Weregirl (12 page)

The handsome normal finally nods, dropping his arms from their fold across his chest. “I just wanted to see you again,” he says.

“I know.” I shiver, uncontrolled shaking I finally suppress with magic. “I'm sorry it has to be this way. But it does.” Maks backs off as I turn to the door and ease it open. “Go with Isabelle. And Sage.” I meet his eyes for the last time, see and feel his sadness, because it's my own. “You can never, ever come back here. And we can never see each other again.”

I leave the room with Maks at my back before Sage can argue. At least, I imagine he would have argued, though I clearly saw and felt he'd given up.

I'm so intent on Sage's safety, I almost miss the hurried approach of the two witches who pin me just outside Sage's door. Nataliya and Fedir Makosky are both clearly upset, the coven leader shaking with pent-up anger.

“Your Highness.” She bobs a quick curtsy to me. “Forgive me, but I must speak with you.”

What now? I can feel movement in the room behind me, know it will only be a matter of moments before Isabelle emerges with Sage.

“Of course,” I say, trying to lead the pair further down the hall. But Nataliya is too angry to accept my gentle hand on her arm.

“We have enjoyed a strong relationship with you and your people in the last five years.” Nataliya's black-painted fingernails click together as she clasps her hands together. Fedir hovers behind her, looking sick and a little afraid.

“We have,” I say. “And we are grateful for that relationship.”

“Then why,” Nataliya says, voice rising, “do you allow such abhorrent behavior from your pack members?” The shrill tone to her voice carries down the hall and to the stairs. I wince and try to shush her, but she is wound up. “They have no right to treat us with such rudeness and disdain, nor to bring unwarranted battles in supposed fights of honor.”

I stare at her in blank incomprehension a moment, too many things in my mind to figure out what she is talking about. Until I catch a whiff of Caine and understand.

“Coven leader Makosky,” I say in a growling voice, “I assure you, anyone who has spoken ill to you or your people will suffer the consequences.” Maybe this is the means to my end. If Nataliya complains to Oleksander, it might add weight and send Caine packing. “I will take care of the offenders personally if you are willing to take your complaint to my grandfather.”

Her attitude shifts immediately, from anxious anger to relief as she released her hands and gripped mine. “I knew it had to be a misunderstanding,” she said. “Or a stray act of arrogance. I didn't wish to act against them personally when several of my people were attacked. The werewolf’s claims the fights were provoked are clear lies. My people would never do such a thing against yours. But I will not tolerate werewolves tormenting or abusing my coven members again, not after one of the young witches involved lost an eye during a fight. King Oleksander will hear of this immediately if that will put an end to the issue.”

“How long has this been going on?” Caine has only been with us a short time.

“Several days,” Nataliya says with a huff of irritation. “I was about to speak to his majesty when they disappeared. But they are back and my patience is gone.”

Days? What were they doing here in Yutsk for several days when the palace was so close? New anxiety wakes in me as I think of Caine and his pack. There is much more to them than I imagined at first, I'm sure of it now. And I can't help but believe they are a threat to me and my grandfather.

Want to believe. No difference.

“My grandfather and I hold you in the highest regard,” I say. “Forgive us for not being aware of this problem.”

Nataliya's fingers caress my hand. “It's not your fault, my dear,” she says. “And I really didn't want to create trouble.” I do like the kind coven leader. She reminds me a little of Syd's mother, Miriam, though much less forceful. “We debated contacting Femke and the Council, but I wanted to bring it to you first.” She only then seems to notice what door we stand outside, her eyes widening. “The young man asking about you,” she says. “Should I have sent him away?”

I shake my head with a sigh. “But if you could keep his presence here quiet,” I say, “I would be most grateful.”

Nataliya pats my hand and lets me go. “We both have problems to deal with,” she says, a sparkle returning to her eyes. “You care for mine, and I will ensure yours doesn't leave this hotel.”

From my horrified expression, she must know I worry she's suggesting something permanent. “I only mean,” she says as the door eases open and Isabelle peeks out, “your secret is safe with me.”

I trust her and her coven. “Thank you,” I say.

