Scratch the Surface (Wolf Within)

by Amy Lee Burgess

  When I went to fasten the chain around my throat, he was there to do it for me and I gazed at us both in the mirror. He was so attentive and the way his eyelashes brushed his cheeks as he concentrated on his task, produced a strange longing inside me.

  I’d rolled my hair into a sleek French knot held in place with a rhinestone clip. I looked far more sophisticated and at ease than I actually was.

  “You are so beautiful.” Murphy sounded wistful as he stared at both of us in the mirror. “I look at you sometimes and I can’t even breathe, Stanzie. That’s how beautiful you are. I remember the first time I saw you coming to the table that night at the Great Gathering and I thought, Jaysus God, she’s gorgeous.”

  I flushed. Every time he complimented me I had no idea how to take it. None at all.

  “I thought you were so handsome,” I said. “And bored,” I added with a laugh. “And I seemed to bore you even more than you already were.”

  “I wasn’t bored with you, I was intimidated,” he said with a grin.

  “Oh, hell, Murphy, you and your Irish blarney. That’s such bullshit.” I clasped a silver chain link bracelet around my left wrist. Now I doubted the fact he’d thought I was gorgeous that first night. I hadn’t intimidated him the first night. He’d left the table the minute it had been revealed my bond mates were dead because everyone believed I was drunk behind the wheel. I’d made no effort to defend myself and I knew he’d been disgusted. He’d as much as told me later during the Gathering.

  His dead bond mate, Sorcha, had been a fiery-haired red head and I’m sure she had been really, truly beautiful and people didn’t just tell her she was beautiful to compliment her, they actually meant it. I wished I could see a picture of her, but then again I didn’t. She was already stiff enough competition without me feeling absolutely hopeless in the face of her beauty.

  “There’s not enough Irish blarney in the world to convince you I’m not using any when I compliment you.” He gave me a rueful smile then moved to switch off the gas fireplace.

  I slid a few rings on my fingers and waited for him to put on his jacket.

  It was five minutes to six and time to run the gauntlet.

  Chapter 6

  We found Kathy Manning and Councilor Allerton seated together on a light brown sectional sofa beneath a large framed picture of the Hartford skyline at night. The photo had been artificially enhanced and tiny electrified lights had been inserted around the buildings with a realistic and modernist result.

  The long, low coffee table in front of the sectional sofa was spread with plates of cheese and crackers, bowls of mixed nuts, an olive-and-pickle tray and a plate of three different kinds of handmade canapes—slices of cucumber topped with smoked salmon and cream cheese, cheese and olives topped with maraschino cherries speared to small round pieces of homemade sourdough bread with toothpicks, and ham, cheese and stuffed olives on cracked wheat crackers.

  A drinks cart had been wheeled in and left in a strategic corner. It held iced buckets of champagne and white and red wine, gin, whiskey, rye and mixers.

  Allerton had a plate heaped with all three kinds of canapes in one hand, a glass of chilled Riesling in the other.

  Kathy had swapped her conservative wool trousers and vest for a severe, high-necked black halter dress with velvet bands around throat and waist, sheer black stockings and patent leather pumps. Silver bracelets were laddered up one arm, a diamond tennis bracelet on the other. Her bond pendant, a duo of a diamond and an emerald, dangled on a long silver chain below her small breasts. She nibbled on a piece of Gruyere and a tumbler with rye and soda on a cocktail napkin rested on the end table beside her.

  Classical music, one of Mozart’s sonatas for flute and harp, played softly from a CD player housed within a discreet cabinet with glass doors.

  In a small alcove at the back of the room was a beautiful thirty-six string Celtic harp. My heart did a little queer thud against my ribcage. Surely, they wouldn’t.

  Kathy noticed my stare and smiled.

  “We were hoping, Stanzie, that you might play for us tonight. Possibly after dinner.”

  Murphy gave me a look of surprise. I had never mentioned I could play the harp.

  “I haven’t played in over two years, Councilor. I’m sorely out of practice.” Remarkably, my voice remained calm but really I wanted to shriek in outrage.

