Moonlight: The Big Bad Wolf (Black Swan 4)

by Danann, Victoria

"That's good because I need an answer right now. You interested?"

  Glen was thinking about how to respond when he realized his head was nodding up and down. Oddly enough he was interested. He wasn't sure why. Maybe he had gut feelings, too.

  Storm looked at his watch. "Meet me at the Sovereign's office at 1400. Dress warm and in layers. Grab a pack with snacks, water, hat, gloves and a few thermapacks for fingers and toes - just in case. Your first test is coming up and it's not a fake test or training exercise. It's an important assignment and an indication of just how much faith I have in you.

  "You're leading a team of three, including yourself, to Elk Mountain to talk to the king about the demon's proposition. It's the position of The Order that, if we can do something to save a benign supernatural species from extinction, then we're obligated to help. Any questions?"

  "How long will we be gone?"

  "Probably a few hours."

  Glen looked perplexed. "Hours? Isn't Elk Mountain in Idaho?"

  "Yes."

  "And aren't we in New Jersey?"

  "Perceptive, Catch. We're hitching a ride with my wife and... my father-in-law."

  "Oh." He nodded. "Am I moving back here?"

  "Yes. I'll talk to Sol about retrieving your stuff from Edinburgh." Storm laughed softly. "Simon's probably going to be fit to be tied when he finds out we stole you right out from under him, but, technically, you were ours first and we never gave you up. We just loaned you out for an internship."

  "You make it sound like Jefferson and Headquarters are rivals."

  "I did make it sound that way, didn't I? Shame on me." Storm grinned.

  "Thing is, if I'm leaving Scotia, there are a couple of people I should probably say goodbye to in person."

  "Goodbye sex?" Storm was pretty matter of fact about the question and Glen wasn't expecting that. After all, Storm was an old married man. The best response he could come up with was blinking. Twice. "I'll take that as a yes. In a few days, we can see about letting you stow away on a flight with an extra seat."

  Storm started to get up, then sat back down. "One more thing. This, considering you for this job... It's all kinds of record breaking. You should feel really good about yourself. Mixed progeny or not."

  Storm's protégé put his lips together in the smallest suggestion of a smile. "Thank you, sir. And, just one more question. Who are the other two on my team?"

  "Sir Hawking and myself. He's going because the king knows him. I'm going to observe and report on your strengths and weaknesses." Storm smiled. "No pressure though."

  "Right." He tried not to sound sarcastic even though his brain had already gone into stress or steroids. They expected him to complete a portion of a performance interview in front of the two men he admired most in the world. And it was a real mission. Not a training exercise. He felt a lump in his throat and his palms were already starting to feel clammy. "Thank you, sir."

  Walking away with his back to Glendennon Catch, Storm smiled to himself, thinking that the trainee was probably feeling a lump form in his throat just about then, followed by noticing that his palms were getting clammy. Good. The more pressure he felt to perform, the better. If he couldn't handle a friendly diplomatic outing with Ram and Storm, his two biggest supporters, then Z Team would shred his ass while having cookies and milk. They wouldn't break a sweat doing it. They wouldn't feel bad. And they wouldn't look back.

  Glen needed to prove to Storm and himself that he could handle whatever was thrown his direction. And that was the only condition on which Storm would sign off on turning Z Team loose on him.

  Glen was leaning against the wall with his pack on the floor at his feet, waiting in the vestibule that led to Sol's suite of offices. He heard the elevator ding at the end of the hall, coupled with the laughter of occupants exiting on the same floor. Of course he recognized the voices before he could see the faces. Sir Storm, Sir Hawking, Lady Laiken. With his slightly better than pure human hearing, he also picked up the much smaller sound of bubble blowing and gurgling that had to be Helm.

  He grinned when they came into view.

  Elora was carrying Helm. Glen leaned over to plant a kiss on the baby's flawless, smooth little rosy cheek then offered his finger which Helm grasped with a toothless smile and a little free-form jig.

