by Faith Mudge
Louisa glanced at Lissa, who came out of her corner to stand awkwardly beside Louisa's chair. They laced hands and looked at each other for a moment.
"I had a nervous breakdown," Louisa blurted. "I needed some space."
Seymour pressed his lips together. "I see," he said. "You're all right now?"
"Yeah." Louisa tightened her hold on Lissa's hand. "A lot better."
"You should have stayed in London and seen a doctor," Seymour said sharply. "Or told me, for that matter. But clearly this worked for you. Are you ready to come home?"
Gloria felt Nadine looking at her expectantly. This was when an alpha would step in, take over the fight. Gloria took a mouthful of lukewarm tea instead, and waited.
"Not yet," Louisa said. "I'm finishing the summer here."
"That's good of you, Louisa." Gloria stood up, the ache of the change making her stiffer than she liked. "I'm happy to have you. I'm sorry to interrupt, Mr. Seymour, but I need Louisa to go back to work now. Perhaps you can talk again over dinner?"
He gave her another of those evaluative looks and nodded slowly, standing up too. As he passed Louisa's chair, he reached past Lissa to put a hand on his daughter's shoulder. "I'm glad you're all right," he said quietly.
They all knew when he was out of earshot. Moon reflexes could be useful. Damien, who had been banished for a conversation that required tact, came out of the kitchen, having very obviously been eavesdropping the whole time.
"Well, he's a sweetheart," he remarked.
"I can't believe I said that," Louisa moaned, dropping her head into her hands. Lissa rubbed her shoulder sympathetically. "Did I say I was going back to London too?"
"Not exactly," Eben muttered. "He'll get that out of you at dinner."
"You should have done something," Nadine said tightly, frowning at Gloria. "He can't come here and talk like that."
Gloria just shook her head. "It's Louisa's decision."
Nadine took out her frustration in the kitchen with fiercely chopped leeks, while Louisa and Lissa stood together under the trellis, talking quietly. Gloria set the tables herself, inside. She glanced up and through the dining room's long glass wall she saw the girls lean together, Louisa tilting Lissa's head down for a slow, soft kiss. A few minutes later she came in, looking calmer than she had since her father's call.
"Lissa's going with you," Gloria said, polishing a spoon.
"She's thinking about it," Louisa admitted. "Not until the off-season. She lived in London for a while as a kid, she's not sure if she'll like it again. I don't know if I will. I'm sorry, Gloria. I'm such a mess, I was going to tell him and I just... couldn't do it."
Gloria sighed. She put down the spoon. It was mirror-bright anyway.
"You don't get a choice about the werewolf thing," she said bluntly. "You didn't want it, don't trust anyone who says they do. This is what you are now. It doesn't mean you have to live on a soap box. If you want to speak up, good for you, but it's not your obligation. Do whatever makes it easier." She paused, then added, "For what it's worth, I've never told my parents either. The thought makes me too tired."
She turned her back on Louisa's surprise and continued laying cutlery. After a few moments, Louisa joined her and started folding napkins.
Seven
Graham Seymour did not stay long. Gloria had the strong impression he was the sort of man who did not stay anywhere long except his office; possibly the financial infrastructure of the United Kingdom would fall down without him, or he thought it would, but after a very awkward dinner at which he did indeed try to pressure both his children into returning with him to London (a conversation Nadine derailed by 'accidentally' knocking over a pitcher of water and soaking his crisp trousers) he drove back alone. Louisa had stood her ground on sticking out the summer, and Eben had gone so quiet that it wasn't until morning Seymour realized his son had not agreed to anything either.
"If I'm not in the way," Eben said uncertainly to Gloria.
"You are very welcome," Nadine said decidedly. “Of course you can stay."
"It's up to you, Eben," Seymour said coolly. "You're a grown man." His tone implied exactly the opposite and maybe there were other criticisms hidden there as well, because Eben looked at the ground and Louisa gritted her teeth. But Seymour did not push any further than that; with a last nod to his children, he slid into his sleek silver car and drove away.
