by Jessica Snow
“Well, I might need you to get smart on Aklark ways if this takes more than a day or two,” Edward said. “There’s a lot of what you might call internal tribal stuff. I can maneuver that pretty well. I might need you to talk with the Kenai, although I know a lot of them decently well. We’ll talk about it as it happens.”
They landed soon afterward, Edward climbing out of the side of the helicopter to see Peter Alces, the Alpha of Clan Kenai, come out of the control building. Edward raised his hand in greeting, stopping when he saw how pale Peter looked. After the slaughter of his Alpha Male and Female at the manor attack, Peter had been elected Alpha of Clan Kenai, and Edward thought he’d been doing well. Now, though . . . “Lord Kenai, it’s been too long.”
“Cut the crap Edward. I’m still just Peter . . . unless you want me to spend the entire visit calling you Lord Stormstout,” Peter said, his voice sounding raspy. Still, he tried to force a smile until he winced as Edward and he shook hands. “I see living in the city hasn’t made you weaker.”
“Peter, this is Magnus Fiachan,” Edward said, introducing the Lockwood Lycan in the formal style, first and last name. “He’s my pilot, and with your permission, I’d like him to tag along with me while I have a visit with my family.”
“Of course. You’re well met, Magnus Fiachan,” Peter said, offering his hand. “May your time in the Kenai territory be peaceful and pleasant.”
“Thank you, Lord Kenai,” Magnus replied, not wanting to violate any Lycan protocols. He hadn’t been invited to use Peter’s first name, and as a lower-ranked Lycan, he would risk causing an incident if he did. “I am honored to be invited.”
“Peter. A year and a half ago, I was probably lower in rank than you are,” Peter said, his voice still weak. He turned and coughed into his hand, making Edward lift his eyebrow in surprise. “I know, bad timing. Seems to be something pretty nasty going around, and with the stress of the job, I’m a bit worn down. Remember, Edward, I wasn’t born to be an Alpha. I just took over when I had to. I’d be a lot happier running the auto repair shop for my day job like I was.”
“That attack put us all on different paths,” Edward said thoughtfully. “If it hadn’t been for that, I’d still be pulling trees out of the woods.”
“Most likely with your . . . ahem . . . bare hands,” Peter joked lightly, his voice still not that strong. “Well, I’d offer you an escort, but since you know the territory . . .”
“A truck is all we really need,” Edward finished, giving Peter a half-smile. “It was half the reason I wanted to come up. I missed driving the old roads.”
“What was the other half?” Peter asked, and Edward patted his jeans. “Denim?”
“You realize how rarely I get to wear this stuff in the city?” Edward asked with a laugh. “I like the combat boots, but I miss the denim. It’ll be nice to wear it again.”
“Where are you staying?” Peter asked. “I’ll make sure your bags are delivered.”
“Oh, we’ll stay at my old place. Last time I talked with Dad, he said that it’s still mine,” Edward said lightly. “We’ll just throw them into the back of my pickup. You were able to bring it, right?”
“Tuned up and waiting for you,” Peter reassured them, waiting as Magnus grabbed the three duffel bags out of the Blackhawk. “Whoa, what’s this?”
“Brought some goodies from the city too,” Edward said, opening the black bag that Magnus handed him and taking out a few wrapped packages for Peter. “Nothing much, but I thought maybe you’d be able to appreciate some stuff. I won’t insult you with steaks or anything—you have better than I do right now—but if your people check out the cargo area, there’s another few boxes that Kim said I should bring up for you. The Kenai ladies should be feeling quite beautiful after what Kim insisted I bring. Hope your males have been staying in shape.”
“I’ll be glad to accept it,” Peter said with a light laugh, but still, he looked distracted. “Anything for the Aklark?”
“Of course. The boxes are marked,” Edward replied. “I’ll have Dad send someone to pick up the things for the Aklark. In the meantime, we should get going.”
The truck was familiar to Edward, and as he settled behind the steering wheel, he looked over at Magnus. “Thoughts?”
“That was weird,” Magnus said as Edward started the truck and pulled away. “And that line about him being sick, unprepared for the job . . . that’s bullshit.”
