by Leslie Chase
"I think she's got a point, don't you, Maxwell?"
"You're just saying that because she agrees with you," he grumbled back, but Lenore could see him suppressing a rueful smile. She sat back in relief, wondering what had gotten in to her. Being wrapped in cotton wool 'for her own good' was patronizing and annoying.
"I'm sorry," she said, not even sure what she was apologizing for. "I didn't mean to shout at you."
"We might have deserved that, a little bit," he admitted. His sister punched him lightly on the arm, and he chuckled. Then his face grew serious.
"Very well, I'll tell you. But two things - first, this is private, and I mean that. You will not talk about it to anyone apart from us, or someone I okay. Second, you will have to take the time to let it sink in. I had hoped to bring you into this part of my life gradually; getting it all at once might be too much."
Lenore nodded, conflicted feelings filling her mind. On the one hand, the fact that he had been planning to let her into the secret parts of his life was a welcome confirmation of his feelings for her. On the other, it was daunting to think about what could be so serious, when his magical tiger-shifting didn't come with the same warnings!
"How do you think I make my money, Lenore?"
"Well, I…" kind of assumed you didn't. She stopped before she finished speaking that thought aloud, but he'd clearly picked up the gist.
"Hah, true, I did inherit a lot, and the family investments would take an effort to run down," he admitted, smiling. "But we're not just idle rich, you know. Aside from keeping an eye on our investments, this family has work which needs doing."
"We're troubleshooters," Penelope put in, pouring herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the table and sipping. Maxwell glared at her. "Sorry, sorry, I'll let you tell the story!"
"Thank you. Still, she's right. The trouble is that the magical world has to have its own solutions to a lot of problems. If you get mugged, you can call the police. But if a witch puts a curse on you, they won't be much help, and there aren't really enough of us out there to support a magical police force of our own,” Maxwell paused for a beat before continuing.
"Most of the time, people in the community handle their own problems. It's not pretty, but it is generally effective - anyone who's in the magical community generally has the ability to look after themselves. But sometimes there are issues which are a bit harder to deal with, and that's the kind of thing which our family has come to specialize in fixing. It can pay rather well, too."
"So, you're some kind of… arbitration specialists?" Lenore tried to wrap her head around that idea - seeing Maxwell and Penelope sitting at a table between witches and vampires or something, solving their problems, was a difficult image to take seriously.
"Not quite. We are generally called in a little later than that, and actually we rarely get called in at all. The threat of tigers coming to settle a dispute is generally enough to make people play nicely." Maxwell seemed uncharacteristically uncomfortable discussing the matter, frowning down at the table.
"It's usually only when an argument is threatening to come to the attention of the, um, mundane world."
"Mundane world? You mean, us?" Lenore interrupted. "People who aren't part of your magical community?"
"That's right. Usually everyone handles things in house, but when there's gunfights on the streets of London, something has gone badly wrong. And these days it's our business to fix this kind of thing."
"You mean, violently? You, you fight people? Kill people? For money?" Lenore stared at them, shock at the idea making her lightheaded. It shouldn't be a surprise, she told herself. She'd seen him pouncing on people as a tiger, claws and teeth ready to rend and tear. And she'd seen Penelope firing a pistol casually at their attackers as she was driving them away. But that had all seemed distant, like a dream or a story, until now.
"This is the part I was worried you wouldn't understand," Maxwell said, shooting Penelope a look that could have stripped paint. His sister shrugged, unconcerned. "When necessary, yes, we fight. Most of the time, the threat of our involvement is enough to keep things quiet. It's not as though anyone wants to fight a tiger, after all! And we aren't simply mercenaries or vigilantes, we only take cases where the Masters of the community agree someone needs to step in."
Lenore looked at the two of them, her mind spinning helplessly. She didn't know what she'd expected, but nothing had prepared her for this. The shock must have been clear on her face: Penelope poured her a glass of water and pushed it into her hand.
