“You chased them off?”
“Yes and no.” For the first time, Opal looks uncomfortable instead of angry or disgusted. “I’ve never felt anything like this, Danika. First, the creature who came to us wasn’t a wolf. Or it didn’t feel like one.”
“It?”
Opal gives an apologetic shrug. “I don’t know how else to describe him. It wasn’t a wolf or a human or a vampire, even though it appeared like one on the outside. It was more a shadow of a living creature or a parody of one.”
“You’re not making sense.”
“I’m aware of that, but I’m doing the best I can.” Opal yanks a piece of paper off her trays and begins to sketch. “It’s hard to bring the face to mind even now, but I’d guess it was trying to appear male. Like this.”
The sketch she swings round to show me is a gruff, masculine looking figure with hair in cornrows to the shoulders and a scar across his face from right to left.
“Looks normal enough to me.”
Opal adds a few more lines and erases a couple of others. “This is Flint Liddell, alpha of the Blood Moon. This is what he looked like and yet, if I stared at him too long I felt as though there was a shadow on him. Darkness.” She shudders. “You know I don’t scare easily, but honestly, I couldn’t get that thing away from here any faster. It frightened me if I’m honest.”
For the first time, Rayne ventures away from the door. She studies the sketch from multiple angles before looking directly at Opal. “What frightened you about it?”
“I don’t know. So hard to explain. It was just a feeling I had, like dread and powerlessness. It was weak, but the longer he stayed here, the more intense it became. There was an aura about it, like fear and filth. I could barely stand it. In fact, I had to have a shower after he left, but even that didn’t help.”
“Was anyone else affected?”
A slight smile touches Opal’s lips. She looks at me. “Your Rayne has the same instincts you do, Danika. No wonder you’re such a famous team.”
Rayne looks at the ground.
I stare at my hands. “Um, yeah.”
“Oh.” Opal pulls back the paper. “Apologies, I had no idea there were struggles. I mean only that Rayne has touched on something it took me several hours to notice. When Flint was here, the countryside went quiet. As if every small creature had run away to hide. Even the chickens and pigs we keep in the back retreated from the building as if in fear. That thing, whatever it is, carries menace around it. And it happens each time he comes.”
“Each time?”
“Oh, yes. Flint has been here every other night since Blood Moon first arrived. In fact, the very reason I was outside tonight was because I hoped to head him off before he reached the building.”
“But what does he want?”
“The same as the first time. As the only pure-female pack, it seems we are of especial interest to Flint and the rest of his pack. He seems to think we wait only for a strong man to take us over and believes that he is the man strong enough to do so. Mating isn’t the only thing he has in mind. He wants to control us.”
I laugh despite myself. “Well, he’s in for a rude awakening. The only reason you guys aren’t classed as the strongest pack is because you’re way out here, keeping to yourselves.”
“We don’t want to be disturbed. Especially by men.”
“Ain’t that the truth. But if we don’t do something about this pack, then I don’t think you’ll have much choice in the matter.”
Opal nods. “Fine. I’ve been putting it off, but I don’t think I can afford to do that any more. I’ll call a moot.”
My eyes widen. “Never heard of it. What’s a moot?”
“Hardly surprising. They don’t happen very often. Certainly we’ve not held one since the introduction of the Supernatural Creatures Act. Before that, the last was easily fifty years ago.” Opal stands and crosses to the long rope hanging in the corner. She pulls it twice, and though there is no sound down here, a set of bells rings loudly somewhere above us.
I glance at Rayne. She shrugs.
Opal goes on. “A moot is a gathering of werewolf packs. Usually such meetings are reserved for”—she growls—“a blood moon or a cross-pack celebration, but they also take place in urgent and dire circumstances. All wolf packs in an area must follow a certain set of rules. Nothing is written, but there are traditions and expectations to be upheld. The Blood Moon pack is ignoring all of them and I’d considered this after our visitor left. Now however, it’s clear we need to gather.”
