Silver (7 page)

Andrew took his phone away from his ear to check the call was still open as the silence stretched. Finally, Michelle sighed. “Say we take her. What do
you
want out of this? Information about missing Were isn’t going to do you much good on that coast. You want permission to cross territory out here to do your own search?”

Andrew winced. He’d planned to wait to ask for permission to cross territory when he was already there, having escorted Silver out. He’d hoped it would be harder to throw him out than it would be to deny him permission over the phone.

“I want to be able to track the one who did this, yes. But that’s secondary. The priority is finding Silver somewhere to go.”

“She goes by Silver, does she?” Michelle let out an incredulous breath, then lapsed into another long silence.

Andrew clenched and unclenched his hand to try to release tension from other muscles too. He wished she’d just say no and get it over with, as the others had. What alpha would want to let “the Butcher” onto their territory, knowing he’d want to stick around?

“I want to meet her. Maybe one of my pack will recognize her. And if I do let her stay, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to be able to say I did Roanoke’s duty for him.” Her sarcasm was no less acidic for not being directed at Andrew. “And we’ll see about your permission to cross when you get here.”

Andrew released a breath, ragged with unexpected relief. “Thank you. We’re chartering. I’ll text you the flight details once I have them.”

7

Silver didn’t like it when they flew. They went so high up into the sky she felt like she should be able to touch the Lady, but Her presence was still veiled from Silver. It made her ache inside. Not as badly as the ache left by the absence of her wild self, but bad enough. Why had the Lady left her? Why couldn’t Silver feel Her light on her skin?

The wind stung her face after too long, and Silver curled into a little ball, letting the warrior carry her against his chest. “At least the monster can’t track our scent,” she told Death, trying to sound optimistic.

“Why would he need to, when you’re going toward him?” Death said. Death didn’t mind flying, and not a hair ruffled out of place as he ran along the air beside them. “It would be better to give in now.”

Silver avoided Death’s gaze by looking at the ground below. That was almost worse. The rivers and paths looked like snakes. “I can’t run forever. I have to trust someone. Maybe I can only find my wild self if I go back to where she first ran, and follow her trail properly. I’ve been looking inside all this time. Maybe I need to look outside.”

Silver heard how little it sounded like she believed that. Death’s contempt for her self-delusion was clear. “He’s not helping you search. He’s hunting the monster.”

Silver’s stomach clenched. No, the monster was too strong. You had to run, run as far and as fast as you could, to stay safe. She’d known in abstract that the monster might catch the warrior, following her. Might catch him in fire and burn him down to ash. But hunting would take the warrior to the monster even faster.

“And when the monster defeats him, you will be handy.” Death dropped his jaw in a grin, adding a flash of teeth to the humor. “Think of the trouble the warrior will have saved him.”

Silver didn’t deign to answer, but Death’s words twisted in her mind. This was why she should have kept running alone. Of course a warrior would think first and only of his prey. She would search for her wild self, alone, and after that she would run again, alone.

*   *   *

The only people around to see Silver were the pilot and a few people at the small airports where they stopped to refuel. The pilot, either the guy Laurence knew, or a guy that guy knew, made no comment. Andrew tried to encourage him in his disinterest by playing the reluctant caretaker to a mentally disabled relative. Silver bristled at the patronization at first, but once they got airborne, she seemed too far gone to register anything he was saying.

She didn’t seem to notice him buckling her in each time, just allowed it before curling into a tiny ball with her knees against her chest. On the first leg, she talked monsters and running, but the ramblings got progressively more indistinct as time went on, until on the last leg she was silent.

Her arm also seemed to pain her more. Frustration at sitting beside her doing nothing made his jaw ache. He wanted to help, but he had no idea what he could do. Would aspirin work for her? He couldn’t remember hearing about a Were bothering to try it. Even if it would work, he hadn’t thought to bring any. How the hell had he ended up with this job? Better they had sent Sarah or someone to take care of Silver on the trip, and he had gone separately to track her monster. Tracking and dishing out punishment was what he was good at.

He took her good hand, for lack of anything better. That seemed like it might be the right thing to do, as her fingers closed around his with a werewolf’s strength. He let her keep the hand for the rest of the flight.

