The Accords Triptych (Book 1): Wolves Without Teeth

by Thomas, Ian

  “About twenty minutes ago. Figured we’d experience the TSA nightmare together.”

  “Yay. And the others?”

  “Not sure.” McLachlan’s eyes were dark. “Guess we’ll see them at the gate.”

  Once they had checked in, compared seat assignments, and made it through airport security they found their gate and Matteo smiling broadly as they approached.

  Despite having fully recovered from the torture the Cult had inflicted upon him, Rebecca could still picture it. His flayed arm, broken ankle, and how the silver chains had melted the flesh and sinew where they bound him.

  “Good morning,” he cheered, giving her a warm hug and then shaking each of the guys’ hands. “Slight delay with the flight but we should be boarding in a little under an hour.”

  Jason and Mouth looked at each other and said in unison, “food!”

  “Ya know,” McLachlan said in a low voice to Matteo once the boys had left. “There’d be no delay if we were taking your private jet. Just saying.”

  As the civilian representative – which was a nice way of saying non-supernatural – Rebecca had been the one to arrange this trip with Matteo. Fairly quickly she worked out he probably hadn’t flown a commercial airliner in a while. And if he had, someone else had planned everything for him. While his desire not to be flashy and intimidating with his wealth was noble, Rebecca had felt like she was back home explaining YouTube to her father. An awkward situation that had been sidetracked when Matteo heard the word ‘coach’. What followed was a delightful hour-long reflection on horse-drawn transport and sore butts.

  “Hey plane buddies!” Rowan called behind them. To one side of her was Hayley and to the other, Eddie. Maybe Rebecca had read a little too much Jane Austen but she suddenly gleaned a very chaste vibe from the tableau with Rowan none the wiser.

  Less handshaking this time around, replaced by hugs and catch-up banter. Interestingly, Eddie seemed really happy to see McLachlan and soon the two were walking away aimlessly. Which left Rowan, Matteo, Hayley, and Rebecca.

  “And how is everybody?” Rowan asked.

  “Tired.” Rebecca leaned her head on Hayley’s shoulder, hoping McLachlan’s return saw him bearing coffee.

  “Dreading this,” Hayley said.

  “Needing to use the bathroom.” Matteo hurried off leaving the group to look at each other quizzically.

  “Good to know,” Rowan muttered once he had left.

  “God, I feel like I haven’t seen him in ages.” Rebecca watched as the Pack Lord slipped into the crowd.

  “Because you haven’t,” Hayley replied curtly. “None of us have.”

  “He’s been busy, healing and all,” Rowan said. “Plus there’s been a lot of wolf stuff he’s had to do concerning Ben.”

  “Killing him shouldn’t be that complicated.” Hayley folded her arms.

  “I meant severing ties – financial, legal, property. Ben was part of Matteo’s pack, very much like a family.”

  As the women headed for the sparsely populated gate lounge Hayley excused herself for the restroom.

  “Of two,” Rebecca said. “Isn’t it a little weird? Given how big he is on family that Matteo doesn’t have a bigger pack? Like it’s odd, right?”

  “I’ve thought that too,” Rowan admitted to Rebecca’s surprise.

  “Well there’s Eddie.” Not that they could see him nearby.

  “And Dominic’s wolves, Max and Michael. Once he died, they came under his care. I guess he never really felt the need.”

  “Matteo does have that waifs and strays welcome air to him.” After a moment, Rebecca added, “oh and the flight’s a little delayed.”

  The other woman groaned as the two college sophomores returned sharing a packet of tortilla chips.

  “Are there such things as bathroom demons?” Hayley walked briskly toward them, a stricken look on her face.

  “Only after Mouth’s used it.” Jason sat across from Rowan and Rebecca. Mouth, one seat down from him and next to Hayley.

  “No, really?” Hayley pleaded with Rowan. “Because that’s not one way I want to die.”

  “There’s no bathroom-specific demons or entities that I know of,” she replied. “So I think you’re safe.”

  “Besides you’d more likely be possessed by a banshee or something.” Mouth lay his head back on the chair and looked at the ceiling.