“What do you mean?” Edward asked. “You don’t think he’s under stress?”
“I know he is,” Magnus replied. “But I also had to study Peter’s bloodlines when there was the issue of Kenai succession. He’s got stronger bloodlines than most Lycans, and while I wouldn’t compare them to, say, those of Lady Thornblood, there’s no reason he should be getting worn down by the job. The Kenai aren’t a high-stress clan.”
Edward nodded. “The Kenai don’t have a lot of the political problems the other clans have. Let’s face it, they’re pretty isolated up here, with no other big clans around for hundreds of miles.”
“Which means being the Kenai Alpha is a pretty easy job compared to some,” Magnus replied. “No offense to Peter, but I’m pretty sure I could to the job if I had to.”
“You probably could,” Edward said. They pulled away from the heliport, driving toward the main portion of town. “I’d give you the tour of town, but there isn’t much to it. First, though, let’s go down to the diner. It’s sort of the social hub of the Aklark and Kenai communities in the area.”
The drive was short, and when Magnus got out of the truck, he could see that it was just as rural as he’d expected. The container diner certainly looked like it’d just been dropped in the middle of the dirt parking lot, and as he zipped up the light flight jacket that he’d worn, he kept his thoughts to himself. Edward, however, had grown up around the area, and as he looked around the area, he inhaled deeply, filling his chest with the scents of home. “It’s not much,” he admitted in a wondering voice, “but it’s home.”
“It’s got a certain charm,” Magnus said uncertainly. “I mean, you definitely don’t have any problems with pollution. And let’s be honest, monthly changes have to be a lot easier for the Kenai than for the Lockwoods.”
“Come on. I’m sure my father will be here. If not, my mother is the main cook,” Edward said with a laugh. “We’ll see if we can fill that Lycan belly of yours.”
Magnus followed Edward inside, his nose crinkling as they walked through the door. Honestly, he thought, it didn’t smell all that good in the diner. There was a slight burned odor in the air, and there weren’t a lot of customers inside.
However, there was one man whom Magnus identified immediately, Ben Stormstout. Not only did he share a lot of traits with his son, but Magnus had seen the man before when he’d come to the Lockwood Manor for the mating of his son and Kimberly. Magnus doubted if Ben remembered him, though. He was the sort of man who didn’t pay attention to underlings.
“Dad!” Edward said, approaching his father with restrained happiness. Magnus could see Edward’s eyes flicker around. Things obviously weren’t right. Not that Edward was going to say anything at the moment.
“Edward, it’s good to see you!” Ben Stormstout said, getting off the stool that he was perched on and approaching his son. Magnus had to do a double-take, almost, as Edward looked nearly dwarfed by his father who, despite appearing middle-aged and going to a bit of spread in the gut and ass, was still a good three inches taller and perhaps a hundred pounds heavier than his son.
The two embraced, the force of their claps on each other’s back nearly physical in the air itself. Edward was barely fazed, though, as he turned and indicated Magnus. “Dad, this is Magnus Fiachan, from Clan Lockwood. Magnus, this is my father, Ben Stormstout. Just Ben.”
“Ben, it’s a pleasure,” Magnus said, offering his hand. “Thank you for having me here.”
“Well, when Edward here explained why my daughter-in-law couldn’t travel, I tota
lly understood,” Ben said in a wide grin that Magnus didn’t trust right from the start. He remembered what Kim had called Ben, a smiler and a backslapper, but a politician. He reminded himself to watch his words around him. “So you’re Kimberly’s secretary?”
“I prefer the term chief coffee fetcher, but sure,” Magnus said with a self-effacing smirk. Let the cocky older man think what he wanted. Magnus would be perfectly happy being underestimated. “I just do my best to help her with the office work.”
“Magnus has been an important assistant to not just Kimberly, but to Keith and to Barwulf before them,” Edward interjected, boosting Magnus up. “He’s just the sort who never takes any credit for himself.”
“Well met, and enjoy your visit,” Ben said, squeezing Magnus’s hand until he thought his bones would break before relenting and turning to his son. “Although I’m still not sure what brings you up here, Edward.”
