“Huh,” said Ezekiel.
Alejandro glanced at the verdugo, waiting to see if he would explain his surprise.
“The road’s clear.”
It was not clear. There was a lot of snow on the road. But then Alejandro blinked, realizing what Ezekiel meant. He could see, now the verdugo had pointed it out, how the snow blew sideways off the road, piling up instead under the trees. Away from the road, the snow was much deeper, maybe chest high in places.
“Your sister is truly gifted,” Ezekiel said. He sounded pleased about it. He sounded possessive. Alejandro set his jaw against showing a sudden blaze of angry resentment. Ezekiel cast him an amused glance and drove a little faster.
Ezekiel had not called ahead, but nevertheless the Dimilioc wolves were waiting, gathered in a tight-knit group on the front porch, just as they had been when Alejandro and Miguel and Natividad had arrived. Neither Miguel nor Natividad were among them. Alejandro wanted to see the twins, para asegurarse de estaban bien. But it was good they were not here, at this moment when violence burned in the air like fire.
Grayson Lanning stood at the front, autocratic and immovable. Harrison Lanning stood to his left side, aloof; Zachariah Korte to his right, disdainful and curious. Benedict Mallory and Ethan Lanning leaned side by side against the snow-covered railing. A little to Alejandro’s surprise, Keziah stood behind and to one side of the Master, hip cocked and arms crossed and black, black hair pouring like a waterfall to her hips, looking scornful and superior and elegant. Even Amira was there, though she had tucked herself half out of sight behind her sister.
The Dimilioc wolves may have gathered like that when Alejandro and the twins had come here, but that had not been the same. They had been afraid, but they had come into Dimilioc territory deliberdamente. They had had a plan, and followed it through the fear and the doubt, and it had worked – at least so far as to bring allies to their side against Vonhausel so they did not face him alone. So, they had been right to come.
It was different for Thaddeus, for his family. The boy was too young to understand what Dimilioc was, but not too young to feel the deadly strength of the black wolves. He clung to his mother, but he did not bury his face against her the way a human child might: he was angry as much as frightened. He might cling, but he was ready to push away, go into the cambio de cuerpo, fight. Even a little puppy like that one would fight.
DeAnn held her son tightly. If the child began to change, she would try to stop him. Alejandro could tell by the way she walked a little apart from Thaddeus that she thought there was nothing she could do to protect her husband. She thought Grayson Lanning was going to kill him. Thaddeus thought so, too. That was very obvious. It was almost painful to watch – it was so easy for Alejandro to imagine exactly how the big black dog felt. Alejandro wished, momentarily but strongly, that he had defied Ezekiel just so far as to tell Thaddeus the truth. Papá would have told him. But as soon as he thought so, Alejandro was not sure. Maybe Papá, too, would have deferred to the Dimilioc executioner. But probably not out of fear. He had not dared, and so now Thaddeus had no hope.
Ezekiel had taken off the steel chains, but not the silver bracelets that mattered so much more. Thaddeus’s shadow had been pressed flat by the bright fire of that silver, but Alejandro could not imagine the black dog trying to fight now, even if he could get rid of the bracelets. The weight of all the powerful Dimilioc shadows filled the air, until it almost surprised Alejandro that the porch was not crushed under the load it had to bear, that the earth itself did not crack open in protest at the burden.
Thaddeus walked forward without lifting his gaze from the snow. A few feet from the steps that led up to the porch, he went down, not kneeling, but all the way down on his belly, his hands open, his face flat against the snow in absolute submission. Alejandro thought that Thaddeus might not realize that he appeared even bigger stretched out that way, his body dark against the white of the snow. He looked huge. Even bound with silver, his shadow radiated anger and power.
Grayson tilted his head, clearly pleased. Alejandro thought he was pleased by the black dog’s obvious strength as well as his surrender, but he was not sure.
