by Unknown
All they did was watch and scent the air as I walked by. That was precisely what I had hoped would happen.
The bad part was that I didn't have time for a story. I just had to wing it. Both their heads turned as one when I passed the wide staircase leading up to the lobby, bringing myself into their section of the hallway.
Too late to turn back. I marched up to them, licking my lips and hoping I didn't wear my fear like a cologne.
Janssen inhaled deeply and grinned. "What took you so long?"
I tried to smile but anxiety kept it short. I zipped my coat up all the way. "Oh, you know. This and that."
He pulled the door open and held it for me. "Pay up, Alda," he said over my head.
I paused before walking through. "What?"
"Not you. Him. We had a bet." To Olberich, he said: "Told you she'd show."
"Unfair," Olberich said. "You couldn't have known she'd show up dressed like that."
The door shut behind me. A last glimpse showed a disgruntled Olberich slapping money into Janssen's open hand. Wow. Glad I made someone happy.
My back to the door, I surveyed the room, filled to comfortable capacity. Two guards flanked the doorway on this side as well. These were dressed in a sort of uniform, holding tall metal poles with vertical flags on them. Heraldic banners.
Uh, oh. I had just barged in on Dierk's court.
I unzipped my jacket half-way and pumped the lapels, feeling stifled. The guards, looking more like Olympians than bouncers, marked my sudden appearance but said nothing.
There were groups of well-dressed men and women that stood in quiet dignified circles. There were clumps of adults, all ages and manners of dress, who laughed and very clearly enjoyed each other's company. And there were wolves.
They were not dogs—dogs would have barked and their noise would have announced their presence. Sleek shapes, mounds of muscle and fur, clustered together, just like the people did. The creatures nosed each other, lounging on the floor, some displaying throats or teeth, behaving every bit as social as the people. Some wolves sliced through the crowd like shadows, pausing to touch, nose to nose, nose to hand, meeting, greeting.
And they were beautiful—not a single Teen Wolf or American in London in sight. Just beautiful creatures.
Not all of these people were entirely strange, nor were all of them strangers. I recognized several people, even if I didn't know their names. One of them was my last mail carrier. Were it not for the constant playing of magic tingling on my skin like a facial peel I might have laughed. Imagine, the mailman that bit back. So not appropriate.
And there were others—a girl who worked in the deli that I frequently visited for lunch, the older lady from the bank whose line always moved the fastest. A man who worked in my office building and often shared my elevator. These were people I knew. Faces to the nameless Were I feared and dreaded. They were people. It wasn't a pleasant realization. I wanted to fear monsters. Children grew with the inherent ability to fear the strange and loathsome.
The Were were people. All of them.
I knew I had to find Dierk before my luck ran out so I began to weave my way through the crowd. However, persistent trouble found me first, giving me a rough shove with her shoulder before she spun me around.
"How did you get in?" Cacilia's lips curled, revealing teeth I hadn't noticed during our last exchanges.
"I walked through the door when they opened it."
"I doubt it. I'll bet you slithered under it."
You will pay for this insult would come off so cliché. I bit on my tongue and tried to sidestep her. She blocked me, hands on her hips.
Movement in my periphery made me snatch a glance over my shoulder.
One of the door bouncers stood just behind me. He cleared his throat, his voice as deep as his chest was wide. "Be civil, Cacilia. The Leni may not have completed but she still belongs to him."
Cacilia stood her ground. "Remove her at once. She has interfered with der König's business one too many times."
The guard shook his head. "I suspect she is our König's business."
"She is human. Not his mate."
"You." His hand on my shoulder, he tugged me around to face him. "What is your business here?"
I looked at him, swallowed hard. "I only wish to see your king, that's all."
"Then you will see him. For where is the harm in the looking?" He released me and held out the crook of his elbow, indicating I should take his arm.
I slid my hand into the bend of his arm and nodded, indicating that he could escort me when he was ready. Suddenly, he looked more royal guard than bouncer. That was the difference. The responsibility of a gentleman. Now instead of meandering through the crowd a path opened for us.