  “I’m sure you’d play beautifully. Isn’t this harp almost like the one you had?” she wondered.

  “The one I found hacked into a million pieces along with the rest of my stuff after the funerals?” I snapped before I belatedly tried to get a grip on myself

  Murphy’s face took on a thundercloud expression of outrage, while Kathy winced delicately and reached for her rye and soda.

  Allerton said nothing. He continued to munch on his damned canapes.

  “Your stuff was hacked to pieces?” Murphy demanded. “By who? That bloody bastard of an Alpha?”

  “I don’t know,” I returned in as calm a tone as I could muster. “Whoever did it, did it during the funerals. Jonathan was there the whole time so I don’t see how it could have been him.”

  “But I bet he ordered it done,” said Murphy balefully.

  I wasn’t so sure. Vaughn was the one who had truly known how much my harp meant to me. I’d always had the sneaking suspicion that most of the wreckage was camouflage for the destruction of my harp.

  Vaughn had been my duet partner, and, he’d been in love with Elena. He’d confessed as much to me one Sunday night when we’d gotten drunk together after practicing most of the afternoon.

  She’d never returned his affection, save as fondness for him as a pack mate. Her love was unreservedly for me and Grey.

  I’d felt sorry for Vaughn until I saw my harp in shattered pieces. He’d been late to the funeral, arriving agitated with his tie crooked and the appearance of having thrown on his clothes in a terrible rush. He hadn’t even combed his hair.

  He’d given me one malevolent, resentful smile that had chilled my blood and made me glad he was on the opposite side of the caskets. Everyone was, except Councilor Allerton who had made it a point to stand close beside me.

  Murphy stalked to the drinks cart while muttering imprecations in Irish under his breath, and made a gin and tonic. He poured me a flute of champagne and handed it to me, still cursing.

  “It was a long time ago,” I said gently. I could smell his anger. His face was flushed and I thought he might crush the glass containing his gin and tonic if he didn’t fling it at the wall first.

  “It’s the goddamn principle of the thing, Stanzie,” he argued with me in a low, growling tone. “I can’t believe these people. Are they animals? Because that’s what they act like in every story I hear about them. I saw it myself at the Gathering. Those two arseholes went out of their way to knock into you and spill red wine all over your dress that night. I saw the whole damn thing. I only wish I’d kicked the shit out of that bastard when I’d had the chance.”

  “I hope you’ll restrain yourself tonight, Liam,” said Allerton mildly, but his blue eyes held a distinct warning.

  Murphy made a snarly noise I guessed meant he would try not to lose control.

  Allerton continued to gaze at him for a moment then picked up his wine glass.

  “And you’ll not be forcing her to play that damned harp if she doesn’t want to,” Murphy snapped at Kathy Manning, gesturing at her with his glass. It was really rather rude, but Kathy simply smiled at him the way one would smile soothingly at a snarling dog and kept her prudent distance.

  I gulped at my drink and wondered if getting drunk would be good or disastrous.

  The doorbell chimed and I nearly doused myself with champagne.

  Kathy Manning leaped gracefully to her feet and when she walked away, I saw her dress was just as severe in the back as it was in the front. That woman gave nothing away but smiles and baked goods.

  I heard familiar voices in the foyer. A gust of cold air blew
into the room, making me shiver. Murphy moved closer to me.

  A moment later Kathy returned to the room. Behind her were Callie, Vaughn and Peter.

  Vaughn and Peter wore dark blue suits. Vaughn had a white shirt and blue tie, Peter, always more flamboyant, had on a pink shirt and blue tie. He had his blond hair slicked back in 1940s gangster style and a pink handkerchief peeped out of the breast pocket of his suit jacket.

  Vaughn had grown a goatee since I’d last seen him and let his hair grow out. It was nearly as long as Grey’s had been and the same dark brown. His eyes were brown too and he was clearly nervous, scanning the room as if looking for hidden assassins, his narrow mouth clamped tightly shut.

  Callie’s strawberry blond hair was piled high on her head and, even though she had on lots of makeup, she looked pale and unwell. Her dress was emerald green, skimming her knees in a silky froth. Its thin spaghetti straps sewn with rhinestones glittered under the soft glare of the Christmas tree lights.