My skin seems to tingle with the energy put off from Opal’s words. This is something new and important, and the SPEAR in me is already working on the best way to learn about it and put the knowledge to good use. The rest of me is excited and fired up. This is going to be awesome.
* * *
I rub my hands together. “So when do we go?”
“We? No, no.” Opal opens the door to the small study and walks through it. A silent but obvious command to follow. I do, with Rayne close behind, and walk back along the corridor and out through the burial area as Opal continues to speak.
“There is no we, Danika. Humans aren’t welcome at a moot. This is werewolf business. I will call upon each of the pack alphas and they will come. They along with their second in command. Once all five packs—ugh, sorry, six packs—are in one place, we’ll discuss what to do.”
I stop dead in my tracks. “You’re inviting the Blood Moon alpha too?”
“Of course. He may stomp on tradition, but I refuse to. In truth, he should have been the one to request a moot in the first place. Any new pack entering an established order must put themselves before the existing packs in order that territory may be set. I’m beginning to understand better than ever why this Flint may have lost his previous pack.”
Back to the stairs now and the bright lights of the living area begin to break through the gloom.
I increase my pace, almost running to keep up with the business-like march Opal now employs.
At the top of the second set of steps a small cluster of habit-clad women wait for us. None of them are smiling now; none of them are calm. I see bristling fur and long nails among the crowd waiting for us and a visible sag of relief as Opal steps into view.
She spends a brief moment scanning the crowd, seemingly counting. “Bethany? Ingrid? Katherine?”
Gina lifts her hand. “They’re coming.”
No sooner has she said it than the main doors to the church open. Through it hurry three wolves in hybrid forms, bounding awkwardly along on hands and toes. They skid to a stop at the rear of the gathering and ripple back into their human forms. They’re naked and sweaty, but clearly ready for any sort of action, two of the three still holding on to their sharp claws.
“Thank you for coming so quickly, girls. Given SPEAR’s update on the outburst of aggressive werewolf activity last night and persistent visits from the Blood Moon alpha, we can no longer afford to be passive and aloof. Girls, we must vote, as discussed earlier.”
Mumbles and whispers shoot through the crowd.
I watch the collection of women, trying to read the mood. The emotion I notice most among those gathered is nervousness. Not fear, but certainly agitation and caution. None of them appear happy at the prospect of a vote.
Opal lifts both hands. “We vote now. One, do we finally agree to meet with this Flint and learn the truth of what he wants from us? Two, do we do as Gina suggests and seek protection or at least assistance from other packs? Three, do we continue to turn away the Blood Moon on our own with our own strength? Or, a new option, do we call a moot and settle the issue of this new pack once and for all?”
Many of the woman can no longer contain themselves. At this new option, the murmurs and whispers become a full-on conversation with no pretence at subtlety. I hear varied thoughts and options, but mostly excitement.
Most, if not all of these werewolves, are young. They are troubled females booted from their old packs or left to fend for them
selves before finding this one. While all packs have a strong sense of loyalty and family, the Loup Garou are well known for taking this to an extreme, more so even than Long Tooth wolves who are in fact related by blood. To see a pack led by democracy is fascinating, even if Opal does hold the ceremonial title of alpha.
After a minute or two, Opal lifts her hands again to still the crowd. “Vote now, with a show of hands. The first option of meeting with Flint to open negotiations on joining our packs?”
Not a single hand raised. Not surprising, but still warming to see.
“Second, allying ourselves with other packs.”
Gina and two others lift their hands. They do so boldly and without shame, but their raised fists are lonely in a sea of lowered ones.
“Third, do we put off the advances of this new pack ourselves, depending only on our own strengths?”
Many hands shoot into the air this time. In fact, so many that I begin to count, because at a glance it looks like more than half.
Rayne twitches beside me. “This is close.”
She’s not kidding.
