by Emma Savant
“When will that be?”
“Who knows,” Grandma said. “I think she’d be just as happy to avoid her daughter right now.”
“Wouldn’t we all.”
I took a long drink of my tea. It was one of Grandma’s chamomile blends, and I knew she’d chosen it specifically because she knew I’d need help calming down.
I didn’t feel better about everything that had happened tonight. But I did feel loved.
I offered the tea to Grandma, but she shook her head and lifted her own thermos.
“Hot toddy for me,” she said.
I snorted and leaned back in my chair. The warmth from the flames was as soothing as the tea, and my body slowly started to release some of the anger that half an hour storming through the woods hadn’t been able to touch.
“We’re not just dealing with Sienna,” I said. It had been easy to forget that. My mind had been swarmed with thoughts of her from the first moment she’d stepped out into the alley, but she hadn’t been alone, and I hadn’t gone to the club tonight looking for her. “If I’m right, she’s got an entire wolf pack behind her. Brick seems wrapped around her finger.”
“We don’t know he’s a werewolf,” Grandma reminded me. “Let alone the alpha. I thought you said a woman at the poker table seemed like she was in charge?”
“She did,” I said. My brain hurt to think about it, but I pushed my way through the memories of the night anyway. “The other wolves definitely obeyed her. Maybe Brick is part of another pack. Or maybe he flies solo. Maybe he’s turned Sienna and she’s the alpha now.”
“That’s a lot of maybes.”
I nodded and used the toe of my boot to push the edge of a log deeper into the fire.
“I think we need more than the coven on this,” I said.
“Law enforcement won’t do anything,” Grandma said. “The palace has chosen to stay out of the mesmer games, and we don’t have enough proof to get anyone involved in the birthday party attack arrested. We don’t have any proof aside from Dagger testimony, and if Brick is protecting the wolves and it comes down to your word against theirs…” She trailed off. She didn’t need to say more.
“Not law enforcement.” I wrapped my hands tightly around my tea and let the heat soak into my fingers. “The Wildwoods.”
Grandma raised her eyebrows at me, inviting more.
“They already know about the Crimson Daggers,” I said. “They’re also the ones who helped me learn about that attack on the Humdrum party. Well, Brendan was, anyway, but they all do what he says. They’re on our side, and if we’re going up against an entire pack of werewolves, maybe we should do that with an entire pack of werewolves.”
She took a long, pointed drink, looking at me over the edge of her thermos.
“What?”
“That’s a lot of people,” she said.
“You know me,” I said. “You know I’d rather do it on my own. But we’re up against someone who knows us, and our weaknesses.”
“Sienna hasn’t done anything to us,” Grandma said.
“Yet.”
The Burnside pack hadn’t done anything to us, either, but they had tried to do something to a whole party full of Humdrum children.
I wasn’t naive enough to think that Sienna couldn’t possibly have had anything to do with that.
Even if she hadn’t, though, that didn’t change the enemy I’d been after in the first place.
“The Burnside werewolves are dangerous,” I said. “I think we’ll do better if we have the Wildwood werewolves keeping their eyes and ears open.”
Grandma stretched and settled back in the chair. “All right, sabre,” she said. “Bring them in. Do what you think is best. This is your mission.”
27
I felt trapped in the parlor. It wasn’t just the bodies, although we had enough people in here to fog up the windows. More than anything, it was the way everyone in this room was glaring daggers either at me or each other. The two groups clustered on opposing sides of the room like boys and girls at a middle-school dance.
“This was a stupid idea,” I muttered to Rowan.
She gave me a sympathetic look that her next words didn’t quite match.
“Well, it wasn’t exactly smart,” she said. Her voice was low, but still loud enough to carry in the almost-silent room.
She continued to slide squares of lemon cake onto small paper plates. The table we’d set up near the fireplace was loaded with cake and lemonade and a giant veggie platter, and everyone so far had avoided the food.
When Daggers and werewolves alike wouldn’t even get a piece of cake for fear of running into each other, I knew things were serious.
“Here,” Rowan said, giving me two plates. “Go hand these around. It’ll give you something to do.”
Grandma’s eyes focused on me as I walked across the room. I gave one slice to Brendan and another to Cate.
“Could you maybe back me up here?” I said in an undertone.
Brendan raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I want to put myself in that line of fire.” He shifted and glanced toward the door, and I got a fleeting impression that he was actually nervous.
And why shouldn’t he be? One of my coven had murdered members of his pack not that long ago.
“Cate?”
“Don’t look at me,” she said. “I’m not talking to those crazy witches. They’ll stab me as soon as talk to me. No offense.”
I let out a deep sigh and went back for more cake. As many people rejected the offer as accepted it, and I came away with the impression that half the werewolves thought I was trying to poison them. Even wolves I knew seemed shifty and unwilling to meet my gaze, and my sisters weren’t much better.
“You want to tell us what they’re doing here?” Ginger asked tightly when I handed her a plate. She spoke like she and I were about to be in on a plan together—but my plan tonight wasn’t just for my sisters, or the wolves, or the Cardinals of the coven. It was for everyone, and everyone would hear it together.
