Wolf's Bane: Book Three of the Demimonde

by Unknown

  The first session went by smoothly, despite the conflicts brought before Dierk; interpack relations were tense and full of power plays as the local packs struggled to acclimate to Dierk's new vision for his wolves. He was intent on opening the eyes of his people, getting them to obey the men and the wisdom they had within their beast. Dierk wanted his people to embrace both natures, man and wolf. It occurred to me that most of these Were had let their human sides go slack with disuse.

  He would bring them back. He praised those who tried and encouraged those who faltered. He had harsh words for those who disdained his vision and, while I instinctively knew he had the power to break them if they fought, he guided them and pointed them in the direction he wanted.

  Dierk was truly a ruler. My respect for him grew in those hours, and little by little I re-defined him…yet again.

  By the time he paused the session for a break, my brain was full and my stomach was empty. I was more than ready to head back into the craft room.

  Only a few joined us. Thankfully, Cacilia wasn't one of them. Dierk pointed to the table and whispered in my ear. "Chocolate cake looks good, doesn't it?"

  Oh, I think I could learn to like that man. He really got me.

  I served a great big slice onto a plate and took it over to a loveseat, setting the plate on the armrest before heading back for a fresh cup of tea. I caught Dierk watching, half-smile on his lips, and gestured to an empty cup. He bowed and shook his head slightly, mouthing "thank you" to me before returning his attention to a woman speaking to him. Tea sweetened, I went back to my comfy chair, pulled out my phone, and enjoyed my cake while reading on my ebook reader.

  I still had Marek's journal inside my purse, but I didn't feel it was the right place to lose myself in him.

  The icing was delicious but super thick. I could have used a knife to cut it into slices. It was sweet without being overkill and I was truly enjoying it until I had difficulty swallowing the third bite.

  Yikes. Death by chocolate would be so awkward here.

  I took a sip of tea, but it didn't help it go down. Dropping my phone onto the cushion, I stood up, hoping it would stretch my esophagus. Not enough. I raised my hands over my head, looking ridiculous but it sure beat choking on icing.

  Still nothing.

  Toby perked up, alerted by my discomfort and came over to me. "Are you all right?"

  I shook my head. I couldn't swallow. It was like a mound of putty in the back of my throat, immobilizing the muscle. Breath squeezed past it a teaspoonful at a time.

  Anaphylaxis. I started to panic, a wave of hot washing out through my limbs. Everything trembled. I waved frantically at my throat, my breath a ragged gasp, a squeak. I leaned on my hands over the table, unable to sit.

  When the edges of my vision faded, I closed my eyes. Fight for control. Fight it. Forget that you're going to die. Focus and fight.

  I didn't know I was collapsing until I felt the table under my forehead. I didn't know Dierk was next to me until I heard him scream for help. And then, I didn't know anything more.

  I opened my eyes and sat up, not knowing why I was lying on top of a long black gear box. When I jerked awake, I almost fell right the hell off it. Honestly, who puts a sleeping person on top of something that narrow?

  "Easy!" Toby grabbed my waist and anchored me. "Lay down. Are you okay?"

  "I'm fine. Get me down. Why am I up here? Who's that? Toby." I looked at him hard, wishing I could feel more than his hands. My shields were skin-tight against me and I couldn't get them to relax. "What is going on?"

  "You almost suffocated." His brows were drawn together, and his forehead glistened.

  I pushed off his arms and sat up. "What the hell are you talking about?"

  "Don't you remember?"

  "Toby. I think I'd remember almost dying."

  "You started to breathe funny, then you pointed at your throat—you don't remember anything?"

  I felt my neck and swallowed. Nothing wrong as far as I could tell. Nothing. "Where's Dierk?"

  "In another room. They're questioning someone. You said a name before you fell down. Can you think back and remember why you said it?"

  "Toby. I don't remember. But I am getting a little pissy. Please get me down now?"

  He took my waist again and lifted me down, easy as picking up a plate. Totally a big-up there, considering the depression binging I'd done. At least he didn't groan and stagger under my weight.

  Toby pulled a radio out of his back pocket and pressed the chirpy button. "Stohl."