It was dark when they reached the Hillsboro airport, chosen since the charter company didn’t fly into Portland International. Andrew was unclear as to how Hillsboro related to Portland, but Michelle hadn’t had any questions when he sent her the information, so he’d let the locals worry about that.

For the walk across the tarmac to the terminal building, Andrew shouldered his overnight bag and the bag Sarah had packed with clothes and toiletries scavenged from the female pack members. With luck he could hand both it and Silver off to Portland to care for. Andrew hoped that once they met Silver, they’d want to protect her.

Keeping Silver close when he had a bag on either side proved a challenge, but he kept a hand on her back. She started to resist as they entered the tiny terminal building. The signage suggested that other businesses leased the second floor, and companies had carved up much of the rest for their specific traffic.

Silver bit her lip. “Why do I have to go to this pack?”

“Because they might know who you are. Or know who would know. And you should stay put with them until I figure it out.”

“So you can hunt the monster. What makes you think they’ll agree to let me stay even if I wanted to?” The look she gave him was so dry it took him aback for a moment. He might have liked this woman when she wasn’t crazy.

Then he shook his head and laughed. He flicked her chin with a thumb. “Just make your eyes real big. Maybe tear up a little. They’ll be eating out of your hand.”

Silver batted his hand away, no real strength behind it. “You should try that sometime. Catch them off guard.” She was away and heading for the front door, laughing, before he could reply. He chuckled.

Her burst of strength waned in the outside air. She slowed and hunched over her arm. “Shut up,” she hissed to nothing. “Shut up!”

Andrew wondered if the scents reminded her of home. The Pacific Northwest air was unmistakable, sharp with the tang of rain still locked in the overcast skies. The lack of humid summer heat was a blessed relief, too.

“Come on.” Andrew took a gentle grip on her upper arm, supporting a good deal of her weight when she didn’t quite straighten her legs and walk properly. “I was suggesting you
act
helpless. No need to be so convincing.”

A female Were waited a little way into the parking lot by her BMW. She held herself like an alpha secure in her power, lounging with her ass hitched up on the trunk, one foot on the bumper, while the Were with her paced. Andrew assessed the woman, undoubtedly Michelle, first. Unless Andrew did something overtly threatening, the man wouldn’t move on him without his alpha giving the word.

She was an interesting one, at first glance. She was short, but rather than wearing ridiculous heels to compensate, she dressed to fit her small frame. It gave her a look of compact, concentrated power. She had her arms crossed over a medium-sized chest, and dark hair in loose waves to her shoulders. Her cheekbones spoke of Latina blood.

“You didn’t say it was the Butcher coming with the girl,” the man with her said sullenly, drawing Andrew’s attention back to him. It was hard to tell if he was beta or not—the fact that he was the only one there suggested it, but Michelle’s manner toward him was slightly cold. Perhaps he was standing in for the beta for some reason. The man looked weather-beaten, and his angular block of a jaw carried a load of stubble that roughed the planes of his face even further.

“You wouldn’t have gotten a veto even if I had,” Michelle said, and dropped to her feet. She extended a hand to Andrew. He shook it, keeping his grip light. Not a good idea to go flaunting your strength when you were on a strange alpha’s territory. Especially a woman’s. She seemed confident enough so far, but he wouldn’t have blamed her for feeling a little hunted as the only female alpha in North America.

The man with her didn’t offer his hand. “What if the girl’s just an excuse for him to get out here?” He moved closer to his alpha, protective.

Michelle made an annoyed gesture to cut off the man so she could concentrate her attention on Silver. “I’ve made my decision. This is not the time to argue, Craig.” She returned to stand in front of Silver. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

“I lost it,” Silver said, pain washing back over her face.

Andrew pushed her to the side of the car before she could get too far gone. “We should get her back to your house before she gets bad again.”

Michelle nodded, and opened the back door for Silver. Andrew nudged her in and then went to the other side. He discovered he’d missed more silent argument. Craig held the front passenger door open for him, rather than getting in himself.

