Silent Cravings (28 page)

“I have to agree with Christoph, though,” Ashi began. Christoph gripped his shoulders.

“It’s gonna be okay, man. You’re gonna get through this!” He turned to Ken again. “See what you’ve done? He’s
agreeable.
”

Ashi glared at him. “Don’t touch me.”

“Great, broke him, yadda yadda. Shut up and get in,” Ken said, making shooing motions at them while he went around to the driver’s side.

They took off for the masses of boutiques and specialty stores around
Fifth and Madison Avenue. Mouse’s longing look at FAO Schwartz as they passed was so pitiful that Ken promised her they’d swing through the toy store before going home.

It wasn’t far from Royce’s home and didn’t take long to arrive, but it did take forever to find parking.

“All right, boys and girls. First stop, Abercrombie. I’m not taking you into Luigi Borelli’s or Hermes dressed like that.”

When he saw Christoph’s stung look and Ashi’s eye roll, Ken pointed an admonishing finger at the two Weres. “Like it or not, once you make your first public appearance, important people around town are going to connect you with Alec Royce. That means you need to dress like the
fabulous
little flunkies you are, mm-kay? You may not think much of it now, but trust me, you’ll be thanking me later.”

Mouse was making exaggerated faces and hand gestures behind his back as he started in on the two, mocking his dramatic flair. He flipped her off without looking at her and sauntered down the street toward the huge Abercrombie & Fitch store.

“Give me a good thrift store any day. If my jeans cost more than five bucks, they’d better come with a car.” Christoph looked around. “Christ, this is ritzy. It’s like one of those travel magazines.”

Ashi tugged on his collar, trying to get it to sit lower. “This thing is driving me crazy.”

“You heard the man. You’re a
fabulous
little flunky.”

“I want you to get cancer of the throat.”

“I’m finding it sad that we’re shopping for clothes so we can go shopping for clothes. In the clothes we just shopped for.”

Ashi reached over and jammed his thumb into a pressure point at the base of Christoph’s spine.

“Oh, you
fucker
,” he gasped, trying not to walk like an arthritic penguin.

Ken waited impatiently at the huge, glass entrance, tapping his foot and arching a sardonic brow at the pair. He ushered them in, immediately heading for the khakis and turtlenecks in search of something that would “showcase those asses and hide those tacky collars.” Mouse was heartily amused and hung back to watch.

A couple of salespeople—a slim, statuesque blonde and a spends-too-much-time-at-the-gym beefcake—wandered over. Ken broke into a smile, his voice taking on a high-pitched, girlish squeal. “Oh my God, Jason, fab to see you!”

Jason blushed
and returned Ken’s smile with a shy one of his own.

Mouse and the saleslady exchanged an amused look, then went off to peruse the button-downs, Mouse scribbling her a note explaining what they needed.

“Okay,” Jason said as Ken gestured with vague disapproval at Ashi and Christoph’s clothes. “Let’s get you two dolled up!”

Christoph raised his hand. “I like jeans. Jeans are great.”

Ashi looked around with obvious disapproval. “I only wear athletic pants. And hakama pants if we’re doing that sort of thing in the dojo.”

He wouldn’t have had to put up with this at
his
job, where he taught martial arts. Sure, he had to deal with wannabe tough guys who only wanted to learn Tae Kwon Do for the fancy kicks, but at least he could smack the smart-asses upside the head. Back in California, he was respected and feared. Very few people would dare cross him in any way.

Christoph leaned toward Ken. “Hakama pants are actually a skirt.”

Ashi glared fiercely at Christoph. “It is
not
a skirt.”

Christoph nodded to Ken, mouthing, “It’s a skirt.”

Ashi rubbed his temples. “Why is it that I am the only one here who’s uncomfortable?”

“Where did
you find these two?” Jason asked.

Ken was not amused. “Mr. Royce dug them up from somewhere. I’m playing dress-up until they grow some fashion sense of their own.”

