by Petra Landon
“He’d better be” Raoul replied in a hard voice.
“You’re hoping that this will nudge the Guardian and his friends into ignoring Tasia in their future quests.”
“Yes” Raoul was blunt. “They’ll be back hunting the wizard he seeks once he’s managed to free himself from his current entanglement. That I’m sure of.”
“Tasia did survive his handiwork from the night at the Registry” Duncan remarked thoughtfully. “How do we explain that? He’s probably aware of that by now. The Guardian might get suspicious at a low level Magick surviving what he did to her.”
“He’ll assume that we got to her in time. The Pack has good doctors on call and we made sure that she was given medical attention in time. It should mitigate his suspicions.”
A moment of silent reflection was sufficient for Duncan to agree that Raoul had anticipated the fallout of his night’s work at the Registry pretty well. Raoul had always been good at getting under the skin of a Magick – he fundamentally understood what made Chosen of various persuasions tick. It’s what made him so good at Pack and Chosen politics, when he elected to engage, that is. Most of the time, Raoul chose to detach himself from it all.
Currently the Chosen world, not only in this city but also in the wider macrocosm, was abuzz about the Guardian who’d fallen so spectacularly from grace. Duncan, who made it his business to keep abreast of such gossip, had made sure to keep his ear especially close to the ground this time. Whispers abounded of how the Guardian had been punished and humiliated by an Alpha he’d managed to get on the wrong side of. The Guardian had dared to hire non-Pack Shifters to mug wizards on the Alpha’s stomping grounds. The rumors insinuated that these rogue Shifters had then attempted to even personal scores by handing over a young female wizard to the Guardian. The young wizard in question had been under the protection of the local Pack and the Alpha, the legendary Raoul Merceau, had stomped into the local Wizard Registry to teach the Guardian a lesson. A successful one at that – he’d rescued the young wizard, broken through the Guardian’s powerful magic to thrash him soundly and handed him over to the local wizards to stand trial for his crimes.
“It should work, Raoul” he concurred quietly. “But if you’re right, it implies that they have a sample to match the DNA of the person they seek” Duncan warned.
“Or they have access to the DNA of a parent” Raoul retorted for he’d had plenty more time to reflect on this.
There was a short pause as both men stared at each other. Tasia Armstrong would never be completely safe as long as there was a DNA sample to match hers out there.
“I intend to find out what the Guardian was up to - verify whether they’re searching for her in the first place” Raoul said abruptly. “The dossier you put together for the witchling talked of a community college in Wisconsin and some vague references to a childhood in North Dakota?”
Duncan nodded. The private investigators hadn’t had much luck in tracing Tasia’s childhood. She’d done a good job in keeping those years under wraps. He hadn’t pushed for a more thorough investigation once Raoul’s curiosity had seemingly been appeased after the deal he’d made with Tasia.
“I think it’s time we probed the early years some more. She talked of a high level wizard father – the one who trained her to use her powers. If we can identify him, it might explain more of her circumstances. And perhaps even hint at why the Guardian is so intent on hunting her.”
“I’ll get them on it” Duncan said quietly.
“Instruct them to be very discreet. You were right about that, Duncan. I don’t want them to rattle any skeletons in her cupboard. If I’m right about the Guardian, she might already be in a world of trouble.”
“I’ll warn them to back off unless they can get the information discreetly” Duncan agreed with Raoul. After all, whatever façade Tasia Armstrong had built up had worked successfully for her all these years. Until she’d opted to risk it all for Hawk, that is.
“I’ll try get more information on the Guardian and his potential allies from Faoladh.”
“Is that wise, Raoul?” Duncan cautioned him. “Faoladh doesn’t do those kinds of favors without expecting something in return.”
“I will have something to tempt him with” Raoul stated confidently. “A piece of information I’m hoping to gather with the witchling’s assistance.”
“You’ve decided to maintain the Pack’s relationship with her then?” Duncan’s query was a result of Raoul’s last tempestuous encounter with the wizard in question. Although he was not entirely surprised at Raoul’s about turn, given their new suspicions about the danger she might be in.
