“John,” Andrew said, and took a generous swig of coffee, “has his muzzle planted as deep in his own ass as it will go. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste any effort on trying to figure out what will pull him out of it.”
“That’s not helpful,” Susan snapped, unconsciously channeling the way Silver had sounded earlier. To her surprise Andrew bowed his head in something like apology.
“But the effort’s yours to waste. All right.” Andrew stared meditatively into middle distance. “It might come with time. Silver and I have lived in such atypical Were social situations, it’s a little easier to accept one more strangeness. John’s too traditional for his own good, but he did tell you in the first place. He’s getting there.” He sipped his coffee again. “Or you could follow Benjamin’s basic advice. Rile him up, avoid him, and see if he comes searching.” He shrugged. “I really have no idea. It will come as no surprise when I say we’re not exactly close.”
Susan nodded. “Thank you anyway.” He’d given her something to think about, at least, and maybe she’d done some good distracting him too. He no longer balanced on the chair as if he would explode back up into pacing at any moment. She exhaled in a low laugh. “So what about Were naming traditions?”
26
Dare was lucky to avoid sitting through this, Silver decided after the second item of Convocation business. Couldn’t Western alphas deal with questions of territory on their own? Silver knew that while they could and did, the Convocation provided a more permanent settlement, rather than forever skirmishing and guarding the line. But she’d have thought the alphas would bring a proposed line to the Convocation and ask them to ratify it, not demand they decide the line’s location.
Two alphas wrangled now, reciting long lists of dates when this part of the territory had been won or lost, or the line passed through a location the other claimed it had never touched before. Even Death seemed bored, lying on his side at full stretch, eyes half lidded. Most wild selves looked that way, whatever their tame selves’ apparent attention.
The leader of the foreigners showed patience in both his selves, though Dare’s brother-in-law was the worst of all at hiding his boredom. Silver supposed she couldn’t blame him. Territory wrangling could be of no interest to them; they had only been invited because it allowed everyone to keep an eye on them.
Dare’s daughter’s wild self paced. She kept staring at Silver, probably looking for her father. Silver ignored her pointedly. That was what they wanted, her interest piqued.
Then it came time to stand for the territory issue. Silver didn’t know who had the right in the argument, but she did know who would. She looked at her cousin as each alpha in turn called out, “Under the Lady’s light, who stands with me?” He shook his head on the first, nodded on the second, and Silver stood with three-quarters of the others.
Roanoke remained sitting, which Dare had explained was to be expected. When he stood, all his sub-alphas stood with him, which was too much power to be exercised lightly. With him sitting, the sub-alphas could stand or sit as they liked. Roanoke flashed a smirk as everyone returned to their seats, which was not expected.
“Roanoke has business,” he said, and stood. Ears of wild selves across the room snapped to him. When they were readying for the Convocation, Dare had told her that Roanoke didn’t bother bringing up trivial territory questions at the Convocation. They settled such things internally. “On behalf of another who can no longer speak for himself.”
Silver concentrated on drawing in her next breath to keep her heart from racing out of control. He could only be talking about the former Sacramento, but by tradition, that shouldn’t be happening today. Dare had said that originally, and her cousin and Boston had agreed this morning. Dare was supposed to be here for this part. She had confidence in her ability to get people to listen to her simple orders, but she knew this needed more than that. Dare would need to make his arguments with a singer’s voice: the right pitch, the right sequence, to the right people, in the right order. Lady, she wasn’t supposed to be defending Susan alone.
Tom hadn’t gotten it, Silver could see that as she reached to dig her fingers into his wrist. “Get Dare and Susan,” she said, low, as Roanoke drew himself up to declaim the rest of his little ploy.
“The former Sacramento was murdered. And not just murdered, but murdered by a human who not only lives, but is here among us, gathering more secrets with each passing moment. We must deal with her immediately, before she puts us in additional danger.”