Nadine put a hand on Eben's shoulder. "Come and chop onions for me."
She was not happy with Gloria. It was a low-level unhappy that did not come out in Nadine's usual ways, which tended to involve snapping accusations or slamming cupboards until whoever had incurred her wrath broke down and apologized. Gloria knew how to handle that, what to do to make things right. This time it came out in uncharacteristic quietness, not as if Nadine had nothing to say, but was deciding not to say it.
Gloria wanted to confront her about it, and didn't. Louisa was going to leave soon, probably Lissa too. What would it take for Nadine to follow their example? The thought struck Gloria breathless with misery. She escaped the depressingly silent kitchen and sat on the laundry hamper with her head tipped back tiredly against the wall, watching Wellington knead peacefully at a fluffy bathrobe on the floor.
"I can't even rely on you," she said glumly. He was, after all, Lissa's cat, and he was fond of Eben, who slipped him bits of sausage and let him sleep upstairs, though he was strictly forbidden from the rest of the guest bedrooms. He'd probably get over it eventually if they whisked him off to their new lives in London.
Gloria scrubbed her hands through her hair. "I am being ridiculous," she informed the cat, who patently didn't care. "I am going to stop being ridiculous right now."
"Gloria?" The laundry door creaked open and Lissa peeped inside. She smiled when she saw Wellington and went over to pet him. "Hey, Gloria. See, I knew you liked him really."
"I got used to him," Gloria said dourly. "What did you need?"
Lissa's smile faded. "There's someone on the phone for you. I answered and asked all the usual questions, I swear I did it right, but he sounds really mad and wants to talk to you."
Gloria groaned and stood up. She stalked out to the front desk, picking up the phone in full preparation to bite―metaphorically speaking―but the voice on the other end preempted her. "So, am I finally talking to the alpha, or do I need to come over there myself?"
There was a short, hard pause in which Gloria's mental expectations swerved sickeningly left of center, then she said tersely, "Who the fuck are you, and what the fuck do you want?"
Lissa's eyebrows shot up. She looked impressed. Gloria mouthed Get Nadine at her and she sped off towards the kitchen, leaving Gloria listening tight-lipped as the voice replied, casually, "Are you the bitch my boys met in the town the other day? Nice line, 'there's no pack', you think we can't smell or something? There are werewolves all over. Two young females, a couple of older ones, not rocket science to figure out there's more around here. Where are the males? Off hunting, is that it?"
Gloria was a decent judge of character. The boys she had met at the supermarket had been no threat to her; if they had not been so damn rude, she would have felt sorry for them. But it seemed she had misunderstood their motives, because she was definitely talking to an alpha male right now, which meant, in turn, a pack was nearby. He had at least two underlings, potentially more. And packs were not, by their nature, very mobile. When they moved, it was for a reason, and they'd be looking for somewhere to settle.
"What do you think is going to happen here?" she asked. She heard the dark rumble in her voice, the implicit threat that her body was already gearing to follow up. "Let's get down to business. I'm a busy woman. You think you can chase us out? You want to set yourselves up here, you and your boys? The answer's no. Thanks for calling."
She dropped the receiver into its cradle and turned around just as Nadine came in, closely followed by Lissa and Damien. "A pack's trying to move in," Gloria said abruptly. She did not
want to tell Nadine bad news, so the only way she could do it was blunt and to the point. Nadine visibly flinched, and Gloria kept talking. "That was their leader."
"But how did they find us?" Lissa asked urgently.
"If they're very careless," Gloria said, "and I think they are, they were roaming at full moon. The scent of us would be very strong, it wouldn't take much research to work out where it was coming from, and the leader comes off as the confrontational sort." She scraped her fingers through her hair, reminding herself that driving off to find and savage the alpha would not actually solve anything, that it was the wolf's instinct and not her own. "They can't settle here. Too many werewolves in one place, and that would be true even if they wanted to blend in, which I very much doubt they do."
"What's his name?" Nadine asked tightly. "The alpha."
"Michael," Lissa said, before Gloria could answer. "That's what he said."