  “Please stop watching Teen Wolf.” Jason shook his head in dismay. There were few limits to Mouth’s pop-cultural diet. He only seemed to draw the line at Reality TV. And Fox News.

  “Maybe, though those sirens sound pretty bad ass.” Hayley sat forward and regarded Mouth carefully. “Let me see. I’d say you’re likely to end up being some vampire’s bitch boy.”

  “Caught in a love triangle between a vampire and a werewolf,” Mouth snapped back. “Oh wait, you’re halfway there.”

  “Screw you.” Hayley punched him. “Okay, you’ll uncover some ancient magical artifact and level half of Manhattan.”

  “Hulk. Smash!” he grunted. “Turned into a dragon. Boom.”

  “I hope you mean the winged variety and not some sexist comment.”

  “Would you prefer harpy?”

  “Are we actually playing this?” Rebecca groaned as the others laughed.

  “Come on.” Hayley leaned forward with a grin, “who doesn’t want to guess their supernatural fate.”

  “I’d say.” Mouth squinted his eyes and scrutinized his co-host closely. “You find a lamp in a Middle Eastern bazaar while accompanying McLachlan on a dig, give it a good polish, and end up swapping places with a djinn, imprisoned forever in some tacky souvenir gift shop in Missouri.”

  “Ouch,” Jason laughed, wanting to play. “McLachlan gives her a necklace that has secretly – not by him – been cursed to make the wearer kill her lover after sex.”

  “During sex,” Hayley corrected.

  “You nasty,” Rowan said.

  Hayley turned on the wiccan. “Stripped of your magic and need to take a menial job.”

  “What? Like in a shitty PR firm?” Mouth ducked as Hayley swung for him again.

  The group made another couple rounds before Jason piped up, “what about me?”

  Without thinking, Mouth replied, “oh, you’d be killed. Pretty early on really.”

  “Real grisly too.”

  “Surprised you’ve made it this far actually,” Mouth said, giving his roommate the once over.

  “You know what, fuck you!” Jason got up suddenly and strode away.

  “Something I said?” Mouth laughed.

  “I’ll go after him.” The wiccan stood slowly and, without looking at the others, walked in the same direction.

  “Dick move!” Hayley said.

  “What?! You ragged on him too.”

  “But she knows when to stop,” Rebecca said angrily. “I’d say ‘too soon’ if it wasn’t the understatement of the century.”

  “Oh, you mean what’s his face?”

  “John!” Hayley said, beating her friend to the punch. “His name was John. We’re going to his funeral. You need to be a better friend.”

  “You really do,” Rebecca agreed.

  “But—”

  “No,” Hayley said. “I agree I played too and I’ll apologize.” She looked back at Rebecca. “Maybe we could say he had a nice werewolf bite? Or something a little more Harry Potter.”

  “He’d like that.” Rebecca realized how odd the discussion was.

  “I dunno.” Mouth sucked in a breath sharply. “Harry Potter got real dark.”

  “Yes, but not gay-dead-lover dark,” Hayley replied. “Or is it dead-gay-lover?”

  “Just go.” Rebecca looked at Mouth, her tone firm. Reluctantly, Mouth got up and looked around for some sign of Jason. When none was forthcoming he ambled off knowing he would not be able to sit back down or one of those grisly fates might have been his sooner than expected.

  “So…” Hayley beamed. “…first trip away as a couple,
huh?”

  “Shut up.”

  “So cute.”

  “Shut up,” Rebecca pleaded, shaking her head. As her friend laughed, Rebecca glanced around the departure lounge. Matteo still hadn’t returned from the bathroom. Meanwhile over by another gate, she saw Eddie and McLachlan huddled intently. Mouth wandered aimlessly nearby, reluctant to go in search of his friend.

  V

  Rowan didn’t need to exert any real effort to find Jason.

  Despite them being in a crowded terminal his aura pulled at her. Friends were easier to find across the psychosphere. Their auric fields almost on speed dial.

  When she found him sitting at a table with a mocha in front of him his aura was more like cartoon storm clouds than a colorful aurora. The drink untouched despite him staring at it intently.

