Wolf's Bane: Book Three of the Demimonde

by Unknown

  I took the card he held out to me, glancing at the name. Kevin Somebody-or-another, Aerogenetek Laboratories. Marek's biotech labs, where he ran his clandestine hybrid research.

  I'd asked Rodrian for a contact a few weeks ago. I wanted to see the research for myself. I wanted to see what they were missing because I wanted to bring Marek back.

  Now what? I might soon be gone, too. Who would save him now?

  "It's okay," he whispered. "I know you want to do something. You want to fix Marek. You want to fix yourself. I get it. Sometimes, though, you just need to sit back and not do anything."

  "But, why?"

  "Because these might be the last weeks we have. This might be it. Don't waste it for us, Sophie. Don't waste it for me. I lost my brother. My little girl grew up overnight and I hardly see her these days. And now you. You want to leave me."

  I stared at the fire. No, I don't. I don't, not at all.

  "The damage is done. You can't do anything about it," he said. "So I want you to do nothing about it. Live. Live these last weeks with me. Just live with me and let's be happy and if everything works out, we'll laugh about it and I'll take you someplace nice for your birthday."

  May suddenly seemed half a lifetime away, instead of a matter of weeks. "And if it doesn't work out?"

  "You spend your birthday in Germany with that son of a bitch." His voice tempered into solid steel, dark and pointed. "And I will spend the rest of my days taking my revenge."

  He tilted his head, as if distracted.

  "Speaking of the Devil," he said. His lips curled into a smile that was far from cheerful.

  The doorbell rang.

  I let Rodrian sit and went to get the door. Dierk wore a suit, iron grey, his hair combed back into a tight tail bob. The fedora and Tommy gun were missing.

  The henchmen weren't: Stohl, Janssen, and Olberich stood behind him. Their suits were not as slimly tailored. I suspected they were packing. Good little bodyguards.

  However, I didn't think Rodrian would be pleased.

  Without a word, I showed them in to the foyer. The den was shut, as were the office, the guest wing—every door was closed and I never heard it happen. Rodrian stood, one hand gripping his other wrist, in front of the den. He, too, was spruced up. Jacket, tie, cufflinks. All in a matter of a minute.

  I shuddered, at a loss for what to think. Rodrian didn't do much hocus pocus around me and this was off the abracadabra scale.

  Rodrian lifted his chin. "Dierk Adeluf, son of Schatten. I welcome you into our home."

  He managed to sound congenial, yet his greeting didn't have a congenial effect on Dierk, who stiffened and curtly bowed from the shoulders.

  "Rodrian Thurzo. My thanks for this…hospitality."

  "I have no men here, Adeluf." Rodrian tilted his head toward Olberich. "Do I need my men?"

  Dierk still hadn't looked at me. "I see no reason we cannot speak with civility."

  He lifted his hand and his boys went back outside.

  When the door had clicked shut, Dierk smiled. It was just as phony as his half-smile. And he still didn't look at me. "Now. I assume we will speak in private?"

  Rodrian nodded and did his restaurant bow, one hand sweeping to indicate the formal parlor. I rarely went into the parlor or the adjoining dining room. They were stiff and unaccommodating and straight out of a showroom. "We will be comfortable in here. This way."

  Dierk stepped off with a click of heel on the tile and passed me without a glance. I trailed behind them but, at the threshold, Rodrian paused and turned, blocking me.

  "I will call you when you may rejoin us," he said. Spreading his hands, his gaze on mine, he grasped each of the pocket doors and tugged, thumping them shut between us.

  I retreated to the office upstairs, dutifully dragging my black cloud along. A hotter emotion brewed deep down, taking the energy from my constant anxiety and giving it a fierce head. I stomped from one side of the room to the other, trying to blow off that steam.

  It had been a long time since I had paced. It'd been even longer since I did it cracking my knuckles and imagining new ways to clobber Rodrian.

  What made the pacing torturous was the fact that this mood would have called for music, loud music. Metal music. Most notably, Turn of the Wheel's second studio release, third track. And I refused to give that song or its creator the pleasure of being played.

  The bastard.

  And that other bastard.