"No last name?" Damien pursed his lips. "Hm, shouldn't be hard to find him anyway, stranger in town. How about I run a bit of surveillance?"
It was not really a question, since he was already turning for the door, but Gloria snapped out a quick, "No. You're not a werewolf, Damien, but you live with us, you have our scent on your skin. You wouldn't be safe."
Damien made a scoffing noise at the idea of needing safety. Nadine smacked his arm hard. "This is bad," she said, and her voice was intent enough to make him go quiet. "You don't understand. When packs fight, people die. It's vicious."
Lissa blanched. Gloria put an arm around her and squeezed. "It won't come to a fight," she said firmly. "We'll discourage them. They'll move on."
Nadine glared. "Alphas do not just move on. If he sees us as a challenge―"
"He's a person!" Gloria retorted. "He is a man who lives in the same world as the rest of us, and yes, he turns into a wolf once a month, maybe he likes it, but I am not getting into a gang war with a bunch of stupid kids!"
"They are not kids, Gloria! They are animals! They think with their teeth and their dicks and they don't give a damn about consequences!" Nadine sucked in a deep breath, like she was going to keep shouting, then released it abruptly and shook her head. "Fine," she said instead, her tone going clipped. "Do what you think is best."
*~*~*
Gloria did not know what was best. Nobody from the pack called again and the daily business of the guesthouse kept ticking over in spite of everything, because supernatural crisis situation or not, the sheets still had to be changed and the shower tiles scoured, and people had to be smiled at as they arrived to claim their rooms. An elderly couple had booked out the place for a weekend wedding, bringing along their separate children and grandchildren to witness the vows; Gloria and Damien set up a marquee in the garden for the ceremony, Louisa strung silver fairy-lights in the rose trellis to illuminate the reception and Nadine cooked with such single-minded intensity that not even Damien dared disturb her whirlwind.
"These are delicious," the bride said happily to Gloria, taking another potato puff from the tray Lissa was handing around. "What a lovely place this is!"
"Thank you."
"So peaceful and green," the woman went on, looking around at the garden, "and everyone so friendly. Wonderful local food. That's the life, eh?"
"Mm,” Gloria agreed vaguely, wondering if Nadine was ever going to talk to her again or communicate entirely through spices and knives.
"My husband―ha, I can call him that now―his parents came from the country. Keeps telling me we should move out of the city, he says it's not safe, all the crime, you know?"
"Ah?" Gloria managed.
"What's important is staying near the family," the bride went on. She looked fondly around the courtyard. Her son and daughter-in-law were dancing to the easy crooning of a Michael Buble CD while a teenage grandson flirted cheerfully at a rather bemused Eben, and Louisa talked politics with the groom.
"How did you meet your husband?" Gloria asked, before she could have a repeat of the shopping list incident. The bride laughed.
"Oh, not very exciting, we met playing Murder on a cruise and lived in sin for the next ten years. But we're not getting any younger, and there's no bad reason for a good party."
Gloria smiled sincerely for the first time in days. "Good for you."
The bride patted her on the arm and went off to dance with her new husband, and Gloria stood alone for a while, out of the way, nursing a glass of champagne that tasted like bad decisions. At any other time she would be at her most relaxed on a night like this, the guesthouse humming with life, everything going smoothly enough that she could step back and watch, but all she could think about was boys with howling tattoos on their arms and Nadine slamming saucepans around in the kitchen like she was cracking skulls.
It hit her that every conversation she had had with her own mother, every hint (you've still got Nadine around then, that's good, what would you do without her, eh? Are you free to come over for Christmas or do you already have plans?) had crashed into the wall of You Don't Understand, brushed off because she didn't dare think about it any deeper, but maybe it had been Gloria who did not understand. Maybe what had made her happy had not been what Nadine wanted. She could not imagine why Nadine would have stayed so long if she wanted to be somewhere else, she had to know that Gloria would support her whatever she chose and would give her glowing references on the way... but what if she didn't know?
Gloria put down her empty glass and slipped inside unnoticed, heading for the kitchen.