"Drink something, dear, and take a deep breath. I know it's a lot to take in, but look at it this way - better he tells you about it now than you finding out in weeks or months!"
A glance at Maxwell's grimly determined face had her wondering how long it might have taken him to decide to tell her about this on his own… whatever this was. He certainly didn't look happy at her reaction. And the sight of him upset made her feel almost ill. Lenore grimaced, swallowed a sip of her water, and tried to think of something constructive to say.
"Was that what you were doing at the museum? Was that… one of these disputes, being settled?"
"No," Maxwell said firmly. "That was a personal matter. I was genuinely interested in the sword, I'd heard a lot about the dueling blades and I am very curious as to how that one came to be in an Englishman's collection. I wanted to get a closer look at it, make sure it was genuine, but a silver-bladed talwar that has seen combat and is still usable? That couldn't really be anything else. And if it was a magical blade, then it would be safer for everyone for it to not be on display to the world.
"Others would be interested too, I knew that. It was a bit of a surprise that they came ready for a fight, I will admit. I certainly didn't intend for there to be any bloodshed."
"Just a robbery." Lenore heard the cold note in her voice and winced inwardly, but it was said.
Maxwell sighed and grimaced. "Yes, possibly. It is, after all, a family heirloom of a sort. More to the point, it's an artifact of magic, and it shouldn't be loose in the hands of people who don't know what they're doing with it.
"That's not the important thing, though. Once I'd met you, there was something much more interesting in play than the sword, and I wasn't about to let you get caught up in this more than you had to be. I can track down the sword later, my first priority was getting you back here safely."
"You can trust him on that," Penelope said, interrupting again. "He called me as soon as he got you to the hotel; meeting your one-and-only fated mate is quite a big deal for the family, you see, and he wanted to share. I'm glad that he did, otherwise I might not have been there to keep a discrete eye out for trouble."
Trouble which certainly found us, Lenore thought, remembering the armed men chasing them through the hotel. Without Penelope's warning, they'd have stood no chance of getting away.
"Thank you," she said weakly, her stomach in knots at the thought. Sure, the guns had been firing drugged darts rather than bullets, but she couldn't imagine that being kidnapped by the mysterious attackers would have had a great outcome. Penelope smiled and waved off the thanks casually, as though rescuing her brother and his lover from gun-wielding lunatics was an everyday thing for her.
Given the family business, Lenore couldn't be sure it wasn't.
"Who were they? The men with the guns, I mean."
"No idea," Penelope said, shrugging. "I saw them arrive, and called Maxwell. We've been trying to find out more all day, but there isn't very much news to be found, I'm afraid. I'm pretty sure it's the same people who were after the sword - otherwise that's a hell of a coincidence - but apart from that, we've not been able to learn anything."
"The question which worries me most is how they found us," Maxwell growled, looking into the distance with an angry glare. "I was careful, and I didn't leave a trail to follow. That's an important part of the family business, and I'm good at it."
Maybe whoever it is, is better? Lenore kept the question to herse
lf, Maxwell didn't look like he was in a mood to have his skills questioned. But she did remember something, the conversation they'd had just before Penelope had phoned them at the hotel.
"Ah, that might be my fault," she said, her voice shaking. "Back at the hotel, you said that the Sword bonds with whoever uses it to draw blood?"
Maxwell nodded.
"Well, I think I cut one of the attackers at the museum with it. The one who was shooting at you?"
"You did what?" Maxwell roared, face darkening, turning to look at her. His amber eyes flashed, and Lenore squeaked in shock, huddling back in her chair, away from his rage.
Quick as a flash, Penelope grabbed her brother's arm, holding him tight. Maxwell pushed himself back from the table, pulling away from her and striding to the fireplace, leaning against it with his back to them. When he spoke, his voice was a low, angry growl.
"That means they were following you, not me. You … you shouldn't have done that."
