Suddenly, Igor’s absence became tangible. What a field day he’d have with me in his lab now.
My cousin’s face screwed up. “You’re thinking too much like a scientist, not like a hood.”
“What in the hell does that mean?”
“We’re at least a dozen generations down the line from when Gerwalta Faust got Black Forest fever. You really think you’re the only descendant?” Markus paused as his eyes filled with thought. “The line is actually on your dad’s side, you said, right? From the yellow hoods? Don’t you have any cousins from his clan? I’m sure if we got in touch with Pietro’s family in Argentina we’d discover other aesthetics.”
“Asenaics.” I shook my head. “Remember how we agreed I should keep this on the DL? I don’t think reaching out to my extended family is down or low. Besides, my dad doesn’t have any family left except my mom and me. My abuela was the only closely-related person on his side of the family, and she died ten years ago.”
The hood beside me balanced his chin on a balled fist. “If we could look at the archives, we’d be able to trace back, then see if there were any special mentions of anyone in the annals who howled at the moon and hunted tasty villagers.”
Humor finds no anchor on a soul worn down by sorrow. “That’s what I went to the Schloss to request, but Chin wouldn’t listen. Now that she knows what I was after, they’re not going to let you anywhere near them either. I’m surprised they haven’t ordered you to disown me too yet.”
“Chin can’t touch me. I’m still under the Grand Matron’s orders to watch and protect you. Even if those orders came down because she’s your mother and she’s using the rights of the throne to benefit her own family, none of the Matron Council would dare to override Aunt Brunnie without good reason.”
I wouldn’t be so sure. The disgust in Chin’s voice when she spoke about not acting on behalf of my mother still echoed in my memories.
“I wish there were some other source we could go to, but all the archives have been centralized at Schloss Wolfsretter since it was turned over to the community.”
“You don’t think ancestry.com would be able to trace back our family that far, do you?” Markus asked. I mean, we still paid taxes and bought plow horses and stuff.”
“Doubtful.” My shoulders slumped. “Right now, I’d settle for just knowing his name. Why, Markus? Why is Gerwalta Faust’s name a firebrand of traitor to us, but her mate is considered so shameful we know nothing about him?”
“Probably because back in those days, no one cared about the wolves but the wolves.” A tiny, sarcastic laugh escaped him. “Not that we’ve come very far since then.”
We sat, letting our ambitions war with our adversity in the battlefield of our minds, until a cannon exploded behind my brain, taking me to my feet. “Oh my god, Markus, you’re a genius.”
“That’s what I keep telling everyone.”
I ignored his cheekiness. “Somewhere in my family tree, there was a baby born to Gerwalta Faust and a wolf whose name we don’t know. We can’t get to our records to see if it’s there, but we can get to the wolf’s.”
“Great idea,” Markus mocked, “except lupines aren’t known for their archival skills. Before the Matron Council had the database, all that kind of tracking stuff just happened... ad hoc.”
I grimaced, knowing Markus was right. The hoods had had to keep records. They had wealth, land, contracts, correspondences with kings and sultans. The wolves in most of Europe had been farmers or laborers, often making a living at the pleasure of their overseeing matron. The hoods, or wolfsretters as they’d been known back then, didn’t treat the packs under their protection as anything much more than cattle.
Old fairy tales weren’t told to inspire hope or recall legendary love. They were tools to sow seeds of fear and hate. Little Red Riding Hood was used to tuck my kind’s children into bed and implant in our minds how lupine leanings would corrupt us and lead to our ruin. If Gerwalta Faust’s “crime” had led to an alpha’s execution, the wolves would not have soon forgotten, either. Their histories might not record numbers and contracts like ours; likely they weren’t written down at all. They were howled at the moon, barked in the trees, spun around warm hearths on cold winter nights...
They were oral.
“The wolves may have passed down the story, like we did,” I said. “Only, the other side of it. A warning to their pups of the danger of letting your guard down around a hood. That’s our next move, Markus. If we can’t turn a light on the wolf, we’re going to look for his shadow.”
