Deceived By the Others

by Jess Haines

  Oh, the Moonwalkers had made good on the promise to help me afterwards, but we hadn’t had much interaction. Aside from a personal visit from Rohrik to apologize for smashing my ribs into itty bits, I’d had very little contact with any of that pack since I got out of the hospital.

  The Moonwalkers and Sunstrikers had never gotten along. This cab driver had once referred to the Sunstrikers as a bunch of good-for-nothing show-offs. Chaz had never had anything nice to say about the Moonwalkers either, though his comments were usually far more disparaging.

  I glanced at the ID card plastered between the seats to get the cabbie’s name, something I’d neglected to do before. “Look, Mario, not that I’m not grateful for the help, but it’s pretty freaking creepy that you guys may or may not be shadowing me. Are you the only one, or are there others in your pack watching out for me?”

  “Mark Roberts has been helping you,” he pointed out, making me blush at having forgotten the obvious connection—my accountant, the balding father of three, who had given me cut-rate deals on my corporate books and personal taxes ever since I saved the Moonwalkers. “He likes you, you know. Talks about you once in a while when the pack gets together. There are a few others, but I don’t think it’s my place to discuss this with you.”

  I made a noncommittal sound in answer and turned my attention outward, staring out the window at the passing cars and buildings. It wouldn’t be much longer before we’d reach my tiny apartment in Terrace Heights. My lease was up in a few months. Recalling that also brought up memories of plans made over wine and candlelight to move into Chaz’s much bigger brownstone. The thoughts were jarring and painful, and I might very well have started crying again if I hadn’t been so exhausted by my ordeal. It was too soon to think about moving again, too soon to be making plans that didn’t involve a future with that lying son of a bitch.

  My returning anger warmed me to my chilled core. I’d have to be very careful of my choices over the next few hours. I would meet with Rohrik Donovan and get a feel for what he was like and what his plans were for me. Since the supernatural grapevine would no doubt be buzzing with the news of my infection before long, as soon as my meeting with Rohrik was over I’d call Arnold and swear him to secrecy. I couldn’t risk his accidentally slipping the news to Sara or my parents. That would be followed by a call to Royce to see what, if anything, this might do to change or void our contract.

  It was the first time I’d thought of the vampire in a while, other than as a tool to use to hurt Chaz. Royce was older than dirt, and had a streak of possessiveness. He might be tempted to do something to take revenge on the Sunstrikers.

  Then again, if I was lucky, he might have come across a cure for lycanthropy in all the years he’d wandered the Earth.

  Either way, I needed to talk to him. Somehow he’d known that something bad was going to happen on this trip. Even Jack had known. I needed to dig deeper and find their sources, and see if I could use them for my own ends. I wouldn’t ever let myself be hurt like this again.

  “We’re here.”

  I’d been so deeply engrossed in my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed that we’d arrived. I dug my house keys out of the bottom of my purse while Mario went to the trunk for my suitcase, pulling out a cell phone and dialing with his free hand as I led the way. I half-listened to his end of the conversation as he gave a brief account to Rohrik of what had happened and where to find me.

  Once upstairs, Mario stopped at the doorway to my apartment, setting my bags down. He made me promise I’d open the door for Rohrik when he came, and not do anything “rash” (a kinder word for “stupid”) in the meantime. I settled before my computer with a cup of coffee as I contemplated what I would say to the Moonwalker pack leader when he arrived, and waited.

  Chapter 24

  Rohrik Donovan looked more like a construction foreman than a seasoned werewolf pack leader. Though it hadn’t been that long since the last time I’d seen him, I detected a little more salt than pepper in his short hair this time around, and there were more laugh lines around his eyes and mouth than I remembered. When I opened the door, he was looking casual in jeans and a plain white T-shirt, his dark brown eyes widening slightly at my no doubt frighteningly pale features.

