“That Ferris wheel looks terrifying,” I said.
“I think it looks like fun,” Dean said.
And it was—Dean kissed me at the top of the wheel, his kiss hard and demanding. He pulled me up against his chest with one hand on the middle of my back, pressing me against him so I could feel the hard plane of his body. His tongue swept my mouth, pulling an almost involuntary moan from me. His heat invaded me, swirled through me, melting my muscles until it seemed as if his hands on my back and in my hair were the only things holding me upright.
I couldn’t wait to see what Liam was going to do. I didn’t know if the three of them were sharing information in what seemed so far to be a relatively friendly competition, but it was clear to me that they were working hard to outdo one another.
I was surprised when, after a quick trip upstairs to check my makeup and hair, I went downstairs to meet him and realized that Liam had not brought any kind of vehicle. No car, no motorcycle. Not even a horse.
Okay, so I wasn’t really expecting a horse. But at this point, and it wouldn’t surprise me if he showed up with a carriage designed to outdo his rivals.
After all, my current situation proved that anything could happen.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I thought maybe we could take a walk, get to know each other a little.”
After the elaborate dates the others had planned, I was a little relieved to realize that Liam didn’t have anything spectacular prepared.
“And you’re not from San Francisco, are you?” he asked.
“Nope.” I shook my head.
“You should see your territory, then, get a sense of the other packs the area, see what you’re going to be dealing with as alpha.”
We walked around the SoMa district. Liam was the perfect tour guide, offering information and history. For dinner, we wandered through a park full of street food vendors, trying seafood and empanadas—and everything I didn’t finish, Liam did.
It could be useful to have a werewolf around, I thought.
“Have you ever ridden on a streetcar?” Liam’s voice was playful, his eyes twinkling.
“Not since I was a kid—probably the last time my parents brought me to San Francisco.” For the first time, it occurred to me to wonder if not visiting a city that was so close to us in some ways might have been because of the werewolf issue. Apparently, my parents had made trips here every winter to be part of the convocation. But they had never actually told me that.
At some point, I would have to deal with my anger at them for helping put me in a position of not knowing about the pack that I had belonged to all my life.
But now wasn’t the time to worry about that. “Lead on,” I said.
Liam took my hand and tugged me toward the streetcar. “Be ready to hop on,” he advised.
In the end, he ended up hauling me onto the streetcar with him, both of us laughing as I fell against his chest.
When Liam kissed me, it was soft, exploratory. He, too, burned with that werewolf heat, but he applied it carefully, his lips searching out ways to please me, finding my most sensitive spots and planting tiny kisses there. He moved up and down my neck, sending shivers all through me. When his tongue found mine, they danced as he again searched for what made me happy. He traced the shell of my ear, gently taking my earlobe between his teeth for a scant second before pulling me in closer.
I went up to my apartment completely unsatisfied. This time, I was distraught, too—tomorrow morning I would have to choose which of these men I would take as my mate, as my co-ruler, really.
And I had no idea how I was going to choose.
I had less than twelve hours to make my decision.
As I closed the door to my bedroom, considering the last few days, my stomach clenched.
How can I possibly choose just one of them? When I’m very attracted to each of them.
I understood exactly why my uncle Desmond had chosen these three men to be his comitatus. Owen, with his reasoned rationality, able to think through problems and come up with solutions quickly and calmly. Dean, with his wry sense of humor, his ability to find the humor in everything, to lighten the darkest situations. And Liam, with his kind heart, and his compassion for everyone.
Owen would bring order and precision. Dean would bring humor and passion—out of the bedroom as well as in. And Liam would give me gentle kindness and tranquility.
And the sex with any of them would be astounding.
How can I possibly give up any of that?
Together, they made the perfect man.
Somehow, I didn’t think werewolves were all that good at sharing.
I slipped between the sheets of the bed in this still unfamiliar room, and then tossed and turned. My body ached with unfulfilled desire. I knew no matter which of the men I chose, part of me would long for the other two.
I finally fell into a fitful sleep well after midnight. I had come to no conclusions, but I hoped my subconscious would offer a solution before the morning.
Fairies are quiet. I don’t know what woke me. Maybe the click of the door closing, or the soft tread of a footstep on the floor. Nothing loud enough to wake me on any normal night.
I knew even as I sat up that there was someone else in the room with me.
I barely had enough time to gasp before a hand came down over my mouth, stopping my scream. I twisted and kicked out, determined to get away, but the cold metal of a needle pricking my upper arm stopped me.
Everything got fuzzy around the edges, the black of night closing in, becoming an even deeper darkness as I fell back against the pillows and my consciousness slipped away.
Ten
I awoke to the cold taste of metal in my mouth. Everything was still a blur, and I blinked, trying to figure out where I was.
When I tried to move, my arms were constricted. I was bound hand and foot to a chair. Something heavy draped across my shoulders. As I wiggled, trying to get out of it, it clinked.
