* * *
"We’ll take a trip to Boulder on Tuesday, and continue to D.C. on Wednesday," Winkler sat beside Ashe's desk. Andy had found a chair somewhere so Ashe could have an occasional visitor. "Someone will go with you to pack more clothes tonight after work. Pack some nice stuff, too. We can go out to eat afterward."
"What are we doing in Boulder and D.C.?" Ashe asked. While he waited for Winkler to answer, he handed two folders to Andy. No information was contained in either folder to tell him whether these were Winkler Security divisions or something else. Ashe decided he didn't want to know. "I circled the questionable entries," Ashe said. Andy flipped the top folder open, nodded and walked out.
"Weldon wants to meet us in Boulder and question the Packmaster. We want to know if he had any inkling of what Dexter was doing and just failed to report it."
"How am I supposed to help with that?" Ashe asked. "I thought interrogation was your area."
"It is. But it seems that Sali told Marco about an incident on the beach yesterday. I'd like to see how that might help us out, Ashe. In Boulder and D.C. After all, a vampire is only awake during the night. You're available twenty-four-seven."
"Does everybody tell on me now?" Ashe rose from his desk chair, angry immediately.
"Ashe, I didn't say that to upset you," Winkler attempted to calm Ashe. "Marco has sworn oaths as a member of the Dallas Pack. He's loyal to me and tells me what I ask of him."
"Is that how it works?" Ashe snapped. "I haven't sworn any oaths, Mr. Winkler."
"You're too young and you're not Pack. Werewolves do the oaths the first time they run with the Pack. Human children or mates of werewolves do a different oath and they have to be at least eighteen to take it."
"But the people I think are my friends can betray me at every turn? Is that it?" Ashe was prepared to go to mist. He wanted to scream and cry. The bitterness almost overwhelmed him. Sali had promised. He'd promised.
"Ashe, no." Winkler had him gripped in an embrace quickly. "We're the people who care about you."
"Yeah?" Ashe hopped to the other side of the room, away from Winkler's hug. "All I see are people trying to use me." He wiped dampness from his cheeks. "The Council takes my dad, because that's a way to take me. The Elemaiya hunt me because they want to kill me or bend me to their will. And I can't trust anybody, can I?" Ashe disappeared before Winkler could stop him.
* * *
"Teenage hormones," Trajan set a cup of coffee in front of Winkler. Winkler muttered a rude oath and lifted the cup. "Now, we just have to figure out how to find him."
"If he's not back by ten tonight, call his cell," Trace suggested.
"I know now not to tell him that Marco is bringing me information," Winkler blew out a sigh.
"He thinks of Marco as a friend. You just ended that friendship," Trajan observed.
"You think I don't know that? Sometimes I should have a lock on my mouth."
"The relationship with Sali was tenuous, too," Trace said. "And that may be over as well. After all, Marcus would have been hauling Sali out of jail if he'd jumped those drunks. Ashe took care of the situation."
"And he’ll figure out that we know he told Sali, Wynn and Dori what he can do. He needs peers who know what he can do and understand him better because of it. Not somebody who's gonna run to the older folks every time they see something out of the ordinary," Trajan added. "We betrayed a trust, boss. Big time."
"Yeah. I get that." Winkler rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "And I don't want to report to his parents that we managed to lose him in only a day."
"He doesn't have a soul to confide in, now," Trace said. "At least I had Trajan and Jason to talk to when I was in school. We ruined things for Ashe, boss."
* * *
"Randy, it's better if you don't know how I got here," Ashe sat at Randy's tiny kitchen table drinking a soda.
"It's good to see you. Mom went home three days ago. Tried to talk me into going back to New Mexico with her. I don't have any good memories of that place, Ashe." Randy shuddered.
"Yeah. I know that," Ashe nodded and sipped his drink.
"Tell me why you're here, man." Randy said.
"Can't. And I have to go back before they call out the dogs. You know what I mean."
"Yeah. Been there," Randy grumped. "Life's not great here, either. I’m still trying to figure out how rat hearts are exploding in the old train tunnels beneath Chicago. Nobody else is reporting rat deaths by the hundreds."
"Their hearts are exploding?" Ashe jerked his head up. He'd been staring at his soda can, tracing a finger through the condensation on the side.