"I'm sorry," Lenore whispered, unable to get a louder sound out through her dry mouth. Her eyes were wide, fixed on Maxwell's shoulders which trembled with rage. "I didn't think…"
"No, you didn't! I told you to stay back, and you got yourself right in the middle of this!"
"He was going to shoot you," Lenore protested, heart pounding.
"I don't care! I told you not to do it, and now they have a sword they can use to follow you - follow us - anywhere on Earth!"
"You'd rather I let you get shot?!"
"If that's what it took to avoid this, then yes!" Maxwell rounded on her again, his face thunderous. "You don't understand the danger this has put us all in. How could you be so stupid?"
Visibly controlling his emotions, he turned away again, Lenore staring at him in shock. Tears welled in her eyes, his words cutting to the core of her being. A tense, brittle silence fell across the room, ending when he shook himself and stalked out, muttering something under his breath and not looking back.
Penelope stood and walked around the table and sat next to Lenore, offering her an arm. She looked helpless, which almost made Lenore smile - the tough, gun-toting girl who had seemed at ease in any situation seemed to have no idea what to say or do.
Which would have been funny if it wasn't for the sick feeling in Lenore's stomach. She shivered, biting back a sob, not wanting to look pathetic, and sure that she was failing.
"Look, Maxwell can be an ass," Penelope offered hesitantly after a pause. "But you know he's upset because he's worried about you, right? And he'll get over it."
Lenore shook her head. "He's right, I'm stupid. I'm stupid because I let him drag me into this, this place where people shoot at me and where I can't go home and he doesn't want to tell me what's going on. But if I don’t tell him something, he'll explode like that! I didn't even know it was important!"
She realized her voice was rising, but she couldn't stop it. It wasn't just fear, or shock - she was angry. Lenore was angry at lots of different things, all of which were boiling up and over now that she had someone other than Maxwell to talk to. Penelope put her arm around her and squeezed tight, and Lenore sobbed angrily.
"It's not fair, he can't just, just yank me out of my life and into this."
"Hey, no argument there. My brother is a good man, a great guy and as loyal as anyone you'll ever meet, but he's not perfect." Penelope sighed, brushing her hair aside from her face, and grimacing. "He should have told you about this, I know. That was what I was trying to tell him this morning, but he didn't want to worry you. So of course, this is how it works out. I could have told him that. Hell, I did tell him that.
"But he doesn't want you to be in any danger, so no stress, no fear. He thought that if he kept it away from you, everything would be fine. He'd protect you. Except now, he finds out that he can't keep you safe like he wants to, because it's you they’re after, not him. Whoever they are, anyway."
That put a spike of fear back through the white-hot anger in Lenore's chest. Someone was after her because she'd gotten mixed up in this, and she didn't even really understand what 'this' was! The conflicting emotions were making her shake, and she bent forwards, resting her head against the cool hard wood of the table.
"What do I do?" She moaned into the tabletop, body shuddering. "I can't take this. I don't want this."
"I know," Penelope said, awkwardly patting her on the back. "I know, but I don't know what we can do about it. Look, you need time to adjust, that's obvious. Even Maxwell's got to see that now, but whatever he says, I promise I'll look out for you. After all, even if he doesn't appreciate what you did right now, you did save my brother from getting shot,” Penelope smirked before she gave Lenore a little nudge on the shoulder.
"Besides, us girls have to stick together, right?"
"Right." Lenore turned her tear-streaked face up to look at Penelope, smiling just a little. It was nice to have someone on her side. "But what about Maxwell?"
Penelope sighed. "Well, he's an ass. Or at least, he's being an ass. But I've seen the way you look at him, and I know how he feels about you. This thing about us shifters having fated mates that he's been telling you about? It's not just a line; it's true. I'm kind of jealous that he found his! It doesn't mean that you'll always have an easy time of it, but I am absolutely certain that you can work out any arguments you have. So… I say, go work it out. I'm here for you if you need me, okay?"