FIVE
Pastels were an odd color choice for maps. The gentle yellows, tranquil blues, and pastoral greens used to color the different countries of Europe belied a history wrought with conflict, death, and hatred. True, the continent had been more or less peaceful during my lifetime, but then again, huey political boundaries didn’t correlate much with ours. The supe map would be colored in radical reds, angry purples, and confusing grays, a swirling confusion of push, pull, and parry. Borders were fluid, set down in the cardinal directions based on the dominance of whatever pack claimed—and kept—territory.
Cities belonged solely to the vampires, as they had been since ancient times, their conflicts played out on urban turfs. Although in recent years, they’d spilled out from beyond those traditional hunting grounds. Thus, the whole reason Tobias came to Chicago from sleepy little Morpeth, Northumberland. If the slayers had still been around, would I ever have met the man I’d come to love? Did I owe my happiness to the imprisonment of a dying race? That I could only have him because his mate had been experimented on to the point of death by Vlad’s supporters?
All things I needed not to think about right now. Focus, Geri. This isn’t just about you and Tobias. Other hoods could be in danger, and they may not even know it.
Markus, Amy, and Caleb waited until sunrise before converging in the kitchen. On the floors above, the nineteen other slayers had divided the available rooms in ways that suited them, though the pregnant Alexandra had been granted a solo suite.
Markus briefed the other two on what both he and I had already discussed.
“After ’48, when Schloss Wolfsretter was converted from the residence of the House of Red to the administrative headquarters of the whole hood world, the pack that had been rooted in the Triberg area,” he pushed his index finger over the very town on the map we currently occupied, “fractured into two packs and relocated. Most of them went here.” His finger skirted to a region some 200km to the southeast. “The Oberstdorf Forest. But a few went in the opposite direction.” His hand traversed down a minty green border region to a Pepto-Bismal shaded country. “To the highlands just below the Austrian border.”
Caleb crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Start with the bigger pack. More mouths, more opportunities for oral traditions to be handed down.”
Amy nodded. “As a life-long gossip, I agree. If we drive crazy fast, we can be down there by nightfall.”
“You know, Geri, this actually is one time when being relinquished is going to help you.” Markus turned his eyes up to meet mine. “You’re not a recognized member of the community, so you don’t have to go through the formality of telling the alpha you’re coming to the packland or letting the local matron know you’re there. You can just wander in at your own risk.”
I grimaced. “Yeah, but it also means you can’t come with me. Most wolves are kind, but having a rogue hood show up on their land uninvited might leave me wishing I had backup.”
Amy quirked her head to the side. “Local matron? You mean there’s more than just Geri’s mother?”
“More than one?” Caleb coughed a laugh. “The hoods are like a paramilitary organization. Very organized, very tidy, dividing the world into controllable zones of dominance.”
“Actually, our current set up is something based off the Ottomans,” Markus countered. “One grand poohbah at its head, from the royal family, if you will, though all bloodlines tech
nically have a claim. Then there’s a council of advisors, and locally, each region has its own governor. The Ottomans are the reason we call them sanjaks, which unlike almost everything else, is so not a German word.”
Amy’s hand circled vaguely over the map. “So, you mean, like, the whole world is parceled out, and you guys... The House of Red?... are the hood royal family?”
“There’s no one in Antarctica,” I said flatly, vaguely motioning at the map. “Or most of Oceania. Australia has a few packs and a matron, but that’s because of immigration. Lupines aren’t native there.”
“I like how you ignored the part about being royal,” Amy said. “Does that mean your mom is...”
“The Sultan, the emperor, the master of the universe... Whatever way you want to think about it,” Markus confirmed. “As long as she has the backing of the Council of Matrons, Aunt Brunnie’s word is law to all the hood clans.”
“Which, as you pointed out,” I interrupted, “no longer includes me.” I watched the light go out from Amy’s eyes, knowing my friend had already been constructing some sort of Disney-inspired saga in her head. “Right, so that’s my plan. I need a few hours of sleep, but then I’m going to set out for Austria.”