"Yeah. Know anything about that?"
"Not for sure," Ashe hedged. "Randy, stay away from those tunnels. You can take that warning to the bank. I'll have to let Mr. Winkler know. If I can stomach talking to him. Gotta go." Ashe stood. "Thanks for the soda." Ashe walked toward the door of Randy's tiny, slightly untidy apartment. "Find another story, Randy. Leave the rats alone for now."
* * *
"Don't say another word to me and keep Marco and Sali away. They're not my friends. Never have been." Ashe threw clothing into a roller bag much harder than necessary. Trajan had been watching for lights to come on in the Evans home. He'd been rewarded around nine that evening. Now he watched Ashe pack for the trip, anger in every movement.
"Ashe, I could give you all kinds of reasons for what happened, but they won't mean a thing to you right now. I will say that Bear Wright was offered the Principal's job late this afternoon. He accepted. Catherine and Barton Copeland went home in a huff." Trajan lifted an eyebrow at Ashe's messy packing but didn't comment.
"Too bad. She was prejudiced. Like a lot of werewolves," Ashe snapped.
"Some of them are," Trajan agreed. "And some shifters are as well. We won't even start on the humans or other races. Ashe, it's something we all have to learn to live with. We know it's wrong. They don't."
"You know what else is wrong? Having your best friend sell you out." Ashe flung T-shirts into the bag.
"Look, I know that hurts. And I know you’ll be suspicious of all of us from now on. That's a terrible place to be. Next time, go directly to Winkler. He knows how to keep secrets."
"Fat chance," Ashe said, wrapping shampoo in a plastic bag and tossing it into the suitcase.
"Things keep changing for you. You hold some amazing talents. You have to tell somebody."
"Nope. Not falling for that again."
Trajan sighed. "You have no idea how much Winkler cares about you. How much Trace and I care about you. You're like the little brother Trace and I never had. And Winkler—he thinks of you as another child."
"I’m not werewolf, Trajan. Nor will I ever be."
"We know that. We don't care. Does it matter that much to you—that people who care about you—love you, even—are werewolf?"
"Keep Sali and Marco away from me," Ashe zipped up the bag and hefted it off the bed.
"We’ll be in Boulder around ten tomorrow morning—jet is scheduled to leave around seven. We’ll fly to D.C. first thing Wednesday. You won't see Sali or Marco the whole time we're gone."
"If you're counting on absence making the heart grow fonder," Ashe pounded down the steps to the lower level, "then you're wasting your breath."
* * *
"He's back, boss, and he's mad," Trajan announced as he and Ashe walked into Winkler's temporary home. Winkler didn't attempt to say anything as Ashe stalked past, heading toward the bedroom that Trace had cleared out for him, wearing an angry scowl.
"Has he had dinner?" Winkler asked as the door to Ashe's new quarters slammed shut.
"I don't think so. And he's very sure he never wants to see Marco or Sali again."
"Too bad you can't rewind this whole thing, boss," Trace drawled.
"Trace, go get a pizza. We’ll slide it under the door if we have to." Winkler handed cash to Trace.
"What kind?" Trace took the money and pocketed it.
"Pepperoni, what else? Get a sausage and mushroom too, just in case."
"Will do. I’ll grab Ace on the way out."
"You do that." Winkler shooed Trace out the door.
* * *
"Ashe is pissed." Marco sat beside Sali at the kitchen island. "Found out this morning before Winkler hauled him off to the airport."
"About what?" Sali dipped up scrambled eggs and stuffed them in his mouth.
"At whom," Marco sighed. "He's so mad at both of us he could spit. Winkler let the cat out of the bag, Sali. Ashe knows I've been informing Winkler."
Sali swallowed his mouthful of food with difficulty. "He didn't. I promised Ashe, Marco. I promised him I wouldn't tell. He knows. Ashe knows everything. He's not stupid, Marco."
"I know that," Marco muttered. "And when Cori finds out, well," Marco shrugged. Cori wouldn't be happy, he knew that much. Cori liked Ashe. A lot.
"She won't be that mad at you."
"Don't bet on it."
