The Accords Triptych (Book 1): Wolves Without Teeth

by Thomas, Ian

  Angrily, Eddie looked back to Ben. But he was gone.

  XXV

  Alone in the loft, Hayley repressed the urge to snoop through Eddie’s belongings.

  What more could he possibly hide than being a werewolf, she thought, slipping off the sofa and padding around the loft. She had to figure the minimalism came from his age mixed with his traveling lifestyle. From what she had gleaned, he spent little time in Manhattan. And when he was in town Matteo’s house seemed the focus of their lives.

  The minimalism allowed what artwork or objects he did have to be prominently featured. At the far end of loft, near the entrance, was a stark white wall. Centered in the middle was a large cast iron relief work she guessed came from a building exterior in New York. Possibly demolished now, the piece spoke of Eddie’s age and contrasted with the simple clean lines of the loft.

  Walking to the windowed corner of the loft, she looked out into the street and wondered where Eddie had gone. The street was quiet beyond the glass, low-lit and shadowy with little foot traffic.

  Apart from a man briskly walking to the corner. She watched him stop, turn, and look up at her.

  Ben.

  Startled, she stepped back. Any sense of safety gone.

  Was that why Eddie had left? Why wasn’t he back?

  Edging closer to the window, she dared to look at the corner but it was empty. She preferred him being there. At least then she knew where he was.

  Dashing across the loft to the stairs, she climbed to the roof. The tightening around her chest easing when she felt the night air on her face.

  Hayley looked around to see the group of college students doing next to nothing. Her fear had pictured them dead. Slaughtered by Ben’s hand.

  “Where’s Ste–” Naomi started saying then caught Drew’s eye. “Where’s Mouth?” When no one replied, she moaned in frustration and stormed over to the actors.

  “Found him.” Eddie swung himself over the fire escape, his tone light as he dragged Mouth to safety. He patted Mouth on the shoulder. “Idiot slipped over. Should be fine. Nothing broken.”

  “You okay?” Drew asked. The only member of the film crew actually concerned about Mouth.

  “Y-yeah,” he winced, arm across his chest. Ben’s handiwork. Even with little light, Hayley could tell Mouth was in pain. Pale, sore, and spooked.

  “He’s fine,” Eddie said charmingly. “Hey, so this whole filming thing fascinates me. Mind if we come up and watch until you’re done?”

  “No, of course not.” Naomi giggling and threw in a hair toss for good measure. Hayley rolled her eyes and walked over to Eddie.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice a little higher than she expected. He had gone after Ben, she decided, even chased him off. But then why had Eddie come back with Mouth. Looking rattled. And sore. And was that blood?

  When she asked what happened Mouth yelled ‘quiet on the set’ and they started shooting. One arm tight around her, Eddie seemed intensely focused on the shoot. Which was odd as the script was terrible, the acting passable, the director paying attention to the wrong things. There were only two remarkable things that interested Hayley. Firstly, the actor playing the superhero was doing a great job of wearing tights, every curve defined from every angle. Secondly, how quiet Mouth was. She wondered if he was alright, but then put it down to him being professional.

  Just shy of midnight, Naomi called a wrap. Checking the footage she finally understood what Mouth had been talking about earlier. The new footage was clear and crisp. Even Mouth had to agree that good cinematography might save a bad script. A comment he whispered to her and Eddie. To her credit though Naomi thanked Drew for stepping in.

  The group packed up quickly, intent on going drinking straight away. Eddie helped Mouth and Drew get all of the equipment into a cab, their host still exuding a warm demeanor. Once Drew was settled in the cab Mouth turned to Eddie.

  “I’m sor–” But Eddie had turned and strode into the building where Hayley waited. The door swung shut behind him and he was gone.

  XXVI

  Crushingly, reality returned during Rebecca’s Sunday night shift at WNYU. The weekend of romance, sex, and McLachlan had ended and the real world beckoned.

  While the weekend was over, the feeling hadn’t gone away. She liked that. A Lot.