Of course with a man that big, a path would have little choice but to open for him. It didn't keep the guests from leaning in, though, and sniffing at me. It was always subtle, of course, but I didn't think that it was coincidence that each and every person would suddenly inhale through their noses as I passed.
Good.
As we reached the front of the room, the crowd thinned and I could make out a chair, set atop a wide carpeted platform that raised it a foot off the ground. High backed and upholstered, baby blue fabric accented with gold, red, gilt. Sitting in that chair was Dierk, decked out in a black brocade vest over a deep burgundy shirt. He watched me make my way through the crowd and lifted his chin from where it rested on his fist, his eyes the color of pure gold.
I couldn't register anything else once I saw his eyes. His eyes held me, a fluid yet tenuous touch that sent my heart stretching out toward him, feeling miles away until he spoke my name and brought me back.
"Sophie, you surprise me. Truly I did not expect to see you here."
"I had to see you," I said.
The guard released my hand with a gentle pat and backed away.
Dierk remained motionless, except for his eyes. "Is something the matter?"
"There must be." I crossed my arms and locked my sight on him, half-fearing to look around at the Weres surrounding me. "You aren't returning my calls."
"And is he slave to your call?" Cacilia had followed in our wake and now competed for Dierk's attention. "He answers to no one."
"And no one answers for him." Dierk's gaze flicked toward Cacilia, pinning her into silence. "I received no calls from you."
"I called you six times," I said. "Six times. It didn't even go to voicemail. You rejected each of my calls. The least you can do is talk to me."
Dierk clasped his hands over his mid-section, his voice slightly louder, edgier. "I received no call."
I pulled out my cell phone, wanting ever so much to bean him with it. Room full of werewolves, I reminded myself. Won't like it if I give their king a concussion.
"This is ridiculous. Do I have to go over my call log and show you all the times I tried?" I started thumbing down the list of calls. "Here and here and eleven o'clock this morning and four o'clock yesterday afternoon."
Dierk made an exasperated noise, leaning forward to tug his phone out of his back pocket. "And I tell you. I did not receive a call from you. At those times only came calls from unfamiliar numbers. I do not answer unfamiliar numbers."
"They were my numbers, you jerk."
Heads turned when they heard the insult. Warily I tried to keep them all in my periphery, wondering if the king would have my head.
He, however, seemed to have forgotten there was anyone in the room with us.
"No, they are not! I have all your numbers saved. You called me from your cell? Let's see. This is who called, not you." Then he rattled off my cell phone number.
I rubbed my eyes, feeling familiar defeat, and glared at Cacilia. "Meddling bitch. Why not?"
She growled.
I gave her the hand. "You changed my numbers in his phone so my calls would come up unknown."
She laughed, spreading her hands wide and twisting to look at the people closest to us. "Do you hear this
, mein König? I can't believe this woman, Dierk. How she lies."
"Honestly, Cacilia? You did have my phone when she called." He tapped his mouth with his fingers. "Did you do this?"
She rolled her eyes and parked a hand on the angle of her hip. "Are you going to throw her out or not?"
"No. She has something I need." In a fluid movement, Dierk stood up and stepped off the riser, stalking toward me. He raised a hand, and I thought for a moment he might strike my cheek.
But he didn't. He grabbed the zipper of my coat and yanked it down, unzipping my jacket all the way and spreading it open. "I thought I had lost that shirt."
"That's it?" I smirked at him, looking up through my lashes. "You rip open a woman's coat and all you say is I thought I lost the shirt?"
He shrugged. "It's a good shirt."
"Well, glad to be of service. You could just have your shirt back and I'll go." I shook off my jacket and dropped it on the floor. I grasped the bottom of the shirt, lifting it as if I would take it off, giving him and the room a glimpse of my belly.
Which, might I add, is not at all a bad looking belly. I'm not saying I'm ready for a piercing but a half-shirt, sure.