  Ordering hot water for herself, she approached the table. “How much did they sting you for that?”

  He looked up and attempted a smile. “Well, ma’am airport prices still sting less than Mouth at times.” He shook his head, the polite South Carolina manners endearing but out of place. “Sorry ma’am. That was a little more dramatic than I intended.”

  “Enough with the ‘ma’ams’. I’m from New York. It makes me feel old.”

  “Sorry ma– Jus’ sorry.”

  “You’re entitled though. To be a little dramatic.”

  “What? Because I’m gay?” he exclaimed with a smile and a flourish. Rowan laughed and slipped into a chair across from him, happy to see the aura soften. A soft pink radiated into the grey, mellowing it to a light blue. She wisely figured telling the guy hung up on his sexuality his aura was now pink wouldn’t be the best step in a counseling session. “I’m not that guy. Ya know, dramatic and storming off so someone comes after me.”

  “Oh honey, if that’s what you call storming off then you need some practice.” It was Jason’s turn to laugh. “But don’t flatter yourself, I needed an excuse to leave.”

  “How so?”

  “Not to sound dramatic – and I’m sure they were just having fun – but if they only knew how savage the supernatural can be.”

  “I think we get the picture,” Jason said, as Rowan’s water arrived.

  She dug into her bag as she spoke. “No really you don’t. That cult sits outside of the usual supernaturals. Greedy people playing with things they don’t understand. The real supernatural world is vastly different. Dark and brutal.” She paused when she saw Jason pale, “but it can be beautiful too.”

  “But–”

  “John and Boyd were both killed with guns. Not magic. Not fang. Nor claw. Remember that.” Finding what she was looking for, Rowan dropped a small muslin bag of herbs into the hot water and waited for the tea to steep. “But that’s not what’s on your mind.”

  Jason paused, the blue of his aura deepening. Generally Rowan read his color as yellow: self-aware, upbeat, open and good with people. To see it fluctuate this much troubled her. But then death will do that.

  “We’re going to a funeral – en masse I might add – for a guy who slept with me to get close to my friends.”

  “And?”

  “Uh, not the reaction I expected.”

  “Sorry to disappoint but sleeping with someone for the wrong reason is not the end of the world. And in truth, you weren’t the deceiver here.”

  “No, I was the deceivee. Decept–”

  “Deceived,” Rowan said. “Trusting someone isn’t a weakness.”

  “Being gullible is.”

  “Okay we can spend the morning debating synonyms but I have a strong feeling I’d lose.” She fished a deck of large cards out of her bag. “Or I can do your tarot.”

  “What?”

  Rowan slipped the deck from its sleeve and handed it to him. “Just think of a question you need some enlightenment on.”

  “Why am I such a fuck up?”

  “Okay I think we can dial down the bullshit self-pity, don’t you?” Rowan lifted the tea bag out of her drink and placed it on a napkin. The water was now a light, clear green. “You say you’re not dramatic and then, well, you’re a little dramatic.”

  “Coping mechanism?”

  “At least. Oh don’t just hold them, shuffle them. I thought you’d read Harry Potter. How can you be this obtuse?”

  “Well excuse me, Professor Trelawney, I never thought I’d be in an actual Divination class.”

  “Oh the things I could tell you,” she smiled.

  “You know I’m still stuck on my ‘fuck up’ question,” Jason admitted, shuffling the deck. “What kind of question should I be thinking of?”

  “Open-ended. Something that’s specific but kinda big picture at the same time.”

  He shuffled the deck a few times more, concentrating, before offering them back to her. Instead, she indicated he set them on the table.

  “You got a question?”

  “I think so,” he said. “What does the future hold for me? I think I’d prefer to look forward. Not look back.”

  “Good call. Right, cut the deck,” she said. “And again. Now reassemble the piles.” He did as instructed until the four piles were back in one stack again. “Right.” She took a card from the top and placed it face down in front of him. Then she placed one either side of the first, again face down but slightly further from him. The next was placed further back, in line with the first. Two more were drawn and placed either side of the fourth, yet further back still. Rowan touched the first card. “This is where you’re currently at. Head space, social sphere, place in the world, that kinda thing.” Turning it over, Rowan was unsurprised to see the Hanged Man reversed.