  Allerton had mentioned she’d suffered a series of miscarriages since becoming Alpha last year. I suspected she’d recently had another one. Her blue eyes were puffy and all the makeup in the world couldn’t conceal how tired and dispirited she looked.

  Despite myself, my heart went out to her. We had ten years of history between us and it was hard to forget she wasn’t my friend anymore.

  Peter and Vaughn hovered close to her. They all stared at me and Murphy, stopping a few feet away from where we stood.

  There was an awkward silence, made even worse by Murphy’s unfriendly glower.

  I was damned if I would break it. Murphy would kill me, for one thing, and they were the ones who should be ashamed of themselves for another.

  Like a curious elf, Kathy looked between us all, waiting to see who gave in first.

  It was Peter. Vaughn still clearly held a grudge and Callie looked as if she might burst into tears if she tried to speak.

  Peter stepped forward, his face scarlet, and held out his hand to me.

  “Hello, Stanzie. It’s goddamn apparent we were wrong and we owe you a big apology. You don’t have to accept it, but I wish you would.”

  He was not a handsome man, but he had a definite appeal. He was built like a bull and he worked out all the time, which only enhanced what he already had naturally. I remembered the way he would lift me up and pin me against the wall with my legs wrapped around his muscular waist when we’d slept together. He’d made me feel as though I weighed nothing and he was two inches shorter than me.

  Vaughn wasn’t classically handsome either, but he had pretty boy looks, as if he could have been in a boy band when he was fourteen. He was tall and thin and had a natural agility that turned heads when he walked into rooms. All the teenage girls at gatherings tended to flock around him and follow him around, giggle over him in corners. He’d been asked more than once to initiate girls through their first shift so they could participate in the Great Hunt at the Regionals. He always treated the girl with sensitivity and style, and watched after her in wolf form, guiding her through her first time with finesse.

  I remembered him as a gentle lover, who always took care of me.

  Peter and I had only had five encounters in ten years, but Vaughn and I had slept together several times a year. I liked to give Elena some space with Grey. We made an awesome threesome, in and out of bed, but I’d thought they’d both deserved some dedicated time together without me, just like Peter and Vaughn deserved one-on-one time with Callie.

  “Hi, Peter.” I took his hand and, for a moment, tears burned my eyes. He was also affected. He had to clear his throat before he spoke again and he squeezed my hand more than he actually shook it.

  “Stanzie, I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice husky and shaking.

  “You damned well should be,” muttered Murphy from beside me, and Peter flushed scarlet to the tips of his ears.

  “I know,” he said, turning to him. “I’m Peter Gardiner, one of the Alphas of Riverglow. You must be Stanzie’s new bond mate.”

  “Yeah,” allowed Murphy. He even shook hands, which was more than I thought he’d do. “Liam Murphy. Mac Tire.”

  “Our new pack mates, Colin and Devon, come from Mac Tire. The English branch of it. Do you know them? I guess it’s an off chance considering the size of the pack, but maybe you do?” Peter was desperate to make a good impression and some kind of connection with Murphy, but he could not have tanked more spectacularly. I winced as Murphy began to glower and I thought it could only be a matter of seconds before steam burst out of his ears and nostrils.

  “Him I know,” said Murphy and, amazingly his voice was controlled. No steam appeared. He was visibly hanging onto his temper, but that was no doubt because Jason Allerton had moved to stand behind the Riverglow pack mates, ostensibly to greet them, but also, I’m sure, to keep an eye on Murphy.

  The doorbell chimed again and Kathy tripped off to answer it, cocktail glass in hand.

  For some reason Peter either didn’t notice Murphy’s reined-in rage or was deliberately ignoring it, maybe in hopes if he didn’t acknowledge it, it would go away. He obviously didn’t know Liam Murphy.

  “Well, that’s awesome. You’ll get a chance to hang out with him again tonight. He should be here any minute. That might even be him at the door.”

  “I can’t wait,” deadpanned Murphy, and Allerton cleared his throat.

  Everyone turned to him and he shook Peter’s hand then Vaughn’s.