  At length, I gave up. I couldn't sustain a good stomping without the soundtrack accompaniment so I just went out on the balcony. It was still light out, and a balmy breeze swept up from the field, fragrant and full. Deep breaths of the sweet air calmed me. Bird song and bug droning drifted up from the yard.

  When a familiar cry sounded overhead, I smiled, despite a very different emotion hovering right behind.

  Watching the falcon make its swooping passes overhead—so hard to describe in a word how I felt. I'd always admired the grace of a large bird in flight, always saw the art and the magic of every drop of wing, every tilt of steering. In another life, I would have been blessed to see this bird every time I walked outside, this magnificent creature that always appeared out of nowhere and took flight just for me.

  In another life, it would be just a bird.

  The French door clicked behind me, startling me. Dierk stepped out, looking at me for the first time. He'd taken off his jacket and loosened his collar and sleeves. Well, I was still pretty miffed at the whole thing from earlier so I ignored him. Taste of Your Own Medicine Sophie, that's me.

  "Thurzo asked me to convey his regrets." Dierk sounded like he had no clue he'd landed himself in the dog house. "An urgent matter required his attention."

  Figured. Rodrian had to know he'd be in for a stiff ranting so he chickened out and scrammed. "Did he say what the matter was?"

  "No, but she was tall and very…persuasive."

  Aurelia. Of course. Bitch came for her puppy. Oh, wait, that's more of a Were insult. Let me think about it a while.

  "He told me you would be up here and to, ah, tread softly." Dierk eyed me and tapped his palms together. "He was generous in his advice."

  "Don't worry, pal." I refused to look at him. "I'm not one to commit treason."

  "Nice choice of words. You sound like you have come to an acceptance of sort."

  "Didn't say you were my king. However, your boys might not appreciate me giving you a tight slap."

  Dierk walked to the edge of the balcony, a few feet away from me, and rested his forearms on the rail. Bird song came to us in layers: the sharp whistles of robins down in the yard, who always seemed to be complaining about something; the rapid-fire rapping of a woodpecker in the trees to the left of the house; the back-and-forth chirps of a pair of cardinals who claimed the patio area as their own and frequently gave the grill hell for being too shiny.

  Sometimes, it was a downright racket. A pretty one, but a racket all the same.

  The yard was a cacophony at the moment. He surveyed the yard, the field and trees beyond, eyes crinkling as he did. "So, you are taking advantage of this fine weather. Bird watching, hmm?"

  Wouldn't it just blow his mind if he knew, I thought. "How'd you guess?"

  "I apologize for earlier." He bowed his head slightly. "I could not acknowledge you at that particular moment. It was protocol."

  "Stuff your apology. It was rude."

  He leaned on one arm and faced me. "You will learn to accommodate the times when business is business. It is simply a necessary thing."

  "Hopefully, I won't. All this king garbage is annoying."

  He chose not to answer. Very diplomatic of him, since it wouldn't have gotten either of us any closer to peace.

  The falcon called out, close by. Dierk looked up and searched the skies. A familiar shape crossed overhead, soaring over the open fields.

  "Can it be?" He pointed. "That falcon—too large to be peregrine. Wings too broad, tail too long. And the spotting—"
/>   He looked at me, mouth open in a delighted ah. "That's a gyrfalcon. See the lazy wing beats? He owns the sky. King of falcons. Falcon of kings."

  He tipped his head, his brows drawn. "But—gyrfalcon aren't abundant here, are they?"

  "I don't know much about birds." To myself, I added: not even the ones who used to be people.

  He turned his gaze back to the bird, which paced the sky over the field across from my balcony. Its hyaik-hyaik-hyaik calls were sharp and full of warning.

  Dierk just laughed. "He's mad, that one. He is threatened. Something distresses him and he wants to scare it off."

  Yeah, I silently agreed. Like maybe the werewolf standing next to me.

  "Is there a falconry nearby?" he asked.

  Another noncommittal shrug. "A place closer to Philly has an observatory."

  "Gyrfalcons are noble, noble birds. I wouldn't mind hunting with one again. My father hunted, his father before him. Sport of kings. Looking at that bird makes me long for the past. I wonder—"

  My muscles locked at the curiosity in his voice. I followed Marek uneasily in his progress, arcs that brought him closer with each pass.