Jason made complimentary sounds in the back of his throat as he made a beeline to some racks and displays, gathering a steadily growing pile of clothes in his arms. Once a small mountain accumulated, he held them against one or the other of the men. He and Ken exchanged sage nods or grumbles of distaste over clothes that, to Ashi and Christoph, mostly looked the same save for slight variations in color. Jason seemed to care not a whit that he was throwing several hundred dollars’ worth of clothing on the floor as he discarded the ones that did not pass inspection.

Eventually, Jason shoved a pile into Christoph’s arms and a pile into Ashi’s, then pointed the way to the dressing rooms.

“Let’s see
’
em before we buy
’
em, eh boys?” Ken said.

“Ooh, yes, I’d love to see
you
—” and Jason waved at Ashi “—in that salmon button-down.”

“Mm, me too,” Ken said, eyes alight.

In the dressing rooms, Christoph chose the topmost shirt and pants on the pile and put them on with all the eagerness of a cow being led to slaughter.

“Are we supposed to match up the shirts and pants or something?” Ashi asked from the next stall over, sounding dazed.

“I don’t care,” Christoph grumbled. “They can figure it out.”

Christoph looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like a trendy douche-bag. A salmon button-down flew over the stall wall and landed on his head.

“What the hell?”

“If you can do it discreetly, destroy that.”

Christoph tossed it into the next stall over. “Uh-huh.”

Ashi stared at himself in the mirror. “God, it’s like my worst nightmares come true.”

Christoph hauled himself up and looked over the partition. “You look dreamy.”

Ashi swiped at his face, his fingers curled into claws, but Christoph jumped back too quickly. When it looked like Ashi was going to scramble over the partition and come after him, he quickly exited.

“Whoops, gotta show Ken!”

“Get back here, you fucker!”

Jason was horrified at Ashi and Christoph’s antics, but Ken was nearly as amused as Mouse, laughing heartily at their angry banter.

“Sorry Ashi, honey, but Christoph’s right! That’s
much
better.” He paused. “…but, Christoph, babe, next time try the lavender shirt with the
black
cargos, not brown.
’
Kay?”

Mouse came over with a deep blue shirt for Christoph, one with a high collar and long sleeves. Ken made a face at it, but she ignored him and held it out imperiously with one hand while waving impatiently at Ashi with the other to leave him alone.

Christoph took the shirt. At least it wasn’t purple. Or “lavender” as Jason had called it. “Fruity” as he himself would call it.

As Christoph went back to the dressing rooms, Ashi rolled his shoulders and shifted his weight, frowning. “I can’t move in this crap.”

“I don’t think those clothes were designed to withstand the might of your karate,” Christoph called back.

“It’s not karate, you dipshit, it’s—oh, just shut up already.” He stormed back to the dressing rooms. “I’m only trying on one more thing or I’m going to murder someone.”

Christoph put on the shirt and came back out, ignoring Ashi’s grumbling as he changed. He smiled at Mouse. “Look okay?”

Mouse grinned and gave Christoph a thumb’s up. Even Ken grudgingly admitted that it suited him.

She gestured at Jason who rushed back to the changing room and gathered the remaining clothes. Meanwhile, she linked her arm in Christoph’s and led him over to the cashier, ignoring Ken’s protest that they weren’t done yet. She stepped aside while Jason laid everything on the counter.

By the time they were done ringing up Christoph’s clothes, his eyes were bugging at the figure on the register. Mouse didn’t bat a lash as she produced a black American Express card and waited with a mildly bored expression for the clerk to finish the transaction.

Meanwhile, Ken was tsk-ing and impatiently waving away the blond saleslady while he picked through Ashi’s pile and selected a couple of pants and shirts, leading him to the counter where Mouse and Christoph were waiting. He didn’t seem too put out that Ashi wouldn’t link arms like Mouse and Christoph had, but he did pout a little.

Christoph hadn’t paid that much for clothes in his entire
life
. That was a down payment on something, not the cost of clothes you were going to wear to shop for clothes. Dread simmered in the pit of his stomach.

