paused, manners winning out over his desire to find Fee. He looked at Sofia, in her tight leather pants and figure-hugging silk sweater, and wondered what he’d ever seen in her.

“You can’t really be marrying that annoying Fae mouse.” Sofia stepped close enough that her musky perfume filled his nostrils. She was aroused, clearly, but even the scent of her desire didn’t do anything to stir him. Whatever attraction she’d once held for him was completely gone.

“I am.” He moved to the side of the path, intending to step around her. “I’m sorry if you didn’t understand years ago, but anything we ever had between us is over. Fianna is my mate.”

“You don’t mean that.” She slid in front of him, blocking his way, and laid her hands on his chest. “It was so good between us, Greg. So hot. And think of the power we’ll wield. Together we’ll rule every lupine in the Midwest.”

Before he could tell her he had no interest in ruling anyone, she leaned in. Her high-heeled boots put her just a few inches shorter than him, so she barely had to look up. She grabbed his hair, pulled his face down and planted her lips on his.

The kiss tasted wrong. Everything about Sofia was off. She felt unpleasant and the vibe down Greg’s spine was sort of slimy and cold. Mostly, she simply wasn’t Fee, and he didn’t want anyone else.

Tired of it all, he pushed her hands away from him and stepped back. “No. Now leave, Sofia. This isn’t going to happen. Not now, not ever.”

In the distance, he heard a scream, which cut off sharply.
Fee?
Another shriek blended with the first, then turned into a howl, one filled with anger and fear.
Lana.

Sofia forgotten, Greg shouted to the house for help and ran as fast as he could toward the pond.

Footsteps pounded behind him as he ran, but Greg didn’t turn around to look. When he reached the clearing by the pond, his worst fears were confirmed.

Fianna lay sprawled on the ground, unmoving, a slick patch of blood seeping from beneath her. In wolf form, with remnants of her sweater still clinging to her shoulders, Lana stood guard above her fallen friend.

When she spotted Greg, Lana whimpered and stepped away, allowing him to go down on his knees beside Fee.

“She’s breathing.” He heard the agony in his own words. Turning her slightly he saw the weapon. An arrow poked out of her left shoulder, blood sluggishly seeping around it.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Lana change and struggle back into her tattered jeans.

“It came out of the trees,” she said. “I heard the shooter running away but thought it was more important to protect Fee than to chase the bastard down.”

“Thank you.” Greg got the words out past the knot in his throat, but he didn’t look up as he examined Fee’s pale skin and shallow breathing. “Desmond,” he bellowed at the top of his lungs.

“Here.” The mage pushed through the crowd that must have followed when Greg yelled for help. Ric was close at his heels.

George was there, too, and Greg looked up at his brother as he was nudged aside by Ric and Des. “George, would you see if you can track the assailant?”

George nodded, stepping behind a tree to strip and shift.

By now, half the occupants of the house had crowded around them, including Peter and his security team, guns out, eyes scanning the ring of trees.

“Ric, can you blink the arrow out, while I stop the bleeding?” Des’s voice was calm and cool. “I don’t think it hit anything vital.” He pulled a knife from his pocket and sliced through Fee’s jacket and sweater to reveal the wound.

“No problem.” Ric squatted across from Des, his hands on Fee’s good shoulder. “On three. One, two…” He lifted one hand, and on three the bloody arrow was in his hand and Des began applying pressure to the gaping hole in Fee’s skin.

Jase took the arrow with a handkerchief and turned to Peter. “You got somebody ’ere can check for prints?”

“Ric, some help here.” Des moved his own hand aside. “See what you think.”

The elf moved a hand to Fee’s bare skin. “The wound is pretty simple,” he said after a moment. Even as Greg watched, the bleeding stopped and the hole began to close. “But what the hell is that
in
it? It’s coursing through her blood.”

“I think it’s our mystery drug,” Des growled. “I’d lay odds that arrow is tipped with it.”

“We need help,” Ric agreed. Fee’s body started to twitch under their hands. “Is Elise in town?”

Des shook his head. “Underhill.”

Fee’s convulsions increased and Greg took one of her hands, sensing the magic Des poured into her to calm her.

“Let’s get her into a car,” Ric said calmly, though Greg could see the tension in his friend’s lean form. “I’ll call Aidan and have them meet us at their place.”

Aidan and Elise’s Grosse Pointe home housed the local portal to Faerie or Underhill. Very little communication got in and out, but both Ric and Aidan had magically enhanced phones that could penetrate the veil between worlds.

Greg was there in an instant, lifting Fee into his arms. “Grandfather…” he began.

The old man shook his head. “Go. Bring her home when you can. We’ll take care of finding the assassin.”

“I’ll drive,” Lana offered, running ahead of Greg and the others.

“My car.” Des threw her a set of keys. “It’s spelled to be ignored by cops. Don’t get us all killed.”

“You’re going to have to put her in the back with us, Greg.” Ric kept pace beside Greg as they ran to the parking area beside the house. “Hopefully between us, Des and I might have enough magic to keep the drug’s effects under control.”

“I’ve seen Elise draw power from others when she healed Fee from the gunshot,” Lana said. Still barefoot, she sprinted to keep up. “Can you do that with us? Pull energy from me or Greg or any of the other lupines?”

“I don’t think so.” Des wrenched open the back door of his big sedan and slid in while Ric did the same on the other side. “Generally, it’s a magic-to-magic thing, but I’m willing to try. Hand her to me, Greg. I promise, we’ll do all we can.”

Putting Fee into another man’s hands was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, but it was her best chance for survival. He could see her body shaking, and her lips were turning blue. As gently as possible, he handed her to Des, who eased her long legs across to Ric, so that she lay across both their laps. Ric had his cell phone to his ear as Greg and Lana piled into the front and Lana started the Lincoln’s powerful engine.

“They’ll be there by the time we arrive.” Ric hung up his phone. “Come on, Fee, stay with us, kid.” He chafed her ankles. “Whatever this shit is in her bloodstream, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“It’s the same drug,” Greg said. He’d turned completely backward in the front seat, ignoring the seat-belt law. He reached back and took one of Fee’s cold, shaking hands. “I can smell it taking hold. But it doesn’t make sense. She’s human now. Why would a drug for paranormals be affecting her like this?”

“My guess is that her DNA is still Fae,” Des said. “Her powers were stripped, but she’s still herself underneath. She’s fighting it, though. With her being so lightweight, I think this was meant to be a fatal overdose.”

“Come on, princess, keep fighting. Don’t let the bastards win.” Greg didn’t know if she could hear him, if she could feel him holding her hand, but surely it couldn’t hurt. He didn’t want to think about his life if she didn’t make it, and he couldn’t even give voice to his other fear—that even if she survived, she’d lose the baby. While he had no proof yet that she was pregnant, he’d been sure of it in his soul since the night they’d first made love.

It should have taken close to an hour to get all the way across town to Grosse Pointe, but Lana was fast, and traffic was light. Throughout the thirty minutes or so they spent in the car, Fee alternately moaned, slept or shuddered. Greg could sense the flood of magic Des and Ric continued to pour into her. They hadn’t been able to pull juice from him. Both of them were pale and breathing heavily by the time Lana squealed the car to a stop inside the gates of Aidan’s mansion.