His eyes wide, he pushed my shirt down in a hurry.
"No, no, no," he said, his words stumbling out in a rush. "That won't be necessary."
I grinned over his shoulder, only half-meaning for Cacilia to see me. "I'd rather trade shirts in private anyway."
"Well, that will have to wait," he said. "You are invited to stay."
"You are not Wolfenkinder," said someone near us. The nice bank lady. "You could have been killed, dear."
"I have learned Sophie is a very determined woman." Dierk stepped back from me. "She knew exactly what she was doing."
"Walking into a den of wolves, where she would not be able to defend herself?" Her brows lowered, dubious and scolding.
"Walking into a den of wolves wearing the king's shirt and wrapped in his scent." Dierk glanced down to look for my hand and took it, entwining our fingers. "I'd say, that was a very smart thing to do."
We left the conference room through a single door behind Dierk's dais. This new room was smaller, windowless, and had a long craft table laden with food on one side, a healthy grouping of gear boxes on the other. In between paced Stohl, engaged in an intense telephone conversation.
Maybe it was the German, the unfamiliar words and inflections that sounded terse. Maybe it was Stohl—could be he talked that way to everyone. Either way, he paced and talked and stopped when we came into the room.
Dierk waved at him to continue. Stohl did so, albeit in a softer tone.
Covered trays and plastic wrapped desserts lined the table, and an impressive coffee service lay at the end. Looked like an industrial strength barista contraption. I knew Barb would go nutty for one and briefly considered texting her a photo. Dierk passed the coffee station and reached instead for a simply glass tea pot next to it. The pot was full of a honey brown brew. He poured two mugs.
"Sugar?" he asked.
I nodded. He reached for a rectangular decanter and drizzled a stream of amber syrup into each of the glasses, giving them a stir before handing one to me.
I sipped cautiously. This was no Lipton. It was—not indescribable, because if I had the time I could describe every nuance of the flavor, from the deep earthy base to the delicate fruit essence that lingered on the tongue after I swallowed. I wanted to say indescribable because it was so complex in its simplicity—a perfect snapshot of a summer's walk under a canopy of flowering trees—it didn't defy description. It simply didn't deserve to be described with words.
All that from a single sip of tea.
Dierk grinned while he watched me take that sip. "This is one of my favorite reasons to visit the US. I can only find this particular flush of Darjeeling in a shop in New Jersey."
"So, you weren't really avoiding my calls?"
"Of course not. In fact, I was disappointed you didn't call. I admit, I was too proud to call you myself. I paid a heavy price for that pride." He cast his gaze downward, regret in the lines of his face. "However determined you are, Cacilia is three steps ahead. She has much more to lose, and she has desperation driving her. It is hard to compete against a woman like that."
I couldn't help but scowl. "I didn't think I had to compete against anybody. I figured destiny, and all that, kind of gave me a leg up in the game."
"You forget." He pointed to the black boxes in the corner, heaviness and regret replaced by childish youth, insolent and fresh. "I'm a rock star."
I whacked him in the arm. "I can't believe you just said that."
He ducked his head and grinned. Raising his mug to his lips, he blew across the surface of hot tea, leaning against the table. "Destiny, huh? Is Sophie coming around then?"
I paused to sip the tea again, relishing that bright taste of sunlight in trees once more. "I'm in it until the moon. Then…we talk."
He growled deep in his chest. Normal guys didn't do stuff like that. His eyes dripped down into the King's gold again and he pulled me against him with his free hand. "Maybe…there won't be much talking."
"You're right," I said. Leaning toward the table I set down my mug before returning to his rugged embrace. "You'll be too busy chasing rabbits."
Stohl ended his phone call abruptly—or, at least it sounded abrupt to me—and marched toward the door, briefly saying something to Dierk before leaving. Not my business. Happier this way.
"Come." Dierk released me and tugged me by my hand toward the door. "I still have some business to take care of in there. Come sit with me."
"Won't that be…offensive to them?"