  Dierk pointed toward Marek's memorial. "I see the great perch down in the yard. I wonder if that falcon could be persuaded to land."

  "Oh," I said. "I don't think that's a good idea."

  "Why not? It is not unheard of to train a wild raptor. Stohl would know. Our fathers hunted together."

  "No!" I tucked my hair behind my ears. "I mean, not Stohl. I don't want him back here."

  Dierk lifted his chin at me. "And?"

  "And, what? Sorry if I don't get the whole bromance thing."

  "You are anxious. Your scent changed. What else? More than afraid of Stohl. You are—you're concerned about the bird. You want it left alone."

  I bit the inside of my cheeks. I watched Marek and tried to smell like it wasn't true.

  "Sophie." He gentled his voice. "Tell me. I would not hurt you. I would not harm whomever or whatever you loved. There is a story about this majestic gyrfalcon that flies the skies to which he does not belong."

  I laced my fingers together, wondering how to persuade him. "Will you protect it as you swore you'd protect me?"

  "With my life." He placed his hand over his heart. "Kings owe fealty to each other."

  I nodded, believing that he believed what he said. "Do you know who Horus is?"

  "Egyptian god of the sun. Head of a falcon."

  "Do you know why he is significant to the DV?"

  "Of course." Dierk stepped closer, his gaze following the falcon. "Our legends share the same origin."

  Well, that was a relief. "So, you know that if DV and Werekind blood mix—"

  He pointed at the falcon. "Him?"

  I nodded. "You understand."

  "Yes, yes. Wolfram. Wolf-raven. We have our own version of the legends. Can it be? How do you know this?"

  I shrugged. "I saw it happen."

  "You saw it." His jaw dropped. Dierk gaped at me.

  If I wasn't feeling so desolate inside I would have enjoyed his loss of composure. But I didn't. This was too important. "Yes."

  "No one has ever seen it happen."

  "I kid you not."

  To my amazement, he laughed, an open-mouthed, wide-eyed laugh of boyish disbelief. "Amazing! Tancred will be speechless!"

  He chattered on, his accent clipping the syllables into mouthfuls of excited unintelligibility. His voice droned and I zoned, finding it hard to enjoy his enthusiasm.

  His hand, a soft touch upon my shoulder, brought me back. "Are you all right?"

  "I'm fine." Actually, I felt irritable again and I felt like showing it.

  "You didn't hear what I said."

  I stepped over to one of the patio chairs and flopped down. "Okay, so I didn't. Your German was invading. What did you say?"

  "I asked, who was it?"

  I'd been expecting the question; I'd even expected direct delivery. Even so, I felt like I'd been slapped hard between the shoulders.

  "Did you know him?" he persisted.

  "Yes," I said.

  His expression darkened, as if he understood the reason for my reluctance to answer. "Do you—not want to tell me? Was it someone you cared for?"

  I met his gaze and took several breaths before answering. "Yes. Very much."

  "Ah." He shifted uncomfortably, joyous curiosity gone. "Explains much."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Your fascination with birds. It is just one bird, I see, that holds your attention. The Wolfram, I think, knows you, too."

  I closed my eyes for a long moment, feeling an odd dry pain behind the lids.

  "Explains much about you and I, as well," he said.

  "This has nothing to do with you."

  Dierk's posture changed. Gone was the easiness of our familiarity. It had been replaced with dissatisfaction and rigid formality. For the first time since meeting, he held himself away from me, like a stranger. "It has everything to do with why you do not accept me."

  "I don't need a bird to tell me I don't want to be Were."

  "True. You have your own valid reason why my people are such a repulsive mass. But always I have felt the presence of another." He crossed his arms and scanned the sky, trying to conceal his clenched fists. "The Leni would never have selected a woman with a mate."

  "I have no mate." I shook my head, irritated that I could use the word so easily.

  "I see, and I understand much more now." He strode over to me, leaned to grip my arms and pull me up from the chair. He held me up to his face, fingers tight with anger. "And if this is why you make misery of what should be a time of discovery and wonder—"

  A piercing scream sounded startlingly close and the bird dove, skimming our heads and making me duck. The falcon, its plumage a breath-taking pattern of black checks on white, pulled up in a spread of dark-tipped wings to land on the rail a few feet from us. It had never come this close before. Its hooked beak looked deadly, its talons like weapons.