  I stepped back to let him in. He hesitated at the threshold of my apartment door, and I belatedly remembered the seal keeping out any Others I hadn’t keyed to it. He didn’t protest as I took his hand and pulled him inside. The magic barrier Arnold had installed for me, after some nasty vampires had tried to break in, grudgingly let him pass; I could feel it sticking to his skin and clothes like invisible glue as I drew him through it.

  “Ms. Waynest,” Rohrik spoke first, cautious, unsure. His deep voice was soothing, mellow, but with the rougher edge of a Jersey accent and a smoker’s husk. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “You, too,” I replied, gesturing for him to take a seat. “Coffee?”

  “Yes, please. Black, one sugar, if you would.”

  Heathen. What’s coffee without real cream?

  I got him his drink, refreshed my own, and we settled across from each other at the table. The silence stretched too long, neither of us quite knowing where to begin or what was safe to say. It felt uncomfortably like a stare down, so I looked away first. He cleared his throat and tossed the opening salvo.

  “Mario tells me you’ve got a problem we might be able to help you with. I’d like to know what happened, if you don’t mind telling me.”

  I sipped my coffee to buy time and compose myself. My voice still wavered despite my best efforts to stay calm while relaying my story.

  “I’m sure you remember Chaz. We were making plans for the future—our future—together. Part of that plan was for me to meet the rest of his pack and go somewhere I could get to know them without interference. We rented some cabins upstate. We thought if I could handle seeing the pack as they really were, maybe I could handle being a part of it someday. Chaz didn’t know, but I brought a contract with me. I signed it, but never got up the courage to show it to him.”

  “You planned to be one of the Sunstrikers?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. I was more interested in showing good faith and commitment to Chaz than being furry—no offense.”

  He nodded, thick hands cradling the coffee mug as he lifted it to his lips. “None taken. Go on.”

  “I caught him with another woman. Another Were. After I found them together, I ran back to my cabin and had to get a couple of the other pack members out who were on the verge of shifting. It’s a long story, but I didn’t get their chains off in time, and one of them scratched me.”

  I didn’t say anything else after that, uncertain, not knowing what else he’d need to know or what I’d be comfortable enough to tell him. We barely knew each other for all that I’d saved his life. I wasn’t comfortable speaking about Chaz’s betrayal yet, though I’d no doubt be railing and ranting about it as soon as I had a chance to wrap my wits around all the crazy twists and turns my life had taken in the last twenty-four hours.

  He stared at me evenly across the table, the chocolate hue of his irises darkening. I tensed, but he gave no other sign of apprehension; his fingers curled loosely around his mug, and the set of his shoulders remained relaxed. It both relieved and bothered me that he wasn’t more upset about my predicament.

  “So you’ve been injured, possibly infected, outside of a contract. Have you informed any authorities?”

  “No,” I said, mollified that he was more interested in the technicalities than the dirty details of Chaz’s infidelity or what had led up to the scratches on my arm. “I wasn’t sure what to do at first. I only just got home. I’m afraid to go to a hospital for the vaccination shots.”

  “Don’t bother,” he said, holding up a hand. “It’s not worth it. The chances of the shots stopping the infection from spreading are far lower than they would have you think, and it will only endanger you if your name goes on a list of possible lycanthropes. We’ve lost thr
ee of our newest pack members since January; it wouldn’t do to have you become a statistic, too.”

  Chilled, I nodded and hid my discomfited grimace by taking another long sip of coffee. I very nearly choked on it at his next words.

  “It could be war between the Moonwalkers and the Sunstrikers if we take you in. I’m not sure that I can risk it.”

  I grabbed a stray napkin from the middle of the table and blotted my lips, coughing my breath back so I could speak. “Why? Chaz burned his bridges with me when he cheated on me. Why couldn’t you take me?”

  Rohrik met my gaze, his own reflecting a great deal of regret in the face of my confusion. “You may not have been contracted to him, but Chaz was grooming you to be a part of his pack. He wouldn’t take it kindly if we offered you a place in our ranks after he’d spent so much time and effort on you. Werewolves are very territorial, Ms. Waynest. He’d see it as an unforgiveable encroachment if you joined our pack instead of his. We outnumber the Sunstrikers by a great deal, but they are still the third largest pack in the state. Relations between us are already quite strained, and I can’t see how this would improve matters.”

