Black Dog

by Rachel Neumeier

  Grayson looked thoughtfully at the Mallory brothers. “I think it would be better if there were no ‘them.’ No ‘us.’ Only Dimilioc. Thirty black wolves and a reasonable number of humans with proper blood ties, and as many of the Pure as we can find.”

  Benedict seemed subdued by the Master’s flat tone, but James smacked his hand down on the table in open anger. “You’ll turn Dimilioc into a mockery of itself! A wild pack filled with internal division and murder, black dogs with no history, with no ties to each other or to us! They may call themselves by our name, but whatever exists by that name, it will not be Dimilioc! How can you consider this?”

  “I think the proper phrase,” Keziah said to him, with cutting sarcasm, “is, ‘a mockery of what Dimilioc once was’. You are much reduced, aren’t you? A fact I don’t think you emphasized much during your invitation. That is why the Master considers this. When this enemy of yours brings his pack of black dogs and shadow shifters against Dimilioc again, what do you want to do? Face him with seven true Dimilioc wolves, pure of heart and bloodline? That would certainly end your difficulties.”

  James Mallory stared at her.

  “So, we do thank you for your invitation, which has brought us into your danger,” Keziah added mockingly. “And you had better thank us for accepting, Irishman, and for fighting alongside Dimilioc, and for remaining now, when we might go to your enemy instead.”

  James opened his mouth, but then closed it again without saying anything.

  Before the silence could become too fraught, Grayson said smoothly, “We are pleased you and your sister accepted Dimilioc’s invitation, to be sure, Keziah. When we win, you will be well placed within Dimilioc.”

  “Yes,” murmured Keziah, smiling with slow, deliberately seductive aggression. “That’s why we’re still here.” But Natividad saw how she glanced at her sister, a swift fleeting glance, and was suddenly sure that Keziah had come to Dimilioc for exactly the reason Alejandro had – to protect her sister. It almost made her want to like the beautiful black dog girl, which was uncomfortable because she was scared of her.

  “Fine. Fine. Wonderful.” James glared at Grayson. “But we need wolves who are truly Dimilioc! Not ragged strays with less control than a moon-bound shifter! Not stray black dogs who can’t walk down a city street without dealing out wholesale slaughter…”

  One corner of Grayson’s mouth twitched upward. “James, please. No, certainly not.”

  “The ones we bring in will be Dimilioc,” Zachariah said quietly. “Given time. They or their sons.”

  “Dimilioc will be burned to ash and dust before they have sons!” James said furiously. “The ones who can have sons!”

  Amira’s face tightened and she looked down, though Natividad thought James had not deliberately aimed that barb at the black dog girls. Keziah’s lips curved in a faint, amused smile. She ate a bite of ham, appearing untouched by any of this argument.

  “We can control them until they learn to control themselves,” said Ezekiel.

  “Control them! They will be a worse enemy to us than that Vonhausel, because they’ll be on the inside rather than the outside! How can you not see that?” James looked from Grayson to Zachariah to Ezekiel and back to Grayson. Meeting only a bland, blank look from the stronger Dimilioc wolves, he shoved his chair back, got to his feet, and turned to walk out.

  “James,” said Grayson, and despite his fury the other man stopped, though he did not turn.

  “Go to Boston,” Grayson told him. “Bring me Andrew and Russell Meade and their sisters. They already believe that belonging to Dimilioc is a privilege. Bring them to me burning with a desire to earn that privilege.”

  James still did not turn around. But before he stalked out, he gave a short nod.

  “He’ll do well for us,” Zachariah said after he had gone.

  “Of course he will,” said Grayson, and ate a biscuit.

  Benedict, who had been sitting very still while his brother argued with the Master, now risked a glance up. “I could go with him, Master.”

  Grayson gave the young man a brief smile. “Thank you, Benedict, but no. I want you here.” He transferred his attention to Ezekiel. “And I want you to return from Chicago as quickly as possible.”

  “If Vonhausel–” Natividad began.

  “Our enemy lost many of his black dogs today,” Grayson said calmly. “I imagine that those who remain will be wondering whether attacking Dimilioc was such a clever idea. Some will certainly slip away into the forest to look for easier hunting elsewhere. Vonhausel himself may want to attack again today or tomorrow, but I believe he’ll discover he must find black dogs to replace his losses, or else he will have to make a good many moon-bound shifters and then wait for the full moon before he can attack.”