  "Glen," Elora's eyes looked misty, "I don't care if they put you in charge of this assignment because you're a quarter werewolf. I'm so proud of you." She sniffed and had to look away. Controlling tears was a constant struggle for her. She had learned that people were often uncomfortable with too much crying, but she was an emotional girl.

  "Oh, for Paddy's sake, Elora. We'll probably be back in time for dinner." Ram chided her playfully.

  "You know perfectly well that's not why I'm..."

  "No' why you're what?" he teased.

  "...feeling sentimental."

  Looking at Glen, Ram said, "You could do worse than have such a creature as that on your side, you know."

  Glen looked embarrassed. "I know."

  Storm led them into the conference room and shut the door behind them. "Litha and her dad will be here in a minute. Elora, we probably don't need a full briefing, since Ram knows Grey, but is there anything you want to share with Glen that might be useful for him?"

  Elora sat and adjusted Helm on her lap. "I don't know how much you know. His name is Stalkson Grey. According to the stray we retrieved in London, he's old school by werewolf standards. Here's the Catch 22." She grinned when she realized there was a connection to his name. "He will probably want to 'dominate' you..." She did a one-handed air quote on dominate. "...but won't give you his respect if he can. He does this weird staring thing that's some sort of whoever-looks-away-first game."

  Glen, being very familiar with werewolf culture, looked down and quietly snorted in amusement at Elora's irreverent, outsider's perspective. He could see why it probably did seem both bizarre and stupid from her point of view.

  "You probably have a better handle on werewolf politics than we do. The first time we met I called him a despot or a tyrant or something like that. After I put him down on the ground, he got over our differences and became, I don't know, amiable, maybe even charming. It was just an odd transformation. The hardest part is getting past the dominance ritual.

  "When he was here a few days ago, it was evident that he's really worried about what's going to become of them. I wish you had time to learn more about the tribe, their society, history, and so on before you go, but..."

  "No. That's okay. I have that covered. I hacked The Order's database a couple of hours ago and pulled what I need. Thank you."

  Elora looked up at her team mates. Storm's features were passive, but she knew he was duly impressed. Ram was wearing a little smile of unmistakable pride. He nodded at Elora as if to say, "That's our boy." She nodded back to him, smiling in complete agreement.

  "Good. I talked to the king on the phone last night and told him The Order is sending emissaries with news. He's expecting you."

  Litha and Deliverance appeared right next to Elora. Mother and baby both jumped. Helm cried loudly about being startled while Elora grasped at her chest like she was having a heart attack.

  Litha was appropriately contrite. "Oh no. I'm so sorry," she told Elora. Looking at Helm, whose little face was almost as red as his hair, she said, "I've been a bad auntie." Still sniveling, Helm turned his face into his mother's breast and refused to look at Litha.

  "Yes. You certainly have." Storm pulled her away and put his arms around her. "I'm thinking spanking."

  Litha narrowed her eyes. When she hugged him back she let a little heat build up in her hands. "I'd like to see you try it." She arched an eyebrow while he laughed, sidling away from getting burned.

  "Okay. So how does this work?" Glen asked.

  "I guess that means you've taken command." Storm looked at Ram, who shrugged and smiled. "Well, we have two mules and three riders. You tell us."

  "Only you could turn getting a
ride in the passes around to make it sound like you're in control." Litha gave Storm a mock dirty look.

  "You go with Litha. I'll go with the demon. Litha, will you please come back for Sir Hawking?"

  She nodded.

  Storm looked at Glen. "Okay. Since we're following you, we're giving you temporary permission to drop the formalities."

  "Speak for yourself," Ram teased, winking at Glen.

  "Will that be copasetic with you, um, Ram?" Truthfully, Ram's first name on Glen's tongue felt awkward and out of place.

  "Aye, sir."

