by Lane, Jessie
Uncle Owen and Logan enjoyed Kent’s obvious discomfort for a few minutes before her uncle sat forward and moved on to business. “Let’s start with what happened last night. Your team was called in because it was a hostage situation?”
Jenna set the tray of drinks that she had brought from her kitchen onto the coffee table, then pulled over an ottoman to sit on as Kent briefed them on the events from the previous night.
“What did they want in exchange for the hostages?”
Jenna answered this time, “Ten million dollars, and safe passage out of the restaurant.”
Her Uncle’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “That’s a lot of money, and I can see where money would usually be a motivating factor, but in this situation that simply doesn’t make sense to me.”
It was Kent and Jenna’s turn to look confused. Who wouldn’t want that much money? You could disappear to any number of places and never be seen or heard from again with that kind of payload. Not understanding where her Uncle was going, she asked, “Why not?”
“The Corvus Pack is financially wealthy. Think about it. Marcus Valerius Corvus was a Roman General, elected Consul six times, the highest elected position in that time, and appointed Dictator twice. Even back then he was already wealthy. On top of that, he has lived for thousands of years. The man was born in 370 B.C.. With a few well-placed investments, compound interest and such, he’s always been wealthy. From what I understand, he is generous enough to spread that wealth to anyone in his Pack. There should not be a shifter in his group that wants for anything. In fact, it would make membership to his Pack highly desirable among the wolf shifter community, but he’s known as a bit of an elitist. Very choosey about whom he lets in. So why would any member of his Pack do something so rash, or brazen, as to break laws and possibly out themselves to the human population for ten million dollars that they would have to, hypothetically, split eight ways? It just doesn’t make sense to me.”
She considered the argument. If the Corvus Pack were as wealthy as they were thought to be, then she could see her Uncle’s point. If they were active members of the Pack, then ten million dollars split eight ways wasn’t worth all of the cons that could be listed against it. First, there was the fact that they would have broken Pack law. She didn’t know all of them, but there was one that was utterly obvious in the Other community.
Don’t let the humans know what you are.
That law alone was usually punishable by death. Pardons were awarded under extreme circumstances only. For instance, if you were defending yourself against an attack of some sort and a human happened to witness it, then you couldn’t help but keep yourself alive, no matter who the spectators were. The humans would then either have their memories wiped through hypnosis, a medication of some sort, or on the rare occasion you knew a talented witch you could trust, then magic. However, that was if the human was lucky enough to be in the presence of an Other who cared whether the human lived or died. For those with the unfortunate luck to be in the presence of a less than discerning Other, they might have their neck snapped and then depending on the species of Other, consumed so that no evidence was left behind. She was guessing that this happened a lot more than she liked to think.
The only other reason that she could think of for a shifter to be pardoned from a death sentence for exposing themselves would be if their mate was human. Jenna was learning through Amy and Adam that the once taboo mating was now more common-placed than it used to be, out of necessity. There were only so many of Other species to go around. Eventually you needed new blood, so to speak, to avoid any cross mating between familial lines. Sometimes fate gave you a human mate to do so.
So, with all of that said, Jenna couldn’t grasp why any shifter would risk such a public display for ransom when it would certainly lead them to a death sentence.
Not unless they were walking dead men anyway.
“What if the eight men were cast out of the Pack for some reason? Or given a death sentence? Then they wouldn’t blink at doing something so desperate to survive. Sure, ten million dollars isn’t a lot of money split eight ways, but if they lived frugally and hid well, it would help them to get by until they could find a way to start making money on their own. If the Pack is living off of Corvus’ funds, then they would be penniless and desperate for money to survive.”
Logan picked up where his sister left off, “She has a point. Not many of the Packs have that kind of lifestyle. The majority of us have enough saved in Pack funds to take care of our own if emergencies happen and what not, but we don’t live our lives off of Pack funds. We all have jobs and support ourselves. So, if you’re a shifter who has been cast out, or given a death sentence, you have no money but you’re used to a pampered life where you didn’t have to work for a living, then you might do something outrageous to fix that. It’s a possibility.”
Uncle Owen ran his hands through his shoulder length hair, “Well, let’s hope that’s the case. Rogue shifters would be a lot easier to swallow than the possibility of ulterior motives. It would make more sense than Corvus trying something in our territory. He may not be the Pack Master of Europe, but he has enough territory and influence over there that I couldn’t see any reason for him wanting to cause trouble for us here in the States.”
Kent scratched his chin. “Where is his territory? I’ve heard the name but never had a reason to pay attention.”
“Germany.”
“You mean the entire country is his territory?”
Uncle Owen smirked, “Don’t be too impressed. The country of Germany is only slightly smaller than the state of Montana.”
Kent rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I can see your point, but don’t you have two Alphas with packs in the state of Montana?”