“Keep an eye on the woman,” Ezekiel said to Alejandro. He strode past the prone black dog and leaped up to join the other Dimilioc wolves on the porch. He looked very young and slight beside the Lannings, but Harrison and even Grayson shifted aside for him as though he was much bigger than he really was, and Ezekiel accepted the space they yielded as his due. He gave no sign of weariness or injury, but the Dimilioc wolves turned their heads as they caught the scent of blood from the reopened cut. Ezekiel only said, pleasantly, before either of them could speak, “You didn’t specifically ask me to bring the pup, but I thought you might like a look at him.”
“That is an unexpected bonus,” Grayson agreed, his deep, gritty voice growling through the winter quiet. “And his existence is instructive.” He added to Thaddeus, “Up. Up, dog. Let us have a look at you.”
Thaddeus pushed himself up to kneeling, the muscles in his arms and shoulders bunching. But he obviously intended no challenge. He kept his head down, glancing covertly up at Grayson the way a weaker black dog would look at a stronger… though one on one, Alejandro was not absolutely certain Grayson would actually prove stronger. But of course that did not matter.
“You’ll kill me,” Thaddeus said, speaking straight to Grayson, ignoring all the other Dimilioc wolves. His voice was as deep as the Master’s, maybe deeper, rough with black dog anger. “That’s alright. That doesn’t matter. But don’t kill my son. He’s DeAnn’s son. She’s sensible – she’s smart. Let the boy alone and she’ll do what you want, anything you want. I swear she will.”
He still didn’t look at his wife, even when he said this. Alejandro did. He couldn’t help it. Natividad hated it when Alejandro spoke for her that way – she usually insisted on speaking for herself. But Thaddeus’ wife didn’t even change expression. She looked up, though; she looked into Grayson’s face, met his eyes. But then, maybe because she still held her black dog son in her arms, she lowered her gaze again immediately.
“Tell me you’ll let him live,” Thaddeus said. He looked directly into Grayson’s eyes just for an instant. “Just tell me that. Please. Before you kill me, tell me you’ll let him alone–” He stopped, with an abruptness that suggested he didn’t trust the steadiness of his voice.
Grayson studied him for a long moment. “Unusual, for a black dog to care so much.”
Thaddeus’ hands, set on his thighs, closed hard into fists. He said harshly, “What difference does it make to you? But if you want DeAnn for Dimilioc–”
Grayson held up a hand, and Thaddeus halted. The Master said calmly, “I’ve no intention of harming your son. A black dog’s life is hardly secure, but he will come to no harm here from any Dimilioc wolf. Not while he is still a child.” He paused and then asked, his deep voice making the question seem almost a threat, “Do you believe me?”
Thaddeus sat back on his heels. He stared at Grayson for a moment, then looked down again. He started to rub one big hand across his bald head, flinched from the silver band around his wrist and dropped his hand instead to rest again on his thigh. Clearly he did not know whether he believed Grayson or not – and did not know whether he should say that, or not.
“Well?” said the Dimilioc Master.
“I hope it’s true,” Thaddeus said. He glanced up. “I don’t know why you’d lie. Maybe it’s true. If you’re lying, I hope you kill me before you do him.”
“Take the silver off him,” Grayson said to Ezekiel. “Let’s take a look at him.”
That clearly surprised Thaddeus, who nevertheless held out his hands one after the other so that the Dimilioc verdugo could remove the silver bands. He took a deep, shuddering breath when they were gone, some of the tension easing out of his back and shoulders. But then his muscles visibly tightened again as his shadow suddenly expanded, filling out the space around him, so den
se it almost seemed it might take on physical form without him.
Alejandro half expected the huge black dog to explode into violence, but Thaddeus only took another breath, shut his eyes, and locked his shadow down tight with pure willpower. He did not otherwise move except to rub each wrist in turn, hard, as though trying to scrub away even the memory of the silver. His wrists showed marks, char-black against the dark brown of his skin, where the metal had burned him even through the leather backing.
DeAnn had given Grayson a sharp look when he’d ordered her husband freed from the silver. She said nothing, but she swung her black pup son down to stand on his feet beside her, though she kept hold of his hand. But the boy tugged, tugged again, black dog instinct driving him down. At last DeAnn let her son kneel, crouching so that she could keep an arm around his shoulders.
“Well?” Grayson said to Thaddeus.