“Yes. I’m going to teach that Guardian a lesson he’ll never forget and the witchling is going to help me” Raoul said grimly. “That’s the secondary reason though” he confessed, his gold eyes meeting Duncan’s wise gaze candidly. “I cannot help her if she walks away from the Pack.”
“And you intend to help her?”
“Yes” Raoul nodded decisively. “If anyone needs it, it’s her! She has no one else. She’s made some good friends here but not one capable of providing the kind of assistance she needs.”
Duncan’s wise brown eyes stared back perceptively at him.
“I owe it to her, Duncan” Raoul said quietly. The gold eyes held a sober light in them.
“For Hawk?”
“Yes” Raoul paused for a moment. “And for me. You were right. I let my prejudices rule my head with her – it pushed her to walk away. She’s had a very rough time of it from the moment those Shifters chose her from their list to Mfector the warehouse. She’s desperate and shaken up - doesn’t quite know who to trust and which way to turn. I could have chosen to be less of a bastard and more aware of her concerns.”
There was a short pause. Duncan remained silent. He knew what drove Raoul here. Raoul had, after all, once found himself in a similar situation.
“I’ve been there, Duncan. Desperate and in over my head with no way out while a relentless adversary kept at me. When I had almost given up hope, you walked in from the cold to help me. Perhaps it’s my turn to be her Duncan.”
“This is more than I ever did for you, Raoul.”
“You saved my life” Raoul stated softly. “This girl needs someone like you to watch over her.”
“I don’t deny that Tasia Armstrong is in sore need of someone to watch over her. The question is - are you sure that she’ll be amenable to working with the Pack and you again?” Duncan asked, his shrewd gaze searching Raoul’s face.
“Aren’t you the same guy who told me that I’ve plenty of charm when I bother to exert it” Raoul quipped in amusement. “I plan to take your advice and use some of it on her” he added arrogantly.
Tasia watched the proceedings in the Pack Room in something of a daze. In a detached way, she couldn’t help but marvel anew at the Alpha’s ability to dominate a room so effectively with his mere presence. A weekly powwow between the were-packs that made up the larger Pack was in progress while Tasia watched unobtrusively from her seat in the corner. The two dozen or so Shifters in the room discussed their business animatedly while the Alpha kept an eye on the proceedings from his favorite position by the mantel. He said very little, only stepping in with a sharply voiced command on the few occasions when things got a little heated. Hawk was one of the more vociferous Shifters while Duncan, seated beside him, seemed content to let his Second speak for his were-pack. None of the Shifters in the Pack Room paid her any heed.
It had been six days since the night the Pack had swooped in so dramatically and even more inexplicably to her rescue. Sara, Hawk and Caro had taken turns to keep watch while Tasia lay unconscious for the better part of four days. The Pack doctor, who’d treated her before, had given Tasia a transfusion of blood before prescribing a regimen of fluids and rest. His reassuring diagnosis had not assuaged her friends. They’d been worried enough to keep vigil by her bedside. Tasia had awakened on the fourth night, only to be told the story
of her dramatic rescue by Caro. Hawk had filled in the details for her as only someone who’d been witness to the actual events at the Registry could while Sara had regaled her with all the rumors and whispers currently rife within the Pack.
The doctor had insisted that Tasia rest for a few more days at the Lair before he felt comfortable discharging her. Once conscious, Tasia’s first order of business had been to get in touch with her employer – the only remaining one she had since her second gig had dried up. To her dismay, her old position at the restaurant had already been filled although the manager had assured her of a part-time gig in a few weeks. This bit of news had hit Tasia particularly hard. Already shaken up by recent events, the news of this particular loss had completely swept the very ground away from under her feet. To be kidnapped and held powerless by a Guardian was the stuff of Tasia’s worst nightmares – the only prospect more frightening to her was to be at the mercy of the Blutsaugers. The news of her unemployed status, coming as it did on top of the terrifying and baffling kidnap attempt, had been the last straw for her. Life, it seemed, had suddenly come full circle for her. She’d failed, despite her best efforts, to start afresh and forge a new life in this city. After almost four months here, she was back to where she’d started; with no job, no prospects and no apartment for she couldn’t afford the little studio anymore.