But, hey, there was a pretty lady on his arm, and so far she hadn’t torn his throat out and drained him of his blood. So it wasn’t all bad.

Ashi wanted to throw himself in front of a bus but was still feeling strangely lethargic. He suspected he was feeling like a human, having lost the stamina and strength of a werewolf, but that didn’t give him much comfort. He wanted to finish the shopping trip from hell and go hide in his closet.

Chapter Twelve

S
hopping accomplished, Mouse helped Christoph carry all of his stuff inside, then proceeded to frown heavily as she looked around for a place to put his things.

He wouldn’t be able to sleep on her couch forever. Disappointing as it was, she would have to send him upstairs to share the room with Ashi. She stopped in her room to grab a pen and wrote a note to explain this, then led the way to Sebastian and Thad’s apartment.

Ken was helping Ashi put his things away, shooing him out of the closet so he could hang some of the clothes. Thad and Sebastian were watching from the doorway, but moved out of the way when Mouse arrived with Christoph. Sebastian muttered a half-hearted greeting, and Thad stuck out his hand once Christoph put some of the bags down.

“Hey, you’re sharin’ the digs, huh? I’m Thad, and that’s Sebastian.”

“Looks like it.” Christoph shook Thad’s hand firmly. “I’m Christoph. I like to think I’m not an asshole like Ashi.”

Ashi scowled and muttered an expletive under his breath.

Thad was relieved at the crack. Christoph had a sense of humor, then.

Analie had followed Mouse and Christoph, but stood in the doorway to the hall, careful not to upset Thad. The cookies had helped—he gave her an easy smile.

She was quite obviously ready for bed, but Analie wanted to see what had been chosen for Christoph. Although these clothes were finest he would ever own, he was unhappy with the reason he now owned them. At least he wouldn’t ruin them by shifting.

Mouse waved Analie over to help put everything away. Even if Christoph wasn’t happy with his new wardrobe, the vampiress was pleased as punch, particularly when she removed the silk casing protecting a navy blue business suit to hang it in the closet.

When Analie passed by him, Thad ruffled her hair. In her non-furry form, he clearly had no issues being friendly with her.

“Hey, any chance I can get more of those cookies out of you this week?”

Analie grinned at Thad. “Yeah, sure. Glad you liked
’
em.”

While Mouse and Ken were industriously putting everything away, Sebastian rubbed his chin and then turned to Christoph.

“Do you like action movies?”

Christoph nodded enthusiastically to Sebastian. “Hell yeah.
Die Hard
,
Transporter
, anything with explosions.”

Analie poked through Christoph’s clothes, folding them and putting them away or hanging them up. He had nice stuff. She wiped her eyes as they watered from her yawning. She was going fast. She looked over at Mouse and Ken and squinted a bit. They looked a little blurry.

“I’m gonna head out. My eyes are feeling funny,” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands and shuffling out of the apartment.

Mouse nodded, glanced around at the mess of empty bags, shrugged and followed her out. Ken gathered the empty bags.

“Me, too,” Ken said. “I still have some work to do tonight. Did Alec tell either of you boys when you’re supposed to get started?”

At Ashi and Christoph’s blank looks, he sighed again.

“Okay, I’ll come get you when it’s time for your debut.”

Sebastian and Thad were quite pleased with Christoph. Sebastian came over to clap him on the shoulder companionably and lead him to the couch, throwing out his arm in an expansive gesture to point out all the movies.

“My friend, I think we are all going to get along just fine.”

Royce was suspicious. Analie had been sneaking around without supervision. She always came back, but she had a hint of someone else’s scent—Were, no less—clinging to her.

She’d snuck out again, ducking and weaving through the foot-traffic, and he was following from a few blocks back. The wind was in his favor, keeping her off his scent.

Freddy was visiting from Pennsylvania again, and Analie felt like a kid at Christmas. Not only did she get to play Secret Agent Man and sneak out, but she got to hang out with someone who was A) not a vampire and B) not enamored of one. In other words, someone normal and sane. And she got hot chocolate to boot.