“Yes I do. I never said Corvus’ territory wasn’t impressive. I was just implying that it shouldn’t be exaggerated because it had the title of ‘country’ and not ‘state’. It’s not as if he’s Pack Master of Europe. He’s a strong Alpha from what I’ve heard about him. His Pack is known to be a bit snobby about but also known to be merciless. So, in short, he’s nobody to piss off if we can avoid it, but he’s also not somebody I’m worried about personally. I’ll have to get in contact with Pack Master Moreau for more information, and possibly permission for a visit.”
“Would the name Moreau happen to be in a coincidence ?”
Uncle Owen shook his head, “No, it’s very much on purpose. No coincidence about it. Before he became Pack Master, Leroy Moreau went by another name. His birth name was Francois Antoine. The problem he found with keeping that name though was that it was made well known when he killed The Beast of Gevaudan in 1765. This beast had been credited for two hundred and ten attacks, one hundred and thirteen deaths, and a number of injuries in the Margeride Mountains. The locals claimed that it was a wolf and that most of the victims killed were also eaten by the beast. The second reason keeping his birth name was a problem was because when he wasn’t recognized by humans for being the killer of the beast, then he was recognized by Others as being the son of the beast.”
“The Beast of Gevaudan was Francois Antoine’s wolf shifter father who had gone mad. Antoine killed him when it became obvious that there was no way to bring his father back from the depths of insanity. He then became Alpha of his father’s pack and moved them for safety reasons, to the other side of France so they wouldn’t be recognized by anyone from the events around Gevaudan. When they settled, he changed his name to keep anonymity. As you know Kent, and you will learn Jenna, as Others we often have to change our names and move locations to keep our secrets. We can’t live in the same area, never aging and have the locals not pick up on it. Not unless you live in one of those rare secluded Other cities, that is. So when Antoine felt the need to change his identity around the beginning of the 1900’s, after the release of the now extremely famous book by H.G. Wells, he chose Leroy Moreau. He told me that it was because he was the King of Animals. Leroy means King, and well, you get the
reason for Moreau. He’s managed to hold onto that name since, and I don’t think he has any plans to change it.”
No one spoke again for a while. The silence was heavy with individual contemplation, and even though Jenna was young for being Other, she could guess why the story would weigh on everyone’s minds. Being Other meant living a kind of longevity that humans could never grasp. Your average human lives sixty to eighty years. Your average shifter, demon, or born vampire ages as humans would up until their second puberty hits, which for Others was about the human equivalent of twenty-five. It was also considered an Other’s sexual puberty. The start of when their bodies could produce children. When that phase hit, Others no longer aged. Instead, they became immortal.
There were remarkably few things that caused the death of an immortal. A violent death such as a beheading would kill any of them. On the other hand, piercing their heart was just as brutally effective. Besides those reasons, the majority of the Other species had heightened abilities to help keep them alive. They all had an ability to heal faster than humans and certain immunities that kept them from catching any disease. Shifters had advanced senses for smells, but all Other species had extraordinary strength and speed, keener hearing and sharper eyesight to some degree over their fragile human counterparts.
The longer life span and advanced abilities would probably seem like a dream come true until some reached their breaking points. A stark fact of their preternatural lives was that it was unbelievably violent. From what Jenna understood, it was entirely commonplace to see many of your loved ones die in extreme circumstances. One could imagine what seeing things like that, in addition to living hundreds, or thousands, of years could do to one’s mind. Others who lost their grip on reality and flipped their psychotic switch were unfortunately much more commonplace than any of them would like to think about. The fact that Pack Master Moreau would give himself such a grim reminder of not only the loss of his father but the fact that he had been the one to put him out of his misery, was both surprising and sad.
Jenna didn’t do sad very well, so she decided it was time for a change of topics.
Tapping her fingertip against the coffee table, she analyzed her Uncle’s face. Warm green eyes so utterly different from her chilling ice blue ones, a straight regal nose, and sharp, prominent cheekbones stood out over the two day old black stubble that graced his strong, square jaw. She bet that jaw was about to start grinding so hard, that by the time she was done with her demand, it would be a miracle if he still had teeth in his head.
“If you go to see Corvus, I’m going with you.”
The muscles in his jaw flexed harshly while an atrocious noise subtly buzzed the air in a steady rhythm as the bottom half of his face moved from side to side, causing that grating sound to continue. With the strength that emanated from the simple action, it was a miracle that the earnest scraping of tooth against tooth hadn’t resulted in pulverizing his teeth into nothing but bloody, gummy stumps.
Did somebody mention dentures?
Logan and Kent sat deathly still while Jenna continued to look at her Uncle, determination plain to see on her face. Finally, she watched as he sucked a lungful of air through his nose and then exhaled it slowly.
His eyes narrowed dangerously and Jenna had the distinct impression that if she had been anyone other than his niece, then she’d have found herself on her back and bloody. “You, little girl, are rather determined to blow to hell all of your family’s hard work at trying to keep you safe. Is there a particular reason behind this or do you just have a suicide wish you’re trying to fulfill?”