Everything that she had attempted to build here lay in ruins including the Chosen affiliations she’d tried so hard to nurture. Her burgeoning relationship with the Shifters lay in tatters and her name was probably mud with the wizards to boot. Tasia had unwittingly been the cause of a game of brinkmanship between a Guardian and the Shifters that had left a wizard humiliated. Despite Caro’s reassuring words, Tasia knew that the wizard world would not be quick to forgive or forget her. Also if her friends were to be believed, she’d suddenly acquired a new notoriety. This would make it hard to get Mfector gigs now. She found herself suddenly left with no alternative but to start over again, in a new city and possibly even under a different identity.
Sensing her quiet despair but not the reasons for it, her new friends had redoubled their efforts at cheering her up. Tasia had discovered a sudden and new appreciation for the fact that any confidential discussion was impossible at the Lair – it prevented her friends from asking her questions she wasn’t yet ready to answer. When the doctor had finally given Tasia the all clear this morning, she’d made the decision to move in temporarily with Caro while she pondered her next move. All her ties to this city would be erased for good once she packed up her meagre belongings and gave up her tiny studio. Except the emotional ones; to the friends that she’d made here. Hawk and Sara had pleaded with her to stay with them but Tasia had not relented. She was sure that Caro’s standing in the wizard community would not suffer by having Tasia as a house guest but she wasn’t sure that the Shifter twins would be forgiven such a transgression by their Alpha. In the end though, it had been Duncan who had successfully persuaded Tasia to stay on at the Lair for one more night to meet with the Alpha.
Duncan had come by in the afternoon to inquire after her health and extend an invitation from the Alpha for a chat this evening. Tasia’s first reaction, one borne of instinct, had been to decline the invitation. She was in no shape, physically or emotionally, for another knock-down-drag-out encounter with Raoul Merceau. Even her curiosity at the Pack’s inexplicable rescue of her had abated considerably with her quiet despair over the situation she found herself in. Duncan had chimed in quietly before she could refuse by gently suggesting that it might be to her benefit to hear the Alpha out before she made the decision to break all ties with the Pack. An unspoken undertone in his voice had reminded Tasia that the Alpha had come to her rescue at the Registry when no one else had raised a finger to help her. At Duncan’s mild reproof, Caro’s confession that she’d asked the Alpha for assistance as her last recourse when every other avenue had failed had rung pointedly through Tasia’s mind. Ashamed by her small mindedness, Tasia had accepted the proffered invitation. Unlike every other time when the Pack had come to her aid, this one had been completely altruistic. That she knew. She had after all walked away from the Pack after proclaiming their debt to her repaid. The Alpha would have been very much in the right if he’d refused to bestir himself for her. Instead he’d unhesitatingly accepted responsibility for her at the first hint of trouble and willingly tangled with an influential Guardian for her. Tasia was a wizard and well understood the consequences of his aggression towards an influential, well respected and powerful wizard official. The Alpha had known when he engaged the Guardian that any clash had the potential for far reaching consequences on the Pack’s relationship with local wizards as well as the wider wizard world. The least she could do was thank him in person for what he had done, Tasia realized, contrite at her first instinct to walk away without any further engagement with the Alpha.
She’d presented herself at the hour intimated only to discover a meeting in progress inside the Pack Room. The young Shifter at the door had surprised her by ushering her into the room after asking her politely to wait a few minutes until the Alpha was done.
“I hope that you’re fully recovered, Miss Armstrong?” inquired an unfamiliar voice.
Lost in her thoughts, Tasia glanced up with a start to find an older Native American gentleman with a flowing white braid addressing her. He was the Were-Alpha who had so effectively shut down the red-haired Owen O’Brien during her first time in this room.