  I carefully placed my coffee down in front of me, rubbing at my burning eyes with both hands. Not that long ago, I’d have sworn I’d rather be dead than furry. Now I was upset because the werewolves wouldn’t have me. Funny how these things turn out.

  “Okay.” I paused to compose myself before continuing. My life was turning into one long comedy of errors. If I kept up at this rate, I’d be a homeless werewolf begging for spare change from the tourists in Central Park before the month was out. I needed to come up with a plan. “I see what you’re saying. I know this is a risk for you. But I’m willing to use every resource I have to back you up, too. If you’ll help me, I have friends in The Circle, in another Were pack”—if the Nightstrikers could even be called as much—“and I can also ask for help from Alec Royce. I can bring a lot to the table, even if it’s only temporary. If I am infected and you really don’t want me to stick around, then just help me get through the first time or two so I don’t hurt myself or someone else when the change comes. Please? That’s all I’m asking.”

  Maybe it was the helpless despair to my tone, or the “please” I tacked on at the end. Rohrik reddened, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing away.

  “I can do that much. I can’t promise we’ll keep you in the pack, but we’ll help you through the change and with sorting out how your new needs will fit into your lifestyle.”

  New needs? There was a thought that didn’t bear much scrutiny. It was my turn to look away, fingers tightening on my mug as I thought about Chaz’s talk of “needs” in the car.

  “How soon will I know … ?”

  He would have made a good doctor. He didn’t flinch at my question, remaining calm and level as he listed off all the things that made the blood turn to ice in my veins.

  “Without blood tests, you won’t know for sure right away. Symptoms don’t usually appear until seven to ten days before the next full moon. You’ll crave rare or uncooked meat. You’ll find your temper snapping at things that at any other time would be insignificant. Some environmental triggers, mostly scents, may make you feel nauseous or uncomfortable. As it gets closer to the full moon, you’ll develop a sensitivity to loud noises and may run a fever. Bright lights will hurt your eyes. The first change is painful and disorienting, so don’t wait to contact me if you start showing symptoms. Too much stress, and you might change before it’s time. Do you still have my number?”

  Unable to speak around the lump lodged in my throat, I nodded.

  “Good. There’s no reason to be alarmed. We’ll be here to help you. It’s better this way, I think. You’ll see what it’s like to be in a normal pack. The Sunstrikers are an unstable bunch, so I can’t say I’m terribly surprised at what’s happened. You do have my sympathies. If there was a way for me to keep you on as one of us, I’d do it. Perhaps once you are strong enough, you can even start your own pack. We’ll support you if that’s what you choose to do.”

  Calling the Sunstrikers unstable was like calling Chernobyl an unexpected and unfortunate occurrence. Words were insufficient for expressing how screwed up it all was. I could appreciate Rohrik’s attempt at politeness, but it wasn’t enough to calm the sudden rage I felt at his carefully worded consolations. The Sunstrikers would pay for this. Every last one of them.

  “Thank you, Rohrik,” I said, extending a hand across the table. “I appreciate the offer, and I’ll think about what you’ve said. I’ll call you once I know for sure.”

  He clasped my hand in both of his own, warm, calloused fingers engulfing mine in a reassuring grip. “Don’t be afraid to call on me if you need someone to talk to. I know this must be stressful for you. If the wait becomes too much, let me know, and I’ll see if I can arrange for some tests to be done by someone who won’t betray you to the authorities.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered, slowly drawing away. He let me go, pushing back from the table and rising with a deep sigh.

  “I’m sorry there isn’t more I can do. Get some rest. Contact me when you’ve had a chance to think things over, and I’ll brief you on some of your legal options for how to deal with the Sunstrikers. I’ve met a few decent attorneys who would likely love to take on your case.”