The three people across the table blinked in rapid succession.
Caleb shook his head. “You can’t honestly think we’re letting you go alone.”
“Of course, you’re going to,” I said. “The bigger need for security is here. If the Ravens show up while I’m gone, Caleb can lead the assault and Markus knows all the hideouts and escape routes from Triberg. And Amy can’t come because, well...”
“Because Amy is a weak huey who will snap like a twig,” she said.
A sheepish smile crossed my face. “I wouldn’t have put it like that, exactly.”
The blonde folded her arms over her chest. “Doesn’t make it untrue, though, does it? No worries. After being attacked by a vampire, I’m not eager to be mauled by a werewolf, bested by pixies, or in anyway assaulted by whatever other creatures are out there.”
Caleb turned back to his original point. “I’m pretty sure we don’t have to worry about pixies, but there’s still five Ravens left alive and they’re going to be gunning for you. They might be thinking hard about heading into Triberg with the Hood HQ sitting right up the hill, but once you leave the Black Forest, who knows? Unless you’re planning on not sleeping for two days straight or stopping to use the bathroom at some roadside gas station, you need someone to cover your six. You’re not going alone.”
I leaned back from the table. “I agree, that’s why I want to take Yan.”
“Oh! I’d love to go!”
All four spun the moment his voice called out, Caleb even balancing a conjured solarium on his open palm. Markus meanwhile pulled his hidden silver into a blade. Not to be outdone, Amy brandished a banana swiped from a bowl on the nearby counter.
Though, in her defense, it was a very large banana.
Yan wore a crooked grin. “You can put down the produce, Miss Popowitz. Potassium’s effect on the undead is overhyped.”
Markus, realizing his lover had entered without a sound, reclaimed his silver and circled the others, arms open.
“Sweetheart, what have I told you about sneaking up on me like that?”
“Don’t, or you may inadvertently chop my head off?”
The male hood pushed the vampire’s cheeks between his massive hands. “I mean, not off, probably, but still...” He graced a kiss over the vampire’s lips. “I thought you went home. Have you been hanging out here the whole time?”
Yan’s eyes landed on me, like a child constructing a cover story after breaking his mother’s favorite vase. “I... um, changed my mind. I smoked in through the garage just before the sun came up. I’ve been hanging around in the heating vents.”
“Heating vents?” Caleb’s query wasn’t directed at anyone in particular. “I never thought about it, but makes sense. Inga used to use the heating system at WWL to get all over the building. How are we going to defend against that, if the Ravens try to break in?”
“We can’t,” I said. There was no point in false optimism. It would get people killed. “This house wasn’t designed for that kind of defense. Keep working with the slayers on sharpening their skills. For the ones who are in good health or haven’t been through their awakening, start them working on some defensive forms.” I jerked my head in my best friend’s direction. “Amy, too. Just because she’s not as strong as the others doesn’t mean she should be left defenseless, in the event of pixies or whatever.”
But Caleb wasn’t distracted by my request in the least.
“You knew Yan was still here.” The slayer’s narrowed eyes focused in on me. “How?”
I huffed. “How else? Because he’s a second pair of eyes ordered to watch me.”
The vampire dared feign confusion. “Miss Kline, I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re—”
“My only question,” I interrupted, “is who gave the order? My mother or Chin?”
At that, the game came to an end. Yan grimaced. “Matron Chin.”
“Wait, what?” Markus took a step back from his boyfriend. “Why? I thought that was my job.”
Yan’s hand rose to stroke down my cousin’s cheek. “Because I volunteered. If it wasn’t me, it’d be someone less amenable to presenting you all in a good light. I was strategizing.” The formalities of lovers’ reunion aside, the vampire turned to me. “As long as you can provide me a safe place to shelter during sunlit hours, I would be happy to accompany you to visit the Austrian packlands.”