“Yes, thank you. I’m fine” Tasia responded, taken aback by his concern. He’d once inquired politely about Sara after the attack by Justin Markham on her friend. Besides that, Tasia had had no other interaction with the Were-Alpha or his companion, a white-haired grandmother with an old-fashioned hairdo who in turn inquired after Tasia with a motherly smile. Tasia couldn’t help but note that the look in her faded blue eyes belied her harmless appearance. Tasia recognized her as another Were-Alpha, the one who’d successfully helped ratchet down the tension in this room during that memorable visit with Hawk. Hawk, striding towards Tasia, seemed to check himself abruptly on catching sight of her companions before greeting them politely.
“Maartje” he greeted the older lady with a smile before directing a polite, unsmiling but respectful nod at the male Were-Alpha. The contrast between the two greetings was glaring enough for Tasia to raise an inquiring eyebrow at Hawk once the two Were-Alphas had left them. Hawk shrugged in response, mouthing ‘later’ at her.
“Alph asked me to usher you to his private room. He’ll join you in a few minutes” he informed her.
Luis Beltran directed a polite greeting at her as Hawk escorted her to the Alpha’s Room. The overtures from the Shifters, in stark contrast to her previous experience with them, struck Tasia. Three Were-Alphas being so affable to her was a mystery that managed to penetrate even through Tasia’s absorption with her own affairs.
“Hear him out before you make any decision, Tasia” Hawk appealed to her once they were in the privacy of the room and before Tasia could question him about the Shifters’ sudden civility towards her.
“And if it carries any weight, Sara and I will be over the moon if you decide to stay in San Francisco. We’re both very fond of you” he added quietly.
So he suspected that she might be planning to run, did he. Hawk was no fool. Tasia wished fervently that she could work out a way to stay on in this city. Leaving it would mean giving up Caro, Sara and Hawk – three friends who’d come through for her so spectacularly when she’d needed their support the most.
Tasia had no time to acknowledge Hawk’s words as the door swished open and Raoul Merceau strode in. He checked himself at the sight of Hawk and Tasia with their heads cozily together on the couch at the other end of the room. Tasia had made a decisive beeline for the couch to ensure that she didn’t find herself in the position of facing the Alpha across the width of his large desk or have him loom over her as he stood by the door – two positions that had connotations for her t
hat she didn’t intend to repeat again. Hawk glanced up at the quiet swish of the door, jumping to his feet with a smile.
“Alph” he acknowledged easily, moving towards the door after a last lingering glance at Tasia.
The Alpha’s gold eyes scrutinized Tasia across the expanse of the small room. As the heavy door swung shut behind Hawk, he sauntered over to take a seat across her. For once, Tasia met the gold eyes with composure. Weighed down by the fatigue and weariness of singular defeat, she had no fortitude left to fear or ponder the enigma of Raoul Merceau. She’d thank him and be on her way, secure in the knowledge that she was unlikely to encounter the Alpha ever again. Once she left this city, any chance meeting with him was highly unlikely for they moved in completely different circles and inhabited very disparate worlds.
“Thank you for the Registry” her eyes met his directly, the sincerity and depth of her gratitude clear. “Caro told me what you did for me.”
The gold eyes studied her enigmatically for a moment before he inclined his head politely in silent acknowledgement of her words. A tiny imperceptible pucker creased his brow, the tiniest hint of puzzlement breaking through the usually still waters of his implacability. Preoccupied by larger worries, Tasia remained oblivious for once to the undercurrents in the room. Raoul was perplexed. Despite her composed demeanor and steady gaze, he sensed the world weary despair that engulfed the young wizard before him. In the past few weeks, he’d sensed a gamut of emotions from her - fear, terror, anxiety, relief, confusion, surprise, shock and even her sense of joy and ease during her interactions with Hawk. Yet he’d never before sensed this forlornness and dejection in her. He wasn’t even sure how he could pick this up from her for there were no physiological symptoms for his extra sensory Shifter senses to process. Yet he did! Raoul was absolutely sure, like nothing he’d ever been in his life, that the witchling, for reasons inexplicable to him, felt overwhelmed by despair.