A metal chain of some kind? Why did someone bother to tie me up with ropes and a chain?
A voice behind me said, “Don’t even try. You’ll hurt yourself.
I craned my head around as far as I could and caught a glimpse of a tall, slender man. He wore jeans and a gray T-shirt, but something about him was… off.
He doesn’t look entirely human.
“I’m guessing you’re one of the fairies?” I was proud of how steady my voice stayed, despite the fear that had swept through me at the realization.
“You’re smarter than you look.” The fairy strolled around to stand in front of me. “You’re not much of a replacement for Desmond, are you?”
I didn’t know what to say to that, so I opted for silence.
As I examined the room surrounding me, the terror clenching my stomach only grew. From what I could see outside the single window, I was in a basement. There were bars over the only exits—bars on the door, bars over the window, a fairy guarding me, and ropes and chains binding me.
I glanced back at the fairy, who was watching my inventory with a vicious smile.
“Not much to work with, is there?” he sneered.
“Seems like a bit of overkill,” I observed.
“Still, those chains must hurt,” he said.
I tried not to let my confusion show. Why would the chains hurt me? I mean, they were a little heavy, but they weren’t particularly tight. I wasn’t sure the ropes were tied all that well, either. The fairy hadn’t really done great a job of restraining me—though probably the bars on the window and door would aid in keeping me here.
If only I could find some way to use the chains to my advantage.
“You are a cool one, though,” the fairy said. “Maybe Desmond’s choice wasn’t entirely stupid.” He crossed his arms and rested his chin on one fist. Tapping his lips with his forefinger, he mused, “Those hotheaded advisors of his could use a little wisdom.” He grinned evilly. “Maybe a little cooling down. I think a good shot
of winter ought to do that.”
Winter. He was a fairy from the Winter Court. I wished I had asked my comitatus for more information about the winter fairies.
Maybe somehow that information could help me, anyway.
“You’re not the leader, are you?” I asked.
“Why should it matter?”
“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” I worked to make my tone as condescending as possible. “You’re a little too eager to try to rattle me,” I continued. “Whoever is in charge of this operation isn’t here yet—but he or she will be coming soon, right? Because as the alpha, I deal only with the boss. I’m sure you understand.”
I could see my barb had hit home. Whatever was going on, this guy didn’t have any serious role in it. He was a lackey.
I’d often wondered what I would do in a dangerous situation. I was kind of pleased to discover that I kept my cool, stayed calm in the face of potential danger.
My theory that my guard wasn’t in charge was borne out moments later when the barred door slammed open and a woman swept in. She was tall and thin like the fairy who stood in front of me, and she had long, flowing white hair. I couldn’t tell if the hair color was the result of age or chemicals—or if it was a natural blonde so pale as to appear white.
Her face was carefully made up to highlight her enormous blue eyes, and I couldn’t put her age at anything more specific than somewhere between thirty and sixty. Like the other fairy, she wore contemporary clothing—but unlike his jeans and T-shirt, her long, ice-blue skirt and white blouse were obviously expensive.
While I’d been observing her, she had been examining me, too.
“Who is this?” she demanded of the other fairy.
“It’s the new alpha of the other pack—the one you wanted us to pick up for you.” My captor stuttered and stammered as he spoke, his anxiety in front of this woman telling me more about her status than anything else could have.
“Those chains are not affecting her at all,” she said. “This is pure silver. If she were the new alpha, she would be in agony. Why do you think we used the silver chains?”
“But she has to be the alpha. I saw her with the three wolves in the council. I’ve been following them.”
The woman walked around me, her fingers twitching in a complicated pattern. The air around me seemed to grow thicker, harder to breathe into my lungs, full of static electricity.
“My, my, my.” With a motion faster than my eye could follow, she swept her pinky finger along my jaw, drawing blood with a sharp fingernail that I belatedly realized was covered with metal, like a blade that she wore over her finger.
She blinked and tilted her head, her brow wrinkling in confusion as she peered at the fake nail. Then she held the nail up to her mouth and licked it, her pink tongue darting out delicately to lick the blood off.
“What are you?” she asked in tones of wonder as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “Because my magic suggests that you are a werewolf. Your blood tastes like a wolf’s. But silver doesn’t bother you….” Her voice trailed off.
“Do we need to go back and try again, my queen?” the other elf asked nervously.
The Fairy Queen waved one hand in the air dismissively. “No, no. I think you might be right, after all.” She turned her full attention on me. “I do believe you are a werewolf who’s never shifted. I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Her attention turned analytical, and clinical, even, as she continued gazing at me thoughtfully. “Oh, the experiments I will be able to do on you.”
She spun on her heel, her skirt flaring out around her. She called back over her shoulder as she marched toward the door. “Do not tell my husband what we’ve got here. He’s busy with his own wolves and he would destroy my plans with his ham-fisted attempt at control. I have no interest in watching her die by his incompetence.”
“And if she attempts to escape?”
“Stop her any way you can. But if you kill her, you’ll be following her into the grave. And quickly.”