Opal seems to realize it too. I can see her lips moving as she counts the raised fists. “Very well. And the newest option, do we call a moot and discuss the next steps with every Angbec pack?”
More hands raised.
I count, but Opal is quicker, and she sighs when done. “An even split. To those of you who chose not to vote, are you certain? You have the power to swing the decision one way or another, but of course you’re not obligated to vote.”
Two women, older in appearance than the rest, share a weary glance before shaking their heads. The first murmurs, “We’re too old and tired to fight. Each option you put to us will end in some sort of battle.”
The second nods her agreement. “We’ll follow you, Opal, as we’ve always done. But we won’t choose to endanger our pack.”
“Your pack is already in danger.” I shouldn’t, I know that, but I just can’t help myself. “Hiding your heads in the sand isn’t going to make things better.”
For the first time, Opal directs anger at me. “Silence. This is no place for you to speak.”
“But—”
“This isn’t your place. My pack mates may vote however they feel comfortable with no fear of shame or retaliation. A decision to abstain is as valid and will be respected.”
“You don’t understand—”
Rayne grabs my arm. “Danika.”
Up on the platform, Opal takes a single step forward. It’s small and by no means aggressive, but in that moment, I can feel her edane presence licking against my exposed skin like heat off an open fire. “Whatever the decision we make tonight you and your companion will be escorted off the premises. Loup Garou take care of our own. We always have and will continue to do so. We’ve no need of SPEAR assistance.”
Great. She’s hit full-on alpha mode.
I raise a hand, palm out in defeat, and snap my lips closed. If she wants to play it that way, fine, but there’s no way I’m leaving this place if a moot is about to happen.
“Now then, if you two are certain you won’t vote then the final decision in the place of a tie falls on me. Do you all agree? Now is the time to switch your vote if you wish to.”
Nobody moves.
I hold my breath.
Opal curls a lock of her hair around her finger, winding it tighter and tighter until it springs free and spirals like a corkscrew. “A moot it is. Ladies…prepare for company. Bethany, Ingrid, Katherine, you are back outside on guard. Ursula, you will invite the Dire Wolves, Yvonne, you will contact the Grey Tails. Charlotte, you visit the Fire Fangs, and try to behave while you do. Zoe, you see the Long Tooths, and I will visit the Blood Moon myself.”
Uproar.
For those who voted for the moot there is excited chatter and movement, from everybody else, reactions vary from anger, to fear, to concern, to bemusement.
Shouts come from all over the crowd.
“We can’t invite them here.”
“There hasn’t been a moot for years.”
“We aren’t prepared.”
“There aren’t enough weapons here.”
“But they don’t respect us, you know they won’t come.”
“You can’t go to the Blood Moon pack alone.”
And so on. Aside from the few frantic cries I can decipher the rest is a cacophony of objections, agreements, and worries.
Rayne, still with her hand on my elbow, sighs deeply. “I don’t know about this.”
Neither do I, but of all the options this pack seemingly had on offer, it’s the best one as far as I can tell.
“Ladies, ladies.” Opal waves her hands again. “I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that a moot requires plenty of preparation. There’s a lot to do before the others arrive, so there is no time for argument. The decision has been made. Let’s follow through.”
The women named by Opal’s role call peel off from the gathering at the base of the nave. They strip down quickly, leaving tunics, wimples, and undergarments draped over chairs or folded in corners. They shift with barely any effort, bypassing their hybrid forms to go for the larger, faster wolf forms.
They nose the door open and vanish into the night with a swish-flick of their large tails. Those that remain also erupt into a flurry of activity, moving furniture, collecting up games and books, stripping off their clothing.
Rayne and I stand in the middle of it all, while Gina approaches her alpha.
I try not to listen…but not very hard.
“Opal, are you sure about this?”
“Not at all. But of all the choices we discussed earlier, this is the most proactive. You know the girls appreciate action.”
“But action for the sake of action is foolish.”
“And what would you do in my place?”