* * *
"Kid, things will go a lot better if you're not so mad at all of us you can't see straight," Trajan observed dryly as he settled his lean frame into the seat beside Ashe. "And we'd all feel better if you'd eat something." Ashe stared out the window of Winkler's private jet, ignoring Trajan. He'd refused pizza the night before and snubbed the offer of breakfast at a restaurant in Corpus Christi. "Ashe, you don't have any weight to spare. At least eat. We all acknowledge that you have the right to be angry."
"And you'll do the same thing again, when the opportunity comes," Ashe muttered.
"What are you planning to do, Ashe? Marco will continue to work for Winkler."
"Are you forcing me to speak with him?"
"I won't. I don't know what Winkler wants to do." Trajan looked past Ashe at the mountains they were passing over. The jet would be landing in Denver soon.
"I promised Mom and Dad that I'd stay with Winkler while Mom is gone. When she gets back I may rethink my employment options." Ashe misted out of his seat and appeared in another at the back of the jet. Trajan breathed a frustrated sigh.
* * *
"Trace is riding herd on him," Winkler informed the Grand Master. Weldon had driven down with two bodyguards. They met Winkler at the airport with a rented van. Weldon could see Ashe and Trace at a tiny pizza restaurant inside the Denver airport. Ashe was buying a slice of pizza, refusing to allow Trace to pay.
"He threatened to quit?" Weldon turned to Trajan.
"He said he'd rethink his employment options," Trajan repeated. "Grand Master, we stripped every bit of privacy away from him and he thinks he has no friends. None that he can trust, anyway."
Weldon cursed softly. "What can we do?" he asked.
"No idea," Winkler said. "He's not one of my kids, though I'd adopt him in a second if he didn't have parents already. My gardener put him through hell; he blistered his hands laying new sprinklers and never complained once. He's not one of those kids who goes looking for trouble."
"And you say Griffin told him he's pure-blood Elemaiya? Winkler, this means that none of us can lay claim to him." Weldon wanted to curse again.
"Bear told us in his interview that he's looking to put a shifter council together. He has a lot of contacts, Weldon. If anybody can get that disorganized bunch together, it will be him." Winkler didn't sound happy.
"You're upset that they might finally organize and lay down some rules?" Trajan stared at Winkler.
"No, he's upset over the fact that they might have as much pull with Ashe as anyone else," Weldon pointed out judiciously. "A Shifter Council could be very influential with Ashe—his mother is a shifter and they haven't betrayed him in any way. If shifter Enforcers are created, he could go to them if we don't fix this. Face it; we all need him, Trajan. Desperately. I just don't want him turned to vampire without his knowledge or consent. He'll belong wholly to the Council after that and be forced to live under Wlodek's thumb. Like Lissa."
"And asleep every day, all day," Winkler agreed. "We don't need that. We need that talent available during day hours. If Wlodek had any sense, he'd see it, too."
"I think Wlodek worries that he might not be able to completely control Ashe. It's a valid concern," Wlodek said.
"They're coming," Trajan whispered. Ashe had devoured two large slices of pizza while Winkler and the Grand Master spoke.
"Ashe, you can't let a bunch of clueless wolves upset you," Weldon said when Ashe and Trace walked up. "We don't know everything and don't claim to. Winkler and I have made mistakes in the past and likely will make more in the future. Son, I think the wolves here would give their lives for you and I don't say that lightly."
"You trust them. I can't trust anyone," Ashe muttered, ducking his head.
"You can trust them not to let that information go any farther," Weldon said. "Trust us that much at least. In the meantime, let's go talk to the Packmaster in Boulder. If he or his Second knew or suspected what Beesley was doing, then I want to know. You can see the sense in that, can't you?"
"Don't need somebody who can ignore that kind of crime anywhere near a position of power," Ashe grumbled. He still had visions of deaths in his head and none had been merciful.
"Ashe, you're really smart. Sometimes we forget that," Winkler placed an arm around Ashe's shoulders. "Help us out, son."
"I'll go."
"Good. Great. Load up and let's get to Boulder," Weldon ordered. Halfway there they pulled over to get the Grand Master a cup of coffee. All of them slid into a booth at the truck stop restaurant and ordered drinks. Ashe, refusing to look at the others, idly played with his soft drink cup when their order came.