Isabelle and Sage exit the doorway, his huge backpack strapped over his shoulders. He won't look at me, head down, and I keep my distance, putting Nataliya between us. I nod to Isabelle who turns for the back of the hall and the exit stairs to the courtyard.

Just as a door further down the hall opens and Jean Marc and Kristophe step through and my worries multiply a hundredfold.

***

Isabelle comes to a halt, turning back to meet my eyes. She and Sage stand trapped between the Dumont brothers and my little cluster of weres and witches. I'm frozen, not sure what to do. They are supposed to be gone, banished by my grandfather. I didn’t give the Dumonts another thought, not after Oleksander told them to leave. What are they still doing here? The boys come closer, Jean Marc's cleverness obvious in the tiny smile on his face. He knows something is going on. Kristophe is just along for the ride, as usual, but it's only a matter of time before the second Dumont brother figures things out.

Nataliya stiffens beside me. “Those two,” she spits in Ukrainian. “And their foul father. I would have them leave, as well. Perhaps Femke needs to be notified.”

I nod, my wolf gaining a firm grip on my shock. “Good idea,” I whisper as Jean Marc and Kristophe close in. Isabelle backs up, Sage with her, until we're all one group. Why doesn't she just take him out past the boys? This makes things appear even more suspicious.

“How lovely to see you, Charlotte.” Jean Marc's husky voice stirs old memories I don't have time for right now. While the boys rarely partook of Andre's amusements, when they did, the older of the two was the most enthusiastic.

“Step aside.” I hold his gaze. “Can't you see some guests are trying to leave?”

Jean Marc shrugs while Kristophe looks Sage up and down. “I don't see a problem.”

“I do.” Nataliya's anger is back. “I've had enough. You two pack your things. You are no longer welcome here.” She chops her hands down as though cutting them off.

“Careful, old woman,” Kristophe says with a terrible smile. “Our father warned you about your tone.”

“And I warned him about how the two of you behave outside your own territory.” Her accent is so thick in her rage even I almost miss her words. “Go! Now!”

They push past, roughly, though Jean Marc smiles down at me with his soullessness clear in his eyes. “Sorry, excuse us.” One of his hands rises to touch my cheek. I wait for it, anticipate it, ready to liberate his arm from his body the moment he has the nerve to actually make contact.

I don't get the chance. Sage lunges for Jean Marc and slaps his hand away, fury and protectiveness radiating from him.

“Don't touch her.” His green eyes darken like an angry sea.

Jean Marc's eyebrow rises as he stops and looks first to Sage, shaking in anger, then to me. I know my face must be white, but I can't help it. Not when understanding flashes on Jean Marc's face. He smiles wider, handsome face ugly with darkness.

“A normal, Charlotte, really.” He tsks softly. “What would your grandfather say?”

My worst nightmare come true. One of my most hated enemies knows the truth and there is nothing I can do about it. Except get Sage out of here and somewhere safe.

But will he ever be safe again? As I look into Jean Marc's black eyes, I know he will make it his mission to find Sage and use him against me. Things could not possibly get any worse.

“Boys.” Andre's voice echoes down the hall, the scent of werewolves reaching me and I know I'm wrong, so very wrong, and that things are about to reach disaster proportions.

Jean Marc looks up and meets his father's eyes as I writhe inside, not knowing what to do. Caine is watching, his grin back, eyes locked on Sage. I know he smells us together, because the scent is all over me, inside me. Andre gestures to his boys, the pair of them joining their father.

“You were told none of our people would serve you.” I have to salvage this somehow, distract them from Sage. Andre shrugs in his expensive cashmere coat while Caine crosses his big arms over his tattooed chest.

“So your grandfather said.” Andre's hand falls on Caine's shoulder. For a moment, the wereleader's face flashes disgust, but it's gone quickly. Still, I smell his annoyance and dislike and wonder what is really going on between these two. Roman and Viveca appear behind them, a few others of Caine's pack filling the hall, blocking the front exit. That only leaves the back way. Can I be optimistic and believe Caine doesn't have people watching the rear?

Don't be a fool, Charlotte. You know he does.