  Saturday afternoon had rolled into Saturday night. This time take-out at her place. Neither of them felt the need to cook like Eddie was doing for Hayley. The appeal of the small apartment, with just the two of them, was too great to pass up. The night rolled into Sunday where Rebecca had promised to take Hayley out for breakfast. McLachlan knew it would be a comparison of stories so he called Eddie and they hit the gym to do much the same.

  News of Ben attacking Mouth dulled the glow she had felt from the weekend. Knowing he was okay helped, but fear lingered at the fringes of the day.

  Only when she saw him at the radio station did she properly relax, Rowan having worked her magic to help him heal. A situation she didn’t want reversed given how angry McLachlan had gotten. Not that she expected he would hurt Mouth. He wasn’t that angry. Rebecca just had a feeling that McLachlan blamed himself for bringing her and Mouth into his world, and the danger therein.

  Thankfully, there were other WNYU staffers still around that she restrained herself from bailing him up against the copier and reading him the riot act. However, McLachlan could drag Mouth away for a quiet word. Which Mouth seemed well aware of, his manner subdued.

  _ _ _

  “Can I talk to you a second?”

  Mouth looked at Rebecca. He had to have been expecting this. The other staffers glanced around sensing the tension.

  McLachlan smiled, though it was anything but. He led Mouth out of the studio and over toward the vending machines. The younger man slouched along behind him, the picture of disinterest.

  “Gut,” Mouth said when they reached the vending machine area.

  “What?”

  “Head or gut. You’re gonna ask me head or gut. I choose gut.”

  “I’m not gonna hit you. I thought about it. Thought about it a lot. But I’m not gonna hit you.”

  “Then what is this? A stern talking to? A sarcasm-off?”

  “Let me tell you something. That was the dumbest, most reckless, foolish, utterly dumb–”

  “You said that.”

  “I know. Where was I? Oh right, balls-out stupidest thing I’ve known anyone to do. And I’m real proud of ya.”

  “What?”

  “Now, now, don’t think I’m condoning what you did. I’m not. Thing is you did something. Sure, it was stupid. But you acted, you did, you tried.”

  Mouth was silent for a moment. “Totally expected you to ream me out.”

  “Bex’ll do enough of that anyway. Eddie too.” McLachlan put a hand on Mouth’s shoulder, very much channelling Frank. The younger man looked at the hand briefly.

  “Wait, is this some kinda new stepdad-winning-me-over-type crap? Cos I’ve been there and done that and still call bullshit.”

  “Wow, you’ve got some messed up relationships.”

  Probably not the best time to make a caustic observation, he realized. “Not trying to do that at all. D’ya think I’m the type of person who needs other people to like me?”

  Mouth shrugged.

  “My dad always told me don’t stand by and watch things happen. You thought, you cared, you acted. That gets respect in my book.”

  Mouth was silent. Wording the rebuke-slash-praise just right had taken McLachlan some time. Not that he’d written it down, he just knew the gist of what he wanted to say. No mean feat considering Mouth was as cynical as he was. What would he have listened to at nineteen had been the guiding thought. Though at nineteen, it’d been Matteo in his shoes and he liked Matteo a damn sight more than Mouth liked him.

  That said, he noticed less of a swagger to the younger man’s stance.

  “He also said to stay away from dumb,” McLachlan said. “For his sake, someone ha
s to listen to that advice.”

  “Think that’s a little late for any of us.”

  “Maybe so but you try a stunt like this again and I’ll whoop your ass good. My mom’s Texan, we have ways.”

  “But you said be a doer, not a watcher. Little mixed messages going on.”

  “Not at all. Ya did something and you survived. Good for you, but you know what else counts as doing something?”

  “No.”

  “Thinking. Being present-minded enough to weigh the odds and get yourself and whoever else outta harm’s way.”

  “Lame,” Mouth moaned arrogantly.

  “Really?” McLachlan’s hand shot out and patted Mouth’s chest where his ribs were still healing. “Really?!”

  “Point taken,” Mouth replied, his bravado fading. “Thanks though. For not chewing me out. Eddie won’t talk to me, and Bex is pretty much gonna kill me. Twice over.”