“She’s not going to Austria, and she’s definitely not going in the company of a vampire.” Caleb planted his finger on the Oberstdorf Forest. “Geri, your chances are better with the bigger pack. If they turn out not to know anything, it’s not that long of a drive to the other settlement.”
“I don’t care how short the drive is,” I snapped. “I know it’s irrational, but I’m going with my gut on this. Besides, the pack that’s stayed further away from civilization is the one less likely to have given into modern distractions. The oral traditions would hold up better through the years.”
“Actually, there’s something to that,” Amy said. “You know, I read this one article I came across about this remote valley in the east part of Turkey where the people speak a whistle language. Like, complete with verbs and nouns and stuff, only in whistles. I guess the sound carries, like, a mile over the valley. But now they’re afraid the younger generation isn’t going to learn it, since it’s not the most efficient way to communicate anymore, given that everybody has a cell phone.”
By the time the blonde huey finished, the rest of us sat with jaws unhinged.
Amy looked at her fingernails. “Why are you guys always so surprised when I know stuff? I’m not the Daphne of this Scooby gang, you know. Supes don’t have exclusive rights on useful information.”
I shook off my surprise before continuing. “Yan, I still would like to have you with me. A vampire can move with speeds I can’t, maybe get us out of a critical situation. But this isn’t hood business; any information I get isn’t for her consumption.”
“I’m already not going to tell you you’re an asenaic,” the vampire said with a wink. When my face morphed into a mask of shock, he pointed back over his shoulder. “I was back there, listening, remember? No, I’m just supposed to report if you try to make any contact with other hoods. I was very careful about what I was agreeing to.”
Amy threw her arms out at that one, though. “Come on, Geri, you barely know this parasite—” Her eyes dashed to said parasite. “No offense.” Then landed back on me. “—and you’re just going to get in a car with him and drive off? What if he’s just waiting for the perfect chance to kill you?”
Yan’s hand splayed over his chest. “I would sooner destroy a Picasso.”
I didn’t think I was worthy of that level of reverence, but Amy was only being a concerned friend. “If his
goal was to kill me, he would have done it when we were alone in the yard. Anyway, if Markus trusts him, I trust him. Only, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to keep a vampire out of the sunlight in a car?”
“I thought the answer would be obvious,” Yan said. “You are a hood. Encase me in silver.”
I felt like I’d been asked to join a BDSM gang, when I had already said I didn’t whip that way. “Can’t we just use a Tupperware bowl or something?”
As if we had anything that Donna Reed in this house.
Yan shook his head. “I don’t mind being trapped in something, but I must be sure it’s sunlight-proof. There may be alternatives, but I’d prefer it this way. I know most vamps can withstand a few hours, but my skin is a little more... sensitive.”
“And you’re trusting me to do that? To entomb you in silver?”
“Of course.” Yan looked surprised that I’d even ask. “Markus trusts you, therefore, I trust you.”
“Thank you, Yan.” I turned to my cousin. “While we’re gone, put in some appearances at the compound. I don’t want the council to forget that they still owe the slayers if the slayers agree to take that damned contract.”
Markus nodded. “I’ll do what I can. In return, make sure my boyfriend doesn’t die.”
“You mean die again?”
“Seriously, Geri.” Markus’s face drained of any jest as his hand wrapped around my forearm and squeezed. “He’s my Tobias. Don’t damage him.”
I looked back over my shoulder, at the vampire who was now quietly watching with a cocky grin on his face. “I’ll get him back to you unblemished. I promise.”
SIX
For centuries, supe intellectuals and philosophers had debated whether or not those once known as “dark ones” were still, or ever indeed had been, human. Opinions varied, bolstered by evidence and counter-evidence, varying degrees of facts, and even a few so-called divine revelations. Even the supernatural races were not immune from crackpots and self-appointed prophets. At the end of the day, since hoods, slayers, and werewolves could still breed with hueys, the collective summation was that, technically, we were only a different type of human.
Rebellious Hood Page 5