  The radio chirped back. "Ja, go."

  "She's up."

  The radio fuzzed out with a spark of static. "We'll be in."

  "Roger that. Over." Toby stuck the radio back into his pocket and walked over to the door, crossing his arms and waiting for the others to arrive.

  "Wow," I said. "You really are the security guy, aren't you?"

  "I never expected to be royal guard, but yeah. I like the job. He trusts me in here alone with you. That says a lot. I should have a good job once he leaves, if I don't leave with him."

  "You'd leave with him?"

  "Depends on you."

  "I can't tell you what to do, Toby. I wouldn't make you give up a royal guard position."

  "You don't understand. I'd only take the job if you were going back with him. But if you stay, I'd stay here. Nothing's been decided yet."

  It took my breath, hearing him say he'd give up his life here just like that, just to follow me to Europe. The value of that sacrifice—was I worth such a price? "But…what about Dally?"

  Toby's mouth became a thin line, his lips going pale under the pressure. He inhaled hard through his nose. "Dally will keep on being Dally without me. She won't be going with me. It's just--not going to happen."

  "Does she know yet?" I didn't want to tell him that she had already suspected something was going on with him.

  He shook his head.

  "I can't do that to her," he said softly. "I don't want her to suffer with the uncertainty. It still might not happen, you know?"

  But, looking at the heavy line of his brows, the cloudiness of his expression, I knew he didn't believe it. Neither of us did.

  A month ago, Toby had been content to go along with whatever Dahlia set out for him—meeting with packs, learning his estranged "heritage" a little bit at a time. Now he stood in front of me, royal guard for the king of all Werekind—it didn't get any further from his old reality than this. And he took it all in stride, unfazed by the earth-shaking changes our worlds have recently undergone. He acted like he'd been born to this life.

  That wasn't the Toby I thought I knew.

  "You've really changed," I said.

  "Life is all about change." He ran his hand through his hair before letting his arms rest at his sides. "You change with it, or you stop living."

  The door opened and Dierk came in, closing the distance between us in a streak. Searching my face, he held my face in his hands, his thumbs tracing tiny circles on my cheeks. "You are all right?"

  "Everyone keeps asking," I said. "Yes. I'm fine. What happened?"

  Dierk's brows were upturned. "It looked like anaphylaxis."

  "I don't have allergies." Especially not to chocolate. I'd have been dead a lifetime ago. By my own hand, if necessary.

  "We know," he said. "Tancred drew blood and analyzed it."

  That's when I noticed the bandage on the crook of my elbow. I traced it with a finger, noting zero discomfort from the needle puncture. Not bad, Tancred. Not bad at all. "Analyzed it? What, does he have a travelling lab in the back of the tour bus?"

  "He has resources," he said. "At any rate, we know it was not anaphylaxis. There were no cellular markers left behind."

  "So…compulsion?"

  He half-nodded, half-shrugged, looking all around at a complete loss. "Or magic, at least. We are questioning some people but nothing has turned out yet."

  "Great. Who's after me now? Last time, it was vampires. Before t
hat, it was a werewolf. Did I join a Hitman of the Month club?"

  Toby cleared his throat. "Last couple of times, it was vampires. You forgot Eirene."

  "Oh." I wagged a finger in exaggerated realization. "You're right. How could I forget her? Wow. Oxygen deprivation."

  "You are not the least bit amusing," Dierk said.

  "Sorry, Dierk, I have an inappropriate sense of humor." I began to giggle. I couldn't stop.

  He hugged me, wrapping me in his solid arms, his scent and his heartbeat cancelling out everything else.

  "Hmm." A young woman with long, coal-black spiky hair had been escorted into the room. Bedecked as she was in a lace top and denim capris, I assumed she hadn't been present for court. She flicked a penlight in front of my eyes, peering into them. "Hmm."

  "Hmm, what?" I still had no idea who she was. Apart from human with very interesting hair, I was clueless.

  "I need you to hold your breath and not blink."

  What did I have to lose? "Okay."

  She looked in, gazing intently, as I did so. My eyes started to sting and I grimaced to keep my eyes wide open.

  "Quick blink," she said.

  Ah. Blinking. That felt so good.