  My lips peeled back in something that might have been a smile. The lack of expression on Rohrik’s face led me to believe it wasn’t as cordial as I’d meant it to be. “Thank you again. I’ll be in touch.”

  He nodded, giving me one last look that spoke of calculation as much as concern, before seeing himself out. I remained at the table for a few minutes after he was gone, mulling over what he had told me and the offers he had made.

  Waiting three weeks to find out if I was infected was going to drive me around the bend. Until then, I’d somehow have to keep it a secret from my family, Sara, and the media. I’d have to consult Arnold while making it crystal clear that he was not allowed to tell anyone. I’d have to contact Royce, too. Not only to find out how the hell he’d known that I would face trouble while on vacation, but to find out if and how my new “condition” might change things between us.

  Whether this altered or voided my contract with Royce was a question I wasn’t terribly eager to have answered, but was something I needed to know. Certain aspects of those papers gave him rights to all of my stuff, including my interest in H&W. I needed to make sure I wasn’t putting Sara at risk. If she needed to buy me out to escape him, I’d need to let her do it before any of this went public. Before Royce could do anything to stop me.

  The thought put my stomach in knots. Vampires and werewolves did not get along. Would Royce consider me his enemy now?

  That thought once would have frightened me. Now, it filled me with an empty sort of sadness, not what I expected to feel upon realizing that we might be playing on opposite sides of the supernatural sandbox. I’d used his name to hurt Chaz, but in truth the vampire had been a better friend to me than the Sunstrikers ever had. Considering his needs, Royce might even have a doctor in his pocket who wouldn’t mind doing some off-the-books testing.

  That was probably nothing more than wishful thinking on my part. The bond we shared had faded but never completely broken. My ability to view him as nothing more than a callous beast had been skewed after drinking his blood. I still felt he was a prick at times, but he no longer frightened or repulsed me—which was exactly why I made such a strenuous effort to avoid him. Thanks to the bond, it was too easy to see him as a man, not a monster. If I allowed it, I’d be no more than another puppet dancing to the tune he played.

  I’d put off calling him until later. Much as I dreaded it, I needed to tell Arnold first. He needed to hear it from me instead of through his connections in the supernatural community.

  The big question was whether he would do as I asked and keep my new condition a secret from Sara.

  With no small measure of trepidation, I got the m
age’s number from an old e-mail stored in my computer, picked up my cordless, and dialed him.

  Chapter 25

  Arnold picked up after a couple rings.

  “Arnold, it’s Shia.”

  “Hey, how was the trip? Are you home?”

  His cheerful greeting made me feel even worse for what I was about to say. Gripping the phone tightly, I wandered over to the window and peered between some cracks in the perpetually drawn blinds. Ever since the paparazzi had decided my personal life was of interest, I’d needed to be extra vigilant about keeping the interior of my apartment closed off from prying eyes and long-range cameras.

  Which was a sudden, frightening reminder that Jim Pradiz had been intent on a story at the beginning of my trip. Had he caught wind of anything at the lodge? Followed us back to the city?

  “Shia?”

  “Sorry,” I said, shaking my head and gripping my free hand into a tight fist. “I’ve got a situation—”

  “Oh, hell. You didn’t break my computer, did you?”

  I paused. Tragic as the loss was, his busted computer wasn’t what I was worried about at the moment. Time to use some evasive tactics.

  “That’s not what I’m calling about. Are you alone? Sara’s not with you, right?”

  “No, she’s on a job. I’m at home. What is it?” The alarm in his voice was palpable. Little I could do about it at this juncture. “I can keep a secret, Shia, but I can’t promise she won’t find out some other way. She’s a good P.I.”

  “I’m not just talking about Sara here. No one can know this. Not your coven, not Sara, not my family—no one.”

  “Yeesh, what’d you do? Blow up a building?”

  “I’m not kidding around. They absolutely cannot find out from you under any circumstances. Understand? I need your word.”