  "Very well." Glen withdrew an old-fashioned paper map from his pack and showed it to Litha and Deliverance. He pointed to a marking he'd made in orange highlighter. "This is the south entrance to the Elk Mountain reservation. There's a lightly guarded border station there. We need to be dropped close, but not so close that we would alarm anyone." He glanced at Elora and the baby and his meaning was clear. "We have to be cleared by the security station to gain official admittance to the reservation. They might give us a ride or they might point to the road. We won't know until we get there.

  "Either way, we'll be about twelve miles from the settlement. It's a short ride or a medium jog." Glen eyed the two old men who were already well on the other side of twenty-five. "You're both up to it?"

  Ram looked at Storm. "He just insulted us, did he no'?"

  Storm nodded. "I think we can manage."

  Glen rolled up the map and stuck it back in his pack. "Let's go then."

  Storm gave the kid points for knowing that it was always good to have a paper map back up. While small electronic devices were convenient, sometimes weather or atmosphere or concentrations of technology interfered with their operations and you had to be ready to go old school.

  Storm and Glen were delivered to a location within visual range of the reservation entrance. Storm was glad he got to go first so his stomach had a minute to settle down.

  So far he was impressed with everything about the way Glen had conducted himself. He had taken the initiative to do his own research in case the intelligence briefing missed something. He'd listened to Elora attentively and respectfully, while acknowledging deference to her rank and personal experience with the king. When deciding how they would travel he had, apparently, factored in Ram's dislike of Deliverance and arranged for him to go with Litha. And, last, he had adopted a practical approach to what he'd learned about werewolf tribal customs. The plan to arrive outside the guard station, but not so close as to alarm anyone, confirmed Storm's past impression that Glen had some innate talent for strategy and tactical application.

  The kid was the whole package: brilliant, likable, and able to turn any situation into an equation to be solved by sorting through available data, and arranging various factors in order of importance. There were only two things Storm still needed to evaluate. How did he react to stress? And, did he have it? That mystic quality that science couldn't define or categorize. Women called it intuition. Men called it gut instinct. Naming it was irrelevant. Having it was crucial.

  Storm jumped when Litha popped in with Ram. It seemed that, even when you knew it was coming, it was still so unnatural that the body reacted independently of the brain.

  "Sorry," she chuckled quietly. She leaned up and gave him a peck on the lips. "Have fun. See you later."

  "I'm not here for fun, woman!" Storm protested with his brows furrowed.

  "Right," she laughed and vanished.

  "You were right," Glen said to Storm. "It's cold here."

  It was a cloudy day threatening a big dump of snow. They looked around at the inch of recent snow on the ground. Not so much that rocks and twigs weren't visible, but the moisture in the air made it seem even colder than it was.

  "Ready?"

  Storm and Ram nodded and fell in behind him.

  When the guard saw people approaching he stepped outside the hut with a silent, but open question hanging in the air.

  Nearing the gate, Glen said, "Visitors to the king. We're expected."

  The guard looked them up and down unapologetically as if he began every clearance encounter with an assumption that non-werewolves were up to no good. "Names?"

  "Glendennon Catch. Rammel Hawking. Engel Storm."

  He checked his list then picked up his cell phone, speed dialed a number, and repeated the names. "Do you need visual confirmation?" He grunted, touched his handheld device a couple of times, then held it up and panned across them to transmit video. He switched back to audio communication, grunted into the handheld and put it away.

  "Do you have weapons in those packs?" All three said no. "Would you mind opening up and letting me take a look?" He rummaged through each pack so thoroughly that, at one point, Ram and Storm gave each other meaningful looks. The potential guests from Black Swan did have weapons, of course, but none that would be identifiable by sight, which was the most primitive method of security scan. When the werewolf guard was satisfied, he pointed at the dirt road behind him. "Twelve miles that way. Stay on the road. You can take that jeep. Keys are in it. When you see buildings, leave the jeep. The village is pedestrian only."

  Glen thanked him and led the way toward a topless jeep that looked like it could have been a relic from World War II. He threw his pack in the rear and pulled himself up behind the wheel.

  "You know how to drive manual?" Storm asked as he folded his long legs into the shotgun seat.