"Another thing you forget. I'm king. No one else has the right to take offense if I do not."
Returning to the conference room, Dierk escorted me behind the dais to a second smaller chair that had been placed beside his. Seating me first, he then took his own. Stohl appeared on the other side of his chair and announced a man, who was escorted forward.
It was very weird to be sitting there, and I really didn't like being the subject of such scrutiny. Although the people closest to the throne paid strict attention to Dierk and his subjects, the people to the sides and rear of the room carried on their conversations. Plenty of heads craned to look in my direction. No friendly eye contact, but nothing outright hostile, at least. Even the wolves avoided me. I folded my hands on my lap and kept my eyes down.
Anywhere but here. I'd been saying that so often lately, I might have to get it inked.
As the man finished up and went back to the crowd, a voice sounded at my side. A woman in hostess uniform held out a small tray. On it was my tea cup, rose lipstick and all. I took it with a grateful nod, glad to have something in my hands again. Dierk glanced down and nodded, a slight drop of his chin. Then Stohl announced another person and the whole bow-and-greet thing started all over again.
Sitting down and doing nothing was tiring work. After nearly an hour of sitting still and fighting the impulse to pull out my phone and play a game, Dierk raised his hand and announced a break. He stood and the crowd bowed their heads. Stepping off the dais, he raised a hand and gestured to me with a spread of his fingers to precede him.
In the rear room, he refreshed our tea cups before consulting a clipboard with Stohl. Four more speakers scheduled, from the sounds of it. Then adjournment.
"Supper in your rooms tonight, mein König?"
"That won't be necessary. I'll be going out." Dierk tilted his head in my direction. "Think about where we should dine, my dear. You've accommodated me greatly today."
They spoke a brief while in German so I helped myself to a brownie. The last two speakers who'd approached Dierk had taken up much of the past hour so I figured on two more hours, at least. One little brownie wouldn't put me off dinner, not even one with gooey icing and a generous sprinkle of walnuts.
I saved the last bite for Dierk and, once Stohl walked out, I held it up. "Hungry?"
&nb
sp; He glanced from my hand to my eyes.
"Yes." With slow steps, he paced over to me. "But we need to go in presently. I shouldn't get my hands dirty."
"That's what you've got me for. I don't mind wearing a little icing." I popped the fudgy bite into his open mouth, sparing him the mess. Oh, these men were such high maintenance. Rolling his eyes, he smirked as he chewed, wiggling his eyebrows.
He caught me by the wrist as I turned away for a napkin. "Not so fast."
Dierk raised my hand, inspecting my chocolate-covered fingers. "You weren't going to waste this, were you?"
Very deliberately, he leaned over my hand and slid my finger into his mouth, licking the chocolate off. I felt the slip of his tongue on my skin, the fullness of his lips as they pursed around my fingertip.
"Mmm. Best I've ever tasted. I'd like more." With a golden gleam through thick sable lashes, he eyed me, not the plate of brownies. "But it's time we go back."
He spread his hand to urge me out and I hurried out, fluffing my hair, keeping my head down.
It was in vain, though. I could tell by his throaty chuckle that he'd noticed my flushed cheeks. Damn that man for making me blush.
Just as he promised, he spoke with four people before standing and ushering me out again. Through the closed door, I could hear Stohl's voice as he announced the court's adjournment, and the subsequent chatter as the attendees filed out. Dierk prepared two travel cups of tea while Olberich gave him a recap of the day's business. He kept a straight face when he recounted my arrival, leaving out the drama of Cacilia's objections, but ruined it when he glanced over at me and winked. "Even if it did cost me a hundred."
Dierk laughed. "That will teach you to bet against her."
Once they were finished, Dierk took our jackets from a rack in the corner. "Shall we? I hope you have something decided for us."
"Sure do." I hoped he was in the mood for street food. "Shall I run it by your posse first?"
"Your evening, your choice. I am sure you have excellent taste in cuisine." He bowed like a gentleman before helping me into my jacket. "Do we need to change for dinner?"
