“How can I help you, Mother?”
“I heard Miranda and you had an argument.”
He shrugged and toyed with the pen in his hand.
“Not so much. I told her there was no Andee and me, and she called me a fool and kicked me out. Why?”
“Why? Can’t a mother worry about her son anymore?”
“You feel the need to worry about me?”
She sat in a side chair adjacent to his desk. She crossed her legs, and the loose-fitting trousers she wore billowed slightly before settling around her.
“I’ve felt the need to worry about you since before you were born.”
He bounced his eyebrows and remarked, “That’s a lot of worrying.”
Her gaze remained steady.
“A mother’s work, as they say.”
“And what have I done now to cause my mother to worry?”
She picked at a couple of spots of lint invisible to every eye but her own, then raised her eyes to his.
“In truth son, you’ve done nothing. But, I worry about that Trakes woman.”
“Trakes woman? You mean Special Agent Andee Trakes?”
“You know who I mean. She has plans for you, and I don’t believe she has your best interests at heart.”
“You mean, she would like to love me and care for me the rest of her life? Something like that?”
“Do not be imprudent with your mother. You know what I mean.”
Alwyn sat the pen carefully on his desk. He needed the time to form his thoughts.
“I don’t know why you are here. Miranda is my assistant, my sounding board, my Vox Secundo. Assigned to that role by you, if I remember correctly. She is my second voice and allowed to share her honest opinion with me. Frankly, Mother, what we discuss is none of your affair.”
Steel came into the periwinkle eyes, and her mouth formed a thin line.
“Anything that concerns my son is my affair.”
“Well, it seems you have interjected yourself into this, so what is on your mind?”
“I would prefer it if you would not see her anymore.”
Alwyn snorted a couple of bitter chuckles.
“Stop seeing her? I haven’t started seeing her. I met her in the course of a homicide investigation. We talked about the killings of several people. Due to the nature of the first killing, she interviewed me about werewolf customs and legends. I’m not sure how things were done in your time, mother, but I don’t think that qualifies as seeing a person.”
“Are you telling me you have no feelings for this woman?”
“I never said that.”
“Are you sure she has no feelings of attraction for you.”
He shrugged.
“I think most of her feelings about me are less than attractive, right now.”
“You have no plans to see her?”
Her interference began to chafe and his anger rose to the surface.
“Mother, I am fully aware of what is expected of me in every aspect of becoming the Unum. I am the prize bull, registered and purebred. I am the keeper of the seed of the breed, and not just any heifer is worthy of such seed. I must hold myself in check until the right one comes along and only after consultation with my mother and my handlers will I be allowed to pass on my linage.”
He stopped the sarcasm and looked hard at his mother. She met his anger with a steady but determined gaze. He sighed.
“I know who I am,” he said sternly. “I know who I am expected to mate. I realize Andee Trakes does not qualify and because of that, whatever my feelings toward her are, they are of no consequence. Trust me, Mother, Special Agent Trakes and I are not an issue.”
“But, if you were without other obligations...”
He interrupted her, “Stop. I will not play this game with you. You’re asking me what if the sun was pink, and I won’t answer. The sun is yellow. Always has been yellow, and as far as anyone has told me, always will be yellow. Possibilities under a different colored sun is not worthy of discussion.”
“Son, I only want...”
He rose and walked to the window overlooking the grounds. He turned back to face her. She still sat.
“No, Mother, you want what is best for the family, the clan and the pack. That is who you are. You mated with my father because of who he was, not because you loved him. You sought to produce an heir worthy of the Unums of old. Part priest, part warrior, part wise man. Dedicated to a life of sacrifice and abstinence. Well, you succeeded.”
“Don’t you speak of your father or me in that manner. You have not earned that right, that latitude.”
He stepped toward her, “No, Mother, you are wrong. I have earned it, and I earn it still every day of my life. Family doesn’t understand why Alwyn doesn’t enjoy a salad or a glass of wine or a damned candy bar. Other Unums do. It’s not because of the position. It’s because of you, your beliefs, your expectations, your demands. That is our little secret, dear mother, and I will keep our secret.”
He turned away, but as he did, he threw over his shoulder, “And that goes for Andee as well.”
He stood and looked out the window. He didn’t say it, as she was still his mother, but the tenseness of his shoulders told her the conversation was over. She sat, silent, for several minutes. He refused to turn around. Finally, she rose and said calmly, “I’ll let you get back to work.”
He said nothing and did not acknowledge her exit.
The following morning, without speaking to his mother, Alwyn took the helicopter to New York.
“Good morning, Señor Ferreira, thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I know with your responsibilities, you are a busy man.”
The diplomat was dressed in business attire with a small replica of his country’s flag pinned to his lapel.
“And you, Sir Alwyn Lloyd, you honor me with your presence. Can I offer you breakfast, coffee or something?”
Alwyn also wore a dark-colored suit that set off his salt and pepper hair and intensified his ice-blue eyes.
“Water, only, please,” Alwyn replied.