"Has it really always worked out? I mean, every time someone in your family has found their one or whatever, they've lived happily ever after?"
Penelope grimaced, and looked away. A deep sadness washed over her face for a moment, only to be banished by a smile. If Lenore hadn't seen the sad look, the smile would have fooled her, but there was still a hint of tragedy in Penelope's amber eyes when she looked back.
"Not exactly, no. There have been a few tragedies over the centuries too. All I can tell for sure is that it's possible to work any issues out - but you still have to try. And circumstances can make that hard. And, well. Magic or no, it doesn't stop things ending in tragedy. If I had to guess, I'd say that's what's scaring Maxwell."
"He's scared?"
"Maybe not as much as you, but yes, he is. He's found the one person in the world he's meant to be with, and now he's afraid that something'll take you from him. If I know him, he's a lot more afraid for you than for himself. After all, if something happens to him, he doesn't have to live with the aftermath."
Lenore shivered in Penelope's embrace. "I hadn't thought of it like that. But he can't keep me safe by keeping me locked up here, and cutting me off from my normal life!"
"You're right, of course. Maxwell means well, but this isn't a good way for him to handle it." Penelope squeezed Lenore's shoulder, and then sat back. "Look, you have every right to be angry. And if you want to leave, well, I've got your back there. Sometimes you need space to think things through, I understand that. If Maxwell doesn't get it… Well, I'll sit on him while you take the time you need.”
Lenore had to smile at that.
"But I'd advise against leaving, for the record. It's your choice, but my brother isn't wrong - there are bad people out there, looking for you, and it's easier to keep you safe here than anywhere else. Let us look after you, at least. It's not your fault you got dragged into this."
Lenore smiled wanly at that. Her anger had drained, or at least sank back into the background of her mind, and the fear was a lot easier to face when it didn't feel like she was on her own with it. It was still there, gnawing at the edges of her mind, but she felt at least a little safer with Penelope's promise of protection.
"Okay, I guess I'll think about that. It's so much to take in! But if you two don't know who's after me, doesn't that just mean I'm a prisoner here forever?"
"Oh, no! No, we're not just going to hole up here for the rest of our lives, darling!" Penelope laughed at the idea, a flash of playful energy lighting up her face.
"Whoever it is that's after us is going to regret it before too lo
ng, and this whole thing will have blown over. We know a lot of people, you see, and are owed a lot of favors. It won't take us long to find out who our mysterious sword-thieves are, and then we can deal with them properly."
There was a hungry eagerness in her voice that made Lenore shiver, though it wasn't directed at her. Penelope sounded as though she was eager for the hunt, and Lenore didn't envy her prey - but then, those were the people that were hunting her, and she didn't have much sympathy for them, either. They'd picked this fight, and if it got them a couple of tigers to the face, that was their own fault.
"How are you going to find out? Who they are, I mean?"
"Hopefully, one of our friends already knows. The magical community isn't that big, and word gets around, so if someone's gunning for us, well, somebody will know about it. If it comes to it, though, the Master of the Silver House owes me a favor. I'd rather not call it in, but he's a skilled magician, and he'll be able to find them for me." She grinned. "It's nice to have the premier sorcerer in Britain owing you a favor, it makes it easy to cheat if you have to.
"But that's all for the future. For now, you need to decide what you want to do."
Lenore nodded, feeling a little lost. She had a thousand questions, but Penelope was right - there were things which needed to be sorted out immediately. Now that there was someone willing to explain things to her, she didn't feel the same burning need to have all the answers at once, not when there were more important things to deal with.
"I guess I need to talk to Maxwell," she said, a little glumly. The idea frightened her; seeing him angry with her had hurt, especially since it had been so unfair. Going to look for him now was just asking for another painful experience, but it had to be done. She nodded, firming up her resolve, then realized that there was another problem to face.