Tom had been moving slowly, perhaps from confusion at his orders, but he ran then. That left only Silver and her cousin. He put a steadying hand on the back of her shoulder. Silver considered knocking it away to avoid any appearance of weakness. But the touch helped, and besides, wouldn’t reacting draw more attention than ignoring it?
“The accused deserves a chance to hear and respond to what is said before anyone stands in judgment. We will wait for her, Roanoke.” Silver held her voice steady. Confident.
Roanoke opened his mouth, perhaps to dismiss her, but on seeing the nods of the other alphas, he frowned and sat himself. “For a few minutes,” he allowed. He gestured his beta to collect food for him. The others seemed to take this as a general signal, and everyone pushed up to swarm around the food. Silver stayed where she was, the better to maintain the illusion of confidence. Dare would be here very soon. Wouldn’t he? She looked at Death, trying to see an answer in his expression.
Death watched all of them, tongue lolling out in a silent laugh. “Now things get interesting.”
* * *
Tom was in a terrible hurry, but Susan still made him wait while she loaded up Edmond’s things. It wasn’t like she could dump him at the nursery without any supplies.
Tom slammed into Andrew and Silver’s bedroom and back out again. “Where’s Dare?” he demanded, like she was hiding him for some nefarious purpose of her own.
“Out for a walk.” Susan held up a forestalling hand and whatever Tom had been about to say was actually forestalled. This acting dominant thing really worked. Who’d have thought? “And I know Silver said to keep him here, but he seemed pretty damn serious, and he swore on both the Lady and Death he wasn’t going to find his daughter or go anywhere near the meeting.”
“On Death?” Tom looked confused, but he shook it off like a shaggy dog shaking off water. “It doesn’t matter. You go to the Convocation, I’ll track him.” He took her wrist and almost yanked her off her feet, werewolf strength badly leashed. Outside, he took off into the trees. “Tell Silver I’ll bring him back as fast as I can!” he called over his shoulder.
On the way to the nursery, Susan jogged as much as she could while carrying a baby and a full diaper bag. She dragged fingers through her disarranged hair as she left and ran for the hall, panting with the exercise at this altitude. They’d said her case wouldn’t come up until tomorrow. Had it been moved forward? She hadn’t put on makeup this morning, and the suit she’d brought was still in her suitcase. If Tom had told her what this was about, maybe she could have done something to make herself more presentable, dammit. She already had a red sunburned mask like a dumb tourist from yesterday. It stung in the current sunlight and wind.
This time, she went to the front of the hall. The door stood open, letting in a breeze, so she pushed right through rather than let anyone see her hesitating on the threshold.
She immediately regretted not taking the time to gather herself. It was one thing to look down at the room full of powerful people, but it was quite another to face it, knowing these people would be deciding her fate. Utilitarian banquet tables, scarred without their camouflaging tablecloths, were placed to form four sides of a very large square. There was no head or foot, just people along every side, with a small gap left to enter the center. Was that where she would have to stand?
People stared at her, talking inside their little groupings in murmurs. Susan crossed her arms and tried to apply what Tom had told her when looking down at t
hem. Alpha, beta, and mate. Which was which? Scattered plates rested by elbows, many empty, though some held pastries that matched the selection on two sideboards along both long walls of the hall.
She found Silver near the center of one of the square’s sides and hurried over to her and John. She didn’t care if it embarrassed John, she seized his hand and held it as tightly as she could. He didn’t try to stop her.
“Where’s Dare?” Silver hissed. Outwardly, she looked calm, but her voice sounded like Susan felt.
“He went for a walk, I had no idea—” Susan swallowed to cut off her panicked babble. “Tom’s tracking him right now.”
John added his other hand on top of hers. “It will take some time for them to present their version of the story. Dare should be back in plenty of time for our turn to tell ours.”
Susan nodded jerkily and sifted through her memories with shaking metaphorical fingers. She had lines memorized. She could hang on to that. They’d gone over what questions would probably be asked several times. She could do this. She took a deep breath. She could do this.