“I…” Gina lowers her head.
“My love.” Opal catches Gina’s chin with her hand. “Thank you, but I need you to be strong now. Consistent. While I put the invitation at the foot of the Blood Moon alpha, I need you to be here and watch our girls. Can you do that? For me?”
Gina turns her face into Opal’s hand, pressing her lips against her fingers.
I turn my back on them, offering what small illusion of privacy I can. Despite that, I can hear their heavy breathing and the desperation in the sudden kiss they share.
My cheeks grow warm and, despite myself, I sneak a glance at Rayne.
My heart stutters. She’s looking at me.
Our shared gaze grows hotter, more intense with every passing second. My fingertips start to tingle, my chest grows tight. Low down in my body, my muscles remember the happy clench and flex of when she touches me.
“Rayne—”
She turns away and walks toward the door.
Chapter Twenty-nine
By the time I reach the outside the Loup Garou wolves have scattered to go about their separate jobs. As my eyes adjust to the night vision, I spy Rayne stalking across the grass.
“Rayne.” I have to run to catch up with her, and though I know she can hear me, she doesn’t turn or slow.
“For goodness sake, will you wait? Please.”
She vaults across the stream without using the stepping stones, putting even more distance between us as she stalks back to the van.
By the time I do reach her side, I can see the darker smudge of black against the night sky that marks where I parked the vehicle.
“Where are you going?”
“Away from here. We did what you wanted. We’ve got information and it looks like the Angbec packs are going to sort this mess out for themselves. We don’t need to be involved any more.”
“But—”
“But nothing. Why ‘but’? Why always do you have a ‘but’?”
I slap my rear. “Just shaking what my mama gave me.”
Rayne gives a rippling snarl. “Stop that. Be serious, for once in your life.”
My smile fades. “I…I’m s
orry. I didn’t mean to—”
“You never do, but please, just this once, can you accept that your job is done? We shouldn’t even be here, but I followed you like I said I would. You’ve mobilized the Loup Garou, they’ll call the moot or whatever it is, and we can get out of the way. We don’t belong in this fight.”
The word “but” dies on my lips. Instead I walk slowly around Rayne’s body, forcing her to turn with me until the light of the moon shines on her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she snaps.
“Bullshit. What has you so…so…riled up?”
She puts her back to me and the moonlight. Instead of her face, now I can see the rim of silver light across her back and shoulders, marking out the tense set of every muscle and limb. “Do you trust me?” she whispers.
My gut knots. “I—”
“Not with blood, not with blood mania. We both know how you feel about that. But do you trust my instincts as a SPEAR? Or even as the police officer I used to be.”
“Yes. You’re an excellent agent.”
Her shoulders hunch briefly toward her ears then settle again. “Then trust me now. Stay away from this moot. Something awful is going to happen, I can just feel it.”
“Like what? To me? To Opal? To the other packs? What?”
“I don’t know.” Frustration adds a growl to her voice. “But I can feel it. Don’t you? Your instincts are usually better than mine. Why can’t you see this is a bad set-up?”
“Because it’s not. You’re right. The wolf packs are going to look after themselves, but at the very least shouldn’t SPEAR have a presence so we know what’s going on?”
She hesitates. “Then let Noel do it. This is his case now, anyway.”
I run my fingertips back and forth over the pockets on my utility belt. Maybe he could take my place out here. Maybe he should. But he’d likely never make it in time and, quite obviously, this is so much more than who has jurisdiction over the werewolf case.
“Rayne?” I follow as she turns aside from me again. “Rayne. Talk to me. What’s bothering you?”
“I’m frightened, okay?” Her words are a harsh bellow in the darkness, echoing over the empty grass. “I’m so, so afraid and I can’t believe that you aren’t too. The way Opal described this Flint Liddell…I can’t remember when I last heard a werewolf admit to fear. Doesn’t that bother you?”
Moon Fever Page 27