She bolted across the street, ignoring the honking cars. As the number of people increased, she wished she could go by rooftop, or at least jump over a few of the thicker groups. Royce had warned her against doing such things—she’d cause trouble. Instead she shouldered through the crowd until she spotted the familiar thin figure through the window of a Starbucks, sitting at a table with two cups.

“Hey!” Freddy turned around at the sound of Analie’s voice and smiled as she hurried inside.

“Hey, yourself. I got you hot chocolate, but they forgot the whipped cream.”

“Undoubtedly run by Amberguard,” Analie sniffed, drinking the chocolate and scalding her tongue. “Damn their underhanded ways. So, you had a good trip?”

Freddy nodded. “Hitchhiked this time.”

Analie’s eyes went wide. “No way. That sounds so cool.” She tried her chocolate again. “How’s life in Pennsylvania?”

“Other than the woods, it’s not all that great. Sorry, give me sunny Cali any day.” Freddy carefully sipped his chocolate. “How’s life with the leeches?”

Analie rolled her eyes. “School, work, house. You’ve heard it before.”

Freddy nodded. “You getting along okay with Mr. R?”

“I guess.” She shrugged.

“You are so lucky he’s not Lev.”

Analie nodded. “Oh, trust me. I know I’m lucky.”

Even though their world had been turned completely upside-down, it almost felt like they were back at one of their old haunts in California. They’d only dared meet up a few times since the cub-hide started; the risk of being caught together by either Royce or Freddy’s host pack made them keep their visits to a minimum.

“Didja get that info on the White Hats?” Analie asked.

“Yeah, thanks,” Freddy said. “I’ve been looking out for them, but I guess there aren’t many around in my area. I think my host pack keeps them away for the most part.”

“That’s good. Makes the trip up here a little safer.”

Freddy suddenly laughed. “Christ, you’re in the weirdest cub-hide in the world.”

Analie kicked him. “Shut up, you’re not supposed to mention that.”

“
You
shut up.”

Royce absently tugged his trench coat closed, sliding through the crowd like a ghost. Few noticed him, unthinkingly stepping out of his way, mostly as he was expending effort to go unseen through use of an aura of “not here.” It wasn’t anything that would do lasting harm to their psyches, just a “sense” given off for people to look anywhere but directly at him. A subtle but effective camouflage.

When Analie rushed across the street, Royce moved to the edge of the sidewalk and stopped. It didn’t particularly surprise him to see her go into the Starbucks. What did surprise him was that she joined a boy.

Eyes narrowed, he watched them for a few long moments, observing. Once he was sure they weren’t about to leave, he headed to the crosswalk and melded with the crowd again.

A minute or two later, he stood in the doorway, eyes narrowed as he focused on the boy—a teenager. The scent of Were was strong here; aside from Analie, the boy at her table and one or two other patrons were also Weres. A touch of fang was visible as he curled his lip, stalking with effortless, silent grace toward their table.

Freddy was enjoying this visit. Meeting during the night was not ideal, but Analie had mentioned being exhausted when they met during the day. Friday nights were easiest since she had Saturday off. They just had to be careful.

It was an odd thought. Right now he was feeling comfortable, secure, happy. Analie was laughing and smiling and it hardly felt like they were in the middle of New York, one of them breaking cub-hide from Pennsylvania, the other sneaking out without a vampire chaperone.

While Analie was trying to remember some song lyrics, Freddy sipped his chocolate and glanced around. There was a guy industriously typing away on his laptop, a gaggle of girls with iced drinks, and then that guy walking toward them.

Freddy felt he should remember this guy from somewhere. Oh shit, Goliath? No, he didn’t look like a Goliath. Maybe he was a movie star? Nah, he didn’t have that kind of vibe. Where the hell did Freddy know him from?

Analie interrupted his thoughts. “What are you squinting at?”

“Do we know that guy?” Freddy asked quietly, nodding toward the man.