John moved a hand to her back, gave a nudge toward the empty center of the tables’ square. Susan felt like every muscle in her body was shaking with nervousness, but she made it around to the gap and through without tripping.
“I stand to listen to what—” Susan turned to shoot John a panicked look. Who? Who was the one who’d actually made the accusation? When planning, they hadn’t known for sure. Roanoke, John mouthed, or at least that’s what it looked like. “Roanoke’s business with me may be.” No one gasped or whispered rude remarks, so that must have been the right answer. One obstacle down, who knew how many left to go.
“You murdered Sacramento,” Roanoke said with a small sneer. She assumed it was Roanoke, since he was the one speaking and he had the muscle-bound football player look Dare had described to her. She turned to face him at his seat, but he entered the center of the square with her and lounged with his ass against the edge of a table.
“In defense of my pack.” That did bring gasps. Susan closed her eyes for a moment to keep from flinching. She could feel the press of everyone’s stares from every direction. How could anyone bear being in the center like this? Lines. She needed to keep to her lines.
“You can’t have a pack, human. In fact, you shouldn’t even be alive now, knowing about us.” Roanoke prowled around the inside of the square, ending in front of Silver and John. Blocking them, Susan realized after a moment. Dammit, the man was playing with them! A cheap trick, but she could feel panic rising even so, now that she couldn’t catch John’s or Silver’s eyes.
“The rules about humans exist for a reason,” Roanoke said. “Can you imagine what danger we would be in, if they knew about us? They’d kill us, cage us, study us.”
“But Sacramento was the one who—” Susan tried to break in with the next line before Roanoke warmed too much to his theme, but he continued right over top of her. Susan clenched her hands so she wouldn’t break down and start screaming. If she let him bully her into that, she was the one who looked weak and emotional.
“Think of all those she might tell these secrets to, now she has them. And all those they might tell in turn.”
The man had a powerful voice. Susan fought a rising tide of helplessness as Roanoke grandstanded on about the danger of humans. No. She hadn’t been helpless when Sacramento had Silver in his hands. She wasn’t helpless now.
“Sacramento was the one who—” Even shouting it didn’t help. Susan gave up trying to talk through him. If she couldn’t sound confident, she would have to look confident. Silver would think of something, and if not, Dare would be here soon. She concentrated on believing in that.
27
Silver listened to Roanoke’s pretty speech and imagined having a wild self to slam his to the ground and hold her teeth in its neck until it whined in surrender.
Tom burst in and skidded to a stop next to her. “I found his trail, but it twists and turns so much, I could waste all day following it to him when he was just over the hill in the other direction, I didn’t know what to do—” He paused long enough to take in Roanoke’s rhetoric and swallowed convulsively. “Silver, I’m sorry.”
“Just you now,” Death said in her brother’s voice. Just her now. Silver put her hand on Tom’s shoulder to let him know she wasn’t angry, but could spare no more attention. All right, just her. In a contest of shouting, there was no way she could best Roanoke. Some might say that was when you should try even harder, but Silver knew better than that.
That was when you changed the rules.
First, she removed her bad arm from the sling and tossed the sling aside. It ached sharply even with that small movement, but she’d need it in a moment. Roanoke was blocking the other alphas’ view of her, so she climbed up behind him on the table. She stood tall, feet planted, her head now far above his.
She saw she had the others’ attention. Silence splashed down with the suddenness of a flash flood, but for Roanoke’s continuing irritating whine. She saw in the brace of his back muscles he knew she was there, but he didn’t turn. Perhaps he was trying to show how little he considered her a threat. He hadn’t realized she’d changed the rules yet, the fool.
Silver didn’t hesitate as she pulled out her silver metal chain, a replacement for the one Sacramento’s underling had destroyed. She’d worried before, but now it was time to run and pick up momentum and not stop for anything until you’d run right up and over the obstacle in front of you. This would work or it wouldn’t, she had no time for worry.