I couldn’t afford to play favorites. Not now.
I smiled a little and shook my head, and Blaze scrunched up her eyebrows at me like I was a puzzle she just couldn’t figure out.
Finally, the last of the coven trickled in and found seats on the folding chairs we’d dragged down from the attic. The air was too hot and thick in here to breathe.
Rowan put a comforting hand on my shoulder, and I nodded at her and forced in a deep breath.
“If I could have your attention,” I said to the room at large.
I hadn’t needed to ask; no one had been distracted in the first place, and the room was already silent except for the occasional hiss of the radiator in the corner.
I wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans. Dozens of pairs of eyes stared at me, and only Grandma’s and Mom’s seemed less than antagonistic.
“What are they doing here?” Rose demanded.
I shot her a quelling look that did nothing to mellow the intensity of her gaze. They all had the same question, witches and werewolves alike: Why were they in our parlor, sitting across from monsters?
From the other side of the room, Grandma gave me a discreet thumbs-up. I took another deep breath.
“I’ve been on a case for a few weeks that’s snowballed into something bigger,” I said. “The enemy I’m facing isn’t necessarily more dangerous than the ones I know many of you face every night, but this is different because it’s not just one person. It’s a whole pack.”
Murmurs bubbled from the collected group, and a few wolves shot to their feet, and I realized a second too late that everyone in the room thought I was about to start attacking the Wildwoods. I held up a hand, and so did Brendan. A few of his wolves sat back down, slowly, their faces tight.
“I think some of you here have heard of the Burnside pack,” I said.
A few of the Wildwoods seemed to let out sighs, and one of them settled back into his seat and frowned at me with his hand covering his chin.
“Some of you Daggers came to my rescue recently when a group of them were about to attack a birthday party full of Humdrum children. I found out about the attack thanks to Alpha Brendan.”
I ran my hands across my jeans again. My heart was racing, but no one had bolted from the room. That was something.
“We have reason to believe they’re being led by an alpha male named Joseph Brick who has a lot of influence in the Glimmering world,” I said.
Recognition flickered across a few faces, mostly among the Daggers who had worked at Carnelian at various points in their careers.
“Possibly in coordination with an alpha female. We also have reason to believe that they’ve hunted innocents before and have no plans of stopping. A small group of us went to investigate, and the Burnsides were more than ready to hand us over to their alpha, whose intentions were—not great.”
I took a deep breath; this last bit was the part I couldn’t stand to say out loud. I choked the words out anyway.
“Joseph Brick appears to have a connection with Sienna Hunter.”
The murmurs were louder this time, erupting quickly into a cacophony of voices. A few of the wolves shouted about how they thought she was in prison for her crimes and how prison wasn’t enough for her, and at least half the Daggers were demanding how I knew and where she was now.
I called for silence, but this crowd was beyond me. Finally, Grandma held up a hand and snapped. A bolt of lightning crackled from her fingertips, the lights flickered, and thunder slammed through the room.
28
Everyone fell silent.
“That’s all we know.” I exhaled slowly and surveyed the room. I had to take advantage of this moment. “Nelly did some investigating and learned only that Sienna’s lawyers struck some kind of bargain with the Faerie Court to get her out early. As far as we can tell, Mr. Brick agreed to take personal responsibility for her, claiming he’s prepared to undertake her rehabilitation.” I couldn’t keep the contempt out of my voice. “It appears he’s done this for multiple people in the past, all of whom have gone on to lead exemplary lives.”
As werewolves. As members of his pack. As the kind of people who had no compunctions about murdering defenseless children, so long as they could do it under cover of darkness and respectability.
“Is she a werewolf?” Rose demanded.
“And she’s part of this Burnside pack?” Robin said.
I jumped in before the chaos of questions could start again. “We don’t know. I only saw her briefly.”
“You’re sure it was her?” Poppy said.
“It was Sienna,” Adamine said grimly. “No doubts there.”
They all looked at me, waiting for the ah-hah moment where I’d tell them why they were all gathered here. I let my focus travel across their faces, taking in the fear and anger and surprise and confusion. I recognized everything they were feeling, because I was feeling it, too.
“We don’t know what this pack is going to do next,” I said. “But I do know a few things. I know that the members of the Burnside pack won’t hesitate to murder innocent people for sport. I know that they’re likely under the protection of a powerful man who’s going to be hard to nail down. And I know that they’re aware of us. Sienna will no doubt have told them everything about us—about our role as Daggers, about our personal weaknesses, about the magical protections that surround this property, everything.”
Blaze raised a hand. I nodded at her.
“Do they have plans to attack us?”
“I don’t know,” I said. That felt like my answer to everything these days. The weight of everything I didn’t know was overwhelming. “But if they continue the way they’ve been going up until now, chances are good that we’re going to have to attack them. I know most of you are aware that there’s been a spike in violent crime in the city lately. I don’t have proof, but I think they’re involved.” I glanced at the floor, debating how much to say, then straightened my shoulders. “One of them referred to Humdrums as ‘prime meat’ and another claimed to love ‘fresh naiad.’ It sounds like they’ve been hunting. A lot.”