  “Uh, that doesn’t look good,” Jason said.

  “Actually it’s what I expected.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes,” she said matter-of-factly. “In reverse, the hanged man – how to put this – well it’s very much where you’re at right now. Preoccupied with physical matters. Namely sex, but pretty much throwing good energy after bad. Like you’re suspended and need to let go.”

  “Thank you Frozen.”

  “You think you can pop culture yourself out of this one?” Rowan tapped the card. “Is it wrong though? There isn’t something that maybe you should get over that involves a butt you could bounce a quarter off?”

  “Okay. I’ll accept that. And actually, that’s probably pretty accurate.”

  “Thank you,” Rowan said. “The next card.” The second drawn and lain to the left of the first. “This is important. It’s where conflict is around you, what causes it, where your obstacles are.”

  “I didn’t know there was a penis in the tarot?”

  “Well, not this set. I’m just gonna go ahead and predict this one. Nine of Swords,” Rowan said, turning the card to reveal she was correct.

  “How?”

  “Because you need to wake up and stop worrying about everything. You’re smart, cute, funny, nineteen, and a decent human being. You just worry too much. The Nine of Swords is about being too anxious and too critical of yourself.”

  “So basically me.”

  “Not all the time. Now you’re not. But I’m guessing it can get out of hand?”

  “Little bit,” he said.

  “So this card is your wake-up call. Hence the person waking up in the image. You have a lot going for you, you just don’t see it like the rest of us do.”

  “Point taken.” Rowan could tell that Jason was a little unsettled by the accuracy for the reading. She wasn’t. They were his present and his stresses. One conversation with him and a lay person could have predicted this spread.

  “From here on out, though, I’m not so sure about what’s coming up. There are lots of options in the tarot, but these four are out here already. They’ll give us a pretty good picture of what work you’ve gotta do. You still game?”

  “Yup.”

  Rowan turned over the next card, a smile playing at her lips. “This one is really specific to what you have to do, changes you have to make, to
deal with challenges down the road.”

  “Strength?” Jason asked, reading the decorative image.

  “Let’s say courage in this instance,” she said, but saw he wasn’t comfortable. “I get this feels like some new age version of an after school special about learning just what kinda active gay man you can be – which I don’t think they actually made – but it’s not. These are your cards. You shuffled your energy into them.”

  “And came up with my headspace for the past two years.”

  “That’ll happen. But this strength card is not just about courage to embrace your inner moppet or whatever. There are other ones for that. No, this one’s kinda special. It’s saying that you have the strength to realize what you want. You just need to channel it. And once you do, you’ll be surprised at what you’re capable of. Using your strength will make you stronger.”

  He thought on it for a minute, looking at the table. “Okay what’s next?”

  “Your other strengths. What you can draw on in times of trouble,” Rowan said, turning the fourth over. “Oh, that’s nice.”

  “What is?”

  “The Two of Cups. Your friends, those close to you, kindred souls. Basically us. We’re what’s going to help you through the hard times.”

  “Just gotta work on not pissing y’all off.”

  “Always wise,” Rowan said, feeling confident Jason was safe on that score. “Okay, so since nothing exists in a vacuum, the next one is about other challenges you might have. Ya know, once you’ve stopped falling for any set of abs and broad shoulders, and realized you have more to offer the world than what you’re currently putting out there.”

  “Then, by all means. Turn. That. Card,” he said dramatically. When Rowan didn’t move, he added. “I was going for an Extreme Makeover – Move that bus thing.”

  “Oh, I know. I just wasn’t going to indulge you.”

  “Good to know.”

  Rowan turned it over and stopped for a second before laying it down. The King of Pentacles. Reversed. Had she dealt them out correctly? Had she been distracted? Casting her mind back to the placement she already knew the answer. No. This was correct. The cards were telling her as much. Hell, the damn upside-down King was practically smirking at her self-doubt. She cast an eye over the spread. No, this was right. What she expected and what she accepted. But this.