She tangled the chain’s end in her fingers on her bad side. She could curl them enough to keep it there and that was all she needed. Even now, she could see the others didn’t understand. She always stank of silver metal, part of her essential scent. They didn’t yet realize that this piece of silver was separate from that.
She looped the chain up and over Roanoke’s head to rest around his neck like a real necklace. She kept it low, touching only fabric. For now. She rested a hand on either shoulder, so he knew the moment she pulled her hands back, the chain would be tight around his throat. Then, finally then, he stopped talking, shock at the smell of silver stilling him for a breath.
Then he lunged against the chain, clearly thinking to snap it too quickly to cause much pain. Silver knew better than that. She’d seen it tried. Roanoke should not have underestimated the amount of pain silver ground into one’s skin could cause. He fell back, sobbing with the agony of the line now seared across his throat. Silver shook her good hand to settle the chain onto fabric again. For now. This time, Roanoke remained still.
Whispers chased each other around the room. Several alphas had half-stood while Silver wasn’t paying attention, perhaps meaning to lunge at her and stop her. “Under the Lady’s light, I have a story to tell you all,” Silver said. The alphas slowly returned to their seats when she made no more threatening moves, fragile stalemate tightening around them all.
Silver closed her eyes. Worse than the agony she’d awakened in her shoulder already, this was going to hurt. But even if the memories left her flayed and bleeding, this was how it had to be. To protect Susan.
“There once was a small pack, stubborn and independent. A crippled Were came to their den one day and begged for shelter. Compassionate, they invited him in. He charmed them all with his politeness and gallantry. He stank of silver from old injuries, and there was something strange in him, but they dismissed it. Aren’t we all a little strange, they said.”
“What does this have to do with—” Roanoke blustered with his words though he didn’t try to move this time. Silver tightened her fingers to just kiss his skin with the metal. He fell silent.
“Then, one night when everyone was in the den, he picked up one of the cubs to play with her and suddenly he had a silver knife at her throat. And he said that no one need be hurt, if they would sit quietly. He only wanted to talk to them, he said. And then the cubs would be safe. So they sat, and
he bound them with silver.
“But he’d lied, because there is no honor in one like that. So he killed the cubs one by one with his silver knife in front of us—of them—” Silver’s voice failed her, but her eyes found Death. Death sat still and tall, and she found strength in him, ignored the strangled gasps among the alphas. Seeing their horror would make it horrific all over again.
“He killed them because they were too young to receive his mercy, he said. It was mercy he offered the rest of them, he said. Pure and cleansed of their wild selves. So he poured the liquid fire into their blood to clean it, only it burned them all away too.” But for one, her lips said, but she didn’t give it voice. That wasn’t the point of this story today.
“He said it was for mercy, but in his eyes, I saw a light. A light of joy. The pain of others was joy to him, the purest joy this world had to offer. He said it was for mercy, but oh, he liked it.”
Silver paused. Her hands were starting to shake. Quickly, quickly, before the memories made her bleed out. “I’ve seen that light again. The former Sacramento had that light. It was a flicker compared to the flames of the one who tortured each of my former pack, but may Death cast into the void the voice of anyone who says I do not know that light when I see it. Does anyone say I do not know it?”
Everyone was too frozen to answer at first, but Boston bowed his head to her. Then Portland and Sacramento followed suit. Here and there, Silver saw someone press a thumb to their forehead, invoking the Lady.
“There is no snuffing out that light while the one who has it still lives.” Silver made her voice ring. “Dare and I killed the one who tortured my former pack and Susan killed the one who tortured my current one, and may the Lady bathe me in Her light, I would do it again, and she would do it again. She protected all Were with that action, in her pack or out of it, and so is more true alpha than half of those sitting here. She should go free.”
Tarnished Page 20