"Lissa told a funny story once," Winkler said, causing Ashe to lift his head. He'd been staring at his glass of juice, tuning out the conversation around him. "She said that she and her human husband went to a restaurant in San Francisco on vacation. The waiter brought a huge, live lobster out on a tray for everybody to stare at. Her husband felt sorry for the lobster and shouted 'Let my people go,' in front of a large crowd. They were asked to leave by the staff."
Ashe blinked at Winkler and then laughed. "Kid, I'm sorry," Winkler apologized. "Maybe we should talk more often. I'll tell you things, you can tell me things. We'll leave out the middleman. Don't be upset with Marco. He was following orders. I don't control Sali. You'll have to work that out yourself."
"I won't trust them again." Ashe had gone from smiling to sullen in the space of a blink. Winkler sighed.
"Come on, kid. Let's get some air," Trajan said, pulling Ashe from the booth at the coffee shop. Trace followed as they walked outside. The air was thinner where they were, Ashe realized. Cooler, too. Mountains surrounded them and Ashe saw bits of white on the tallest peaks.
"Trajan, Trace," Ashe looked from one werewolf brother to the other before grasping arms and hopping them to one of the peaks.
"Holy crap," Trajan turned in a circle, standing in knee-deep snow. "Ashe, send mindspeech to Winkler and tell him we'll be back in a minute."
Winkler, we're on the side of a mountain, Ashe couldn't keep the amused exultation from his mental voice. Trajan says we'll be back in a minute. Maybe I should let 'em walk back.
"Ashe!" Trace shouted, just before Ashe was pelted with a huge snowball. Ashe scooped up snow and launched one back, causing Trace to duck and laugh. The second one came swiftly on the first's heels, smacking Trace in the ear. Trajan's cell rang.
"Boss?" Trajan answered the call. Ashe and Trace both listened to the conversation as Winkler growled at his Second for allowing himself to be hauled to the top of a mountain.
"Not his fault," Ashe called out.
"Not Marco's fault either," Winkler replied. "Let's declare a truce. I'll stop chewing on Trajan if you'll agree to stop blaming Marco."
"I'll put the blame on Sali and I still won't speak to Marco."
"Kid, we'll work this out. I promise. Finish your snowball fight and then join the rest of us mortals." Winkler ended the call. Trajan no sooner had his cel
l put away before Trace lobbed a snowball at him. Clumps of snow were still dropping off clothing and melting from shoes when Ashe transported both werewolves back to the restaurant. Winkler was glad to see that Ashe landed them between vehicles so they wouldn't be seen.
"Done with the rebellious activities?" Trajan tousled Ashe's hair.
"Till the next time," Ashe grinned. Trajan pulled Ashe into a tight hug.
"Why am I not comforted?" Weldon sighed piously. Winkler laughed.
* * *
"I will not renew the marriage," Wlodek snapped at Aedan. The sun had set a bare hour earlier, he was plagued with rogues in Paris and Amsterdam and here was Aedan Evans asking for his marriage to be renewed, although he promised to take up his work for the Council again.
"May I have a reason, Honored One?" Aedan asked respectfully.
"Because I do not wish it," Wlodek replied coldly. "Charles has information on the nest in Amsterdam. Go now—the jet is waiting at Heathrow. Do not ask me again."
"Very well," Aedan dipped his head and left Wlodek's study quickly.
* * *
"Wlodek is sending me to Amsterdam," Aedan tossed clothing into a bag.
"Then I'm coming with you," Adele said, gripping Aedan's arm anxiously.
"Adele, these are vampires I'm chasing, and criminal vampires in addition to that."
"I can track anything from overhead," Adele pointed out. Aedan looked into his wife's eyes. She would always be his wife, he didn't care what Wlodek said or did. He just didn't want to upset her with Wlodek's statement. "You can come if you promise to only go out in daylight," Aedan offered his solution.
"I promise," Adele agreed. "I can order room service if I'm hungry after dark."
"We'll be staying at a safe house."
"Then I'll stock snacks or something."
"That's fine. It may have a small kitchen. Some of them do. It will certainly have a refrigerator, stocked with bagged blood."
* * *
The flight crew didn't want Adele on the jet, but Aedan growled at the younger vampires, who stood aside eventually and allowed it. "I'm surprised these things are as luxurious as this," Adele ran a hand over soft leather and settled into the comfortable seat.
Vendetta (Legend of the Ir'Indicti #4) Page 10