“No suicide wish, Uncle. Two reasons: First, because these guys came to what I now consider my territory and caused massive problems that could have ended in a rather blatant demonstration of the existence of Others. I feel it’s only right that I be there to follow through on this situation. Secondly, it’s time you started teaching me more about our world. You’ve hidden me for almost twenty-four years. Doing that may have saved my life from perceived threats because I’m a hybrid, and I appreciate all of those hard efforts on my behalf, but it’s also been a hindrance to me. I am, for all intents and purposes, blind about Other species and how to survive among them. I think it’s time for you and Mama to fix that. I figured it was best to start with you.”
He pursed his lips as if considering her argument, tilting his head marginally to the side. Now that she had the opportunity to interact with other shifters, Jenna was quickly finding it vastly amusing how much of their animal natures could be seen even in their human forms. The head tilt very much reminded her of how a canine would tilt its head to the side while studying something. Of course, now probably be a good time to chuckle at how cute she thought the similarity was. He also would not find it particularly amusing to know that mentally she was picturing him as an adorable little puppy, instead of the fierce beast that he was in reality.
“You, my defiant little niece, make a solid argument. One I happen to agree with now that you’ve decided to splash your picture around on newspapers. If I need to go see Corvus, then you shall come with me. For now, let’s move onto other things. As your partner so eloquently pointed out earlier, I don’t know where to search to gather information on unknown Others who might have come into Wilmington recently. Where do we go to find out that kind of information discreetly?”
The smile that spread across Kent’s face was smug. “I know just the person to go see.”
Chapter Eight
Jenna watched her partner out of the corner of her eye as they raced down Highway 40, heading towards the town of Rocky Point in Kent’s ridiculously flashy yellow BMW. The two-seater roadster had more gadgets than she could even name, or figure out what to do with. Not to mention that earlier, when she let him talk her into riding with him, the man practically orgasmed in childish man-glee at her wide eyed surprise when he retracted the hardtop roof into the trunk and ordered her to braid her hair if she wanted to avoid a rat’s nest for when they reached their destination. Since she was guessing that Kent made the same puny public servant pay that she did, her imagination was running wild with suspicions on his ability to afford such a pricey car. Never one to be shy, she decided to ferret out what she could. The rush of wind whipping around them in the convertible made it impossible to say anything aloud, so she gently poked at him telepathically to let him know she wanted to talk.
“You rang, sugar lumpkins?”
She growled at the atrocious nickname. “If you value keeping all of your favorite body parts working, you won’t ever call me that again.”
The side of his lips tipped up in amusement, “Whatever you say, my snarly sexpot.”
She chose to ignore that quip. “Is this really your car?”
He caressed the steering wheel in the same manner that Jenna imagined a lover would their partner’s body. Adoringly, as if it was the most cherished thing he possessed in life. She snorted at the idea that he’d probably popped a hard-on while said caressing was being done. She certainly didn’t need that mental picture.
“Yeah. Isn’t she a beaut? I just bought her a couple of months ago.”
“How does a police officer afford a car like this?”
“You ready to tell me all of your secrets, Annie Oakley?”
A pointed silence filled the car. It felt like there should be a neon sign flashing ‘awkward’ over her head.
“That’s what I thought. When you’re ready to spill your guts darlin’, then I’ll tell you some of mine. Till then, feel free to just bask in all the glory that is me, and I’ll pretend that you didn’t just try to insult me by questioning my integrity because I drive a car you think I shouldn’t be able to afford.”
Well, now she just felt like shit. As much as her suspicious mind didn’t want to admit it, she’d just acted like a judgmental bitch. Accomplishing nothing but inserting her foot so far in her mouth that her tonsils could taste the rubber from the sole of her shoe, while simultaneously pissing off her partner.
And the demon had every right to be miffed at her. She didn’t know him. For all she knew he could be hundreds, or thousands of years old, and financially secure through investments like the Corvus Pack. Not to mention that this probably wasn’t the best way to cement a relationship with her new partner, someone who she was going to have trust implicitly to watch her back in potentially dangerous situations in the future. A trust, that she was going to have to form quickly as the potential for those dangerous situations were more than likely on the immediate horizon. She concentrated on the feeling of her braid flying around her neck as the car continued to zip down the Highway to a destination that Kent had refused to give her an address for. Stating that he knew what he was doing and she just needed to trust him, whoever they needed to talk to would be there. She’d done a genuinely superb job displaying her ability to trust so far, hadn’t she?
“Ok, so that wasn’t the most tactful thing for me to ask about. Or how to go about it. I’ll try harder to have a little more faith in you from now on.”
She saw his eyebrow ratchet up his forehead. “Is that piddly little statement supposed to assuage my trounced upon feelings, darlin’? Make me feel all better?”
“What would make you feel better, Kent?”
He took his eyes off the road to look at her and smirk, “A blowjob?”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you take anything in life seriously?”