Ferreira smiled.
“So it is true then? You follow the lifestyle of old?”
He motioned to an assistant, who left the office and returned shortly with a bottle of water and a glass. The assistant handed them to the visitor. Ferreira then motioned for Alwyn to sit.
“It is true,” Alwyn smiled. “I was raised with the expectation and have not yet faltered.”
The Argentine’s smile grew.
“I hear the word ‘yet.’ Does that mean you are tempted?”
Alwyn allowed a smile.
“Only every day, but I share that confession only with you.”
Ferreira laughed, “Through it all, it is your honesty I admire most about you, Unum Lloyd.”
Alwyn lowered his head as a sign of respect and then raised it to look into the diplomat’s eyes.
“I have come to speak to you this morning about your son, Eduardo.”
“My son?”
“Yes.”
“How can I help?”
“Do you have any knowledge of whom he conducted business with or who he might have been associates with?”
“You’re referring to the killings that have taken place since my son’s death?”
“I am. There is a wolf stalking, and I doubt he is here by chance. I have seen his work and he is talented in the art of killing. He kills quickly if it suits him, and he is also fully capable of taking a life in a slow and painful manner. This wolf is not here on vacation.”
“Someone sent him?”
“I believe that is the case.”
“Who?” the diplomat asked.
“I am hoping you can help me find out.”
“How? What am I to do?”
Alwyn showed the palms of his hands in an effort to settle Ferreira’s nerves.
“You may not know, but the Unum is not allowed to know the particulars of the Xli’s crimes or misbehaviors that result in the finding
by the Pactum.”
“I did not know that, being that I have never been the Unum nor a Consenti.”
“It is felt if the Unum knows, it could result in a disagreement between the two. The findings of the Pactum are final, and there is no appeal. If the Unum disagreed with the findings and refused to fulfill the xli, it would only cause discord.”
Ferreira thought for a moment, then nodded and said, “For the Unum to know the particulars could lead to conflict and would in no way improve the situation. I see that.”
“Correct,” Alwyn agreed. “It’s potentially all negative, with nothing positive to be gained.”
He sipped his water, hesitated and continued, “Likewise, I cannot go to my mother, a Consenti, and ask for information. Even after the current matter is closed, there is the possibility conflict would arise for a future xli.”
Ferreira nodded and sipped his coffee.
“I am beginning to see your dilemma.”
“And that,” Alwyn concluded, “is why I have come to you. I’m hoping you will find it in your heart to help me.”
“What do you need me to do? I am yours to command.”
“Thank you, Señor Ferreira. Since I am limited in the questions I can ask about this matter, I’m asking that you talk to the contacts you have in and outside the government. Someone with whom your son conducted business has initiated a hunt. This hunter has killed, to date, four humans, and he has attacked my niece, who is also my Vox Secundo. In that matter, he has made a personal attack on me.”
“I had no idea of the attack on your niece. Is she...?”
“She is recovering. Thank you. You can see how my hand has been forced in this matter.”
“I can, and I reiterate my support.”
“Again, thank you.”
Alwyn stood to leave and offered his hand to the diplomat.
Ferreira also stood and took the hand. The diplomat doubled the clasp by using both hands. He bent at the waist and kissed the back of Lloyd’s hand. While still bending, the diplomat said, “You have my support and assistance, and what I’m about to ask has no bearing on that.”
“Okay,” Alwyn replied. “Ask your question.”
Ferreira straightened, hesitated and then said, “In fact, it is two questions, neither of which I’m sure you can or will answer.”
Alwyn nodded, “If I can.”
“The night my son died, regardless who killed him, did he suffer?”
Ferreira’s eyes searched Alwyn for any sign. The Unum kept a neutral expression.
“The night your son died, he felt no pain, other than what fear he felt knowing what was about to happen to him. I cannot speak to that.”
“Did he die well?”
“He forfeited his life with the honor the circumstances expected. You can be proud of his final conduct.”
Ferreira’s eyes misted over, and he nodded his head. “Thank you. Thank you for that.”
Alwyn nodded and turned to leave. The diplomat stopped him.
“Forgive an old man who can’t count.”
“How so, Señor?”
“I have another question, about this second matter.”
“It is?”
“If you can identify this renegade wolf, what are you plans? I ask because if I’m able to help, I can be held accountable.”
“When I identify this renegade wolf, I will make an accounting to the Pactum and ask for their guidance.”
“And then?” Ferreira asked.
“And then,” Alwyn answered, his voice calm, “I’m going to hunt the sonofabitch down and kill him.”
Ferreira again, bent at the waist.
“You have my total and complete support and all the assistance I can offer.”
“Thank you.”
The sun was declining and dipped into the branches of the trees that covered the hill tops. Early evening was on the way when Alwyn returned to the estate. He cleared the rotor wash and then turned and watched the flying machine rev to full power and break contact with the earth. He watched as the pilot, after achieving some twenty feet of altitude, allowed the craft to rotate until it faced the departed passenger. The pilot’s eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, but Alwyn was sure the eyes showed the joy of doing something allowed so few, lifting into the evening air under controlled flight. Alwyn extended a wave, and the man returned a quick salute, turned the craft so it faced into the breeze and continued the assent.