The black dog flicked a glance up, then fixed his gaze firmly on the ground. “You expect a fight? I won’t fight.” He glanced up again, not quite as briefly. “You think I want black dog violence here? Now?”
“He’s had good control right through,” Ezekiel said casually to Grayson. “Once he got his shadow battened down in the first place. Which was, however, a little difficult. Alejandro was helpful there. It seems he’s picked up your special trick.”
The Dimilioc Master turned his powerful stare on Alejandro, who instantly dropped his gaze. It had not occurred to him that Grayson Lanning might not welcome a demonstration of that particular skill from any other black dog. If that had occurred to him at the time… he had no idea what else he might have done besides what he had done. He knew he would have lost control of his shadow if he hadn’t managed to use it to force the boy’s black dog down and back. He did not dare say that. So he said nothing.
Before Grayson could respond to Ezekiel’s comment, however, the front door of the house opened and Natividad stepped out onto the porch. All the Dimilioc wolves turned toward her, a powerful reordering of their interest that sent alarm of an entirely different kind down Alejandro’s spine. Only Ezekiel kept his attention tightly focused on Thaddeus. The black dog knew it, staying very still under the young verdugo’s cool gaze.
Grayson, obviously displeased, began, “Natividad–”
“I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “Really I am, I didn’t mean to disobey you, Grayson, only there’s a phone call. It’s Sheriff Pearson, you know?”
Grayson’s lip curled. “You may inform–”
“Yes, of course, only I think you should talk to him, I really do,” Natividad said with earnest rapidity. “I’m so glad you’re back,” she said to Alejandro, and added to Ezekiel, “You’re hurt, aren’t you? I’m sorry.” Alejandro gathered from her tone that there was some sort of trouble and that she was sorry for very practical reasons that the Dimilioc verdugo was injured. He saw Ezekiel catch this subtext too, and, a heartbeat later, Grayson, whose scowl deepened. The Master’s hard gaze went to Ezekiel, judging the extent to which he might have been impaired by injury and hard traveling.
“I’m perfectly fine,” Ezekiel assured him. He sounded fine: his voice was light and amused, edged with cutting scorn for anyone who might for even a moment think otherwise. He looked fine, too. It was hard for even Alejandro to guess how much the verdugo might be concealing, and he had seen the injury dealt and heard Ezekiel admit to being tired and in pain. As a tactic, yes, but he had admitted it.
Grayson grunted, said shortly, “Come with me, then. All of you, come with me.” He stepped toward the door, pausing only to jerk his head toward Thaddeus and add to Zachariah, “He’ll have to wait. You and Benedict may take him downstairs. All three of these can go in the main cage. Put Cass Pearson in one of the small cells.”
Alejandro found it impossible to get a clear picture of whatever the trouble was from overhearing Grayson’s conversation with the sheriff. In fact, Grayson’s side of the conversation consisted mostly of wordless mutters of annoyance. Alejandro wanted to ask Natividad for details, but his sister had vanished. That was unlike her; usually she and Miguel would both be hovering at the edges of any excitement. But neither of the twins was in evidence.
Easing away from the crowd of Dimilioc wolves was simple enough. No one called after him as he backed away, tucked himself through a doorway, and ran up the stairs three at a time to find his brother and sister.
They were, of course, in Natividad’s room, Natividad cross-legged on her bed and Miguel perched on the windowsill. That was fine. But they both looked up at Alejandro with guilty expressions. While unexpected, this was not actually a surprise. He glared at them both. “Well?”
“Well, I’m grounded, so you’re not supposed to be here,” Natividad said rapidly. “But–”
“Grounded!” He did not know whether to laugh or be angry. “What did you do?”
Natividad made an exasperated sound. “Ahora no es el tiempo para armar un escándalo, ‘Jandro! If Grayson agreed with Harrison grounding me, he ought to have left somebody else to answer the phone. Now things are happening, so I can’t still be grounded!”