“You've pushed matters further than you should have.” I ignore Andre in favor of Caine. If I can eliminate one problem, I can deal with the rest. My wolf calmly compartmentalizes my issues, helping me relax into my next move. “The Makosky family is our ally, not your plaything, nor will your claims of fighting back in self-defense get you anywhere with me or your king. We know them far better and trust them more than we ever will you.” I gesture at Nataliya, doing my best to keep magic related language out of my conversation. “Considering Nataliya and Fedir have been kind enough not to summon the authorities to deal with you, I would think you would tread lightly, Caine.”

He flashes his teeth at me, flexing his muscles as though to impress me. I'm not impressed, not even a little.

“I do what I want,” he says. “Princess. You can tell your grandfather,” he layers the word with derogatory bile, “the next time he comes after me, he'd better kill me.”

“I wouldn't trouble him with taking out your brand of trash,” I snarl. And stop, realizing I'm pushing things past where I want them to go. A fight here, now, would expose Sage to the truth. I have to shield him, if I can. His ignorance is his only means of complete escape. If anyone thought he knew who and what we really are... his mind—and possibly his life—would be wiped out.

I turn quickly to Maks, see his distress.
Take Sage
. I send the words as powerfully as I can. Maksym's magic isn't strong and he has trouble hearing me. But Isabelle's doesn’t and she nods, grasping Maks by the arm, taking Sage's in the other. Caine watches them retreat, Sage struggling a little with Isabelle, hissing whispers at her.
Keep him safe
.

We'll do our best
, Isabelle sends.
But if I have to bite him...
 

Do it
. I let them go, using my physical presence to block Caine and Andre from following. Not that they try, but both watch him leave and I know he won't be safe until he's far away from here. If then. I'll figure out a protection system for him once this is over, but for now, getting him some distance is the best choice.

“Slumming, Princess.” Caine shakes his head. “Who would have thought.” He releases his arms, stretching. “You need a solid bang from a real were to show you what you're missing.”

“You're volunteering?” I snort. “I'm already unimpressed.”

Caine's scowl proves he, like most males, lives by his ego. The hateful stare I receive from Viveca confirms what I've thought all along—she wants him and hates me for his interest.

“Don't waste your effort, my friend.” Andre's hand falls from Caine's shoulder. “She was always low brow, no matter her breeding.”

He can try to ruffle my fur, but my disgust is stronger than my need to fight back. Still, I'm willing to take them on, all of them. And from the way Nataliya flexes her magic beside me, I won't be alone in the fight.

A commotion at the back stairs breaks up the party before it can get started. I glance over my shoulder, see Maksym and a large group of weres coming toward us. When did he summon them? It must be Isabelle’s doing. I almost wish he'd taken his time bringing reinforcements.

I turn and smile at Andre and Caine. “Coven Leader Dumont,” I say. “I hereby declare you outcast from the territory of the werenation. My grandfather’s warning stands. Your complete disregard for our laws,” I gesture at Caine, “and the relationship we have built with the Makosky coven,” Nataliya nods brusquely beside me, “has proven your only aim is to cause trouble for us and our allies.” Andre doesn't try to argue, just smiles his horrible and familiar smile at me. “You will be escorted to our borders and if you are ever seen here again, you will be summarily executed.”

“You don't have the power,” Andre says, voice soft and challenging.

“I do,” I say. “Or, I will, once I've filed a formal complaint with Femke Svennson and the European High Council.”

“A complaint,” Nataliya spits at him, “I shall echo. Now, leave my establishment—and my town—immediately.”

I watch Andre shrug, turn. Jean Marc grumbles something, but his father shakes his head. It should be satisfying to step aside, watch the two Dumont brothers retreat to their room to pack. But it's not, not by a long shot, not with Caine still grinning at me.

“You,” I say. “Return to the palace at once and face my grandfather's wrath for your disloyalty.”

Caine barks a yipping laugh, more wolf than man, and leaves, his pack trailing behind him, sway of his shoulders and hips accentuating his arrogance. I've done nothing to knock down his ego. But hopefully Oleksander will listen to me now.

If he doesn’t kill me when he finds out about Sage.

I turn to Nataliya, accept her hug. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” She releases me and steps back, magic crackling. “My coven will ensure they leave,” she says. “I'll have my people escort them personally.”