“A couple of concerns on the herbal tea supply mostly, Dad, although I wanted to get reacquainted with the homelands before bringing the little ones up, hopefully soon,” Edward replied. “Actually, Dad, I’m kinda glad I did. Peter’s looking like he’s come down with a cold, and to be blunt . . . this place looks a little under standard.”
“Your mother’s come down with something too,” Edward said, shaking his head. “Whatever version of the common cold that’s coming through, it’s kicking a lot of butts right now. Seems to be affecting us more than . . . well, them. Still, the diner’s not too bad. We’ve got some new people running the back, and they just need to cover the gaps while your mother’s ill.”
Ben ordered some food for all of them, and while Magnus thought it wasn’t the worst patty melt he’d ever eaten, it certainly wasn’t as good as the near-mythical stew that Keith and Kim had eaten for their first visit to the diner. During the whole meal, Edward and Ben talked, and Magnus took a seat a few stools down near the end, listening without interrupting.
The more Ben talked, the less Magnus trusted him. He didn’t know what, exactly, it was about him. It wasn’t that anything he was saying was a clear lie on the surface. If he had to say, it was more the space between the words, if that made any sense at all.
After the meal, Edward and Magnus left after shaking hands with Ben again, grins and back slaps all around. Outside, the air was cool to Magnus as he inhaled the clean air. “Well?”
“Let’s go to Container Village,” Edward said simply, heading for the truck. He started it up, and as they drove, Magnus kept his silence. Finally, after about a half mile, Edward slowed down, not pulling off the road but giving them more time. “He’s full of shit.”
“I know that,” Magnus deadpanned, smirking. “But you might want to fill me in on more. I don’t know him like you do.”
“I can’t put my finger on it just yet,” Edward admitted, sighing. “I’m going to need your help more than I thought, Magnus. When we get to Container Village, I’m going to split off from you. You memorized the map I gave you, right?”
“I’ve got it in my pocket too,” Magnus said, pulling out his cellphone. “What do you want me to do?”
“Go around and see what there is to see. You’re Lycan, so I don’t expect a lot of people to open up to you too much, but you’ve got two good eyes and two sharp ears. Meet me back at my place right around sunset. I’m going to check out a few other of the operations. If you want a starting point, go to the greenhouses where the herbal teas are grown. Nobody would be surprised to find a Lockwood Lycan there. I’ll be up with the loggers at first. That was my last job.”
“Deal,” Magnus said, looking out as Edward turned off the main road, heading down a well-paved but certainly private road. It wound through the trees for about a quarter mile before opening up into a clearing that had nearly thirty metal shipping containers arranged in neat rows like a trailer park.
Edward drove in and pulled over to the fifth container on the right, parking in front of it and shutting off the engine. “Welcome to Container Village.”
Chapter 5
Magnus looked around Container Village, taking it in. He knew he had a different perspective than a lot of Lockwood Lycans, who were, despite their Lycan natures, mostly urban or small-town. They’d benefitted from being part of a large, wealthy clan that could blend seamlessly into one of the biggest cities in the Northeast and therefore, could trade with the regular population of humans.
The Kenai and Aklark obviously couldn’t. But Magnus remembered the years between the fall of his original clan and his father’s outcasting and the time when Barwulf Waldwyck had allowed him to settle in Lockwood lands. He remembered the months of living in a crappy trailer park where each trailer had a tinier plot than even the poorest of the container houses, where he’d been forced by his father to go around the small area they had in wolf form to piss and mark their territory, knowing the local pit bulls and other dogs wouldn’t dare cross a Lycan’s border.
So he didn’t feel all that out of place as he looked around the village. It wasn’t all that bad-looking, really. Each of the containers looked like they were in some stage or another of being ‘normalized’, with all of them showing electrical and plumbing hookups evident. Most of them had at least a coat of paint on the exterior, with some of them even being sided with vinyl or some other means to make them look like normal houses. While maybe not as luxurious as the Lockwood Towers, Magnus didn’t think the Aklark were doing all that badly. If anything, the houses looked like they could take anything the Canadian winter could dish out and shrug it off, looking for more.