Analie frowned and turned around. She squinted, then spun around, paling as she gripped her chocolate way too hard. “Oh no!”

“What?” Freddy demanded, his voice a squeaky whisper. “What?”

“It’s
Mr. R
,” Analie hissed, her empty cup making a hollow crumpling noise as her fingers dug into it.

Freddy had been midway through a sip of hot chocolate. Now it was over the front of his shirt and pants, with him coughing and choking on what little made it into his mouth.

We’re going to die. If we’re lucky.

“Just what,” Royce drawled, once he came close enough to rest a hand on Analie’s shoulder and stare down with thinly veiled impatience at Freddy, “do you think you’re doing here without a chaperone, young lady? And who is this?”

Royce knew he’d probably scare the hell out of her acting like this, but he wanted to impress upon her that sneaking around was not allowed. He thought he’d made that clear from the start. Obviously, he hadn’t gotten the point across. John would also need to get another reprimand for allowing security to be so lax as to let her sneak out alone.

Not to mention he was unfamiliar with the boy. Whoever he was presented a danger, if only in that he was lure enough to get her to leave the safety of Royce’s home by herself.

Analie opened and closed her mouth like a gasping fish. No matter how she answered this, she was going to be in an astonishing amount of trouble. The worst of it was that Freddy was now in trouble as well.

“Uhhh,” she stalled.

Freddy was gripping the edge of the table, his knuckles white. He stared up at Royce and swallowed hard. All his training on vampires wouldn’t help here.

Never fight a vampire.

Just walk away.

They don’t want to bother you.

They’re fast and dangerous, so the best thing to do is run away.

Useless now. This vampire
wanted
to bother them. They
couldn’t
run away.

“This is a friend of mine,” Analie said slowly, as if she was choking on each word.

Freddy nodded, his head jerking around like a marionette.

“He’s visiting me.” Analie glanced at Freddy. “He was just leaving.”

Freddy was desperate for any excuse to go tearing out of that Starbucks, but the idea of leaving Analie alone to contend with a very powerful, angry vampire made him feel sick.

“Uh, Analie?”

“Shut up,” Analie snapped.

Freddy’s response was automatic. “
You
shut up.”

Analie kicked him under the table.

They both jumped when Royce cleared his throat.

“Right, then,” Royce said. “I gathered he’s your friend.
What
is he doing here?” Without waiting for an answer, he leaned forward to point a manicured fingernail at Freddy’s nose, growling softly. “You stay right where you are until this is sorted out.”

The boy didn’t have the scent of any of the local packs on him. He was definitely a shifter of some kind, feline, but not a flavor that Royce was familiar with. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. He was meddling in something he had no business with.

Did the boy have ties to Goliath? If he was breaking the rules, just like the alpha had, that had possibilities.

In keeping with the angry tones he’d been using, rather than show signs of speculation, he went on the attack.

“Where is your pack, boy? Who do you belong to?”

As terrified as Freddy was, this whole “boy” thing was really getting on his nerves. Still, he wasn’t about to become indignant. He was too busy trying not to start shaking like a leaf.

“I-I-I don’t have a p-pack,” Freddy stammered.
Technically.
“
I’m not Were.”

Analie nodded, though she didn’t entirely agree. Freddy may not be a werewolf, but she still, at least privately, considered him part of Goliath.

Non-werewolves had no place in Goliath—literally. They held no rank, never went to pack meetings, rarely went to any pack gatherings, and generally stayed out of the way.

Amelia raised Freddy, but not
within
Goliath. Being another kind of shifter, he was not considered part of the pack now that he was old enough to shift and fend for himself.

Analie felt dizzy and realized she’d been holding her breath. She started to breathe again, glancing between Freddy and Royce.

“Don’t lie to me,” Royce said, radiating cold and anger. “You reek of Were. I’ve never known any of you to travel alone. Least of all one so young. Someone somewhere is taking care of you. Who is it, and which pack are they with?”

Unspoken lay the obvious. If he was with Goliath, the shit would well and truly hit the fan.