  Callie approached me, her blue eyes huge in her pale, unwell face. “Hi, Stanzie,” she all but whispered. “I’ve missed you.”

  Murphy didn’t say a word, but I could just about read his mind. I knew he was cursing her out in Irish. Of course, I don’t understand Irish, but I could still get the gist.

  “Hi, Callie,” I said. She moved forward as if to embrace me, but I held out my hand. I didn’t think I could bear to hug her.

  She half grimaced, half smiled, and shook my hand.

  “This is Liam Murphy, my bond mate. Murphy, this Callie Olstrom, one of the Alpha triad in Riverglow.”

  “Evening,” said Murphy. His jaw had to ache, the way the muscles bulged from him grinding his teeth.

  “Nice to meet you, Liam,” whispered Callie. “You’re very lucky to have a woman like Stanzie for a bond mate.”

  “I know,” he agreed, and he even thawed enough to take her hand and halfway smile as he did. “Your loss was my gain, it seems.” Allerton cleared his throat again.

  My heart did a sick little stutter in my chest as Jonathan and Nora walked in, trailed by Kathy.

  Jonathan swaggered, and I heard Murphy mutter something foul beneath his breath. Allerton moved to stand beside him and I took a step closer to Murphy myself.

  He surprised me by putting his arm around my waist. I took advantage of that and pressed myself against him, so close I could smell his cologne. And his anger.

  Jonathan was dressed to the nines in a navy blue pin-striped suit with a blindingly white linen shirt and a fancy black tie. His shoes were cheap, though. Cheaper even than his suit, which was off the rack, probably the clearance rack at that. Obviously, he thought he made quite the debonair figure in it.

  He was attractive, but his looks were cheap as his suit and I knew when he moved into middle age and beyond, he’d get jowly and rough. Now, in his prime, he had an obvious sort of handsomeness but he knew it and that killed most of his appeal for the majority of women.

  His hair was so black it had blue highlights and it was evident he had some Native American blood in his ancestral tree. He was tall and almost as muscular as Peter, with a barrel chest and a narrow waist. He had a flashy silver wolf’s head belt buckle that he wore with every pair of pants he owned. I hated that damn wolf buckle. It was as bargain basement obvious as he was.

  By contrast Nora was emaciated, her collar bone jutting out so sharply it hurt to look at it. Her cheekbones were hollowed and prominent, her wrists so thin I could have encircled them wit
h my thumb and forefinger and had inches to spare.

  She tried to disguise how painfully thin she was with a geometrically patterned black-and-white dress in an Empire style. It swam on her, and I wondered how long it had been since it had fit. Her legs were like sticks and her dark hair looked brittle—in need of a deep, penetrating conditioner.

  There was hectic color on her pale cheeks and she clung to Jonathan’s arm as if she might fall if not supported.

  As she wobbled closer and I saw her unfocused gaze and slack mouth, I realized she was well on her way to being shitfaced drunk.

  I’d be damned if Jonathan wouldn’t have embraced me in a bear hug if not for Murphy’s arm around my waist. Instead he gave me a great big wet kiss on the cheek and boomed, “Hello there, Stanz! Long time no see, eh? Guess we were wrong about you, weren’t we? I have to say though, things looked pretty black against you and all along it was my senile old grandfather who fucked everything up, not you. Well, shit happens, huh?”

  Murphy cocked his head as if he were trying to replay the words Jonathan had just uttered because he couldn’t possibly have heard right the first time around.

  Nora tittered a high-pitched yelp of laughter, which only made things worse.

  I wiped my cheek with my fingers, disgusted and pissed off.

  He’d been drinking too. Stupid asshole. One of them had driven a car here and they’d been damned lucky to get here unscathed. The irony, of course, was not lost on me but I took the high road and held my tongue.

  Murphy’s grin was absolutely terrifying. It made me nervous as hell even though it wasn’t directed at me.

  “Liam Murphy, Stanzie’s bond mate.” He took the initiative to introduce himself but did not hold out his hand.

  Jonathan held out his but Murphy made no move to take it and, after an awkward moment, Jonathan let it drop to his side.