Watching Edward walk off in the other direction, Magnus took a moment to think before heading toward the south end of the village, where if he remembered right, the tea growing greenhouses were. They were a new addition and weren’t actually part of the village. Instead, Magnus found a dirt access road that led for a little under a mile to the greenhouses.
As he walked, he passed nearly a half-dozen Aklark, each of them like Edward, tall and broad with massive frames that supported huge bodies. Even the Aklark women were big, easily equaling Kim Waldwyck in height while probably being equal or more in weight to him.
“Hi,” he said to one who was trimming back the undergrowth that was threatening to creep into the road. “Is this the way to the tea houses?”
“Down the road . . .” the woman said, guarded but not unfriendly. “You’re not Kenai.”
“Lockwood, Sister,” Magnus said, falling into polite Lycan language. He knew the Aklark didn’t use it, but he also knew how to be charming when he had to be, and a little polite language always helped. “I’m here with Edward Stormstout on a visit. I like the tea and hoped to see how it’s produced.”
The woman’s eyes thawed a little, but she still didn’t crack a smile. Tough nut to crack, the Aklark, it seemed. “It’s about a half mile. You’ll see it. So Edward’s in town? Did he bring the babies?”
“No, they’re not ready for the helicopter flight just yet,” Magnus replied, still smiling. If his charm didn’t work, babies were pretty universal as well. “But he’s looking forward to showing them their homelands.”
“And do they look like bear or Lycan?”
Magnus shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. You’d have to ask him. I wasn’t with them when they had their first transformation.”
He kept going, wondering about the woman’s comment. He was honestly curious himself, and in his mind, he tried to imagine what a creature that was halfway between the two would look like. Then again, he didn’t know what it felt like internally for Edward to shift forms, and part of him hoped it wasn’t as painful as it was for him. Maybe it was because of his only being half-Lycan, but he thought it was more painful for him to shift than it was for someone of full blood. It certainly seemed like the Waldwycks could shift form easier than he could. It wasn’t that he couldn’t do it. He just didn’t unless he had to or could spend a long time in one form or the other.
“I should talk with Lady Thornblood,” he s
aid to himself, thinking of Melanie Waldwyck, Keith’s mate. She’d only been shifting for a few months herself, although her bloodline was very strong, having been created by Akiko Thornblood herself. Maybe she could give him some insight.
The road turned to the left, and Magnus saw the greenhouses up ahead. He was surprised as he approached. They didn’t look nearly as professional as he’d have expected. There were gaps in some of the panels, and as Magnus came closer, he thought that the herbs or whatever was being used for the tea was dying in the houses.
“What the hell?” he asked, approaching the first of the greenhouses. “This isn’t right.”
“No, it isn’t,” a voice said from the other side of the greenhouse, and Magnus looked toward the sound. The wavy plastic and glass distorted the image, but he could tell that it was a woman from the voice.
“Hello?” he said, moving toward the end of the greenhouse. The figure moved too, and as he approached, he slowed down. “I’m Magnus Fiachan, of Clan Lockwood.”
“I figured you were Lockwood,” the woman said. “I can smell your Lycan-ness, and you’re city, too. No offense.”
Magnus stepped around the corner, stopping as he saw the woman. She was definitely Aklark, equal in height to him, and maybe they’d tip the scales at about the same weight, too, but that was where the similarities stopped. She had nearly waist-length black hair that was braided into a thick cable that draped over her shoulder, and her eyes were gray and almond-shaped, with high cheekbones and a calm demeanor to her face that left her with a sort of regal beauty.
Her body was equally as impressive, Magnus quickly noticed. Her shoulders, while broad, weren’t overly muscular but instead acted as a frame to her voluptuous body. Magnus’s first thought about her build was to call her ‘thick,’ and in a good way. While her waist wasn’t as trim as the average Lycan woman’s, she still had an hourglass to her figure with the size of her breasts and the width of her hipbones, which tapered down to strong looking thighs inside her jeans. All in all, Magnus thought . . . she was hot.