Alwyn watched until the craft was several hundred feet high. A small part of him wished to be on that bird. Lift off, leave the ground, leave the conflict, the confusion, the obligations, and the expectations behind. Maybe the woman was right. Maybe he should run to California. He closed his eyes, lifted his chin and stretched the muscles of his neck. They were tense with weight of his position.
“No,” he spoke to himself, “the woman was wrong. I’ll not run away, not to California nor anywhere else.”
He turned and walked toward the family house.
Many of the family was there, all concerned with Miranda’s recovery. It seemed all of them asked questions of Alwyn.
“I know no more than you,” he told many. In fact, since he had been gone most of the day, he may know less.
“She’s not recovering the way she should.”
He was told this several times and decided he needed to see his mother about it. He found her sitting on the screened-in back porch, protected from the insects. She sat and sipped her tea.
“Mother,” he said as he stepped through the door to join her.
“Son,” she replied.
Both still stung from their argument the preceding evening.
“I’ve been asked questions about Miranda. Is she not recovering in the manner expected?”
His mother studied him.
“And you are now concerned, after spending the day away from her side?”
He moved to her side and sat down in the wicker chair next to her. He placed his hand on her knee and studied her.
“Mother, I will say this but once. The business I conduct, if not for the college, is done in the interest of the family. I am what you raised me to be. I am the Unum, and while I am accountable to you as your son, I will not seek your advice or approval for every action and decision I make as the Unum. I am not able to stop all I must do to sit next to Miranda’s side, no matter how much I may wish to.”
He stopped and studied her. She refused his gaze and focused on the garden.
“If you are still angry about Special Agent Trakes, you are wasting your time. That matter is finished, as it never started in the first place. I have moved on. I have no choice but to move on. I admit I have feelings for her, strong feelings. In time, I will get over them, and in time, I hope to find one acceptable who I can offer those feelings to.”
“Now, we have matters before us that effect those we care about and are obligated to serve and protect. You swore an oath to support and protect me as your Unum. Now, if you can’t do that without the interference of the feelings as a mother, I will resign effective immediately. I would have you as my mother before you being only my Consenti.”
She shifted her gaze and looked at him. She studied him, her love and caring obvious in her eyes. She took a deep breath and exhaled.
“Son, my Unum, I have made a mistake that I am paying a high price for.”
He looked at her, his concern rising.
“I spent a lifetime preparing you for this moment,” she continued. “Training you for this time. I only forgot one part of the equation.”
“Mother?”
She smiled a thin smile.
“I forgot to prepare myself. It is most difficult to see you becoming what I have always hoped for, and at the same time, see you leaving.”
He smiled and took her hand.
“I’m not leaving you.”
“No,” she said, “in a very deliberate and determined manner you are. You just made that clear with your caution to me. You were right to set the rules.
I’m so proud of you. Please, give a mother a little time to watch her son soar as she has always hoped he would, but understand as he soars, her heart is breaking.”
Alwyn slid from his seat and dropped to his knees on the floor before his mother. He took her hands in his. He kissed them both and then looked into the eyes of the woman who gave him life.
“Mother,” he whispered, “you have no reason to fear or worry. You raised me well. I will not disappoint you, and I will do nothing that will bring dishonor on the name of Lloyd. I swear.”
Lady Lloyd took her hands from his. She feathered the hair on the sides of his head through her fingers. She held him still as she studied the son she bore years earlier. She looked into the ice-blue eyes that had come from his father.
“You were incorrect yesterday,” she said. “Your father and I were indeed an arranged marriage. I did not meet him until the day of our wedding, and while we started life as strangers, we grew to love each other with all our hearts. I have been a widow many years now, and some say, still an attractive woman. I have had offers from other men, but I’ve never found one that could stand next to your father and hold a measure. Am I wrong for wishing the same happiness we found for you?”
He shook his head, “No, Mother, you are not. I believe I will find that love. Or maybe it will find me.”
She bent forward and kissed his forehead. She smelled his scalp as she had when he was a boy. She returned to her proud and formal sitting position.
“Go see your niece. She has asked for you several times today.”
The muted evening light was further dimmed by the shades covering the windows. He saw Miranda, no longer in bed, but sitting in a wing-backed chair, her legs drawn up to her chest and crossed at her ankles. Her elbows rested on her knees, her chin on her folded arms. She was dressed in a pink sweat suit and white socks. She turned her head and watched him approach. The subdued light hid many of her marks and bruises, but he still saw some of the discoloration around the features of her face.
He stopped in front of her, bent and kissed her forehead. She closed her eyes, as now both of them worked. He placed a hand on her cheek and held it there, as if the gentle pressure he applied would hasten her recovery.
Shadow of the Moon: A Fantasy of Love, Murder and Werewolves Page 22