  “That’s all true,” agreed Miguel.

  Grayson’s eyebrows rose at this impudence, but he said nothing. Natividad hoped Miguel was right and Grayson’s analysis was correct. It had better be. If Alejandro was gone, if he and Ezekiel and James Mallory were gone and all those black dogs came again… Her brother had already come home once to find burned rubble and the bones of his kin. Natividad didn’t think he could bear that again. She and Miguel wouldn’t like it very much, either.

  “You are finished with your breakfast?” Grayson said to Benedict Mallory. “Good. Go see how the cleanup is coming. Tell Harrison I want to see him. Then you may help Ethan with any little chores that may remain. Zachariah, if you would be so kind as to take Miguel into town and buy him a real gun. Whatever he wants.”

  “Half a dozen rifles,” said Miguel, adding hurriedly when Grayson turned his head and lifted one heavy eyebrow, “Please, sir. Maybe a dozen, if that’s alright?”

  The Master surveyed him. “You plan to break them? Lose them? Designate each for a particular day of the week?”

  “Well,” Miguel said cautiously, “Any human can handle a gun loaded with silver. Those two human women James is supposed to bring? And there’s Natividad, sir. She isn’t as good as I am, but she does know how to shoot.”

  Grayson said, “How reassuring.”

  The Master’s dry tone evidently reminded Miguel of the obvious fact that not every Dimilioc black wolf would wish to put silver-loaded guns into human hands. He said quickly, “You should make use of us; you know you should, especially right now when you’re so hard-pressed. Human allies are something Vonhausel won’t have, isn’t that right? Not if his black dogs are so violent and shadow-driven, they won’t tolerate humans, will they? Or if they do they’ll kill them too quickly to use them properly–”

  Grayson held up a hand, stopping this urgent flood of persuasion. He said to Zachariah, “A dozen rifles. Let the boy choose them.”

  Zachariah nodded. “If you’re certain.”

  “Certain of the necessity,” said Grayson.

  Benedict started to speak, stopped. Grayson looked at him. “Nothing, sir,” muttered the younger black wolf, dropping his gaze.

  “Good. You may help Ethan, but first I want you to get on the Internet and order a lot of silver or silver alloy – Miguel, make a list of what you need. Include the proper equipment for casting your own ammunition. You do know how to make ammunition? Good. Go make up that list now.”

  The Master shifted his gaze back to Benedict as Miguel pushed back his chair and went out. “Be certain to ask for same-day shipping,” he said to the young black wolf. “I don’t imagine they’ll manage that, but it would be good if they made the attempt. Remember to call the post office in town and tell them to notify us when the parcels arrive.”

  “Sir,” Benedict acknowledged.

  “I will show you appropriate rooms,” Grayson said to the girls. “Natividad, you may come with me. You are, I trust, capable of working the Beschwichtigend?”

  Natividad nodded, trying not to look nervous. The Calming would counter their natural bloodlust to kill the Pure, but it would not actually make the black dog girls like her, she knew. Amira just looked scared
, Natividad wasn’t afraid of her, she felt sorry for her – but she was afraid of Keziah. Alejandro laid a supportive hand on Natividad’s shoulder, glaring warningly at Keziah. Amira cringed, but Keziah met Alejandro’s eyes, arched an elegant eyebrow, and smiled faintly.

  Ezekiel stood, a smooth movement that somehow implied menace. He said to Grayson, “You intend to give them the brown suite? I’ll show them where it is.” It was not exactly a challenge, Natividad thought – but it was not far off. It certainly was not a request.

  Grayson met the younger black wolf’s eyes for a long moment. Neither looked aside, but Ezekiel said easily, “If that’s alright with you, Master.”

  Grayson lifted heavy shoulders in a minimal shrug. “That might be best. Yes, very well. I’ll have instructions for you before you leave, however. See me tonight. Benedict, since Ezekiel will be otherwise occupied, book an early flight for him.” He looked at Alejandro. “You’ll go to Chicago with Ezekiel.”