Eight
Nadine had run out of things to chop. It had to happen eventually. She was sitting at the kitchen table with her back to the door, head bent over the crossword, and it twisted in Gloria's stomach to see her doing it alone. She stood there for a moment to marshal her thoughts, since Nadine knew perfectly well who was there and had decided to ignore her.
"You don't have to deal with this," she said at last.
The line of Nadine's shoulders went taut. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Gloria said, and she could hear her voice slipping into the crisp, business-like tone she used for delivering bad news, "this is my problem. They've spoken to me, briefly to Lissa, but they don't know who she is. I own the guesthouse. If it's too much, you don't have to stay."
Nadine drew in a sharp, shaky breath and did not answer.
"You have to know," Gloria said, her own voice not very steady either, "you could go anywhere. I mean, you're brilliant. Anyone would want you."
"Except you don't." Nadine twisted around in her chair, one hand fisted on the table, her eyes wet and hard. "God, Gloria. Every time. When anything goes wrong, it's the first thing you think of. You can leave. Every fucking time."
Gloria could not have been more stunned if Nadine had set fire to the table. "What?"
"It's not that I don't understand," Nadine continued, the words emerging spiky and uneven. "You don't see me that way, you never have, but my God, have I not proved myself yet? Have I not stuck by you through everything? When you were just starting this place and guests came every once in a blue moon, when Louisa showed up, when Lissa brought home that bloody cat, did I ever once say it was too much?"
"No–" Gloria began.
"And why do you think that is?" Nadine stood up, and it wasn't just her voice trembling now. "This is my home! I've lived here for six years! I've lived with you, whether you noticed it or not, and I've never once wanted to leave. Not once, Gloria."
She sank back into her chair and pressed a hand over her face. "You'd fight for this place," she said. "I know that. You'd fight to make us safe. But you wouldn't fight to keep me, would you? If I did want to leave, you'd just... let me."
"Of course I would," Gloria whispered. "But you'd break my heart."
Nadine went very still. Her hand was pressed over her face and all Gloria could see was the line of her lips, parting slightly on a shocked breath. "What?" she said, her voice as thin on the same word as Gloria's had been only minutes ago.
"I n
ever wanted you to feel obliged to me," Gloria said. She braced herself with a hand on the door frame, dizzy at the confessions that were bubbling up in her throat. "I was your employer. Your friend. Why would I fight you? If you wanted something, anything, I wanted it for you. All I ever wanted was for you to know that."
Tears were slipping down Nadine's face under the hand. Gloria finally edged her way forward, taking each step carefully, going slowly down to her knees at the side of Nadine's chair. She reached out, hovering briefly with indecision, then she closed her fingers gently around Nadine's wrist and pulled her hand away from her face.
She had never seen a look like that from Nadine before. Furious, and openly adoring, but underneath it was a familiar exasperation that made Gloria ache with sheer relief. She slid her hand to cup Nadine's cheek and tilted her head up, letting Nadine lean down the rest of the way until their mouths were fitted together.
It was not that Gloria had never been close to Nadine before. She had noticed that they were living side by side, thank you very much, though she had refused to think too hard about it, and it wasn't like they had not hugged in those six years, there had been kisses pressed to cheeks and arms around shoulders, but never before had Gloria been allowed to inhale Nadine's lemongrass-and-honey scent up close, with a right to the pleasure.
She kissed Nadine with her mouth and her fingers, shaping the angle of her jaw and turning it with gentle nudges, the better to get at her tongue. Nadine made a sound somewhere between question and threat when Gloria began to pull away, and Gloria could not quite grasp words so she just gestured at her knees on the tiled floor, at which Nadine hauled her up and pushed her up against the table to keep kissing, the wooden legs whining a little under the combined pressure of their bodies. Gloria looped her arms around Nadine's neck to keep her balance and to keep Nadine close.
"I'd fight for you," she said giddily, as Nadine's mouth slid behind her ear. "Oh, fuck, Nadine. I would, if you wanted me to."