Exasperating, stupid, foolish – she always thought she could get away with anything, that no one would ever really be angry with her. Alejandro said harshly, “You cannot defy–”
Miguel, holding up his hands, said quickly, “There’s trouble in Lewis, ‘Jandro, trouble with the black dogs, Vonhausel is attacking there and not here, they’re attacking right now. Listen, listen now: yesterday Natividad laid out a big mandala around half the town. It should have stopped any stray black dog from attacking Lewis, but–”
“I should probably tell you…” Natividad began tentatively.
“But surprise!” said Miguel, too focused on Alejandro to pay attention to her. “The attack there isn’t just some random black dog stray, right? The mandala’s holding them for the moment, Pearson says, but from what we hear, the black dogs are really serious about killing everybody. Maybe for fun, maybe for practice, maybe to hurt Dimilioc, we don’t know, but it’s bad. And it’s worse than it should be, because… Look, after that attack earlier, you’d think Vonhausel would have maybe twenty black dogs with him, right? Or not even so many if they got scared, which they should have been because we killed so many of them and they didn’t kill even one of us. Me entiendes?”
Alejandro grudgingly tilted his head. “Sí, sí, te entiendo.”
“Well, Sheriff Pearson says they think there are at least forty black dogs outside Lewis right now. Forty!”
“Grayson was really angry with Pearson,” Natividad put in. “And Harrison said don’t call on Dimilioc. But forty black dogs, that’s too many. Grayson can’t just stay back and let them kill all those people, only I don’t know how long my mandala will hold because, I tried to tell you, it came out a little strange.”
“Doesn’t matter how it came out,” said Miguel. “Not during the full moon. Not if there are forty black dogs trying to take it apart – and Vonhausel.”
Alejandro scowled. His brother was right. But he doubted Vonhausel really could have recruited so many black dogs. He said so, adding “Especialmente cuendo su primero ataque pue un fracas. Black dogs follow a leader who wins.”
“Perhaps they still expect Vonhausel to win,” Keziah suggested behind him. Alejandro didn’t whirl around because he wouldn’t let her see she had surprised him. But she had. He hadn’t heard her approach at all, but she was poised, long and elegant and negligently scornful, in the doorway of Natividad’s room. He was furious that she had come up so quietly and he had not heard her. She knew it, too. She smiled. “Or perhaps this enemy of yours has made a lot of little moon-called wolves,” she said smoothly. “Those townspeople, perhaps they do not know the difference between those little crazy moon-wolves and black dogs.”
“That’s a really good suggestion,” Miguel said warmly. “That could be exactly right, and if that’s all Vonhausel’s got, Lewis isn’t in a lot of danger, which would be great.”
K
eziah glanced his way, her lip curling contemptuously. Alejandro didn’t know whether he should laugh at his brother or snarl at Keziah, but before he could do either, Amira slid past her, met Natividad’s eyes, looked away – a black dog looking away from a Pure girl, she was a nervous creature – but then crept forward when Natividad held out a hand in invitation. She ducked her head submissively, afraid of Alejandro. Keziah straightened and glared at him, not submissive at all. The light from the window caught in the crystals of her earrings, scattering into pinpoints of refracted light, brilliant against the density of her shadow. But she stayed exactly where she was, in the doorway, not moving to follow her sister.
Alejandro, pretending not to notice Keziah’s aggressive stance, backed away from Natividad to let Amira come to her. Natividad gave him a warm smile, transferred the smile to Amira, and put her arm around the little girl’s thin shoulders when Amira came the rest of the way in a rush and tucked herself against Natividad’s side. Alejandro did not quite look at the child, in case Keziah saw his too-close attention as a threat to her sister. Keziah was not quite looking that way either, he saw – and no doubt for exactly the same reason.
Keziah said to Natividad, “All the time Amira asks, can she go visit the Pure girl? And I say no, she is not to have people visit her, she is being punished. But I think now you don’t care about that.”
“Well…” Natividad began.
Keziah glanced at Alejandro. She leaned against the doorframe, ostentatiously relaxed. “You said no one would hurt Amira. Because of your Pure sister. I thought, well, good, maybe it is even true. But now I think I will like your sister – because of mine.”
Alejandro gave her a short nod. “I almost think I might like you – because of my sister.”
Black Dog Page 21