  Twenty seconds later she patted my leg.

  "Okay, breathe. I saw what I needed to see." She got up and walked over to the table where her purse lay and tucked the penlight inside.

  "What did you see, Alise?" Dierk hadn't moved from where he stood over my shoulder, arms crossed, chest inflated with an imperious air.

  "It wasn't a compulsion," she said. "It was magic that choked you. Someone used a spell."

  I stifled a groan. "You can tell that by looking in my eyes?"

  "Magic leaves a residue in the blood." She handed a tube back to Tancred, who tucked it into a slot in a small metal case. "The vessels are visible on the retina, so you can see it if you know how to look."

  "Can you identify the strain?" Tancred sat down, crossed his legs, and pulled his glasses off. I couldn't imagine a wolf in glasses. The closest I could picture was Beast from the X-Men but Tancred wasn't blue.

  I'd read comics in high school. Sue me.

  "I can narrow it down," she said. "It wasn't human, exactly."

  Tancred folded his fingers over his chest. "Vague."

  "Not green enough to be fey magic. Too small to be human witchcraft. Baffling, actually."

  Dierk dismissed her with a scoff, clearly displeased with her analysis. "Tancred. Is there someone else you can call?"

  "You don't need anyone else." She put her hands on her hips and turned on him with a shake of her dark head. "I'm the best there is."

  "This is the best? 'Baffling?'"

  "Not my fault." Alise pointed at me. "What is she?"

  Someone else was treating me like a specimen. Joy, joy. "Who," I said. "I'm a who, not a what."

  She hurried back over, very much like a little bird, and peered at me. "You're a what, all right. They said you were human."

  "Last I checked, I was."

  "She's bitten," Toby said.

  "But not yet changed?" Alise eyed me.

  I shook my head.

  "Then it doesn't matter. You're human until the moon. But you're not human."

  "Yes, she is." Dierk and Stohl spoke in unison.

  "If you were human, I'd be able to tell who set this spell." She shook her head. "You're not human, or else there is something else in your blood."

  Wisely, no one clarified the problem. She looked hard at me, then up at Dierk. "No? Not going to tell me? Fine. But I can't decipher these strains until I know what kind of medium her blood is."

  "She's human." Dierk voice was pleasant and flat, his half-smile telling nothing.

  "You can't keep her a secret. If she's other—"

  "Other? What other?" I asked, although I had a feeling I didn't want to know. She obviously knew about the Were and the DV and yet, the word other.

  "You aren't like anyone else here, and you aren't of the Fey. You aren't plain old human, either."

  "Thanks for noticing." Smart ass was unavoidable. "I like to think I'm special."

  She didn't laugh. "I want to know. Show me."

  "Huh?" Suddenly I was holding my breath again. I tried to exhale, but the impulse passed. She leaned closer and I felt a weird tugging in my face.

  "Show me what I need." She slid a vial out of her back pocket and unscrewed the cap.

  "Stop, witch," Stohl said.

  She smiled, open-mouthed, and gently shook her head. "I will know."

  "No," Dierk said. "You will only be disappointed. And you will die if you don't stop now."

  My eyes felt tight and suddenly the light changed. The room took on a pink tinge. I blinked twice and everything looked normal again.

  Alise's mouth pulled into an angry curl. "You can't keep this a secret."

  "It's not my secret to share." Dierk placed both hands on my shoulders, drawing me against him. "She is not a threat. But, should you draw another drop of her blood, you will die. I promise."

  I heard a quiet snik from Stohl's direction.

  Alise blinked twice. She'd heard it, too. The tugging stopped and I remembered how to breathe.

  "Now, leave with Stohl," Dierk said. "He will take you someplace to rest until I am ready for you."

  Stohl smiled and gripped her arm, leading her away. She wouldn't take her gaze from me.

  Dierk pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and patted my tears with it before folding it and putting it away again, but he wasn't fast enough. I saw the blood.

  "Who was she?" I hesitantly touched the corner of my eye, scrutinizing it for a hint of blood. Nothing. It didn't even hurt.

  "A witch."

  "Seriously?" A thousand thoughts stumbled through my mind, tripping up every time they brought up Jasmine. Great.