Several people in the room cringed, Daggers and Wildwoods alike.
“Personally, I think we should go after them,” I said. “We don’t have enough hard evidence for the Waterfall Palace to step in.”
“Yes, we do,” Blaze said. “We have the bodies of the wolves we killed when they attacked the Humdrum party. We turned those over to the palace.”
This was a point I hadn’t considered, but Grandma was already shaking her head.
“No one came to claim those bodies,” Grandma said. “They had no criminal record and no known affiliation with any werewolf packs in the city.”
“Brick’s wolves keep a low profile,” Brendan added.
His pack looked toward him with increased attention, while the Daggers seemed to tense a little.
“When we scoped them out at the mesmer club, it was pretty clear they were a new pack. New pack probably means lots of people who haven’t been wolves long.”
“I’d never heard of the group, and I tend to know everybody who’s everybody on the wolf scene,” Cate added. “Whether we’re talking about illegal gaming parlors or Humdrum hunting, Brick clearly doesn’t want to leave a trail.”
I gave her a quick smile of thanks and cleared my throat. “The longer the Burnside wolves are allowed to go free, the higher the chances that they’ll attack another party of kids, and we won’t find out in time to stop them. And I’ll be honest, I don’t want to give Sienna a chance to figure out a way through the mansion’s defenses. We don’t have just ourselves to protect anymore, we have our allies, too.” I glanced over toward the Wildwoods.
Brendan gave me a serious nod, and a spot of warmth bloomed in my chest.
Our respective families didn’t trust one another yet. Brendan, though, was a young alpha, and I was a future Stiletto, and we were on the same side. I trusted him with my life. He’d proved that he felt the same by agreeing to move his pack onto Grandma’s land.
The coven and the pack weren’t friends, but Brendan and I were.
Now we had to hope our families would follow.
“If you all agree,” I said, meeting people’s eyes as I was able. “Then I’d like your ideas. We need to find a way to catch the pack. We need evidence to bring them in to the Faerie Court. But to get that evidence and not let anyone slip through the cracks, we have to get them all in one place without them getting suspicious.”
“And they’re going to be suspicious,” Rowan added.
I looked over at her, startled at the sudden support. She faced the group with a clear gaze and strong voice, and I shot her a grateful smile.
“Sienna is going to have them all on their guard.”
One of the wolves raised his hand. I hadn’t met this wolf before; he was young, with large dark eyes set in a serious face.
“It’s rare for an entire werewolf pack to be out at once,” he said.
I had to strain to pick up his timid voice.
“But you’ll want to catch them while they’re out. They’ll be able to defend themselves in their den better than outside it, and you shouldn’t give them that extra leverage.”
“Thank you,” I said.
He nodded, swallowed, and seemed to shrink back into his seat.
After a long, loaded silence, Rowan raised her hand, too.
“Since Sienna knows us and the way we operate, it’s important that we take them by surprise,” she said. “We can’t be predictable. No fashion events, no infiltrating Mr. Brick’s clubs.”
“I agree,” I said. “Thank you.”
Slowly, hesitant comment by hesitant comment, they shared their thoughts: We shouldn’t rush. We had to plan for a new moon, or maybe a waxing crescent, to avoid lending extra power to the Burnsides’ transformations. We could have law enforcement standing by—but only people we knew and trusted, because we didn’t know all the wolves’ day jobs or wheth
er they had friends that might let our plans slip. Nelly shouldn’t be there, since an alpha would target another alpha, and we wanted their attempts to fight us off to be scattered.
Grandma’s lips pursed a little at this suggestion, but she swallowed back her objections and allowed me to keep guiding the conversation.
As the thoughts flowed, the witches and werewolves alike loosened up. They built on one another’s ideas, and when one of the witches made a snarky joke, most of the wolves joined in on the laughter. In time, the conversation took on a life of its own, and I started to feel small and unimportant.
I had never liked feeling unimportant—not back when Sienna had been constantly stealing my thunder, and not recently when Mr. Brick hadn’t seemed to remember me.
But this time, for the first time, my own insignificance was inspiring. The pack and the coven were talking to one another—not just talking, but collaborating in a way that made them feel almost like one group.
I looked back to Grandma, and she winked at me.
This must be how she felt when things were going well, I realized: like she didn’t matter, and like it wasn’t about her.
And that was the way it should be.
Finally, I held up a hand. “It’s getting late. Anyone who’s willing to be involved in this, meet back here tomorrow.”
“And grab some more cake on the way out,” Rowan called. “I’m bringing pie next time.”
29
“As requested,” I said.
I slid a few papers across Grandma’s silver desk. She examined the designs and made a few adjustments with a red pencil to the drape of a skirt and the angle of a collar. Finally, she handed them back.
“These are good,” she said. “This is the kind of quality I expect from my designers.”
I felt my face light up.
“Really?”
“Really, sabre,” she said. “These are excellent. I’ll likely end up using that cocktail dress in a future collection.”