  Glen just grinned as he started the engine and threw the gearshift into reverse. "You two should hold on. The lack of hydraulics in this model might be a little hard on old bones."

  Storm looked behind him at Ram as if to say, "Can you believe this?" Being with someone who thought of them as old would take some getting used to. Glen was masterfully ambiguous which kept them guessing about whether or not he was kidding.

  At almost exactly twelve miles they reached the edge of the settlement. They pulled off the path, parked, and shouldered their packs.

  The center of Elk Mountain reservation so perfectly blended into its surroundings that Frank Lloyd Wright would have called it a masterpiece of low impact architecture. The buildings varied in size, but used identical building materials. Wood logs that came from the local forest. Stone that came from the river nearby. Homes were situated in concentric circles around a community center which appeared to be a place of central meeting and a country store with basic provisions.

  There was a lodge sitting on a rise at the edge of the village. Glen knew from his research that it was the alpha's home. It wasn't larger than most in square footage, but its height, both in terms of structure and how it was situated relative to other buildings, strongly suggested dominance. What he didn't know for certain was whether they should go to the center of activity or to the lodge. He headed toward the large meeting hall. If no one had been designated to greet them, he would ask someone there.

  Storm and Ram fell back just a little behind him. Under his breath Storm said, "Don't interfere unless his life is in danger."

  Ram gave Storm a questioning look and narrowed his eyes. "You sure? He's a rookie."

  "Would you rather see him tested without us watching out for him? Gonna happen one way or the other."

  Ram nodded and they picked up their pace until they were right behind him again.

  Glen looked over his shoulder. "Secrets, gentlemen?"

  "Storm's expectin' fatherhood and needin' advice from a more experienced family man."

  Storm always marveled at how easily stories slid out of Ram's imagination and onto his tongue.

  A score of children had started following, laughing and running circles around them. Glen smiled at them, but didn't speak. Werewolf tribes were isolated. They didn't get many visitors and didn't readily trust people from the outside world. A handful of adults who could tolerate humans conducted business on behalf of the tribe. The rest of the population preferred to keep to their own territory.

  Glen looked over his shoulder. "Don't say anything to them. Thei
r parents may not want us to interact with them and make them feel comfortable about humans."

  When they reached the settlement center, there were several young bloods hanging around the entrance, leaning against the wall. When the three strangers approached, they straightened. Glen offered a courtesy nod and started toward the door. They immediately closed ranks and blocked his path.

  "We're here to see the king. And we're expected."

  One of them repeated his words back to him in a high mocking voice while the largest stood right in front of his face and stared down at him. The one directly in front of him inhaled deeply, then made a face like he smelled something bad.

  Glen narrowed his eyes, but didn't look away. The werewolf standing directly in front of him started to growl low in his throat. Glen responded by letting his pack drop off his shoulders onto the ground, but he didn't look away while he did it.

  "Maybe I wasn't clear. Once again. We're here as the king's guests. We don't want any trouble. We're just trying to find out where to meet with him. So either take us to him or get out of the way so I can ask somebody else."

  The wolf in Glen's face responded by showing his teeth. Without further warning or ritual threatening behavior, Glen unleashed a snarl so loud and menacing, and inhuman, that the werewolf in front of him stumbled backward and ended up on his ass with a shocked look on his face. The three friends behind him backed away quickly. Still growling, Glen leaned down toward the boy on the ground and waited for him to submit. When the other kid showed his throat, Glen looked at the others so they could see what alpha looked like on someone their age. That gave the young male on the ground time to scramble to his feet and retreat to a safe distance.

  Storm and Ram both raised their eyebrows. A look passed between them just as the door opened. Stalkson Grey was standing behind it.

  "Mr. Catch?"

  "Yes."

  "I apologize for that behavior. You were supposed to have been met and escorted here. By the time I heard the disturbance and realized that some of the young bloods were misbehaving, I saw that you were doing fine on your own. I saw what happened from the window."