She left through the door and I glanced up at the fairy, who was pale and sweating and shaking.
“Your pack has a female alpha, too,” I said.
“She is nothing like you monsters.” His denial was swift and fierce.
“But she is definitely the one in charge.”
Also, she didn’t want me to die. And she and her husband—the Winter King the comitatus wolves were concerned about—were fractured.
That gave me an upper hand over my captors, even if they didn’t realize it.
I am going to get out of here.
But even as I began formulating my plan, a strange scuffling outside the door distracted me. For the second time, the barred door swung open, clanging against the wall.
Eleven
Owen burst through the door, looking like an avenging angel, his eyes glowing bright green. He was flanked on either side by two enormous, beautiful grey wolves—Liam and Dean.
I had never been so thankful to see anyone in my life, even if my first words didn’t exactly convey that.
“I was about to start escaping,” I said peevishly.
But my words were lost in the growls of the two wolves, who leaped simultaneously, bowling the fairy guard over onto the ground. They stood atop him, their fangs bared, occasionally snapping their teeth together, barely missing his face.
Owen rushed to me and reached out to try to pull the silver chain away. A sizzling noise flashed through the room when his hand touched the chain, and he hissed and jerked back.
“Don’t bother with that. It doesn’t affect me. Just get these ropes off.” Owen nodded and pulled a pocketknife out. Some part of me, possibly a slightly hysterical part, wanted to giggle. Of course, Owen had a pocketknife and a handkerchief and probably anything else a well-prepared Boy Scout might carry. Apparently, even one who could turn into a wolf at will.
It took a couple of minutes, but he finally sawed through my wrist bindings. I shook off the ropes and flung them away from me, unraveling the silver chain from around my body as Owen released me from the ropes around my ankles.
When he’d finished, I stood, and he eyed the chains I now held.
“Once you take the bite, your immunity to silver will disappear,” he warned.
I frowned. That means no more silver jewelry, I realized. I shook the thought away. That was a minor issue now.
“How did they even get me?” I asked.
“They poisoned the doorman with silver. It took hours for him to regain consciousness. But once he did, he was able to help us follow the fairies’ scent to this building.”
“Please, don’t let them kill me,” the fairy who’d been guarding me begged.
“What should they do?”
Liam and Dean glanced back at me.
“Alpha?” Owen’s question froze me to the ground. If I was going to be the pack’s alpha, I realized, I might be taking the werewolves into war with the fairies.
And it might be a war that the fairies were actively trying to provoke, I realized.
No. I won’t strike the first killing blow.
I might finish a war they started, but I wouldn’t be the one to start the killing.
“Bring him with us,” I ordered. “We need to find out what this guy knows. There’s something going on in the Winter Court—something between the Fairy King and Queen. She’s the one who ordered my kidnapping, not him, and this fairy is loyal to her.”
Owen didn’t say anything, but I saw the gleam of something like approval in his eyes.
“Wait here.” Owen swept out of the basement room and returned in a few moments carrying a chain of his own.
“Iron,” he answered my question before I asked it. “Fairies are as allergic to it as we are to silver.”
He approached the fairy, who began whimpering when he saw the iron chain. “No one who is willing to chain a wolf with silver should be worried about what iron chains might do to him,” Owen said callously.
My jaw clenched
at the sound the metal made when it touched the fairy’s skin. That kind of sizzling made my stomach hurt in sympathy. But then I remembered the vicious smile he gave me when I’d woken up, and I shoved my sympathy down hard.
As we left the room, we filed upstairs, where several more pack members were waiting, some in human form, some in wolf form. One of the pack members glanced at the fairy stumbling along in iron chains and took off his hoodie to drape over the fairy’s shoulders, hiding the chains from any casual observer.
“Do we have someplace to keep him?” I asked. Owen nodded.
“There’s a containment room in the basement of your building,” he said. “We’ll have to fit it with iron to make sure he stays contained. But we can do that.”
He glanced down at the other two comitatus members, then back to me. “We’ll need to figure out where to keep him during your full-moon shift, though.”
“The containment room is for wolves who are shifting for the first time?”
Owen turned out one hand in a half shrug. “That, and for members of rival packs taken prisoner—though it’s rarely used for that these days.”
I nodded thoughtfully. “But as soon as I’ve shifted after taking the bite, we can move him back into the containment room?”
“Definitely.”
I stepped up beside the fairy as we reached the door that led out of the building. I wrapped my arm around his waist and pulled him in tight next to me. I felt the chains clanking together under the jacket, and the fairy winced.
“If you cooperate,” I said, smiling up at him as viciously as he had smiled at me when I had woken, “I will allow you to live. Someday you might even get to go back to your court—though I don’t know if you’ll want to since I plan to let my pack do whatever it needs to get information from you.”
The worst part of that moment was that I didn’t even know if I meant it. I’d started my threat as just that—a threat. But once I said it, I realized that it might be true.
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