  “We’ll be leaving early,” Ezekiel said. “Be ready to go an hour before dawn.” His voice, light and mocking, made it clear that he knew perfectly well that Alejandro wanted to protest Grayson’s order but did not dare argue with the Master.

  Natividad gave her brother a quick look. Of course this was a test of his obedience, and maybe of Ezekiel’s, and probably of the black dog girls as well. She didn’t like that at all. She trusted Grayson – well, mostly – but not Keziah. And what if Vonhausel brought his shadow pack back against Dimilioc while Alejandro was gone to Chicago with Ezekiel? What then?

  She could see the same questions had occurred to Alejandro. He wouldn’t like to go anywhere and leave her or Miguel behind in Dimilioc – he didn’t even want to let her go anywhere alone with Ezekiel and Keziah right now, whatever Grayson said. At least she could help with that. She said quickly, “You can come with me, you can help me, ‘Jandro, alright?”

  “With the Beschwichtigend?” Ezekiel said, amused.

  Natividad tried to look astonished, as though every Pure woman needed her black dog brother to help her work magic. “Of course!”

  Ezekiel lifted his eyebrows, but merely stood aside, looking expectantly at Keziah. The girl rose with graceful poise. Amira stood up reluctantly, keeping her sister between herself and the Dimilioc executioner. Ezekiel appeared not to notice. Natividad wondered if he was actually trying to be kind to the little girl, or if he just didn’t care about her at all.

  Ezekiel led the way into the hallway and lifted a hand, directing them all toward the stairs. “You’ll find the brown suite comfortable,” he said easily, speaking to Keziah. “Or if you don’t, simply tell Grayson so. I’m sure we have rooms that would please you.” He added without a pause and in exactly the same pleasant tone, “If you touch Natividad while I’m gone, I’ll make you into an example for the ages.”

  Alejandro’s jaw tightened – he was offended, Natividad knew, because he thought it was his place to make threats like that on her behalf. But he said nothing. She wasn’t a bit offended. She was relieved and even flattered, because if Ezekiel would defend her even after looking at Keziah, well, wow.

  Amira flinched, but Keziah just smiled and tossed her hair back over her shoulders, the crystals in her earrings ringing against one another like tiny bells. She looked very beautiful and elaborately sexy. “Will you?”

  Ezekiel turned and strode up the stairs. As he walked, he shifted to his black dog form and instantly back to human, then the black dog, then human again – shifting completely with each step, a sharp blinking strobe of alternating forms, impossibly smooth and fast. The steps creaked every time he shifted to the massive black dog shape. His claws scored the wood, smoke and ash swirled with his movements; then the next step would be a light human tread. He turned at the first landing and leaned negligently on the banister, a slim human youth. But his shadow pooled at his feet, so dense even Natividad could see it clearly. He said softly, straight to Keziah, “Do you think Thos Korte made me his executioner as a joke? You can challenge me, if you like. I wouldn’t mind at all.”

  Keziah smiled and said, her tone amused, “Well, perhaps not today.” But she also looked aside.

  “As long as you’re sure,” said Ezekiel. “The brown suite?” He turned and walked up the stairs, not at all concerned to have the black dog girls at his back.

  The brown suite consisted of five interconnecting rooms, all in taupe and gold, brown and warm ivory. The largest room, with a beautiful fireplace, soft chairs and lovely wrought iron lamps, had plenty of space to do the Aplacando. Alejandro helped Natividad roll the thick rugs out of the way, then, at her gesture, opened a window to let in unfiltered daylight and air – the air was freezing, but that was alright. She gestured for the girls to stand several feet apart in the middle of the bare floor and drew a separate pentagram around each with a handful of sunlight and the whispered words her mother had taught her. Amira cowered when her sister gave her a little push away, but Keziah gave her a stern look and said something in Arabic or whatever language it was they spoke, and the little girl obediently crouched down inside her own pentagram. Natividad wished she could say something to reassure Amira, but of course there was nothing she could say that would help. She hurried a little so Amira would feel better as soon as possible.