  “Better than the alternative,” McLachlan replied, his voice still firm. “We’ve had one funeral, we don’t need another.”

  For a second time Mouth was silent, the weight of his actions crashing in on him.

  “Come on, you got a show to do.” They started walking back to the studio, Rebecca watching curiously through the window as they approached.

  “Not gonna lie, thinking’s never been my strong suit.”

  Regarding the young man closely, McLachlan said, “I tend to disagree.”

  _ _ _

  Rebecca, on the other hand, waited for everyone to leave before from ripping into him. McLachlan included.

  “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “I wasn’t, okay. I just wasn’t.”

  “Ordinarily I’d accept that, but this is Ben. This is bad. He could have killed you, Mouth. This is not a game. This is life and death. Mostly death.”

  “I had shit going on, okay?” He told her about the film shoot, Jason and Mitch, and how Jason hadn’t been back to their room since Saturday. “I think he might’ve picked up extra shifts. But every time I call he doesn’t answer. I’ve been by the coffee shop and he’s not there.”

  Rebecca sighed. “Just need to let him get it out of his system.”

  “I know.”

  “Doesn’t mean you get to act out like that though.” She had a feeling there was more to Mouth’s disposition than just the events of the weekend. Was this him reacting to the supernatural? They’d all assumed he would be in his element. So maybe this was a sophomore workload thing? Problem was that in the time she’d known him, he’d never held anything back.

  Which meant she had to trust he was being honest with her.

  Additionally, one aspect of the weekend that she had enjoyed besides the sex and intimacy was the knowledge McLachlan shared. Following on from her request at the restaurant for learning more about the supernatural, he answered any and all of her questions in great detail. She found it helped is they weren’t in bed at the time as she got quite distracted by his naked form. Which that afternoon had found them hanging out on the Highline, the wind off the Hudson not so chilly as to be a bad idea.

  Sadly, as she stood before Rogalsky’s class in the afternoon, her head was swimming more with facts and stories about the Pack War than Romantic literature. Though one possibly lent itself to the other nicely.

  Being a tutorial, Rogalsky had instructed her to walk the class through an activity in preparation for an essay due later in the semester. His instructions were simple – students were to study two texts and write a critical analysis of them as if the authors were talking to one another. Interestingly, he had allowed her to pick the texts for class. Which of course led her to take excerpts from A Vindication of the Rights of Woman by Mary Wollstonecraft and Rights of Man by Thomas Paine.

  She was about to split the students up into groups when Jason came through the door, late.

  “Sorry,” he murmured.

  “No problem,” she replied, wanting to talk to him about his weekend more than actually teach the class. Once he took a seat she set the task and assigned groups, hoping they didn’t think the task was too infantile.

  A few classes in, Rebecca felt confident that she knew most of the students’ names. For instance, the girl in Jason’s group more interested in her split ends than the task was Beth. Also in the group was Kara who was devouring the Wollstonecraft excerpt. And also the girl from Mouth’s submission for best smile. Which left…Danny? A cute, if somewhat vanilla, all-American guy with a mop of blond hair and blue eyes. Oh god was that how she described McLachlan, she panicked. Hardly. McLachlan had more character to his face, his personality stamped on his features. This kid was…beige. Cute in an unremarkable way. Nice physique, pleasant features, but he never left an impact.

  Usually Rebecca didn’t take that much interest in nineteen-year-old boys. Which was a good thing. One mistake she hadn’t made with guys in her life was going with one younger than her. A small victory, but she’d take it.

  Her interest in Danny came from the spark she saw between him and Jason. Admittedly, more from him. The blond boy was leaning toward Jason, focused on what he was saying than anything Kara had to add. She’d been exposed to enough Cosmo and Marie Claire to recognize the signs of attraction.

  And yet Jason sat there oblivious.

  She wanted to say something, get his attention, text him – anything just to get Jason to see what was on offer. In that moment, Jason could do with a little beige. At the point she reached for her phone the door opened and Professor Rogalsky stepped into the room. Collectively the students stiffened and became more engaged. Up until that moment Rebecca thought they had been pretty engaged, however, in his presence she saw how hard they could actually work.