It might be better to stay near Silver, but Andrew needed this alpha’s favor, and she’d maneuvered him into the higher status position in the car for her own reasons. Probably to remind Craig of his place. It seemed counterproductive to maneuver himself out again.

Once in his seat, he turned to watch Craig’s face as he climbed in next to Silver. The man looked worried, like he expected Silver to start sobbing or ranting at him any moment. Andrew couldn’t resist tweaking him. “Don’t worry. If Death likes you, you’re in.”

Craig’s expression turned acid. “What?”

“Don’t ask me. Ask her.” Andrew enjoyed confusing people as inflexible as Craig seemed.

“Death got tired of all the flying. He’s hunting.” Silver’s lips quirked at Andrew. “I’ll ask him when he gets back.”

Michelle pointed out a few local sights on the way to the pack house, but otherwise they didn’t really talk. Andrew liked her manner. The confidence she projected was restful. Even in suburbia, the scenery wasn’t bad, either. Everywhere was so green. Huge evergreens loomed up in the empty land between light industrial parks or in the yards of older neighborhoods.

The house surprised him, when they arrived. All the other packs he’d encountered favored houses large enough to hold the whole pack, and huge yards filled with trees to prevent prying neighbors. This was just one house among many in a development, with a postage-stamp yard. It must have been built in the last decade, as the squeeze for space in the city was felt. One car was pulled along the sidewalk, and two in front of the three-car garage. Someone had put a kennel in the side yard in some vague effort to be discreet, at least.

Michelle drove into the third open spot on the driveway. No one was so crass as to peek from the pack house windows, but when Michelle opened the door an awful lot of Were had tasks that seemed to require them to either be in the foyer or pass through it slowly. Their attention went first to Silver, with her striking white hair, but it wasn’t long before Andrew felt the weight of their stares. Roanoke’s enforcer and the Butcher of Barcelona right on their doorstep was the end of the world, obviously.

One young man straightening the tangled mess of people’s shoes and boots in a cubby smelled of surprise, not fear. He set the sandal he was holding down on the cubby, away from its mate, and grinned at Andrew. “Dare!”

Andrew frowned at the Were. His dirty blond hair was shaggy over his forehead, and he was taller than he should have been. Or taller than Andrew remembered him, Andrew realized. The boy’s scent rang a bell, and he was lanky like he’d finished his last growth spurt before hitting his twenties.

“Ah, come on.” The boy pulled a face of mock disappointment. “Don’t tell me anyone broke my record for being the most colossal pain in your ass since I left.” He came forward and offered his hand. “Tom. Formerly of Boston.”

Andrew left Silver looking amused in the doorway, and took the hand before slapping Tom on the back. The boy tried to throw him off balance with a jerk to their joined hands. Andrew grinned and kicked Tom’s feet out from under him. He kept Tom from falling by holding on. “Jackass.”

“Dick.” Tom got his feet back under him and released Andrew’s hand with a smirk. “You still have that squeaky toy I sent you as a thank-you for posting my bail at the pound?”

Andrew snorted. He’d forgotten that. He couldn’t recall any cub he’d busted more times after his Lady ceremony for stupid hijinks, but you could say this about Tom: he never endangered any Were secrets by shifting once he’d gotten himself into trouble. He just hunkered down and waited for someone to come fish him out. Even the times Andrew had beaten his ass to teach him a lesson, he’d absorbed it with good humor.

“I thought you were on the road loning it for the foreseeable future,” he said, eyeing the boy. He’d grown into himself a lot, and looked more graceful in his size now.

“Fell in love,” Tom mumbled, tipping his head until hair fell forward into his eyes. “So I got permission to join.”

Michelle coughed, and Tom seemed to realize that he was keeping a guest in the doorway. “C’mon in,” he offered, gesturing through a side archway into one of the living areas.

It looked much more lived in than any such room in the Roanoke house, where Sarah’s decorating scheme had added coordinated paint and window treatments. This room had two battered couches with matching slipcovers but different profiles beneath, and books and magazines and bills scattered over most flat surfaces. Michelle escorted Silver to a couch and gave Tom and another girl a pointed look—it was probably their responsibility to keep the place tidy. They hurried to corral the clutter into the next room where the guests wouldn’t be invited.