  It screamed its rage, a guttural kak-kak-kak, finding purchase even on the curved stone rail. I jumped in surprise.

  But not Dierk. He nodded and calmly released me, stepping backwards away from me.

  The bird quieted, clicking closer, one dagger-like talon at a time.

  "See," he said, his voice taut as a fist. "The Wolfram protects his mate. It would have attacked me if I hadn't moved away from you. That I would live to see a myth made flesh—that it would be here, where I kneel in front of yet another myth. That I would be trapped between the two."

  He fell silent, half-smile disappearing for the first time, his face taking on weight and his shoulders sagging. Dierk looked more man than king. "I am already slave to one unstoppable force. I refuse to be subject to another."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "I am following my destiny." He jabbed at his chest with one thumb, anger in every line of his body. "The moon has chosen you. Not me. The Leni is not a choice. But I give the moon more credit than this."

  My temper had started to creep upwards. Did he dare reprimand me? "You make it sound like I'm doing something wrong."

  "You are and you aren't. You cannot help what you are. Nor can I. I was born to this life and this rule. Finding my own mate has never been an option. I put my trust in tradition and destiny."

  "Yours isn't the only destiny at stake here. It takes two mates to. . .well. You know."

  "Two mates. One destiny."

  "Wrong. Hello? I had my own destiny, thank you very much, your highness, before you came to town."

  "The Leni involves both of us."

  "Because of you. I didn't need a mating ritual to decide who and when I love. Your Leni doesn't get to cancel my life."

  "It's not cancelling anything."

  "Oh, no? So I get to grow a fur coat every month and what?" I sliced at the air between us with my palms. "Keep being Sophia? Keep my job at The Mag? Live here? That's lovely, isn't it,
a mate who lives on the other side of the ocean. Can't you see? It might be your destiny, but what if it isn't mine?"

  "Do you believe your destiny is to be with the Wolfram? Is that more satisfying? Quite hypocritical, in my opinion. You disparage my people because we are not human enough. The Wolfram isn't human at all! I shift. I am not trapped in an animal's form. How is that creature better?"

  "I never said it was."

  "Yet your heart is bonded."

  That was it. I decided to drop my veneer, my careful shield, and let him see me for what I was—a wretched well of agony. With a belly breath, I relaxed my barriers, not knowing what he'd sense but knowing this was the only way.

  "My heart is frozen." My throat hurt, wanting to wail but forced to form intelligible words. Each word was carved in that pain. "It's trapped in this form, it's unforgiving and unchanging. I'm stuck on the past. The present keeps taking me further and further away and I am powerless to stop it."

  I saw something register in his eyes, their quick shift as he sought a way to process it. He reached out and ran his palm against my arm, long strokes meant to comfort. "That is what destiny is."

  My hands fisted. "Stop talking about destiny!"

  "That Wolfram is the reason you won't love me."

  Didn't he get it yet? It wasn't only about my desperate wish to escape this Leni. I just wanted all the bad to undo itself. I wanted to rewind back to the day I faced the Conclave, the day the Sophia first manifested. That was the first time Marek had smiled at me. I wanted to go back and live in that smile forever and I wouldn't ask for anything else ever again.

  But I couldn't go back, could I? I wasn't holding onto a bird in the present. I wanted to hold on to a happiness in the past. It was selfish but I could never outrun it. How could I love someone else when I couldn't let go of Marek?

  I couldn't tell him he was right. It would shift some of this onto him when Dierk had absolutely no role in this tragedy. He deserved more than It's not you, it's me. I tried to soften my voice so the words wouldn't land as hard a blow. "That bird is the ghost of something that never stopped haunting me."

  Dierk shut down on me. His mouth a thin, pale line, his eyes wooden, he'd taken in more than I had intended. A flash of regret turned into a lingering burn as I watched him distance himself from me. What had I expected? I had let my heart and my words articulate my feelings as accurately as I could. I couldn't have possible expected him to say Sure, I get it, we're cool. Not when I had basically just told him that I had never wanted him in my life.