  Leaving Jason to his ignorance, she greeted the professor and showed him the extracts she had chosen. He seemed surprised at her choices, but the lack of criticism suggested his approval. In the few times they had talked, Rebecca had worked out that if he didn’t criticize her then he was endorsing her. Kinda the opposite of the Thumperian Principle she had said to McLachlan.

  “Little grade school don’t you think?” he asked, looking down his nose at the groups working together. “If you start giving out gold stars we may have to rethink this arrangement.”

  A joke? Or at least an attempt. Shit, he’s expecting a reply.

  “Aw,” she whined, “but that’s how I was getting Beth to show up.”

  He suppressed a smile but she still saw it.

  Taking a seat, he stayed for the rest of the class as she got the groups to report back on their work. He seemed genuinely impressed with the level of the students’ discussion. While most played out the conversation between the authors as either a professional discourse or political debate – all valid forms of expression with strong points – Kara and Jason set it up as a passive aggressive back and forth between a husband and wife.

  Even Rogalsky laughed.

  “They like you,” he said as the students packed up. “That can work against you or for you. Make sure you know which one is best for them.”

  “I will,” Rebecca replied, certain he wouldn’t ever really like anything she did. She accepted that.

  “And if you wouldn’t mind grading these,” he said, handing her a folio of essays. “See if your results match mine.” There were freshly printed copies of the essays and his rubric. Nothing more. Wondering if Rowan’s magic could help, she thanked him and asked when he wanted them back.

  “End of the week.”

  And he left.

  Muttering under her breath she collected her things and exited the room. One step forward, two steps back.

  “Hey,” Jason said, waiting outside for her.

  “Hey,” she smiled, startled but in a very good way. “Oh god, I’m glad to see you.” He smiled back at her. “What you did in there – you and Kara – was amazing. Like, thank you so much.”

  “Was fun,” he replied. A cheer went up from down the corridor. Looking, they saw Mitch near the elevators wit
h a group of his jock friends, Danny included. “Oh great.”

  “Wanna grab a coffee?” she asked, trying to get his attention.

  “Don’t you need to get some sleep?”

  “No, I’m all good. Besides, you can talk me through what Rogalsky’s marking is like.”

  “Brutal. We’ve only had one essay so far and pretty much most of us failed. He got really stuck on footnoting and format.”

  “Ugh,” Rebecca groaned, walking toward the elevators. Loud laughter rang out from the group of jocks. Rebecca saw them look in their direction. Time froze for a second before Jason turned and headed for the stairs. Following him, Rebecca was pushed aside as a blond blur ran past her.

  “Hey, wait. Jase,” Danny called after him in the stairwell. Jason stopped partway down, students swerving around him. Sullenly, he turned back. Danny stopped a step above him, Rebecca lingering on the landing awkwardly.

  “What?!”

  “You okay?”

  “Having a good laugh were you?” Jason demanded, his face burning.

  “It wasn’t about you,” Danny said, but Jason wasn’t listening.

  “Really? Mitch must be laughing his ass off.”

  “He’s not,” Danny said. “He’s worried about you.”

  “What? About me ruining his reputation?” Jason asked upset and angry.

  “No, it’s not–” But Danny didn’t finish his sentence, instead he grabbed Jason’s face and kissed him. Surprised, Rebecca felt she should look away. Especially as the kiss looked anything but beige.

  “What?!” Jason pulled back, his face screwed up with anger. Rebecca wanted to tell him to shut up and go with it, but that might have been crossing a line somewhere.

  “Had to shut you up somehow,” Danny said smiling, his hands now on Jason’s shoulders.

  “Did you lose a bet?” Jason asked angrily. “Fuck you, Danny. And tell Mitch to fuck off as well.”

  Jason turned and ran down the stairs, pushing past students as they came up. When Danny turned around Rebecca was startled to see he was close to tears. Maybe not so beige after all.

  “He–” Danny started to say as he reached the landing.