  But working the Aplacando itself actually felt kind of… strange. Natividad hadn’t actually done it before – of course she knew how, of course Mamá had shown her, the Aplacando was the most important magic of all and every Pure girl learned it early. But actually working it felt strange. Almost, Natividad thought, like lifting a stone that was actually made out of paper, or stepping off a step that wasn’t there. She might be doing it wrong… but she didn’t think she could have made a mistake doing it now, when it really mattered.

  She did the Aplacando for Amira first – maybe it just felt strange because the little girl was so young or because Amira didn’t resist. But then it was exactly the same for Keziah, and Natividad just didn’t believe Keziah should be especially easy to work magic on. Stepping back, she frowned at Keziah. “I think… I think maybe that wasn’t the first time anybody ever did the Calming for you. Was it?”

  Keziah smiled, though without much humor. She shrugged. “All the Pure know how to do the Beschwichtigend, so why not? Anything to make Dimilioc happy. We found a Pure woman as soon as we could, as soon as we came to this country.” Her voice was smooth and mocking, but she also put out a hand to gather her little sister close to her side.

  Amira bowed her head and rubbed a thumb along the scar on her face, glancing covertly at Natividad through her lashes. Natividad smiled at her, and though the little girl didn’t exactly smile back, she almost seemed to want to.

  Alejandro said unexpectedly to Keziah, “No one will touch your sister, you know. You think you don’t like the Pure, but Natividad would be very upset if anyone harmed your sister – so no one will harm her. That is what the Pure do for black dogs. If you become part of Dimilioc, you will learn that.”

  Keziah opened her mouth, but shut it again without making the cutting response she probably thought of first. Her uncertainty made her seem suddenly younger and less… sophisticated, or something. She looked at Natividad as though it had occurred to her for the first time that she might be a real person even though she was not a black dog.

  “And you won’t harm Natividad,” Alejandro added. “Because everyone else would be very upset if you did.” His gaze met Keziah’s, and neither of them looked away. After a moment, Keziah said, still not breaking that stare, “Yes, that part was clear enough.”

  “Well, then, how nice we have everything settled,” Ezekiel said briskly. “I’m sure Grayson will be ecstatic. And even more so if we are all still alive in the morning, so please keep that in mind if you choose to fight. Also, please, not indoors. Grayson is liable to be quite annoyed if the furniture gets broken.” He glanced at Natividad and tipped his head toward the door, an invitation she accepted with alacrity, though not without a
quick backward glance at her brother, who, surprising her, showed no inclination to follow.

  “They are going to fight,” she said uneasily, as soon as the door closed behind herself and Ezekiel. “I should–”

  “I suspect not today or tonight,” Ezekiel interrupted her smoothly. “No, Natividad, trust me for this. After your Beschwichtigend? She may posture, and so may your brother, but neither will actually want to fight for some time. I only warned them because the furniture can suffer merely from posturing and Grayson really would be annoyed.”

  Ezekiel sounded uncharacteristically relaxed himself. Natividad gave him a sharp look, but didn’t say the first thing that came to her tongue, which was, “You don’t want to fight now, either, do you?” She wondered if a really big clue to why Ezekiel was so determined to have her had just hit her between the eyes.

  “Now, where shall I escort you? Plenty of time left for packing the paltry few tools of my trade…” Natividad didn’t even want to know what those might be, “and with Benedict haranguing the airport into a convenient flight time on my behalf, I’m entirely at leisure. Shall I show you the rest of the house? Alas, the gardens are not very scenic at the moment…”

  “The kitchen?” Natividad suggested diffidently. “Do you think Zachariah would be offended if I made bread or something? Cinnamon rolls? If you have cinnamon?” She added, at Ezekiel’s raised eyebrow, “I would like to. I would like to… to do something with my hands.”

  Ezekiel nodded soberly. “I think I can safely promise you that no one will be offended if you make cinnamon rolls.”

  He helped her find mixing bowls, and then the flour and sugar – the canisters were hidden in a cabinet. The cinnamon was in the spice rack, but the levadura was in the freezer, which Natividad would never have guessed. It took her some time to remember the English word – yeast – but then she was pleasantly surprised to find that Ezekiel knew where it was kept. Waving away the offer of measuring cups and spoons, she began to scoop things together in the largest bowl. She asked, tentatively, not looking at him, “So, how long ago did Thos Korte make you his executioner?”