  He nodded, opening a bottle of water and pouring it into the tea pot. "Apparently, she's a pretty high ranking one, too. There will be a problem keeping her quiet."

  "Great. That's perfect. So now I'll have witches after me."

  "Not after you. Exactly," he amended. "But they'll want to find out all they can about you. It's their nature."

  "Ugh." I buried my face in my hands. "Here we go again with the nature."

  "They are witches. Researchers. Scholars. Scientists of the metaphysical."

  I looked up when he sat next to me. "Friend or foe?"

  "Neutral, I suppose." Dierk stretched his arm across the back of my cushion. "Were and Witchkinder coexist with no prejudices. In fact, we share common interests."

  "What about witch…kinder and DV?"

  He shrugged. "I confess I do not know."

  "I suppose we better find out." I sat back, into the arch of his arm. "Can I call Rode down? Will he get a hard time if he shows up?"

  "Here? Of course not. Common ground."

  I looked up at him. "I mean from you."

  He patted my leg. "If he can help you, I will not keep him away."

  I was halfway through a mug of Darjeeling when I picked up Rodrian's power signature. He wasn't happy, and he wasn't alone.

  "They come in with me." His voice carried through the closed door. Dierk lifted his chin, wearing a piqued look and Stohl opened the door, motioning for them enter.

  Rodrian walked in wearing a Marek attitude, and six other DV followed. Stohl made no trouble and simply shut the door after they were inside. To my relief, Gian Greco was with them; I caught his gaze immediately and felt him scan me, his eyes blazing with his inner light. His expression relaxed somewhat, so I took it as a sign that I wasn't too effed up and let myself relax as well.

  Caen, on the other hand, seemed rather disappointed I was still alive. Hmm. Must be Sunday. Or April.

  "Adeluf." Rodrian tipped his head and sounded more civil than he had all week.

  I gaped. Respect? Oh crap. This was really bad.

  "Thurzo." Dierk got up and extended a hand, which Rodrian took without any major hesitation. "Th
ank you for coming so quickly."

  Rodrian looked over in my direction, a darting glance. His power had a coiled-up feeling, like he was trying very hard to contain himself. "What happened?"

  Dierk explained the attack and subsequent examination by the witch. He had a marvelously patient way of relaying details with logical precision. Usually I'm the type who has to butt in when someone doesn't get the story right; shoot, I can't re-tell a joke without improving it.

  With Dierk, I didn't have to, although Rodrian kept looking over at me as if he expected me to interrupt.

  "So," Rodrian said. "The problems are these: Sophie was a target of a magical attack, a witch investigator couldn't determine the strain of magic, and the witch community have been alerted to Sophie's uniqueness."

  Dierk answered with a curt nod. "That is my assessment."

  Rodrian looked very much like he'd developed a headache. He rubbed his temple and gave me a look that read like he was starting to think I was more trouble than I was worth. "She'll be put under guard, obviously."

  "It is done," Dierk said.

  "Not yours. Mine." Rodrian's confrontational attitude seemed to be surfacing again. I crossed my fingers and prayed they wouldn't resort to fisticuffs. Or, whatever fru-fru word royal people used to mean a butt-kicking contest.

  Dierk inhaled deeply, stealing a quick glance at me, but didn't object. "We will work out the details presently. Of more pressing concern is that of the Witchkinder relationship with DV."

  Rodrian shrugged. "DV would not prey upon them without invitation, since they are magic-sensitive. The amulets are the warning."

  "Can they be compelled?"

  "Persuaded, perhaps, but I do not think they are swayed by compulsion. Their mind-magics are highly disciplined from communicating with their deity."

  "Do you think the Sophia, being demideity to the DV, could be in danger from Witchkinder?" Dierk took his seat again and crossed his legs, his ankle on his knee.

  "They are women who worship women." Rodrian glanced over at Greco. "I don't see how Sophia can be a threat. If anything, the Sophia are a manifestation of the Goddess."

  Funny how they could have such a revealing conversation right in from of me. I was pretty sure I wasn't under a glass dome, but anyways. Demideity? I could have so much fun with that, if not for the pressing problem.